Aristodemocracy, from the great war back to Moses, Christ, and Plato; an essay

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ARISTODEMOCRACY

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ARISTODEMOCRACY

FROM THE GREAT WAR BACK
TO MOSES, CHRIST, AND PLATO

AN ESSAY

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BY SIR CHARLES WALDSTEIN

.A., LITT.D. CANTAB.; M.A., L.H.D. COL. UNIV., NEW YORK; PH.D. HEIDELBERG
HON. LITT.D. TRIN. COLL., DUBLIN

LONDON
JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET, W.

1916

v C;\.zl I

All Rights Reserved

TO THE MEMORY OF
MY BROTHER,

LOUIS WALDSTEIN, M.D.,

Born in New York, U.S.A., April 15, 1853,

Died at Posingford, Sussex, England,

April ii, 191 5

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PREFACE

This Essay is not the work of a laudator temporis acti.
In spite of its title it is not reactionary or romantic
in spirit. Nor is it meant to advocate a return to
conditions of the past, but, emphatically, to prepare
for the future a new state of things responding to the
needs of an advancing age.

There is one possible misunderstanding which I
wish above all to avoid.

Though the book is a protest against war and
maintains the possibility — even the certainty — of
international peace in the future, and though it is
directed against militarism as the arch-enemy of
humanity, I firmly hold that the question of peace
is not to be obtruded on the consciousness of our
people while actually engaged in a desperate struggle,
requiring the concentration of all the energy the
nation possesses upon the fight itself. As long as
the war lasts all " Pacifist " agitation is out of place.
First we must win this war. We must even be pre-
pared, if necessary, to substitute conscription for our
voluntary system, which served us so well in the past.

The issue between our so-called " Pacifist " friends
and those who think as I do is a very simple one.

We protest that we hate war and love peace with
the same sincerity and intensity as they do.

But we think it not only right but our sacred duty to
fight German militarism with all the means of fair war-
fare which human ingenuity can devise and human
courage can bring into the fight. We cannot believe

vii

viii PREFACE

that passive submission to German aggression can
be heroic or in any sense wise or moral. We should
think it criminal in the highest degree were we to
stand with hands folded like the hapless Armenians
and see our wives and children slaughtered before our
eyes and receive the death-blow without a murmur.
But, perhaps even more disastrous than the loss of
our wives and children and our miserable selves, we
should see swept away before our very eyes all the
ideals of civilisation and morality which our traditions
have established among us, upon which our moral
consciousness has been based for centuries of human
effort in the establishment of political and social
freedom and moral and intellectual culture.

The Armenians have been thus massacred by their
Turkish rulers after they had been prevented from
arming themselves and preparing the means of manly
self-defence. The hordes of German Huns could
massacre the inhabitants of Belgium as cruelly as
the Turkish official mob could brain and burn and
drown the helpless Armenians. They could still
more effectually annihilate the Pacifist inhabitants
of England. But the essential difference between
the Armenians and ourselves is, that we are able
to arm ourselves ; and it is therefore our sacred and
supreme duty to do this most effectually — not only
by supplying the most efficient arms, but the best
of fighting material in soldiers.

We deplore with equal intensity of sorrow and
passionate regret, as do the Pacifists, that from the
Eugenistic point of view the slaying of the young
and healthy is the greatest loss to the nation and to
mankind. The older men among us may have offered
to fight and been (wisely) refused. They could say,
and did say, to the military authorities, as did that
brave and patriotic Jewish octogenarian during the
American Revolutionary War — " My body can stop

PREFACE ix

a bullet as well as that of a young man." But it
is right to point out that older men do not provide
the best fighting machine ; that a single night in the
trenches might send them to the hospital behind
the righting line with rheumatism or pneumonia, to
block the way of the wounded soldier. Nor do we
think, much as we deplore the loss of the younger celi-
bate, that those who have the responsibility and care
of a family immediately dependent upon them ought to
precede the unencumbered bachelor in the fighting line.

In any case the alternative to effectual warfare
against German militarism is Armenian passivity
— which spells a huge crime. We therefore believe
in warfare for us as a sacred duty — until a true safe-
guard to peace can be devised and realised.

Even after the war, our military preparedness
must not be relaxed or weakened, unless some In-
ternational Court backed by power, such as is advo-
cated in this Essay, is established. Not even a
European alliance will take its place. The more
we consider alliances in past history, and even in the
light of our present experiences of the working of
such alliances under the constraining influence of a
common enemy in the field, the less faith can we
have in the security of such alliances. Only such
a definite organisation as that which I have attempted
to outline here will justify disarmament.

Meanwhile the British Empire will have to increase
its military strength, and, above all, retain unimpaired
its command of the sea. The United States will no
doubt follow our example of military and naval pre-
paredness, until the day arrives when interest, reason
and justice will alone lead to an efficient safe-guarding
of international peace. By that time the political
consciousness of the whole world will probably be
greatly altered, mainly owing to the results of this war.

The war will, I venture to predict, prove to be

x PREFACE

the swan-song of the older conception of nationality ;
for it is the misconception of nationality which has
in great part produced it. Ultimately a new con-
ception of nationality and internationality will be
ushered in, in which loyalty to the narrower relations
will in no way prevent loyalty to the wider. It will
be the Era of Patriotic Internationalism. Not so
very many years ago, as human history goes, the
Scotsman, for instance, could not have conceived it
possible to have loyally upheld the interests of a
great British Empire, even at the sacrifice of Scottish
local or personal interests, as he is now prepared to
do. The same, I believe, will be true as regards the
wider international unit of the future in its relation
to the nations of to-day.

In some respects the actual events of this war
have made the realisation of such a scheme more
remote than in the period preceding it. I am not
alluding so much to the attitude of the German
belligerents, as to that of the Administration of the
United States of America.

One of the greatest — perhaps the greatest — oppor-
tunity in history to affect the course of humanity
towards the attainment of highest good ever placed
within the reach of a few individuals by means of
one definite action has been lost by them.

I pass no judgment upon the action of President
Wilson's Administration in refraining from active
intervention in the war, nor upon the question of
how far national honour was involved, nor yet would
I decide how far it is the duty of nations to protect
their honour at all costs. But a paramount duty to
the cause of humanity has been shirked from the
very outset with the most disastrous results. Had
it been fulfilled, it might have marked a great epoch
in the history of humanity. It was surely the duty
of that Administration to protest against every clear

PREFACE xi

and flagrant violation of international law and of
the decisions of the Hague Convention to which
the United States was a signatory.

Had the United States thus protested against the
action of Germany in Belgium, the numerous and
undoubted contraventions of these laws and decisions
in the bombardment of unfortified towns by ordnance
or aircraft, or the sinking of peaceful merchantmen,
etc., etc., a new era might have been initiated. Such
a protest need not have been followed by armed
intervention, and might have remained purely aca-
demic and platonic ; but made it ought to have been.
The sinking of passenger and merchant vessels ought
not to have evoked protest merely on the ground
of their belonging to the United States or because
they carried American goods or passengers, but
purely and wholly on the ground that the United
States was a co-signatory of the Hague Convention.
The United States, as the only remaining great
neutral Power, would have become the centre to
which the combined opinion and support of all the
numerous smaller and less powerful neutral States
— also co-signatories of the Hague Convention —
would have been drawn ; thus producing a united
expression of civilised opinion and moral force
throughout the world. It would perhaps only have
formed a nucleus to a germ-cell of international
justice and peace ; but out of this germ a great and
sturdy organic body of civilised opinion and power
might subsequently have developed. Such action
has not been taken. The great world-opportunity
has been lost. The cause of human peace has not
been advanced. Worse still : the sin of omission
has had the positive effect of retarding the realisation
of the just hope of civilised humanity formed before
this war, and has confirmed the divorce between
right and might for years to come.

xii PREFACE

This Essay attempts to trace the origin of this war
back to the Bismarckian policy which initiated the
inordinate development of Teutonic Chauvinism, out
of which has grown the Alldeutsche policy of world
conquest, together with the method of German ruth-
lessness as adopted by the War Party and defined
by Bernhardi. It also contains a picture of the Old
Germany as contrasted with the New.

The more ultimate causes of this war are to be
found in the inadequacy of European, especially
German, morals, which in no way respond to the
development of civilised life in all other spheres.
An attempt is made to lay down the principles of
European ethics, ensuring such adequate reform in the
present and preparing for normal evolution in the
future. It is the principle of Conscious Evolution in
human affairs, which differs essentially from Nietzsche's
system, of which a searching criticism is made.

This book was written during the winter and spring
of 1914 to 191 5. Events subsequent to that date
have not necessitated the making of any essential
alterations or additions. Where such additions are
made they are made in footnotes.

My sincere thanks are due to my friend and col-
league, Dr. J. B. Bury, Fellow of King's College,
and Regius Professor of History in the University
of Cambridge, as well as to my wife, for numerous
suggestions and corrections.

The Author.

Newton Hall, Newton, Cambridge.
January 1916.

P.S. (March 10, 191 6). — I must also thank my
friend, Mr. George Leveson Gower, for his most valu-
able help in correcting the proofs and for making
numerous useful suggestions, as well as Mr. John
Murray and the printers for seeing the manuscript
through the press in so short a time. — C. W.

CONTENTS

PART I
THE DISEASE OF WAR AND ITS CURE

PAGB

INTRODUCTION . . . . . . I

CHAPTER I

THE IMMEDIATE CAUSES OF THE WAR THE

DOMINANCE OF GERMAN STREBERTHUM AND
ALLDEUTSCHER MILITARISM .... 5

CHAPTER II

THE OLDER GERMANY . . . . .21

CHAPTER III

PRUSSIAN MILITARISM AND THE GROWTH OF

GERMAN CHAUVINISM SINCE 187O THE

GLORIFICATION OF WAR . . . 4 1

CHAPTER IV

THE CONCEPTION OF THE STATE AND OF INTER-
NATIONAL RELATIONS .... 86
xiii

xiv CONTENTS

CHAPTER V

PACB

THE HUMANITARIAN CONSCIOUSNESS OF THE

MODERN MAN . . . . . IOO

CHAPTER VI

PATRIOTISM AND COSMOPOLITANISM THE PER-
PENDICULAR AND HORIZONTAL DIVISIONS OF
HUMAN SOCIETY Ill

CHAPTER VII

RECONSIDERATION OF THE TRUE MODERN MEAN-
ING OF STATE AND OF PATRIOTISM . . 11$

CHAPTER VIII

CORPORATENESS — THE ABUSE OF CORPORATE

AND INDIVIDUAL LOYALTY . . 120

CHAPTER IX

THE WRONG AND THE RIGHT NATIONALISM . 1 32

CHAPTER X

THE DISEASE OF WAR ..... I44

CHAPTER XI

THE CURE OF THE DISEASE OF WAR . . I 52

CONTENTS xv

PART II

THE INADEQUACY OF MODERN MORALS:
NIETZSCHE

CHAPTER I

MM

THE NEGATIVE CHARACTER OF SOCIAL REFORMERS

— THE MONSTROSITY OF NIETZSCHE' S SUPERMAN 1 68

PART III
THE MORAL DISEASE AND ITS CURE

CHAPTER I

THE CODIFICATION OF MODERN MORALS . . 200

CHAPTER II

THE TEACHING OF MOSES . . . . 208

CHAPTER III

THE TEACHING OF CHRIST .... 224

CHAPTER IV

THE NEED FOR ETHICAL EVOLUTION IMPLIED

IN THE TEACHING OF CHRIST — PLATO . 239

CHAPTER V

PLATONIC IDEALISM APPLIED TO ETHICAL EVOLU-
TION THE ETHICS OF THE FUTURE . . 247

xvi CONTENTS

PART IV

OUTLINE OF THE PRINCIPLES OF CON-
TEMPORARY ETHICS

(a) MAN'S DUTIES AS A SOCIAL BEING

CHAPTER I

PAGE

DUTY TO THE FAMILY ..... 266

CHAPTER II

DUTY TO THE COMMUNITY AND TO SOCIETY

THE ART OF LIVING THE IDEAL OF THE

GENTLEMAN . . . . . . 27 1

CHAPTER III

DUTY TO THE STATE . . . . 313

CHAPTER IV

DUTY TO HUMANITY . . . . .325

{b) THE DUTIES WHICH ARE NOT SOCIAL AND
THE IMPERSONAL DUTIES

CHAPTER V

DUTY TO OURSELF . . . . 331

CONTENTS xvii

CHAPTER VI

PAOK

DUTY TO THINGS AND ACTS .... 336

CHAPTER VII

DUTY TO GOD ...... 347

EPILOGUE 355

APPENDIXES
APPENDIX I

PASSAGES ON CHAUVINISM FROM PREVIOUS

PUBLICATIONS . . . . .357

APPENDIX II

PASSAGES ON COSMOPOLITANISM . . . 375

APPENDIX III

THE WORLD'S CHANGES IN THE PAST FIFTY

YEARS 378

APPENDIX IV

THE " TRANSPORTATION " OF CAPITAL . .382

2

xviii CONTENTS

APPENDIX V

PAGE

HOW I PLACED A CONCESSION IN LONDON . 396

APPENDIX VI

THE ESTHETIC ELEMENT IN THE EDUCATION OF

THE INDIVIDUAL AND OF THE NATION . 413

INDEX ....... 427

ARISTODEMOGRAGY

PART I
THE DISEASE OF WAR AND ITS CURE

INTRODUCTION

What is the real cause of this war ? How can we The true

find the true diagnosis of the disease which has cul- thewar

minated in this dissolvent crisis, threatening the J to be

health and normal progress of modern civilisation ? the defec-

Some — in fact, the vast majority, not only of those tivemorai
' J J ' J conscious-

concerned, but of neutrals as well — say it is to be ness of

found in the militaristic aggression of Germany J^n world,
others in the steady pursuit of an end, perhaps more
remote, of the Pan-Slav domination by Russia. Be
it one or the other, or both, the fact remains, that
Austria, Turkey, France, and England, prospectively *
Italy and the Balkan States as well, are all concerned.
It takes two or more to make a quarrel. That others
should have joined in this internecine war is only
partially explained (it is only a moral " symptomatic
diagnosis " of the disease) by pointing to the various
combinations of alliance and ententes, to avowed or
secret treaties, to the various moves on the diplo-
matic chessboard of Europe during the last few
generations, or by the consideration of such phrases
as the " European Balance of Power," of the develop-
ment of colonisation, commerce and trade, and of

1 These have become belligerents since the above was written.

2 INTRODUCTION

endless proximate causes, such, especially, as the
influence of the armament industry. The moral
consciousness of the vast majority of the population
of the civilised nations of the West is directly opposed
to this barbarous, irrational, immoral arbitrament of
right by the uncertain, fatuous, grotesquely stupid
appeal to the brute forces of savagery and destruc-
tion, however much these be raised to the sphere of
scientific forethought and mechanical ingenuity,
however much — to use the happy phrase of the French
Ambassador in London — barbarism may have be-
decked itself with the showy attributes of intellectual
pedantry.

To the vast majority of the civilian population
(with the exception, perhaps, of professional soldiers
and those directly dependent for their living upon
war or the promise of war) war is not only a survival
of barbarism and savagery, but an absurdity. Though
all recognise the right of self-defence, the duty to
protect home and family and the community in
which they live, to defend honour and ideals, none
who are sane and sincere would admit that you
must slay those who are not endangering your own
life, whose aims and ideals are practically the same
as yours. To create a state in which the whole life
of the community is subordinated to the one great
aim of slaying neighbours generally related by race,
religion and ideals ; with whom the people lived in
friendly intercourse ; and to do this by subverting
all principles of morals, all standards of right and
wrong, of fair dealing, of honour, chivalry, and gener-
osity, on which life in times of peace has been based, —
is not only cruel and immoral, but grossly stupid and
insane. And yet, in spite of these views held by all
sane people, such a war is actually raging : families
lose fathers, sons, and brothers ; misery penetrates
into all layers of the population in every civilised

THE PARADOX OF CIVILISATION 3

country in Europe ; the rule of morality and sanity
is suspended for the time ; millions of pounds a day
are expended without any economic return, dissolved
into empty space — sums in one day, or one week, or
one month, which would have advanced social re-
forms, alleviated suffering and misery of the poor
and feeble, provided for Science and Art and all
spiritual improvements, sums which in times of peace
can never be appropriated to such uses for the welfare
of humanity for ages to come. Was there ever such
a tragic paradox, such glaring contradiction between
conviction and actual profession, between faith and
action, between what we believe and what we do ?

How came modern civilisation to end in such a
paradox ? For the true answer to this question we
must consider not only the direct actions of Germany
and Russia, but also the less direct international
policy of all the other civilised nations ; it is to be
found much deeper down and much farther afield in
the moral state of national, social, and individual life
within all the peoples of the Western world.

I shall endeavour to show that the real cause, the
real " etiology " of this universal disease, are to be
found in the fact that we have no efficient common
ideals or that we have false ideals, prejudices, and
one-sided figments of diseased or unbalanced brains,
which we have raised to the rank of ideals, when
they really are the outcome of brutal and lower in-
stincts. But, more than this, it is to be found in
the undeniable fact that the modern world has no
faith — no religion if you like — no clearly adopted
higher code of ideal striving in which we believe
whole-heartedly, and which can not only lead us on
to action, to great things, noble enterprise, complete
self-sacrifice, but will also regulate our actions even
in the smallest demands of daily life : moral stan-
dards which are in complete harmony with the

4 INTRODUCTION

firmly established and clearly recognised faith in
such unassailable ideals, intense and pervasive and
capable of resisting every onslaught of doubt or
scepticism in even the smallest constituent elements
of our wider faith.

What is needed, above all things, is to reconsti-
tute our faith, so that it should have the potency to
guide and to control our actions in every aspect of
life, unfailingly, as in bygone days (and even now
with less civilised and even savage people) there was
complete harmony between what people believed and
professed and what they considered the right thing
to do.

It is my object in this essay thus to show that in
this absence of ideals and of religious faith, truly
expressive of our best thought and of the civilised
conditions of modern life, is to be found the real
cause of this one sudden and universal crisis in
European history. It is also my object to endeavour
in all humility to indicate, at least, the direction in
which the reconstitution of our ideals and the estab-
lishment of an effective Faith for the future can be
found.

CHAPTER I

THE IMMEDIATE CAUSES OF THE WAR. THE DOMIN-
ANCE OF GERMAN STREBERTHUM AND ALL-
DEUTSCHER MILITARISM

Immediately after that most acute crisis in the re- The re-
lations between England and Germany in 191 1, when great
the railway strike in England threatened to develop European

J ° r war in

into a general strike, paralysing trade and communi- 191 1.
cations throughout the British Isles, and when this
critical moment was seized by Germany, through the
Agadir incident, for action which nearly provoked a
war, I had a most interesting and deeply significant
conversation with one of the leading German statesmen
then resident in England. I am firmly convinced that
he was not only a most honourable man, who combined
an intense and loyal patriotism with high ideals for
humanity as a whole, but was also truly and sincerely
an Anglophile, anxious to maintain cordial relations
between Germany and Great Britain, two nations
whose vocation in history it was jointly to advance
the cause of civilisation. Besides ourselves there was
present one other person, deeply and intimately
concerned in adjusting labour disputes and thor-
oughly acquainted with labour difficulties all over
the world. The crisis threatening the maintenance
of peace between Germany and England had by
that time practically passed away, and our own labour
troubles were on the way to final settlement. My
friend, the authority on labour questions, had just

5

6 THE IMMEDIATE CAUSES OF THE WAR

informed us that there were signs of a threat of
similar troubles in one of the continental countries,
and had dwelt upon the sympathetic responsiveness
of every country to the strikes and labour troubles
of their neighbours. He predicted that this respon-
siveness would grow and might lead to more thor-
oughly organised international labour movements.

It was then that I ventured to express my con-
viction as regards the possibility of a great, if not a
universal, war in the future. To me it then appeared
— and I endeavoured to formulate my views — that
the future history of civilisation depended on the
relative rapidity in progress and realisibility of two
opposed movements and aims, held by the two chief
contending forces and camps : the peaceful workers
in the world and the militarists. It was entirely a
question which of the opposed purposes held by the
two forces determining the fate of the world would
arrive at fruition first : whether militarism — which
made for war — or true democracy — the people realis-
ing its own power, and conscious not only of its
interests, but its ideals — which made for peace, would
win the day. The fate of the world hung upon the
question of time as to which of these two forces
would realise itself first in power and organisation
so as to impose its aims upon the world. Since the
general strike, though abortive for the time, had been
resorted to in St. Petersburg in 1905, the labour
men throughout the world had realised the power
in their hands to decide eventually upon war or
peace ; and even though war were declared by any
country, to make it impossible for any government
to wage it. The labour parties all over the world
were becoming internationalised, as capital on its
side was more and more effectually internationalised.
Moreover, it was equally manifest to me that the
several governments and military authorities were

LABOUR ORGANISATION AND MILITARISM 7

beginning to realise this fact of primary importance.
It therefore appeared to me that in the immediate
future it was all a question as to whether the labour
men (the practical, not the theoretical pacifists)
would arrive at the realisation of their power before
the militarists had forced a war upon us, or whether
the military powers would anticipate this result, and
within the next few years would force a war upon
the world. If they delayed in their purpose, and
even a few more years were to pass without conflict,
the world would no longer tolerate such a war, and
some form of permanent peace — though not neces-
sarily peace from internal and wider social revolu-
tions— would be ensured. What I feared was, that
those convinced of the need for war and those inter-
ested in the maintenance of armies and military
prestige, and all that it implied, would anticipate
events in the undisturbed development of social
forces and would precipitate a war upon us. My
German diplomatic friend listened attentively, and
for an answer, nodding his head with a suggestion
of consent and approval, simply and with manifest
reticence remarked : Sie konnen nicht unrecht haben
(You may not be wrong).

Now German militarism has won the day and has German
brought about this disastrous war — more disastrous ^j.Iita^m
than any the world has yet seen. Not wishing to war upon
delay war (the possibility of which in the future f9Y4#pem
thus hung in the balance) any longer than necessary,
and deeming the autumn of 191 4 the most propitious
moment for the coincidence and confluence of many
factors favourable to German aggression, war was
declared, and was forced upon Europe at exactly
that date. It was one of the doctrines, openly
admitted by the German war-party, that the reasons
for a declaration of war, if they do not manifestly
exist, can always be created. This is borne out by

8 THE IMMEDIATE CAUSES OF THE WAR

past history, and is clearly put by Nippold in his
book on German Chauvinism * when he wrote in
1913 :

" The quintessence of their [the German Chau-
vinists'] doctrine is always the same : A European
war is not only an eventuality against which one must
guard oneself, but a necessity, moreover one which
in the interest of the German nation one ought to
accept with joy. . . . In the eyes of these agitators
the German nation requires a war ; a long peace is
to their mind in itself regrettable, and it does not
matter whether a reason for such a war exists or
not ; therefore, such a cause must if necessary simply
be produced."

August That August 19 14 was thus the most favourable
most 6 moment is clear from the fact that the new army
favour- organisation was completed and in working order ;
ment for that the strategic railways on the eastern and western
Ger_ , frontiers were completed ; and that the extension

many s •* *

premedi- of the Kiel Canal had also been carried out. As re-
gards the unfavourable position of the Powers of
the Triple Entente : Russia had not developed her
own strategic railways, nor reorganised her army,
both of which she was actively engaged in doing, and
expected to have completed about three years later ;
moreover, at that moment she was in the throes of
labour difficulties, corresponding in some degree to
those of England two years previously, which had
then set in motion aggressive movements against us
by Germany. France could not yet count upon the
complete fruition of the revised Army Bill which
would bring her numbers to the required proportion
for resistance against Germany ; moreover, scandals
concerning the equipment of the army had been
brought before the public through debates in the

1 Der Deutsche Chauvinismus.

tated
war.

THE PROPITIOUS MOMENT 9

Chamber, and had shown great unpreparedness for
war, weakness and disorganisation in the French
Army. Finally, England was in the throes of one
of the most serious internal crises, owing to the dead-
lock in the solution of the Irish question, and, in
the eyes of incompetent German diplomats, a revolu-
tion seemed not improbable, and even more probable
should a war be forced upon England at that moment.
I have the best authority for maintaining that the
ruling powers of Germany were absolutely convinced
that England was not prepared to join the other
Powers of the Triple Entente, and would in all
circumstances remain at least neutral. Thus the
only factor in which that moment was least favour-
able to German aggression, namely, the exceptional
readiness of the mobilised British Fleet, could in the
estimation of the Kaiser and the German Foreign
Office be discounted, because they felt confident that
England would not join in a war, at any rate not
at the beginning.

But, over and above all these considerations, which The most
made that moment the most propitious for a declara- 53JJ?11*
tion of war on the part of Germany, was the very neither
fact for which the Germans might be able to claim nor^ng-
disinterestedness of motive — namely, that the war fond, but
on the face of it was caused by a question primarily could be
concerning Austria-Hungary and not Germany, and defe~
that its immediate cause was clearly one which the pri-
appealed to the sense of law and morality in people mary' the

rr . . aggreS-

all the world over. For in the first instance it meant sive
a protest against murder and the vilest form ofenemy'
assassination of a man and a woman who were repre-
sentative of the sovereignty of the great Austrian
Empire. It could be claimed — apart from all the
political bearings of that assassination, its origin and
connection with the anti-Serbian policy of Austria
in the immediate past and for many years before

io THE IMMEDIATE CAUSES OF THE WAR

that date, and even with the suspicion that Austria
herself was not free from collusion in this political
crime of assassination — it could be claimed, I say,
that morally a great Power was justified in punishing
a heinous crime, recognised as such by the whole
civilised world, and in taking steps that such crimes
should not occur again.
The Slav There was thus a favourable element in this appeal
and the to common justice, as regards the individual inci-
dent out of which this war, concerning the national
interests and aspirations of all the countries, grew.
There was further a claim to disinterestedness on
Germany's part as the matter primarily concerned
her ally and not herself. But above all — and this I
wish to emphasise — the most important element was
the fact that the chief antagonist of the Germanic
powers in this international quarrel with the Entente
Powers was not Anglo-Saxon England or Latin France,
but the Slav world — Serbia, behind whom stood
Russia. The chief antagonists in this great war
could thus be clearly and distinctly defined as Russia
and the Teutonic powers, the Slav and the Teuton.
This was the most important and decisive factor in
the whole confluence of circumstances which made
for war and could justify it in the eyes of the Ger-
man people and of the whole world. At the beginning
of the war this element was utilised to the full by
the German Government, the German press, and
every organ of publicity which could affect the
German nation itself and the neutral peoples of the
civilised world. The antagonism was clearly defined
as lying between Germany and her allies and Russia
and her allies, between the Teuton and the Slav,
between Germanic culture and Slav culture. Further-
more, on the wider political side it could be used to
symbolise the conflict between benighted autocracy
and despotism, represented by Russia, and the en-

SLAV AND TEUTON n

lightenment of progressive Germany. This fact was
of supreme importance in the beginnings of this war
and remains so to this day. It not only won over
all the possible liberal opponents to war in Germany
itself, but it also won over, or at least caused to
waver in their adherence and sympathy, the liberal
elements in many of the neutral countries — especially
those who appreciated and valued German culture,
science, and art, and equally opposed and deplored
the autocratic rule and the benighted social degrada-
tion of the Russian people. Had this war been
primarily declared by Germany against France or
against England on any contentious issue between
Germany and these countries, not only the socialists,
but the mass of the liberal-thinking Germans, would
have been opposed in feeling and sympathy to such
a war, or would at least have been lukewarm in
their support of it. But when it could be clearly
impressed upon the national consciousness that the
fight meant the self-preservation of Teutonism in its
struggle with Pan-Slavism, that the ever-present
danger to Germany of being crushed by its all-power-
ful autocratic neighbour had come to an imminent
climax, and that the actual war was wantonly forced
on Germany by the Russian Tsar, who had treacher-
ously mobilised his forces against Germany in con-
travention of his plighted word, we can understand,
not only that the pacifists were silenced for the
time being, but even that a wave of patriotic
enthusiasm and of warlike determination swept over
the whole of the German nation, who from that
time on rose like one man to defend the fatherland,
and their Teutonic culture and ideals against the
ruthless and deceitful foe.

But here comes one of the most striking and
singular incidents in the history of national psy-
chology, as illustrating the facility, the stupendous

12 THE IMMEDIATE CAUSES OF THE WAR

At agiven levity, with which a whole nation can be duped and
England its deepest convictions turned from one direction to
jfsubsti- another within a few days, even to the very opposite
Russia as pole of the dominant passion which had before swayed
m6 P"oe mi^i°ns- At a given moment Russia was deposed
from the post of supreme culpability and enmity and
England was substituted in her place. Since then there
are manifest signs of attempts (such as those made
in the letters of Herr Ballin published in the Times
of April 23, 191 5) to deny the initial antagonism
against Russia, because of equally manifest diplo-
matic motives, if possible to drive a wedge into the
Triple Entente and to bring about an understanding
between reactionary, autocratic Russia and mili-
taristic and autocratic Germany. But the one out-
standing fact is that the doctrine of hate against
England, established and preached for a number of
years in the immediate past in more or less open and
avowed forms, has now become the all-powerful and
all-pervading motive of German official and popular
patriotism. Evidence now furnished proves beyond
all possible doubt that this plan and its supreme
end were in the mind of the militaristic section of
the German people for a number of years past, and
that this militaristic section has gained full domin-
ation over the whole of the united German people.
The long- The programme of the Alldeutsche Partei, the Wehr-
Xhedpro- herein, and other smaller organisations, as laid down,
gramme not only in the well-known book of Bernhardi, but
AU_ in numerous documents and in all the speeches made
deutsche by the representatives of these parties, was step by
carried step adopted in its completeness by the German
^°u|^ Government with the Kaiser at its head. The

in its en-

tirety Alldeutsche Partei, which in the past was supposed to

present ^e, anc* definitely maintained by German authorities

Govern- to be, a negligible minority, now has absolute and

men * undisputed control of the fate of the German nation.

GERMAN EXPANSION 13

But even at the time that diplomatic negotiations
preceding the outbreak of the war were progressing,
and on the actual declaration of war, this aggressive
programme had for all practical purposes already been
adopted. It can be shown beyond all doubt that
the war was begun by Germany, not because of the
danger threatening the self-preservation of Germany
and of German culture from the Russian and the
Slav ; that the Teuton had no place in the Balkans,
where the claims of the Slav must be admitted to
be paramount ; and that, so far from the Western
Powers of the Triple Entente — (certainly England
and probably France) — being a party to Slav aggres-
sion, which endangered the independence of Germany
and her people and the development and expansion
of its culture, they had intimated clearly their opposi-
tion to such an aggression and even their readiness
to enforce it. The war was beyond all doubt forced
upon the world by those who were convinced that
the German race and German civilisation must
expand in extent and in power all over the world on
the same scale as the British Empire. Wherever
this expansion might be impeded or blocked by
British power and British interests such obstacles
should be removed by force of arms. Above all, that
the Teutonic race and Teutonic civilisation should
supersede the world-hegemony of Britain and should
wrest from its hated rival the possessions and pre-
dominance which English forefathers, under favour-
able circumstances of history, had won for England,
together with the numerous and grave responsibilities
and duties which Great Britain thereby owed to the
civilised world. How, within the last ten or twenty
years, this national programme, this " destiny " of
the German peoples, had been impressed upon the
German nation, with what systematic organisation
among the adult population, and with what thorough

14 THE IMMEDIATE CAUSES OF THE WAR

and far-reaching pedagogic training it had been spread
and fostered among the youthful population, who
are now fighting the German battles, in schools and
universities, Professor Nippold's book amply proves
by documentary evidence. The glorification of
might, irrespective of right, is the leading moral, or
immoral, factor in this national movement ; and it
has ended, as is now finally proved, in this ruthless
war of f rightfulness by land and sea, ignoring all
human feeling, human pity, all Christian charity, all
chivalry and military honour, dealing at the outset
with treaties as scraps of paper, and breaking the
national plighted troth in repudiating those inter-
national agreements to which Germany was a signa-
tory. It has led to the complete demoralisation, or
rather, amoralisation, of the German people.
German In the light of this supreme result of German
Kuitur. Alldeutsche patriotism, the invocation of higher moral
aims, conveyed by the cant use of the term Kuitur,
does not only strike the impartial observer as in-
sincere, but as grotesquely paradoxical. The highest
flight to which the apologists of German ruthlessness
can soar in upholding the cause of German civilisa-
tion is embodied in the letters published by the
Times, in which Herr Ballin and Herr Rathenau (the
director of the large commercial electrical works at
Berlin) extol German culture and German moral
elevation as compared with English degeneracy and
the idleness of the English nation, whose conception
of life and all the aims of science and art do not
exclude the cultivation of leisure, physically and
spiritually, in developing the amenities of civilised
existence. English culture and life are contrasted
with a German conception of science and human
existence entirely subordinated to commercialism,
to industrial progress and wealth — in one word, a
life of banausic materialism. But these captains of

GERMAN KULTUR 15

industry — who, with the ruthless militarists and the
penurious Alldeutsche Streber, now rule Germany —
show, with singular naivete, how their conception of
science, art, and social life, entirely subordinated to
the immediate and ultimate aim of material wealth,
has superseded all other ideals of German Kultur on
which the Germans once prided themselves, and
which they even now occasionally claim with mani-
fest insincerity, when extolling so-called " German
idealism."

Let us consider the comparative weight and value
of this German Kultur which is arrogantly put for-
ward as so superior to that of all other nations, that
it ought, in the Tightness of things, to supersede all
other forms of civilisation.

Concomitant with the spirit of antagonism as its
more positive complement, the Germans cultivate
an inflated national pride and exalt, far beyond its
intrinsic and comparative value, German Kultur.
Kultur, be it noted, is not quite synonymous with
our term "culture"; but connotes the individual
state of civilisation to which each nation has attained.
In the first instance, they contrast their Kultur with
that of Russia, and rightly maintain that it would
be a misfortune to the whole world if their Germanic
civilisation were superseded by that of the Slavs.
We may at once admit that we should all regard such
an eventuality as a loss to humanity. But, as we
shall see, there never was, and never will be, any
danger — especially as regards the power of Great
Britain to regulate or influence the course of his-
torical events — of such a catastrophe. Much as we
appreciate and prize the civilisation represented by
Pushkin, Gogol, Llermontof, Turgenev, Tolstoy,
Dostoievsky, Solovev, Yakovlev, Chekhov, Gorky,
Merezhkovsky, Krylov, Kolstov, Nekrasov ; of
Glinka, Dargomijsky, Rubinstein, Tchaikovsky,

3

16 THE IMMEDIATE CAUSES OF THE WAR

Moussorgsky, Boroudin, Cui, Rimsky-Korsakov,
Rachmaninov, Glazounov, Stravinsky, Scriabin ; of
Mendeleyev, Metchnikov, Pavlov, Lebedev, Hvolson,
Kovalevsky, Lobachevsky, Minkovsky, and Vino-
gradov— we do not think that the Russia of to-
day, and for some time to come, can, with any
advantage to the world at large, effectually impose
its civilisation on any one of the Western civilised
powers.

But these Chauvinists claim moral and intellectual
pre-eminence for German civilisation, and, appealing
to the world history which is " the final tribunal of
the world " {Die Weltgeschichte ist das Weltgericht),
they are convinced that the predominance of Germany
is thus morally justified, nay, is a necessary conse-
quence of any reasonable and equitable regulation of
the destiny of the world. Let us at once deal with
this chimera of German Kultur and assign to it its
right place. It is futile and childish to institute such
comparisons in things of the mind, which are im-
ponderable and ought never to be compared with
a view to establishing comparative claims of pre-
eminence. As Heine has said : " Who can weigh
flames ? " But when such a childish comparison is
forced on us, let us make it truthfully. Many of us
The hege- gratefully and unstintingly recognise and acknow-
Germaif ledge the hegemony of Germany in several depart-
cuiture in ments and aspects of civilised life and higher mental
depart- activity. We have profited by German achievement
ments. and have endeavoured to learn and to absorb the
spirit of it. The foremost and most characteristic
achievement of the German mind, for which the
world must thus be grateful and by which we have
profited, is the thorough and rational organisation
of thought and science, especially on the pedagogic
side, as embodied in their educational system from
schools to universities. This has resulted in the

ORGANISATION OF THOUGHT AND SCIENCE 17

most striking and effective modification of the whole
life of the German people, and is the source of all the
success which they have achieved even in the most
material and practical aspects of their existence. It
means the realisation of the value of the highest,
and even the most abstract, thought and science, by
the whole population, including the industrial and
commercial world. In this respect we have all learnt
from Germany and are still endeavouring to follow
her lead. But in the actual advancement of Science No such
and Thought itself, in the imposing of new directions ^e- ^
of thought, which puts a stamp on the spirit of the other as-
age as it directly advances each department of human civih^.-
knowledge, Germany has no pre-eminence over France tion.
and England. Our thinkers have thus contributed
as much to the advance of civilisation as have those
of Germany. Probably a strong case might be made
for the pre-eminence of both England and France
in this respect.

In the domain of art we may at once admit that pre-
Germany has in modern times led the way in music. ^qI™6
We need not go the lengths of Nietzsche and deny man
this by asserting that " a German cannot know what muslc-
music is. The men who pass as German musicians
are foreigners, Slavs, Croats, Italian, Dutchmen, or
Jews." Even if (as he asserts) Beethoven was Dutch
in origin, and even if Wagner, as he suggests, had
Jewish blood, the Dutchman certainly became an
Austrian German, and if Wagner had Jewish blood,
he was as much of German nationality as most
modern Teutons, and much more so than a Prussian
semi-Slav. The latter, by the way, has hardly pro-
duced any of the great men upon whose achievements
German Kultur rests its claims.

But in all the other arts and in literature, especially
within the last century, the place of Germany is
distinctly second to that of France and England.

18 THE IMMEDIATE CAUSES OF THE WAR

in the More than all this, however, in all that concerns the
jSfto**"" Art of Living," in the political and social education
political of the people, Germany has much to learn from the
standards Western European nations. The average political
—the education of the British people has for centuries

" Art of

Living" — been, and is at present, higher than that of the
Germany Germans : and their domestic and social life, the

second to '

France true art of living and their home-life, all tending to
England an<^ conforming with the higher standards of social
ethics, which have as their ideal the type of the
11 gentleman " — are such, that it would be a sad
day, not only for England, but for the world, if
military efficiency and power were to replace these
by the Kultur dominating Germany.1
ignorance But °^ tne &*$ anc* Literature of France and Eng-
of the land and all that home and social life in England
German mean, the German professors who have made them-
and the selves the mouthpieces of the Chauvinists know very
men as little, if anything. How many of them have even a
regards nodding acquaintance with British architecture — not
Kultur only Mediaeval and Renaissance, but since the days
andrance°f Christopher Wren — of the paintings of Gains-
England, borough, Reynolds, Romney, Raeburn, Hoppner,
Turner, not to mention contemporary masters ? How
many have read (though they may know Byron)
Keats and Shelley, Wordsworth, Browning and
Tennyson ? They apparently do know the works of
Wilde and Bernard Shaw ; but are they acquainted
with any of our leading contemporary writers and
poets ? And, as far as our national life and our life
at home are concerned, how many of them have lived
among us and entered into the life of every class of
the community ? I am told on the best of authority
that the coryphaeus among the political and official
university professors, who for years has written —

1 Further exposition of these facts will be found in later portions
of the book.

GERMAN MISINFORMATION 19

and, as an authority, has been listened to with con-
vinced respect by the German public — on England
and English affairs (Professor Schiemann), visited
England for the first time two years ago, when he
took part in the Historical Congress held in London.
On the other hand, I venture to state that there are
very large numbers of people in England and in the
United States who have spent years in study and in
travel in Germany, and have had opportunities of
intimate acquaintanceship and intercourse with repre-
sentatives of every class and occupation among the
population of that country. The question must
have forced itself on the minds of many, after the
experiences since the war began, how men with the
best of training in scientific discipline should have
proved so incapable of forming an unbiassed opinion
as was manifested by the various proclamations
signed by the most distinguished names in modern
science and learning. What to my mind is still more
astonishing is the fact that with the highly developed
sense of truth such as a scientific training ought to
give, they should have at all ventured to express
decided opinions when they had not at their disposal
the facts and sources of information upon which an
induction could be made or a judgment formed.
For I am informed that, while we here had before
us the German White book and published accounts
of the German communiques concerning the war, our
own White and Blue books and similar publications
of our allies were, until quite recently, forbidden in
Germany, a fine of 3,000 marks or thirty days' im-
prisonment being imposed upon any person found in
possession of such publications. It would lead us
too far astray to account for the mentality of the
German man of learning and his preparatory training
to explain the singular phenomenon of his incapacity
to judge fairly of matters political and international.

20 THE IMMEDIATE CAUSES OF THE WAR

But in this one definite case, it is enough to say
that most of them were not possessed of the true
facts upon which to base a fair judgment. In any
case we can account for the almost arrogant assump-
tion of superiority assigned by them to the Kultur of
Germany over that of the Western States, though this
assumption is in no wise justified.

CHAPTER II

THE OLDER GERMANY

There was and there still exists a German Kultur
which we all acknowledge and respect. This national
civilisation had its roots deep down in the historic
past and produced the generation which achieved
German unity, established the German Empire, deep-
ened and widened German thought, raised on high
and carried far afield the torch of science and of
learning, and, above all, instilled into the whole of the
German people and into the very air they breathed
the spirit of thoroughness. The Germans of to-day
did not achieve these results themselves ; but they
have received them as a priceless gift from their
fathers and grandfathers, and from these results
whatever success they may have achieved in peace or
in war has come to them. They have, in the present
generation, directed this vital and elevating force
exclusively into the channels of material interest,
have tarnished its brightness, have materialised its
spirituality, and have, and are, continuously dimin-
ishing the rich patrimony which the Germans of old
handed down to them.

The Germany of to-day is the Germany of com-
mercial Streberthum in the service of military force.
The age which has grown up to initiate and to carry
on this war will be marked as the apotheosis of Stre-
berthum. Now the Streber is not the impostor or
adventurer of old. He has learnt something and

The

German
Kultur of
the past
perverted
by the
spirit of
modern
Germany.

German
Streber-
thum.

22 THE OLDER GERMANY

knows something, and he might learn and know much
more. But no time is left for the deepening of his
knowledge and the elevation of its uses, because he
is swayed by the premature and superlative desire —
if I may be forgiven a modern vernacular phrase —
" to make it pay at once, and to get there at once."
The English and the Americans have their " climbers "
and " pushers," and the French have their struglifers
and their arrives. But these repulsive off-shoots of
modern commercialism are with us free from cant
and self-deception ; they are clear-cut types who
openly, and often with coarse cynicism, repudiate
all higher professions. But the German Streber uses
great phrases : he plays the part of the poor man
of science or scholar, nobleman or diplomat, or even
soldier. In the spirit of these individual Streber
the nation as a whole, which aims at power and
nothing more, whose professed goal is commercial
and financial expansion, will pose before the world
as the champion of Kultur ; and, a revolver in the
one hand, raises high with the other the school-
master's birch, threatening the world with pedagogic
chastisement to improve its mind and manners ; while
speedily dropping the friendly swish, it grasps at the
money-bags of its recalcitrant pupils. This is the
world and these are the aims of the Alldeutsche
Streber who have made this war. But it would be as
inaccurate and untrue, as it is unfair and misleading,
to believe or maintain that the whole German nation
is made up of such Streber, though, for the time
being, they have won the day in Germany and have
succeeded in imposing their own would-be ideals
upon the bulk of the nation. The older type of the
true German — not the Prussian junker, the learned
or unlearned adventurer — still exists and represents
the majority of the German nation. His ideals still
persist in moving and guiding the mass of the people,

THE GERMAN STREBER 23

however much they may be cast into the remote and
invisible distance for the time, and however much
his eyes may be bedimmed by the untruths, the sup-
pression of facts, and the misdirection of patriotic
devotion which the militarists have spread over the
nation. When the eyes of the sane majority among
the Germans can again stand the bright light of truth
which has been withheld from them, and they revive
from this fit of barbarous madness which has come
upon them, they will return to their true selves and
the fatherland will again be the country and the
nation which so many of us have loved and admired.

The Germany of old that has been swept aside orTheeffect
submerged by the Germany of modern Streberthum of decen-

tr3,lis3,-

and militarism, the domination of German Chauvin- tion.
ism, with Berlin as a centre of influence and focus of
vision, was really the product of the Germany that
consisted of numerous small States and principalities.
Through these and through the consequent system of
decentralisation, their Kultur which we admired was
called into existence and received its differentiating
stamp. It was at once individualised in these several
centres, giving varied character to the different forms
of spiritual life, and at the same time diffusing such
spiritual life into every distant part of the country
and into every social layer of the nation. It differed
in this from the culture of France and England and
every other nation, where the large capital, the
metropolis, was the dominant home and centre draw-
ing to itself all intellectual forces and all talent and
diffusing from this centre that one dominant form
of civilisation — and even way of thinking. In the
other European countries culture was not only
stereotyped into one dominant form, but, by irre-
sistibly attracting and centralising the spiritual life
within the metropolis, the various provincial centres
were drained of their talent and of their spiritual

24 THE OLDER GERMANY

vitality, and the nation at large, outside the metro-
polis, fell into apathy and lethargy in matters of the
mind, resigning itself to narrowness and inactivity
and spreading an atmosphere of vulgar materialism
and provincialism. German culture did not thus
become metropolitan ; it did not depend upon one
capital with a huge population, concentrating all
culture as well as all misery, but was diffused over the
whole country and throughout the whole people.

Idealism could thus thrive ; and out of this idealism
grew the quality of thoroughness which is the greatest
spiritual asset which the German nation possesses.
These forces again were favoured in their growth and
persistency by the decentralisation and particular-
isation of national life throughout the numberless
principalities, the smaller capitals with their great
universities and their highly organised schools. Each
principality had its leading theatres, opera-houses, and
concert halls, with highly trained artists, dramatic
and musical ; its poets and men of letters ; its com-
posers, painters, and sculptors. These were not
attracted to the one national metropolis, but pre-
ferred to live in the smaller towns and principalities
among the congenial society where they were honoured
and appreciated. The tradition of paying tribute and
honour and of conferring tangible and manifest dis-
tinction upon these leaders of culture was created and
fostered by the petty princes and rulers, even by the
civic authorities of these numerous centres of higher
life. No general or cabinet minister, or judge, still
less a successful financier and captain of industry,
could rob them of the distinction conferred upon them
from above and which was reflected throughout the
population. There was thus bred and fostered, as a
potent reality among the population, the hero-worship
of the " Knights of the Mind," of the representatives
of art and science ; and the young man of the day

THE OLD AND NEW IDEALS 25

in his dreams of glory turned to the vision of the great
personalities of a Schiller, a Goethe, a Heine ; of a
Beethoven and Mozart ; of an Alexander Humboldt
and of the great band of philosophers and men of
science ; and his imagination and his longing dreams
of fame were fired by these monumental figures in
the Valhalla of German greatness. He would have
preferred to wear the mantle of their sovereignty to
that of any of the great statesmen or generals in
Germany's past.

What a change in spirit has come over the German
people within the last decade or two, through the
influence of the Chauvinists, may best be appreciated
in their own words when, as quoted by Nippold,
one of their spokesmen, Medizinalrath Dr. W. Fuchs,
addresses the German youth in the following words : *

M Who are the men who soar to the greatest heights
in the history of the German people, whom do the
heart-beats of the German encircle with the most
ardent love ? Do you think Goethe, Schiller, Wagner,
Marx ? O, no ; but Barbarossa, the Great Frederick,
Blucher, Moltke, Bismarck, the hard men of blood
(Blutmenschen) . They who sacrificed thousands of
lives, they are the men towards whom, from the
soul of the people, the tenderest feeling, a truly ador-
ing gratitude wells forth. Because they have done
what we now ought to do. Because they were so
brave, so fearless of responsibility, as no one else.
But now civic morality must condemn all these
great men ; for the civilian guards nothing more
jealously than his civic morality — and, nevertheless,
his holiest thrills are evoked by the Titan of the
blood-deed ! "

The supreme expression of the last phase in this The Em-
earlier glorious tradition of the German people con-P^°rrg°

centrated round the court of the Crown Prince Fred-
erick.

1 Die Post, January 28, 19 12.

26 THE OLDER GERMANY

Frederick and his consort. It was through their
influence that Germany undertook, as a great national
feat in peace, the excavations of Olympia which
aroused such interest throughout all layers of Ger-
man society and filled the nation with just pride,
initiating a movement in that one department of
the study of the Hellenic past which caused renewed
activity and emulation in every other civilised
country. In the palace of the Crown Prince, and
later of the Empress Frederick, the great men of the
day in literature, science, and art were the familiar
and welcome guests. Helmholtz and Virchow,
Curtius and Mommsen, von Ranke, Joachim — in
fact, every leader of art and thought in Berlin— were
drawn to this imperial centre ; and every person of
distinction who came as a visitor, even those from
distant countries, found an honoured welcome there.
It has been said by more than one observer of Ger-
man affairs, not only that this war would have been
inconceivable had the Emperor Frederick survived ;
but that German national life would, on the lines
of its true eminence, have advanced to greater
heights in our own days and would have had a last-
ing and elevating influence on the life and civilisa-
tion of all other European countries and of the
world at large. No greater loss has been sustained
by the world at large in the death of one man, per-
haps in the whole of history, than by the premature
death of the Emperor Frederick.
Theedu- Above all, however, was this spirit of ideal thor-
oughness fostered in the Germany of old by the
system of education. The distinctive advantage
which Germany thus possessed is again closely knit
up with the decentralisation of its smaller States and
principalities. This distinctive advantage, in which
Germany differs from all other countries in modern
times, is to be found in the fact that in those days

cational
system

FRUITS OF THE OLDER EDUCATION 27

the educational system was constructed from its
highest manifestation downwards — it was, as it were,
deductive and theoretical and not inductive and
empirical. Education did not begin from below,
arising out of elementary or elemental needs of daily
life, and then, spasmodically and unsystematically,
work its way upwards in slow and uncertain and
irrational progression, as was and is the case in most
other countries ; but the direction was given, the
keynote was struck, by the highest institutions of
learning in their purest and highest spiritual form,
namely their universities. Pure knowledge and
systematic thoroughness were aimed at as the ulti-
mate goal, and up to this all the lower and more
elementary stages were to lead. Every one of these
smaller principalities thus had its university, where
pure science and learning were studied thoroughly
for their own sake. In those days, to a lesser degree
even in the present day, the smaller provincial uni-
versities could retain on their staff the higher repre-
sentatives of science and learning, and they produced
more remarkable work than did the great metro-
politan universities of Berlin and Vienna. The same
applied to their schools, especially their higher schools
or gymnasia. Many a small town (not by the excep-
tional possession of rich and aristocratic foundations,
such as some of our public schools have) was famed
for having some of the best schools in Germany. It
is a noteworthy fact that the present Emperor and
his brothers were sent to the gymnasium of Ploen,
a small provincial town, even the name of which is
unknown to most foreigners. Step by step, from
the universities downward, the schools and the whole
educational system of Germany was thus built up
on the thorough and systematic conception of purest
and highest knowledge. In spite of all endeavours
to the contrary, the Chauvinists and Streber have

28 THE OLDER GERMANY

not been able utterly to destroy this spirit ; but, in
spite of themselves, and unknown to themselves, they
have been able to profit by it in skilfully using this
spirit in their militaristic and wholly mercenary
tendencies and aims. Though they wish to replace
the spirit of pure science, learning, and philosophy
by the narrow standards of applied science only,
and though in their hearts they despise the bene-
factors upon whose efforts they live and succeed,
they have not been able to suppress the successors
of men like the mathematician Gauss, who drank a
toast to the study of pure mathematics in extolling
that study as " the only science which had never
The older been polluted by a practical application." In recent
ent?reiy0t years» however, the university is being more and
lost, but more replaced by the technical schools, the scientific
super-7 pursuits of which are directly made subservient to
seded by tne ruling spirit of commercialism, as the gymnasia,
material- the homes of the humanities among schools, are
lstrtber- Demg more and more replaced by the schools directly
thum. ministering to material gain. The spokesmen for
science and its claim to respect in Germany are now
the captains of industry like Herr Rathenau and
Herr Ballin,1 who glorify before the world the
achievements of German Kultur and limit it to the
complete subordination of all spiritual effort to the
increase of industrial activity and of material wealth.
They glory in the fact that their scientific researchers
have been ensnared and enslaved entirely in the
service of their great industries, and that the German
worker forgoes all the other amenities and recreative
refinements of life in the subordination of the soul's
forces to this one and only criterion of material
success and the final goal of all culture. That the
British people, like the ancient Greeks, could culti-
vate physical vigour and a common spirit of recrea-

1 Letters quoted above, p. 12.

THE TRUE SPIRIT OF SCIENCE AND LEARNING 29

tive social impulse in their national games and
sports, is to them a clear mark of national inferiority
and degeneracy. Some of their more far-sighted
countrymen always regarded the results of our
national sports and pastimes as a great national
asset in our favour and endeavoured, during the
years preceding the war, to introduce these British
institutions into Germany.

They would do better were they to remind us of
their past inheritance in their national and civic
theatres and concert-halls and museums throughout
the country, and the facility with which the popu-
lation at large can enjoy these means of spiritual
relaxation. It is in this one particular sphere that
other nations can learn from them and are willing to
learn from them. But their industrial success and
the realisation of the spirit of thoroughness which
underlies it was the product of the Germany of the
past, the very existence of which they have been
undermining, and against which their militarism and
the present war with its barbarous and degrading
methods of warfare are striking the death-blow.
Year by year, since 1871, Berlin is asserting itself
as the centre of German Kultur, destroying or sap-
ping the vitality of all these numerous centres from
which emanated the true vitality of the German
spirit. It is the home and fountain of all Streberthum,
which means the undoing of the moral and spiritual
vitality of the German nation.

Let us pause for a moment and endeavour to
recall a picture of the German as we have known
him, and let me endeavour in a few strokes to recall
to memory the various types of Germans who existed
before and who, I repeat, still exist in great numbers.

To begin with the most prominent and most
powerful caste. I can vividly recall to mind in
memory the personality of one of the rulers of the

3o THE OLDER GERMANY

lesser German States, who died at an advanced age
shortly before the war. He was, like the Prince
Consort of England, a successor to those princes who
created the Court of Weimar in which Goethe lived,
and from which an atmosphere of most refined cul-
ture emanated over the world. Well over six feet
in height and of military and commanding erectness
in stature, he had none of the stiffness and assertive
awkwardness of the typical Prussian soldier. A
soldier he was, however, having fought through the
whole of the Franco-Prussian War in a high com-
mand, and having profitably devoted much time and
thought to the theoretical and scientific study of
military matters ever since. But he restricted such
activities and interests to his military duties and
occupations and never carried the manners or tone
of the soldier into his civil life as the ruler of his
country, and still less into his private and social
intercourse. With his clean-cut and refined features,
his bright clear eyes and fair complexion, his long,
silvery beard, he presented a most attractive per-
sonality and combined to the highest and fullest
degree dignity, kindness, and gentleness. This gentle-
ness was carried so far as to produce a strong element
of almost childlike sensitiveness and shyness in his
nature, which his own imposing bearing and the
visible attributes of his exalted position could not
quite obscure or hide. I can hardly recall among the
many people I have met in my life one whose range
of education and intellectual interests were at once
as wide and deep, as versatile and as thorough, for
an example of which one naturally turns back to
the great personalities of the Italian Renaissance.
One figure in modern times at once occurs to one's
mind as being of the same calibre and quality,
namely, that of a woman, the Empress Frederick.
His school and university studies had been most

AN ENLIGHTENED GERMAN RULER 31

systematic and thorough, and were completed in his
youth by extensive travels. General education was
supplemented by almost professional training in
drawing and painting, which led to such proficiency
that the leading German painter of his time, the
elder Kaulbach, expressed his regret " that the
Prince could not devote himself entirely to the
pursuit of the painter's craft, as he would certainly
have won for himself a prominent place among the
artists of his day." In music his catholic and refined
appreciativeness covered the whole field of past and
contemporary art and led him to sympathetic sup-
port of the new movements which he stimulated and
encouraged, he himself being a distinguished per-
former. None of the arts were foreign to him, in-
cluding sculpture, architecture, and the decorative
arts. In literature his interest, appreciation, and
understanding covered the same wide field, far
beyond the limits of his own country and its lan-
guage. Well versed in French and Italian, his
English was imperfect ; and yet he strove to master
and to follow the great movements of English letters
and thought, and was one of the most thorough
Shakespeare scholars in Germany. The same interest
was manifested in science and philosophy. He
sought the company and friendship of the leading
scholars and scientists in the neighbouring university,
took the keenest and most active interest in learning
and research as pursued there, and was himself a
direct supporter of the more practical application
of science to the higher optical production of scien-
tific instruments, which have not only made his small
capital the centre of one of the most advanced and
scientifically refined industries for the whole world,
but have at the same time given an example for
economic co-operation and the direct bestowal of
commercial profit for the social betterment of the

32 THE OLDER GERMANY

community. Besides this, he was a keen sportsman
with the true sportsman's spirit, fond of horses, an
exceptionally good shot, who even when eighty
years of age stalked and bagged his stag in the woods
and laid him low in the most perfect style, avoiding
all cruelty and pain. From his earliest days to his
recent death he made of his principality and its
capital a centre of highest culture. He attracted to
it and held there, by the material and social induce-
ments which he could offer, the leading representa-
tives of art and culture. From the early days when
Otto Ludwig, the novelist and critic (whose essays
on Shakespeare will always remain a classic), was
resident in his capital, he invited thither the poets
Geibel and Bodenstaedt, the dramatist Paul Lindau,
and many others. He drew to his capital the
musician Hans von Buelow and many of the now
prominent conductors of Germany, to all of whom
he gave official positions in order to enable them to
devote themselves to their art without material care,
and at the same time made their homes the centres
of highest culture for the community over which he
presided. Brahms became his personal friend, con-
stantly visited the capital, so that his own home
was one of the centres from which the music of that
great master emanated over the world . The orchestra
of that small town was one of the foremost in Europe
and astonished audiences as far away even as London
by the perfection of their rendering of classical mas-
terpieces. The most widely known, however, among
these peaceful achievements was the theatre ; and
here, under his personal direction, a new phase of
modern dramatic art was initiated, which, owing to
the visits paid by the company to most of the capitals
of the world, marked a distinct epoch in dramatic
presentation. When we add to this that the capital
of this thinly populated principality was not long

THE GERMAN ARISTOCRAT 33

ago inhabited by not more than 15,000 people, and
now does not exceed 20,000, it will be understood
what the influence of this one leading personality
meant. To these qualities must be added the
gracious, kindly, and warm-hearted attitude which
he held towards all those who came in contact with
him. He was a true gentleman. Finally, I must
add that he was strongly opposed to the modern
spirit which he identified with Prussia and with
Berlin, even though his first wife was a Prussian
princess, and that he deplored the change in morals
and in tone which he saw coming over Germany from
that direction.

I can further call up to my mind many Germans
of the aristocratic class, narrow though they may
have been, and bred in a restricted atmosphere of
— to us — an unnatural survival of the feudal system.
These are distinct from — in fact, may be contrasted
to — the Junker-class out of which many a Streber
has been enlisted. Through their education they
sincerely believed that, by their birth and traditions,
they were differentiated in character, in manners,
and in habits from the rest of the people among
whom they lived. To the modern Englishman or
American the sincerity of such a conviction is not
quite intelligible. What makes it most difficult for
us to understand is the fact that, in spite of their
education, thought, and experience, their wide range
of knowledge and interest, their acquaintance with
other countries and peoples, and the widening of
their mentality through travel and reading, such a
conviction could still remain intact and sincere. But
the fact that they held it truly is beyond all doubt,
and is apparently explained by the fact that they
only applied it to their own country and people, and
admitted that it might not apply to other countries.
Yet, with the limitation of this narrowness of personal

34 THE OLDER GERMANY

outlook as it concerned their own social relation to
their own people, there was associated, as an out-
come of it, a high development of the sense of honour
and of the social responsibilities which rested upon
them. The merchant and money-making classes
and the pursuits which they followed did not in their
eyes favour the lofty integrity of their own principles
and conduct. They were pronouncedly unmercenary,
despisers of money, and would spend their gold
freely en grand seigneur or bear their poverty un-
complainingly and with dignity. Many of them
were men of cosmopolitan culture, students of the
arts and sciences, with the most profound respect for
achievements in every direction. Next to their own
immediate caste the " Knights of the Mind " held
the first place. In fact, in most cases they would,
if the choice had been put before them, have sought
the company, and valued the regard of, the repre-
sentatives of higher culture even more than those of
the feudal magnates. Many of them were keen
sportsmen, and, if only on this ground, bestowed
admiration and sympathy on Englishmen above all
foreigners. Their home-life, though retaining most
of the simple German characteristics, was chiefly
modelled on the pattern of the English country house.
Their bearing and manners were marked by reserve
and dignity, with strict maintenance of politeness
and affability, with slight reminiscence of German
stiffness, but with the avoidance of the typical and
assertive formality of the Prussian officer. Such
men would at once be characterised as men of refine-
ment and distinction and would be called in Ger-
many " Vornehme Herren."

I can next recall brilliant representatives among
the merchant class and manufacturers and the old-
established bankers. They generally belonged to the
former free cities, where their class had maintained

THE GERMAN MERCHANT OF OLD 35

social superiority continuously from the Middle Ages
to the present time, from Hamburg and the Hanseatic
cities, through Frankfort and Nuremberg, even to
the Swiss towns. The traditions of the old German
merchant, and even the leading craftsman, absorbed
by the modern manufacturer and upheld by the best
representatives of finance which dominated the
mediaeval life of the free cities, still pertained and
opposed their obstinate vitality of business honour
to the onslaught of modern commercial degeneracy.
To them a man's word was as good as his bond ;
the prospect of insolvency or bankruptcy was to
them as great a calamity as death itself. When
shortly after 1870 the whole of Germany and the
world at large were scandalised by the revelations of
the promoting swindles (Griinderschwindel) , a cry of
indignant reproval came from the representative
merchants, manufacturers, and financiers who upheld
the older traditions of commercial morality.1 These
men of sterling moral character had received a sound
education, generally classical, at the gymnasium and
at the university ; they had travelled much and
were conversant with several languages ; and they
made of their homes centres of higher culture in
which the arts were practised and appreciated, and
in which the literatures of foreign countries, as well
as of Germany, were cultivated by its members,
including the women. I can recall such homes
where the Revue des deux Mondes and the best
English periodicals were always to be seen and read,
together with the leading authors of France and
England, and even Italy and Russia. Few homes
of such cosmopolitan culture could be found in any
other country. But, not only in the towns I have
mentioned, but even in Berlin itself, such homes and

1 In the Reichstag it was especially the National Liberal party, headed
by Lasker, who held up these promoters to public contempt.

36 THE OLDER GERMANY

such social centres existed and carried on traditions
of previous generations reaching back even to the
eighteenth century. The letters of Varnhagen and
the memoirs grouping round the Mendelssohn family-
give a picture of the cultured life of such circles at
Berlin. The social tone, moreover, was more gracious
and graceful, more distinctly expressive of the men
and women of the world, than that of the higher
bureaucratic, militaristic, and even aristocratic world
of the Berlin of those days.

I now gratefully turn to another group of German
personalities : namely, the men of science and learn-
ing. Many of these were in the past, as they are
to-day, narrow and underbred craftsmen, who hap-
pened to have chosen a more intellectual craft in
lieu of a handicraft, upon which they have specialised
to the exclusion of all other humanising, refining,
and elevating pursuits and practices. But a large
number in those days were men of the highest
character, of refined general education, and of the
loftiest ideals and practices of life. Moreover, how-
ever interesting, typical, and expressive the type of
the poor German professor immortalised by Carlyle's
Teufelsdrockh may have been, the men I have now
in mind were not poor or circumscribed in their
means of living, with corresponding habits ?nd
manners of life. It ought to be more widely known
— for it has frequently led to important and far-
reaching misconceptions — that the German univer-
sity professor and man of science and learning was in
the past, and is in the present, in his material and
financial position, as well placed as the highest
representatives in the military, bureaucratic, judicial,
and even the ministerial walks of life. The men
whom I have in mind lived on the same scale of
affluence, and cultivated the amenities of life to the
same degree, as those of the wealthy upper classes.

THE TRUE SCHOLAR AND MAN OF SCIENCE 37

They travelled and widened the horizon of their ex-
periences and sympathies. But the whole of their
existence and mentality was dominated by higher
spiritual aims, which they recognised as being the
same for all nationalities. I have endeavoured to
portray such a man in " Professor Baumann " in my
book on Herculaneum,1 and have made him the
mouthpiece for the ideals of the true German scholar
and scientist. Such men will ever remain the types
of what is highest and best in human nature, and
will always be the upholders of the higher interests
of civilisation, however much they may for the
time being be diverted from their true course by
passion and ignorance of the truth.

When we now recall the tradesmen and shop-
keepers of the older days, there rise before us men
most capable in the pursuit of their own business,
thoroughly versed in its every detail, who took a
definite pride in their life-work. The tradesman
brought system and high intelligence to bear upon
the sale of his goods and considered the needs of his
customers, taking a pride in meeting their wants and
tastes. Where could there be found such book-
sellers as existed in every one of the towns and
especially in university towns ? The purchaser who
asked for some new book was not met with the eternal,
irritating questions in order to identify author and
publisher, usually ending up with the statement that
" it is not in the shop, but can be procured in a few
days." Such booksellers kept in touch with the
production of all their goods in every country and
every language. You were greeted by them almost
as a literary friend and met with new information
or new suggestions about books that might possibly
interest you and to which your attention was drawn.

1 Herculaneum, Past, Present, and Future, ppt 181 seq, (C. W. and
Leonard Shoobridge).

38 THE OLDER GERMANY

They made a point of knowing your own inclinations
and your own pursuits, as they studied thoroughly
the markets of production. " Something new has
arrived from England (or from France) which I am
sure, sir, must interest you." Many of these book-
sellers were living bibliographical reference books
themselves, men of wide reading and high standing.
Some still exist in England and in France, but are
quite exceptional ; whereas in Germany of old they
were the rule. Now all these tradesmen and crafts-
men, outside of the sphere of their own business,
had their higher intellectual and artistic interests.
They were members of the glee clubs, were most of
them musical performers, and regular attendants at
the theatre and opera, which their municipal or
national institution made accessible to their class.

Even if we go lower down in the social scale to the
least intellectual occupations, the smallest trades-
man, artisan, and labourer, through his school educa-
tion and through the intellectual atmosphere about
him, was at least in sympathetic touch with the
higher domains of learning and of art, appreciated
and valued them and respected those who repre-
sented the spiritual capital of the nation. I shall
never forget how, when a student at one of the German
universities, during a walking tour with a party in
the Black Forest, we came to a small village inn and
were greeted by the burly inn-keeper. When he
learnt that we were students, he showed the greatest
interest in the universities whence we came and asked
us to which of the faculties we belonged, whether
the theological, the philosophical, the juridical, or the
medical faculty. To this man, and men of his stamp,
the universities were national institutions in close
touch with national life ; and, though they could
not pretend to follow the higher studies, they took a
deep and sincere interest in the work that was carried

THE TRADESMEN AND ARTISANS 39

on and did not feel that such higher intellectual work
was divorced from the actual life of the people.
Throughout the whole nation in those days there was
reverence and respect for knowledge ; not so much
because of the material advantages which it brings
(as is the case now), as because of the spiritual, and
hence the social, value which it presents to national
life.

Among all these people collectively there was, in
the last generation, a spirit of friendliness and cor-
diality, which indicated a kind heart and produced
what they call Gemuthlichkeit ; and this friendly
spirit was also extended to the foreigner. There was
an understanding of, and even an admiration for, the
" foreign " as such, the Fremdarttge, not the ignorant
English opposition to the foreigner and to what is
foreign. At one time — perhaps as a result of the
dominance of Louis XIV over the life and fashion of
the princeling-courts throughout Germany, as well
as the heritage of Napoleonic rule — this admiration
of the foreigner and the foreign may have led to a
preference over what was indigenous and national,
and may have encouraged a certain absence of self-
confidence, if not of servility, which led some true
German patriots to combat what they considered
the signs of Lakaien-natur in the German.

But in those days the German mind, like the Ger-
man language, showed its assimilative power and its
appreciation of the life and thought of all other
civilised nations. The wide-reading public in Ger-
many kept in touch with, and enjoyed fully, the
literature of every other country. The cheap popular
translations (sixpence or sevenpence per volume),
such as those published by Reklam, brought within
their reach, not only the most recent books of Eng-
land and France, but also Italian, Scandinavian, and
Russian authors. The wider public thus became

40 THE OLDER GERMANY

acquainted with the national psychology of even the
Russian mujik, as depicted by a Gogol, as they appre-
ciated the national music of every country. And
this widened their own national sympathies. There
was no country in the world where the mass of the
inhabitants were to the same degree capable of
sympathetic understanding of the life of foreign
nations, and where they brought towards all foreigners
such friendly curiosity, a readiness to understand,
to tolerate, to admire, and to welcome their foreign
fellow-men. All this healthy growth of moral, intel-
lectual, and artistic humanism underlying a friendly
feeling towards other nationalities has been checked,
weakened in its growth, and finally extirpated, and
has been replaced by an over-weening arrogance and
pride in their own superiority through the growth of
Chauvinism and Militarism, and has at last been
fanned into consuming hatred of the foreigner, especi-
ally the foreigner whose prosperity or position they
envied.

We are thus convinced that Germany is the aggres-
sor in this war ; but we believe that this war has not
been forced on the world by the German nation as a
whole, the heirs of the past spirit of Germany, but by
that section of the nation which represents militarism
and has for the time being effectively gained power
over the German mind. The mind of Germany, more-
over, has been prepared to receive these baneful
influences by the steady growth of Chauvinism since
1 870. From another point of view it means the domi-
nance of Prussia and the Prussian spirit over the rest
of the empire — the prussianising of Germany.

CHAPTER III

PRUSSIAN MILITARISM AND THE GROWTH OF GERMAN
CHAUVINISM SINCE 187O — THE GLORIFICATION .OF
WAR.

We all know what is meant by militarism in the Miiitar-
narrower acceptation of the term. In its wider c£u.nd
acceptation it includes a modification or an exag- vinism.
geration in the conception of the State both as
regards internal as well as foreign policy. On the one
hand, the guardians of national security, the <f>v\aice<;
as the ancient Greeks called them, become the rulers,
and their own special function, which ought only to
be concerned with one side of national life, becomes
the all-absorbing end of national existence : — all
national life is subordinated to the chief object of
wars. On the other hand, under the militaristic
domination, the State as a whole in its relation to
other States naturally assumes an antagonistic char-
acter, regarding all other nations as their actual
or potential enemies and fostering this inimical and
warlike attitude of mind throughout the people.
In one word, it leads to Chauvinism. I have on
more than one occasion defined Chauvinism, as
distinguished from patriotism.1 Patriotism is the
love of one's country and one's people ; Chauvinism
is the hatred of other countries and other people.

The culmination of this spirit of militarism, pene-
trated and saturated by Chauvinism, has found its

1 See Appendix I.
4i

42 THE GROWTH OF GERMAN CHAUVINISM

The clear, forcible, and uncompromising expression in the
S^iiUtar- writings of Treitschke and Bernhardi and many other
ism and prominent authors. However much it may be denied,
vinlsmin tne fact remains that these historico-philosophic
modem views, elevated to a definite theoretical system of life
^ermany. an^ morals, have penetrated into the national life
of Germany and have gained practical vitality. This
has been brought about, in the first instance, by the
action of the State in matters military and diplo-
matic ; by the systematic corruption of the press
both at home and abroad ; by the elaborate and
costly army of secret agents, spread all over the
world in times of peace, in order to undermine the
national life and solidarity of possible future enemies ;
by the State-subventioned penetration of commerce
and trade in all parts of the world directly subservient
to the chief military aims. Not only in these mani-
festations of military Machiavellism does this nefarious
spirit show itself ; but it has been systematically and
directly introduced into national pedagogics through
the schools, with a well-drilled and subservient army
of masters, even in the most elementary phases of
education. It has also found its way, through all
intermediate branches, to the very pinnacle of German
Education in their great universities. There the
leaders of thought in the highest regions of science
and learning become the responsive tools of tyrannous
State-administration ; and prove to the world how
scientific and literary education may be entirely
divorced from political education, and how these
leaders of thought have not yet acquired the political
insight and training of many a humble and illiterate
citizen or subject of a truly free country governed on
constitutional principles. Those who have known
the Germany of the past and the Germany of the
present realise this complete change in the whole
character and moral of its people. They also realise

GROWTH OF MATERIAL WEALTH 43

that, compared with the national life of the past, Moral
in addition to this dominance of the militaristic and nSd^0
Chauvinistic spirit, there has been insinuated into Germany,
the very heart of civil life a moral degeneracy more
marked and more virulent in its form than the
diseases of social life manifested in any other civilised
state of modern times. That it should have attacked
the German people in a form so much more virulent
than is the case elsewhere is, perhaps, due to the
fact that, since the great victories of the Franco-
Prussian War which made Germany a great empire,
and the concomitant and unique rapidity of industrial
development leading to the influx of great wealth,
the German people, previously poor and possessed of
all the virtues that go with simple conditions of life
on moderate means, have been subject to all the
physical and moral diseases of the nouveau riche, the
parvenu. Wealth has come to them unprepared to
withstand its temptations, and the virus which dis-
solves the moral fibre has, in their case, not been
gradually and continuously administered by weaker
solutions of its potent venom to ensure some immunity.
It is a curious phenomenon, that the Germans have
charged us with this very disease of moral degeneracy
from which they are suffering in so acute a form. We
are surely not untainted as regards this modern
morbus occidentalis ; and there certainly is danger,
in view of the more spasmodic and more localised
manifestations of the disease among us, that we may
diffuse and cultivate its germ still further, and even
that, through this very war and its final results, we
may suffer from the contagion of those German dis-
eases which have led to this huge moral crime in the
world's history.

For, even at an early stage of the war, even before
it had properly begun, there had been danger signals
lest we should be inoculated with militarism, the spirit

44 THE GROWTH OF GERMAN CHAUVINISM

Danger of of which will surely grow as the war proceeds. We

fromT^011 nave growing among us, and spreading its fibre

Militar- throughout all classes of the community, the malig-

Chau-nd nant disease of Chauvinism from which in the past

vinismin we were comparatively freer than other nations ;

ngan ' though we may hope that the symptoms of moral

degeneracy so clearly manifest before the war may

be checked by the sternness of the national uprising

and of our sacrifices, and by the lessons which we

may learn from its sinister effects in the corruption

of the old healthy German life of the past.

I have said that even at the beginning of the war
there was fear of contagion from the militaristic spirit
of a Treitschke or a Bernhardi. Paradoxical as it
may appear, this peril has come, in the first instance,
from high-minded and high-spirited prophets who
vainly warned us against the Teutonic danger, which
so many of us failed to realise, and which we must now
admit they wisely foresaw. Nevertheless, in their
own anti-militaristic teaching there may be found
the insidious and hidden dangers of such contagion.
I will but take one leading type of these wise men as
manifested in the writings of the late Professor Cramb.
Treit- In impressing upon British people in the most

r^e's forcible manner the peril threatening our very national
on Pro- existence from the growth of German military power,
Cramb anc* *n warnmg us m time to defend our homes and
our position in the world as an empire, he has been
carried away by his dramatic instinct, and the exer-
cise of that rare function of intellectual sympathy
and altruistic imagination, to put the case of our
enemies in so glowing and favourable a light, that
the result upon the impressionable reader may be to
engraft on his imagination the spirit and essence of
militarism as Treitschke conveyed it to the German
people.

Perhaps also Professor Cramb himself, evidently

TREITSCHKE AND PROFESSOR CRAMB 45

endowed with an ardent imagination, attended the
lectures of Treitschke during the impressionable
period of his youth, and came under the spell of that
powerful personality, until he lost sight of the clay
feel of his idol, and, while opposing the doctrines of
the master as they affected the national life of the
pupil's country, unconsciously became, at least in
part, a disciple himself.1 For my own part I cannot
understand that Treitschke should have had any
such influence upon anybody, excepting a born
Prussian with violent Prussian prejudices. Nor can
I understand the high estimate which so learned a
scholar and versatile a man of the world as was the late
Lord Acton should have formed of Treitschke as an
historian. I attended several courses of his lectures
during the most impressionable years of my student
life when, fresh from my American home, I studied at
the University of Heidelberg from 1873 to 1876. The
effect which he then had upon the large number of
foreign students attending his lectures at that uni-
versity, and even upon the mass of South Germans,
in fact upon those who were not purely Prussian by
birth or in spirit, was distinctly one of antagonism.
His enthusiasm, his emphatic diction, and violent

1 This conjecture is strongly confirmed by a passage in Mr. W. H.
Dawson's book, What is Wrong with Germany ? perhaps the ablest book
produced by this war. On p. 38 and the following pages Mr. Dawson,
who attended Treitschke' s lectures in 1875, gives a masterly portrait
of Treitschke, the lecturer, and shows the influence he had on his
audience. He endeavours to distribute light and shade, praise and
blame, justly, and ends his strong summary with the following words :
" Even at this long distance of time, the instincts of loyalty and
gratitude refuse to be overborne, and I confess that I, for one, am
still as unredeemed, that were I required to throw stones at Heinrich
von Treitschke, I should wish my stones to be pebbles, and when I
throw them I should want to run away." This passage does much
credit to the sense of delicacy and the loyalty of Mr. Dawson. But
such was not the effect produced upon my English and American
fellow-students who attended Treitschke's lectures at Heidelberg in
1873.

46 THE GROWTH OF GERMAN CHAUVINISM

assertiveness were all expressive of the Prussian
spirit in its most unattractive form ; and the ruth-
lessness (tactlessness would be too mild a term, as
he would have repudiated any claims to such refined
social virtues) with which he disregarded and directly
offended the national or social sensibilities of many
of his hearers showed how he was imbued, not
necessarily with the greatness, but certainly with the
brutal force, of Bismarckian principles of blood and
iron.1

To summarise the chief impression which his per-
sonality made upon us foreigners, I should say that
we were all strongly impressed with the fact that he
was not what we should call a gentleman. On the
other hand, I believe he himself would have accepted
this stricture and would have gloried in the fact that
he did not approve of such an ideal. Were he still
alive he might himself have urged, as recently has
been done — if the report be true — that that term,
hitherto adopted in the vocabulary of the German
language, should be expunged and replaced by a new
German word ein Ganzermann (a wholeman) 1 It also
appeared to us, and does so to many highly qualified
historical scholars now, that he was not a true
historian, according to the old-established higher
conception of that type, of which so many represen-
tatives have been given to the world by Germany.
I mean those who were primarily and ultimately

1 Let me but quote one illustrative instance, though I could show
how (with many English, American, and French students among his
pupils) he constantly made insulting, and sometimes grossly ignorant,
remarks about their national characteristics, their political ideals, and
even their social habits. In referring to the Balkan peoples, though
he knew that there were several Bulgarian, Servian, and Rumanian
students in his class, he roared out in a voice and with gestures indi-
cative of a mixture between anger and contempt : " Serben, Bulgaren,
und Walachen — und wie diese schweinetreibende Volker alle heissen
tnogen I " ("Serbians, Bulgarians, and Walachians, and whatever else
these swine-driving peoples may be called ").

TREITSCHKE'S POLITICAL SUBSERVIENCY 47

imbued with the scientific Eros, the almost religious
striving for pure and unalloyed truth, the devout and
humble servants of the goddess Wissenschaft (Science).
At best he could be called a publicist, swayed by the
spirit of the journalist (whom he despised), consciously
subordinating his search after truth and his study of
the past to the fixed demands of a living policy ; full
of what the Germans in science and art stigmatise as
a grave fault, the dominance of Tendenz, the fixed
aim, prejudicial to the appreciation of truth, direct-
ing the tendency towards an immediate and personal
goal.

He was thus one of the many who since 1870 have The de-
consciously endeavoured to undermine the highest q^°*
Germanic spirit of philosophy and thoroughness in idealism
science, of purity in ideal strivings — the real Kultur, ^fh'the
which with its army of scholars and students Germany influence
gave to the world. He thus became one who in- marck"
directly led to the establishment of that Streber-
thum, to which I referred above, centred in Berlin,
and percolating through all the towns and villages
of the provinces, which has been destroying all Ger-
man idealism and has put into the hands of the
militaristic leaders the tools with which to effect their
nefarious purposes. Frequently appealing to the
authority of Bismarck in his lectures, I remember
his quoting a saying of the great statesman, directly
affecting the system of education in the German
universities, and this applied to the faculties of juris-
prudence, history, and political science : " Ich will
keine Kreisrichter haben " ("I do not want trained
magistrates " — marking the first step in the juridical
and administrative career) ; nor did he want pure
scientists or scholars, unless they could be made
subservient to his political ends ; but he did want
diplomatic and skilful politicians who could be
directly used for State purposes. How different this

5

48 THE GROWTH OF GERMAN CHAUVINISM

spirit is from that in which the high ideals of science,
scholarship, and philosophy reigned supreme in the
universities, where the pure, supreme, and ultimate
goal of university life was untainted by ulterior and
lower motives — a spirit which we in England and in
America, and even in France, admired and respected,
and which for some years past we have been en-
deavouring to infuse into our own academic life.
Germany, on the other hand, has been and is doing
her best to quench its fire and to exalt the lower
mentality arising out of the natural conditions of
English and American enterprise, the dominance of
which the best minds in both these nations are
endeavouring to counteract, in part by the inspira-
tion which came from the older Germany.
Bismarck This spirit of disintegration which has steadily
the°po- undermined the good which Germany possessed
nticai before 1870 — though, of course, great bodies and the

education ' e ° , , . ■, . , . ,. .

of the very nature 01 the Good are slow in dying, this dism-
G^m^n tegration, working more rapidly and effectively in
recent years, began about the year 1871 and was not
due only to the new school of militaristic leaders
and of servile professors grouping round the Kaiser
with his Real and Interessen-politik and his com-
mercial materialism. It was really initiated by Bis-
marck himself, in his attempt to supplement his
successful foreign policy by (what the future will
recognise as the great failure in the life-work of that
statesman) his home policy.

What was needed to crown his great achievement
in founding the German Empire after 1870 was the
development of a great nation within, the political
education of the people and the consolidation of the
truly national German Kultur in its highest form as
it already existed. In these lofty and most important
aims the Great Chancellor failed. And he failed, not
only because he gave an inadequate constitution to

BISMARCK'S RESPONSIBILITY 49

the German Empire, and because he did not estab-
lish a clear and efficient system of political education
for the German nation ; but also because, in his
personal conduct as the leading statesman, in the
example which his own character and his every act
could give to the people, directly affected by the one
great personality who had their reverence and grati-
tude and whose every word and act became to the
whole nation a lesson to learn and an example to
follow, — because he repressed rather than developed
their sense of political freedom and responsibility,
the rights as well as the duties of a citizen in a modern
constitutional State. The tone of his speeches before
the Reichstag — in which he would even venture to
refer to his own health or the state of his nerves
for the consideration of those who opposed his
definite political proposals — was always that of
the Prussian non-commissioned officer, wounding to
the self-respect of the elected representatives of the
people and ultimately crushing in them their inde-
pendence and their training in the thoughts, customs,
and habits of parliamentary government. Naturally
the people as a whole were a fortiori repressed in
their political aspirations and deprived of the political
education which they so sorely needed. Only one
section of the community withstood him ; and they,
who would have formed the constitutional pro-
gressive section, were forced into the more violent
forms of socialistic agitation, claiming for all practical
purposes to be inimical to the State and to society
as well, outside the state in fact, if not outside of
society as it exists.

Still more did he contribute to the destruction of
the ideals of pure and high thought as established in
the academic life of Germany. The foundation-stone
of this huge national structure, the very core and
centre of the national life of the whole country, was

50 THE GROWTH OF GERMAN CHAUVINISM

Academic Liberty, the German Lehr- and Lern-
freiheit (freedom to teach and to learn). Though the
universities were State institutions, nominally under
the Ministry of Education, they were practically self-
governing in their own administration, and the election
of the professors was practically in the hands of the
body of academic teachers themselves. This tradition
was rudely broken by Bismarck's action, when he
forced his own personal physician, Schweninger, into
academic honours. The professors, the independent
men of science of old, had to obey and to submit to
military discipline.
Bismarck But still more destructive, though more insidious,
listed the tnan this direct crushing of the spirit of academic
worship independence was the manner in which science was
manen- made subservient to the will of the State, the research
thum.and an(j the thorough spirit of scientific investigation, the
it mo- purity and single-heartedness of all the striving after
noioJkS" truth m its highest and unadulterated form, which
chau- guided (and to a great extent still guides) the life-
work of the German savant. These were curbed to
the pragmatical service of a definite line of policy
which the great Chancellor knew how to impress upon
the whole nation and to make the dominant idea of
all life and thought.

During my student days this dominant thought
was expressed by the term Germanenthum.

Not only political science and history were defiled
and tainted into conformity with the demands of
Bismarck's political views ; but the studies most
remote from practical politics were made to fall into
line with the advance of the Teuton army. Chauvin-
ism, which in some form or other may always have
existed among the nations and the communities of
the world who looked upon their neighbours as rivals
or enemies, now took a more thoroughly scientific
and philosophic form, and widened its basis on a

vimsm.

POLITICAL PERVERSION OF LEARNING 51

broad ethnological and scientific foundation in the
spirit of Teuton pedantry. National Chauvinism
claimed an ethnological foundation. It was no longer
the German State, with its history throughout the
Middle Ages, a fusion of so many races constantly
changing their territories and dwellings as they
rushed to and fro over Central Europe, which claimed
the allegiance and love and patriotism of the German
people. Nor was it on the ground of the numerous
separate States and principalities and their variegated,
almost kaleidoscopic, history during the last centuries,
which were at last, by the supreme and heroic effort
of Bismarck, his predecessors and his followers,
welded into the unity of a German Empire, welded
together by their very diversity out of which grew
the fructifying spirit of their potent and character-
istic Kultur, made one by the very sufferings and
sacrifices through which they had passed during
centuries of cruel wars. In all this common life of
suffering, achievement, and heroism was not to be
found the moral justification for the foundation of a
German Empire ; but in a racial unity that could
be measured in terms of the dominant natural
sciences of the day, and of the youngest, least
developed of them all, the conclusions of which we
must doubt, namely, the study of ethnology. The
distinctive solidarity of the Teutonic race had to be
established. On this unity of race was to rest, not
only the claim for the unity of the German Empire,
but also its separate and antagonistic interests in regard
to the other nations, its rivals and potential foes.
From 1870 and onwards it is of melancholy interest
to note how the German professors, the free upholders
of truth and pure science, bent their every effort
to establish and to prove the claims of this Germanen-
thum. It was not only opposed to the Latin world,
to France and to Italy (which had not yet become a

52 THE GROWTH OF GERMAN CHAUVINISM

part of the Triple Alliance), not only to the Slavs ;
but, in so far as Great Britain was not purely Saxon,
to Great Britain as well. While on the one side
Germanenthum could thus be identified with a nation
opposed to the Italian Papacy, on the other side it
proved most expedient for the time to use it as a
lever, perhaps even a bait, to be thrown to the
socialists and to lead them to concentrate their
antagonism in a single groove and so to liberate the
main current of policy — against the Jews. Ger-
manenthum, as the supreme expression of the Teuton
world thus stood in direct opposition to the Jews,
the Semites. The anti-Semitic party was then
organised.

It mattered not that a great part of Prussia, and
of other German states as well, could be shown to
be of Slav origin ; that the names of many of its
greatest men should end in " ow " and other Slav
endings ; ■ that some of its leaders of life and thought,
and even its soldiers, were of recent French origin ;
that among the foremost men in every department
of life, from whom emanated the actual German
Kultur, were of Jewish origin ! The modern world
had to be split up into its prehistoric ethnical con-
stituents by a most inaccurate and misleading
scientific induction, so that the modern German
State should not only be confirmed in its imperial
unity, but should foster in its people an antagonism
which should be based on physical, anatomical, and
physiological foundations, and bring them nearer to
the animal world, where the difference of species
implies animosity.

^ The response and echo to this wave of ethnological
Chauvinism was soon to be heard throughout the
whole of Europe ; it aroused in France and in Italy
the same spirit of pedantic intolerance, and gave

1 Treitschke is a Slav name.

ETHNOLOGICAL CHAUVINISM 53

life to the Pan-Slav movement in Russia. Even
in Great Britain there were isolated and less powerful
attempts at a revival of the Anglo-Saxon spirit,
which in Freeman and others took the less violent
and more poetic form of the antiquary's and his-
torian's love for his own country. But in Germany,
during the whole of the period preceding our own,
though it bore some beneficent fruit in the growing
study of early Germanic literature and language,
history, philology, and ethnology were biased and
vitiated by the more or less conscious desire to provide
a scientific basis for the unity and dominance of the
Germanic spirit. Perhaps in the future, when the
history of the study of Ethnology is written, this
period in German research will be characterised as
the V Indo-Germanic wave." The last and most
characteristic — though certainly caricatured sum-
mary of all these efforts — the swan-song of Gertnan-
enthum has been produced by a writer of English
birth, Houston Chamberlain, in his Die Grundlagen
des XIX Jahrhunderts.1 According to him even
Christ during His sojourn on earth was not a Semite,
but embodied the Germanic spirit. It is interesting
and suggestive to note (and I can personally vouch
for the accuracy of the statement) that this book
was considered by the Kaiser the most important
work of modern times, and that it no doubt has
furnished him with the historical and scientific
ground upon which his political aspirations are
based.

Thus the foundations for this great structure of

1 An English translation of this book has since appeared with an
introduction by Lord Redesdale. A more amateurish and unbalanced
piece of historical generalisation cannot be found in the whole of
historical literature. Lord Redesdale' s introduction, besides bestow-
ing most fulsome praise upon the author, summarises and compresses
these over-generalisations and thus exaggerates all the faults of this
work.

54 THE GROWTH OF GERMAN CHAUVINISM

Chauvinism, in a generally theoretical and specially
ethnological form, were laid since 1871 by the policy
of Bismarck, and on these has been erected the
vast and complicated structure of active militarism
pervading all forms of national life. It has left its
stamp upon the whole spirit of scientific research.
It has consciously directed the efforts and the con-
duct of the whole bureaucracy, not only in the
Foreign Office, but in the home departments as well.
It has penetrated and directly modified the varied
and huge machinery of their growing commerce and
industry ; it has even saturated the very soil of the
land and furthered the interests, the financial pros-
perity, and the social vitality of the classes who live
by agriculture. There is not a single aspect of
German life which has not been shaped or essentially
modified during the last forty years by this dominant
Chauvinistic impulse, steadied and made permanent
by calculated pedantic forethought.
The Rep- The climax, however, was reached when the policy,
fond!' out °f which it grew and on which it fed, was directly
used by the State, and found ready to hand the
most demoralising and depraved machinery, another
one of the great inheritances of Bismarck's successful
statecraft, arising directly out of the victories of
1 87 1. This has, perhaps more than any other
factor, directly tended to vitiate to the very core
the national life of the German people, and has
even contaminated to some extent the workings of
the Foreign Offices of every one of the Western
Powers. This inheritance is the so-called Reptilien-
fond, the money set apart out of the milliards taken
from France for secret service in every form. It
has been used not only in the famous, or rather
infamous, Press-bureau of the Wilhelmstrasse, which
directly gained control of the German press by
bribery and corruption or " subvention " ; and, as

THE REPTILIENFOND 55

we also know now, of the foreign press in every nook
and corner of the globe as well. Not only was and
is it used for every form of spying at home ; but it
has established a band of secret agents, spreading
over the whole civilised, and even the uncivilised,
world, to further the ends of the Berlin Foreign
Office by seducing into treason the citizen subjects
of other countries, friendly allies, and actual or
potential antagonists. And, as the World-policy,
the Realpolitik, grew, so did this nefarious activity
extend beyond the great powers and rivals them-
selves, to the colonies and dependencies and neigh-
bouring peoples or lands which in the future might
turn to be troublesome enemies to any one of the
Germanic Powers. We have presented to our horrified
moral conscience the picture of a huge web of lying
and intrigue, sedition and treachery, at which even
a Macchiavelli might have shuddered with horror.
And all these evil spirits are now invoked under the
banner and in the name of Kultur ! Even in Bis-
marck's lifetime the central direction of these forces
which were to establish German Kultur must have
been most complicated and puzzling ; for every
country, even that of the allies, required curbing and
perverting into the course of German Chauvinism.
Treaties had to be ensured by counter-treaties, as in
the famous case of the Russian and Austrian agree-
ments. But since then, with the full consolidation
and the conscious formulation of Weltpolitik and
Realpolitik, the ends as well as the means of German
policy have become so varied and confusingly uni-
versal, that not a single country or a single people
or any of their dependencies remained which they
were not forced to consider as potential enemies,
and for which their Reptilienfonds could not furnish
the means of demoralising activity. From this
horrible and grotesque point of view of modern

56 THE GROWTH OF GERMAN CHAUVINISM

politics, what country could Germany fail to con-
sider its actual or potential enemy, including even
its own allies ? Contemporary history has shown,
and will still more show in the immediate future,
that Italy could not be looked upon as a friend.1
I myself had it impressed upon me by the very
highest authority in German affairs some years ago
in reference to a peaceful scientific propaganda,
that " Italy cannot be trusted." There remains
Austria. But the Dual Monarchy, with its motto
Divide et impera, is made up of so many separate
races and interests and parties representing them,
that a most exacting sphere of enterprise and activity
was constantly and continuously furnished to the
directors of the Reptilienfond, to further the Teuton
claims, to repress both the Magyar and the Slav
elements, so that ultimately, through the dominance
of Teuton Austria on the road to the East, straight
through the Balkans to Salonica, and by rail along
the Bagdad Railway, when the Austrian and the
Turkish Empires should become a thing of the past,
the German Weltreich should push its way towards
the East, and swiftly enter its course of encircling
the world. Imagine what definite corruption, what
huge sums of money it spent successfully to supersede
the British and Russian preponderance at Constanti-
nople in the time of Abdul Hamid, and then to
overcome the effects of the crushing blow to German
policy when that tyrant's rule made way for a violent
and liberal movement on the part of the Young
Turks, whose initial antagonism to Teutonism must
have been aggravated by Austrian annexations, lead-
ing to a boycott of everything Austrian — until finally
again Teuton influence at Constantinople became
so powerful that it could force the Turks into an
alliance and into a disastrous war ! Even their
1 This was written before Italy joined the Entente Powers.

IMMORALITY OF FOREIGN POLICY 57

allies thus became their enemies in time of false and
perfidious peace, and their action was directly destruc-
tive of national loyalty, of truth and honesty within
the realms of the friendly country. And as for all
the other States, their avowed rivals or enemies,
actual documents have revealed the monstrous
universal diffusion, their poisonous activity through-
out the whole world, civilised and uncivilised, even
to the remotest regions of the East and West, the
North and South. Think for a moment of the
continuous and persistent moral degeneracy which
such chauvinistic and militaristic policy implies,
and how it directly contravenes the moral principles
and the moral consciousness upon which modern
civilised life rests.

Let me pause here and show how dangerous may The glori-
be the exaggeration of that literary and historical ficatlonof
virtue of intellectual sympathy embodied in the
fervent appeal of the late Professor Cramb.1 For he
exalts the spirit of war on grounds which approach
dangerously near to national Chauvinism, such as

1 The Germans themselves have a strong rendering of our adage
" Man is the creature of habit," which exists in nearly every language,
Der Mensch ist ein Gewohnheitsthier. It is sad to realise how, even
since the above was written, the war with its constant repercussion
of impressions of horror evoked by the loss of human life, by treachery
and infamy of every kind, has affected the mentality of the civilised
world, has blunted feelings, coarsening and hardening the sense of
morality and chivalry.

When we recall how in times of peace the horror which struck
millions of hearts in every country at the loss of the Titanic ; how a
mining disaster, in which less than a hundred miners were suffocated
in one pit thrilled with sympathy and pity the inhabitants in distant
countries ; how the death of Captain Scott and his heroic fellow-
explorers was felt like a personal loss by people in every hemisphere,
— and when we then compare with these experiences the mentality of
all civilised people to-day, we realise how this habituation may lead
mankind at last to regard with indifference the loss of human life.
A few more sinkings of Lusitanias may find us unmoved by such
disasters. Nay, worse than this, even people of most refined moral
sensitiveness may not be able to repress a thrill of joy when they hear

58 THE GROWTH OF GERMAN CHAUVINISM

has dragged Germany from its moral and intellectual
heights of the past down to the very depths of the
diabolical perfidy of the present. We may admit
that every great act of self-sacrifice, individual and
collective, must, from some one aspect, produce
something good and something admirable, especially
when raised through its very mass into heroic dimen-
sions. The uprising of millions of people willing to
risk their lives for any cause has in itself something
inspiring, and points to an ennobling element in
human nature. Great masses of treasure and blood
cannot be expended without producing some possible
good. Institutions and charities that dispose of,
and spend, great sums must do some good ; but
the question before us is always : " Is there any due
proportion between the expenditure and the results ;
and what are the evils that arise in the wake of the
good which we may admit has been effected ? "
There is hardly a single institution, or charity, or
business, which disposes of large sums from which
some benefit is not derived by somebody. But it
may be found that the proportion of such good is
ridiculously small ; that the evils which it creates
or perpetuates are disproportionately large, and
that the employment of such treasures by a more
rational or more moral institution or organisation is
made impossible because of the existence of what is
inferior or almost wholly bad. We are bound, then,
to call such institutions, charities, or businesses bad,
and must reform or destroy them root and branch,

of the death of a mass of innocent enemy munition-workers, even
though the disaster may have been caused by treachery in their
midst.

The greatest curse of war, perhaps, is its lowering of the moral
consciousness, not only of the peoples at war, but of the whole neutral
world as well. The whole moral fabric, built by the efforts of ages of
good men, is apparently razed to the ground. How long will it take
to rebuild it ?

THE IGNOBLE ASPECT OF WAR 59

and erect in their stead institutions expressing the
rational and moral convictions of our own days and
conditions of life.

Where is to be found in modern warfare the
nobility in outlook or in practice ? See what it en-
genders before the actual war breaks out, in the
preparation for hostilities, not only in the concentra-
tion and the hypertrophy of the armament industry
and traffic, the evils of which in our economic and
social life have been so amply and convincingly shown
by many able writers ; but by the activity of home
and foreign policy subservient to militaristic ideals,
as I have sketched them in the case of Ger-
many. Consider the degradation of all the funda-
mental virtues upon which the moral conscience of
civilised people rests, the sense of truth and honesty
and loyalty for all those concerned, for all who con-
sciously lead, and for all the mass of the people who
semi-consciously or unconsciously follow ! Is there
anything heroic to be found in such duplicity cluster-
ing round the poisonous plant of financial interests, of
gold and silver, of money in its vilest form and uses ?

As to war in itself, though there be numerous
instances of individual and collective heroism, even
of chivalry, consider what this war of ingenious and
stupendously effective machinery for destroying life,
of broken pledges, of deception and trickery, means !
Are not the heroic valour and self-sacrifice entirely
submerged in the cruelty and deceit of modern war-
fare, so that the total result is complete dissolution
of all moral fibre ? We need not invoke the contra-
ventions of the plighted word given at The Hague
by Germany when unfortified towns are bombarded,
asphyxiating gases used, and Lusitanias sunk. It
is enough to realise what emotions and passions are
stirred up in battle in the breasts of people who
were presumably normally moral human beings in

60 THE GROWTH OF GERMAN CHAUVINISM

time of peace. I cannot do better than to give a
passage from J' Accuse by a German writer to bring
home to the imagination of readers the real influence
of actual warfare. He says (pp. 300-2) :

" A very interesting contribution to the solution
of the question, whether war develops the noblest
virtues of man [Field -Marshal Moltke] or whether
it does not on the contrary produce more bad
men than it removes [Kant], is furnished by the
account of a battle published in the Tageblatt of
Jauer on October 18, 1914. The author of this
account is the non-commissioned officer Klemt of the
1st Company, 154th Regiment, and his statements
are vouched for and subscribed to by the Company-
Commander Lieut, von Niem. The heading of this
letter in the newspaper is : ' A Day of Honour for
our Regiment, September 24, 1914.' The account
deserves — as a human, or rather a bestial, docu-
ment— to be printed in extenso ; but I regret that
space will only permit me to give extracts :

" ' Already we are discovering the first Frenchmen.
They are shot down from the trees like squirrels,
and are warmly welcomed below with the butt-end
of rifles and bayonets ; they no longer need a doctor ;
we are no longer fighting against honest foes ; but
tricky robbers. With a jump we are over the clear-
ing— here ! there ! in the hedges they are crouching ;
now, on to them ! No quarter is given. Standing
free, at most kneeling, we shoot away, nobody
troubles about cover. We come to a hollow : in
masses dead and wounded red-breeches lie about ;
the wounded are clubbed or stabbed to death ; for
we already know that these rascals will fire at us
from behind. There lies a Frenchman stretched out
at full length, his face to the ground ; but he is only
shamming death. A kick from a lusty Muskefier
teaches him that we are there. He turns and begs
for his life ; but already he is nailed to the earth

THE HUN 61

with the words : " Do you see, you B . . ., this is
how our bodkins prick." Beside me an uncanny
cracking sound comes from the blows of the butt-end
of a rifle which one of our 154's rains on a French
bald-head. Prudently he uses a French rifle for the
purpose, not to smash his own. Some of us, especi-
ally tender-hearted, finish the wounded Frenchmen
off with a charitable bullet, others strike and stab
as much as they know. Bravely our enemies fought,
they were crack regiments we had before us. They
allowed us to come on from 30 to 10 metres, then
it certainly was too late. ... At the entrance of
the watch-huts they lie, lightly and seriously wounded,
vainly begging for quarter, but our good Musketiers
save the fatherland the expensive maintenance of
so many enemies.' "

The account concludes with the picture of the
tired troops lying down to sleep after the " blood
work " : the god of dreams paints for some of them
a lovely picture. " A prayer of thanks on our lips,
we slept on towards the coming day."

I must add the further comments of the author of
J' Accuse :

" The most horrible features of this account are
not only the incidents narrated, but almost more
than these the brutal naivete with which they are
represented as feats of heroism, especially acknow-
ledged by superior officers and published in the most
prominent part of the official newspaper of the dis-
trict. It is possible that brutalities were committed
by the other side as well. When the beast in man is
set free it is not astonishing that bestialities should
be committed. But I have sought in vain in the
foreign press for the publication of such ' heroic
deeds.' That, after such murderous work, one can
sit down in cold blood and report such low horrors
to one's fellow-citizens at home, one's friends, to
one's own wife and children, makes the whole affair
infinitely sadder than in itself it already is. Of

62 THE GROWTH OF GERMAN CHAUVINISM

course the ' prayer of thanks ' to God could not be
omitted from the German battle-report. His Royal
Highness Prince Oscar of Prussia had to be cited
by Sergeant Klemt as admirer of the ' heroic action ' :
1 With these Grenadiers and 1 54's one can storm
hell itself,' the Prince exclaimed, and assured the
two regiments that they were worthy of the name
1 The King's Own Brigade.' The Jauer Report
unites — as is the case in veterinary handbooks where
a horse is drawn showing all possible diseases — all
the ' noblest virtues ' which war can produce and
must produce : bestiality, bragging, false piety, etc.
Whether ' the world would degenerate and would
be lost in Materialism ' if these qualities remained
undeveloped, I leave to the decision of the wise."

Did not the men who risked their lives when
aviation started, so as to develop such an invention
for the use and advancement of the world at large,
did they not show courage indomitable — the aes
triplex and more than triplex — of which the soldier
marching to attack shows no loftier or more self-
sacrificing form ? Nor doctors and nurses in the
sick-room ; the researchers who on their own person
make dangerous experiments for the benefit of man-
kind ; every policeman on his beat ; every one who
day by day curbs his instincts of selfishness and
greed out of due regard to the claims of his fellow-
men — do these not give ample opportunities for the
development of altruistic enthusiasm ? When we
look forward to the day when, consciously brought
up to a higher level by a universal education based
upon the ideals of modern times, not only will the
rich willingly give their larger quota of taxes to
further the needs of the State and of an advancing
society, but even the poorer and the poorest will
directly pay their contributions to the State so that
others should be saved from hunger and thirst.
Then will the sick, the halt, the needy be comforted,

SELF-SACRIFICE IN PEACE 63

the aged live out their lives without anxiety for the
morrow, the honest unemployed no longer wander
aimlessly along the roads. All great causes of com-
mon humanity may then be fostered by the immediate
sacrifice of the individual. Consider also the effects
of war (whether it end in victory or defeat) upon
those who have engaged in it, upon all those who
in reality or in imagination have passed through this
hell of internecine bloodshed ; when " Thou shalt
not kill " as a fundamental tenet for all civilised life
has lost all constraining meaning through the con-
stant repercussion of the slaughter of thousands,
fathers of children, sons of parent?, and husbands of
wives ; when to deceive and to spy and to try every
trick that may mislead and bring one nearer to a
destructive goal becomes a virtue ! Where is the
heroism ? It is noble to be a patriot, nobler than
to limit one's affections to one's county or one's
village ; it is even nobler to show active affection
for one's village than to concentrate it only upon
one's family. A good son, a devoted father, a con-
siderate brother, is surely nobler than the pure
egoist who is only absorbed in his own life and
desires. But the man who encourages himself to
hate and to slay his fellow-man, not because he is
vile or because he endangers his own existence, but
because he lives in another country and talks a
different language ; whose feelings for humanity,
whose ideals for the human race, whose striving after
divine perfection throughout the world are not only
limited to his own country and the people living in
it, but who develops active and violent antagonism
towards all people and all things beyond this narrow
range, such a man cannot be called a patriot !
Patriotism then turns to Chauvinism ; it no longer
is the love of one's own country and one's own people,
but the hatred of others. There is nothing ideal in
6

64 THE GROWTH OF GERMAN CHAUVINISM

war, certainly not in modern warfare ; and, though
every one of us must feel that it is our duty and our
privilege to fight for our country and to offer up
our lives when our national existence is in danger,
we should do it because it is our duty, as a means to
safeguard what is best and most holy in our national
existence, but we are never to turn this means into
the end of civilised existence. We should go to the
operating-table with composure and fortitude when
it may dispel disease, prolong our life so that we
can continue to support those who depend upon us ;
but we cannot consider the torturing and maiming
of our bodies as a supreme end of our physical
existence. The patriot must never allow himself to
be carried away by the hysterical enthusiasm of the
panegyrists of war ; he must not admit Bellona
into the cycle of his divinities ! Every patriot must
beware lest he become a Chauvinist who learns to
hate the stranger so intensely and effectively as to
lose all power of loving, and that the absorbing in-
tensity of his hatred will lead him at last to loathe
his neighbour and grow cold towards his wife and
children. For this is the end of the doctrine of hate.
Militar- Now this militaristic Chauvinism has found the
*?**f most fertile field for its growth on German soil. No
vinism other country and no other people, certainly not
fromdmg Eng^and and the English, could show conditions so
Germany, favourable. Perhaps until the " German scare "
began some years ago, no people were freer from this
antagonistic attitude towards those of other nation-
alities than were the English. They were hospitable
in spirit, and hospitality became a national charac-
teristic in every layer of society. Definite human
envy and jealousy may unavoidably have arisen and
shown themselves, especially where certain trades or
larger groupings of occupations may have suffered by
the sudden intrusion of more or less alien bodies in

ENGLISH FREEDOM FROM CHAUVINISM 65

definite localities, whether they were " foreign,"
whether they came from abroad or from Scotland
into England, or from the neighbouring town or
county. But Englishmen were ever ready to receive,
and even to acknowledge the qualities, in some cases
even the superiority in definite lines and character-
istics, of those who came among them from foreign
parts. Perhaps it may have been due to an under-
lying consciousness of our own merits, if not of our
own ultimate superiority, which made us indifferent
to those incitements of envy and jealousy. If so,
such self-confidence, even if at times unfounded in
fact, is not a grave national vice. But the truth re-
mains that we were thus — and let us hope will con-
tinue so in the future — the least Chauvinistic of
modern civilised peoples. Of all peoples manifesting
this disease to a greater or lesser degree, the Germans
were certainly foremost.

The main reasons for its growth on German soil Further
are to be found in two national characteristics ; the f^the3
one is the prevalence and intensity of envy as a growth of
national characteristic; the other is the absence, vinismin
from the national education in all its aspects, of the German
sense of Fair Play, which might have been the one and the
element exercising a salutary counteracting influence JP^1"^
to the spirit of envy. The Germans have their idea recent life
of honour, they even have their courts of honour, ^a^r"
and the duel, especially in military circles ; but these
are not effective in modern life to counteract envy
and to foster generosity. On the contrary, within
such social groups, ruled by such courts of honour
and appealing to the duel as the arbiter, they de-
veloped truculence, which is most directly opposed to
the spirit of Fair Play. Militarism, in its effect upon
the nation, counteracted the establishment and the
rule of Fair Play, until at Zabern and after, the official
Seal of State was stamped upon the prevailing power

66 THE GROWTH OF GERMAN CHAUVINISM

of the bully. One of the curses of militarism is, that,
while it, to a certain extent, democratises the people
collected together in military service to the State,
by the establishment of fixed ranks and gradations,
the higher grades having unquestioned authority
over the lower, it naturally leads to bullying and
weakens the sense of social fairness and justice among
the whole population.
Envy. If we were to attempt to single out, among the

numerous causes which have led to this war, one
primary and underlying factor in the national charac-
ter of the Germans, which, more than any other, has
led to this catastrophe, it undoubtedly is Envy. It
has almost become a platitude to say that people
are most prone to ascribe to others the faults which
they have themselves ; and we need not therefore
be astonished to hear it frequently stated of late
that England's antagonism towards Germany, and
which led to the war, was her jealousy, and conse-
quent fear of German rivalry in commerce and in
political power. It is quite possible that among in-
dividuals and among certain groups of people
competition and rivalry may lead to jealousy, and
that, as human nature goes, English trades and
occupations which have suffered from German com-
petition may thus have produced jealousy in those
suffering from this very competition. These cases,
natural though they be, are limited and isolated, and
certainly have not sufficed to produce a national
characteristic or a movement which in any way
would have driven the country into war. I venture
to repeat that there is hardly a nation among the
civilised peoples as ready, on the whole, to welcome
the foreigner, admit his qualities, and, by the exer-
cise of the supreme national virtue of fair play, to
counteract all the impulses of national jealousy.
Let us only hope and pray that the results of this

GERMAN ENVY 67

great war, the over-stimulation of the sense of
antagonism and of hatred towards others, the sus-
picion of the foreigner in moments of great national
danger, may not counteract this comparative freedom
from that most dangerous and lowest of national
vices, and may not end in encouraging the growth of
national Chauvinism among us. The symptoms of
such a danger are rife at this moment when the nerves
of the people are shaken into abnormal irritability
by the constant pressure of suffering and anxiety.

But with the Germans the national vice of envy
has been greatly stimulated by the recognition of
the fact that, in spite of their rapid and stupendous
advance in every direction within the short period
since their victory over the French, they have not as
yet acquired a colonial empire such as Great Britain
possesses ; that, owing to what might be considered
the accident of historical fate, Germany came too
late, after the colonial possessions throughout the
world had already been divided among all the other
peoples. This one fact, though it may naturally
lead to regret and sorrow in the heart of the patriotic
German who loves his country and believes in its
great mission in the world, and though it may move
us to understand and sympathise, does not justify
the envy and hatred towards Great Britain, nor their
criminal action which has plunged the whole world
into misery.

Though we can understand the conditions which
might create envy or encourage it in the hearts of the
Germans, we recognise that they have fallen upon the
fertile soil of a national vice which the Germans, as
Germans, possess to the highest degree. As such it does
not only turn collectively outwards towards other
nations, but it undermines and disturbs the whole inner
social life of the nation. This fact is recognised by
their own thinkers and statesmen and appears to have

68 THE GROWTH OF GERMAN CHAUVINISM

been their ruling vice in the early days of their
racial ancestors, when, as is noted by Prince Biilow,1
Tacitus tells us that " the Germans destroyed their
liberators, the Cherusci, propter invidiam." The
Imperial Chancellor, who knew his people well, says
of them : 8 " Just as one of the greatest German
virtues, the sense of discipline, finds special and dis-
quieting expression in the social democratic move-
ment, so does our old vice, envy." I remember
that one of the wisest of the German diplomats, for
some time German Ambassador in London, singled
out this vice as being the national fault of his country-
men. Envy necessarily produces hatred. The
Hebrew composite word Kinah-Sinah combines envy
with hate in one word and points to this causal pro-
cess in the psychology of man. For it means envy-
hatred, the hatred which follows upon envy. And
when this passion penetrates into the national system
of Chauvinism, intensifies its violence, and directs its
animosity, we can well understand the otherwise
singular phenomenon of the rapidity with which the
all-absorbing antagonism and hatred of Russia at
the beginning of the war, then held up as the one
supreme cause and justification of the national up-
rising, should within a short time have disappeared
from the public press and the consciousness of the
German people, and have been entirely supplanted
by the hatred of England, which finds its supreme
expression in the Hymn of Hate. This " Hymn " has
since been officially established as the national War
Hymn by a German prince and military leader.
This is, by the way, a very striking instance of the
ready servility of the press and the effectiveness with
which the Press Bureau can manipulate the public

1 Bismarck referred to the same passage in Tacitus and also con-
sidered envy a national characteristic.
* Imperial Germany, p. 184.

ENVY OF ENGLAND

69

opinion of a whole nation. In a few months, or even
weeks, the Russian " bogy " and the old French
animosity were completely dropped, and, at the
word of command, were at once superseded by an-
other " battle-cry " throughout the whole nation,
culminating in the most passionate and violent
hatred that even the history of barbaric periods can
recall. But though, for the time being, the an-
tagonism to the Slav may have superseded the in-
grained historical animosity to the French, from
whom they suffered so much in Napoleonic days,
both these national antagonisms but thinly covered
the hatred towards their " racial " kinsmen and
former allies, because this hatred was based upon,
and intensified by, the envy so ingrained in their
natures.

No doubt some disappointment and the frustra-
tion of monstrously stupid plans may have had
something to do with the momentary intensification
of their hatred of England. They may have been
sufficiently blind or unwise to assume that, in spite
of the gross breach of Belgian neutrality, and in spite
of the recognised fact that some agreement existed
between England and France, we would stand aside
without lifting a finger and see Belgium crushed, her
liberties trampled upon, and France crushed as well.
I do not think that England has ever been more
grossly insulted than by the assumption — quite apart
from the Belgian crime — that she would follow only
her instincts for peace, national security, and pro-
sperity, and would not stand by her moral agreement
with France to shield her in any case of unjustifiable
aggression. Whatever the exact legal definition of
this entente cordiale may have been, an entente cor-
diale did exist ; and if England had stood aside, she
would have merited the ridiculously unjust epithet
of Per fide Albion, and the world would justly have

70 THE GROWTH OF GERMAN CHAUVINISM

stigmatised us as a " nation of shopkeepers." What-
ever disappointment (and such disappointment could
only be felt by those wilfully blinded by the expecta-
tion of utter subservience of everybody and every-
thing to their own interests) may have been felt
by the Germans, and thus intensified their passion
against Great Britain, the real cause is to be found
in their national vice of envy.
Class- As the spirit of Chauvinism develops the passion

anden °^ hatred in the people collectively towards other
in Ger- nations, and as we realise at the present moment
many" how this is concentrated upon ourselves, this passion
manifests itself also as a dominant factor in their
whole internal life. If we take their characteristic
modern poetry as an expression of popular senti-
ment, we can find many an instance of a most
flagrant kind in which hatred inspires the lyric
imagination of their poets. We search in vain in
the contemporary literature of other nations and in
our own for such expressions. To find them at all
in ours we must look to the depiction, by an appeal,
of historical sympathy, of other ages and other con-
ditions of life, in which hatred as a passion is forcibly
conveyed in dramatic lyrics, such as those of the
poems of Robert Browning. We can thus recall
how that poet imagines himself a tyrant who finds
one independent spirit blocking his way and whom
he cannot subdue.1 Or again, Browning, where in his
"In a Spanish Cloister " he shows us the narrowing
life with its compressed passion of jealousy when
monks are herded together and personal antipathy
fans the fire of hatred in the breast of one of them
for another. But we have nothing in modern litera-
ture like the notorious Hymn of Hate evoked by
this war, and nothing in daily life like that powerful
poem of Liliencron's, the exponent of the spirit of

1 The poem is called " Instans Tyrannus."

ILLUSTRATIONS IN MODERN POETRY 71

modern Germany, which expresses as a dream the
most intense personal hatred. It is called " Unsur-
mountable Antipathy," and describes the almost
animal hatred felt by two people, causing them to
spring at each other's throats like wild beasts.

But this hatred springing from envy — and it is to
this that Prince Biilow refers in the passage quoted
— is especially marked in Germany by the envy of
one class towards another, leading to burning hatred
between them. It is only natural that those who
are poor and ill-favoured should covet the blessings
of those upon whom fortune has copiously showered
her gifts. This is but human, and has existed in all
times, and it exists with us as well. The recognition
of such inequalities in the possession of the good
things of this world may make socialists or even
anarchists of us. However, fortunately for us, we
cannot say that resentment and envy of the better
fortune of our neighbours have led to manifest
antagonism between classes in the daily life of our
people. It may be because with us the rich have
been more manifestly conscious of the duties which
their better fortune imposes upon them, and the
poor are fairer-minded and more generous of heart.
It may also be due to our free political institutions,
which through countless ages have given to every
man his chance before the law and his opportunity
of expressing his will and pursuing his interests by
constitutional means in the government of the country.
No doubt also our national sports and pastimes
have effectively brought us all together in common
games which rest upon the spirit of fair play as
the foundation of all British athletics. I can recall
that even during the heat of Nationalist agitation
and resentment about 1886, when the peasant
classes in Ireland were filled with the strongest hatred
of the landlords and the wealthier classes, that,

72 THE GROWTH OF GERMAN CHAUVINISM

while riding to or from hounds, the sportsmanlike
spirit was nevertheless too strong in the peasants
one met, and evoked a smile or a twinkle in the eye
of the brother sportsman, to be found in the poorest
labourer, and venting itself in a cheery greeting and
the question : " Had you good sport, and did you
catch him ? " Whatever the cause, the fact remains,
that the actual life of the British people in town and
country has not to any marked degree been vitiated
by the spirit of class antagonism and of social envy.
On the other hand, I can also recall how, while
riding through woods in Prussia with my German
hostess, I was struck by the resentment and scowl
in the eyes of the labouring people and the peasantry
we met, which seemed to express clearly the hatred
they felt towards all who were possessed of more
wealth ; until, passing through a village, we were
met by a shower of stones from the boys who looked
upon us as representatives of the favoured classes.
Envy Jealousy is unfortunately a rudimentary passion

GJeJm in man's breast and may exist wherever there are
into the human beings congregated together. But in Germany
Science! *ne Brodneid, the jealousy of trade and professional
envy, for which they have invented so definite a
term, is most rampant. It permeates all classes, in
themselves regulated by bureaucratic gradations of
rank, and sets one class against the other. Even in
the highest and most enlightened spheres, where we
might least expect it, owing to the atmosphere per-
vading regions of lofty thought, occupation, and
habits of mind, such as in the scientific world, this
spirit has of late years encroached. It has disfigured
the pure and noble type of the German scholar and
scientist who, though fortunately still surviving in
some splendid instances of a simple life, is gradually
g receding and making room for the new type of the

militaristic Streber in science and in learning. The

THE GROWTH OF MONEY-GREED 73

temptations of profit are too strong in a world con-
sciously ruled by commercialism, in which from Kaiser
and Reichs-Chancellor onwards Real-Politik and
Inter essen-Politik are preached to dispel the sup-
posed prevalence of idealism or dreamy Utopianism
which have long since departed from among the
German people. These temptations and the possi-
bilities of power coming from wealth have completely
altered the spirit of the old German savant, the
Teufelsdrockh of Carlyle, whom we read about and
admired in our youth. And thus in the laboratories
and in the " seminars," where the free interchange
of ideas and of work, when the spirit of unity in one
supreme endeavour, bound the commilitones of former
days into one serried rank of a scientific army advanc-
ing boldly towards the summit of truth — these have
all given way to a petty and envious spirit of seclusion
and of distrust among the workers, jealously guard-
ing each new fact that might lead to important
material results, until the rivalry and struggle for
priority becomes the dominant passion of the workers,
the modern successors to the noble and generous-
spirited men of old. We saw it coming after 1870,
when, for some years, there were signs of discontent
with the old order of things, leading to the prevalent
pessimism of that period. I endeavoured to define
it in 1878 in an article on "The Social Origin of
Nihilism and Pessimism in Germany " ; but ventured
to hope that it would tend to a more healthy change
and revival. In that article I said r1

M The German's nature is essentially and incontest-
ably an idealistic one. Idealism is an essential
coefficient of his well-being ; rob him of this, and he
will always feel its want. Everywhere our German
finds himself repulsed in his innermost longings. We
have seen how it is as to family, society, and woman.

1 The Nineteenth Century Review, April, 1878.

74 THE GROWTH OF GERMAN CHAUVINISM

What aspect does the inner man present on this
point ? His idealism is soon cut off by stern reality.
The young man who formerly lived from hand to
mouth, happy with the honour paid him, now
experiences, without such compensation, the mean
and depressing cares for bread which life from hand
to mouth must necessarily bring. The romantic
age has passed, when youths walk about with long
flowing locks and threadbare coats, and so entered
even the princely drawing-room, respected in spite of
their nonconformity, or even perhaps because of it.
Formerly a young man's poverty brought him respect,
and such a delicious vain self-contentment. He had
no mone}', nor did he wish for any ; it would soil his
philosophical or poetical hands. He had enough
to eat and drink and live on ; and was he not beloved
by the fair-haired, blue-eyed, dreamy Marguerite !
When age drew on he became a ' philister,' and,
either as a small official in some little town, or as a
professor or a librarian, he lived quietly on with his
wife and family, and revelled in the luxury of the
recollections of his youth ; his drooping spirits were
revived, and the material cares cast oft, as then
by facts, so now by the remembrance of them.

" Such was the Elysian life of the German thirty
years ago, and he was happy. In his cries and
lamentations against political institutions and social
states, one could always trace the inner self-content.
He was perhaps not satisfied with his surroundings,
but he was satisfied with himself. At every moment
the feu sacre burst forth in a flame of youthful poetical
eccentricity, Hegelian fanciful speculation, or political
martyrdom ; but in himself there dwelt the sweetest
harmony. His imprecations were directed against
that life, but not against life in general. The Wer-
therian melancholy was only adopted for its
aesthetically beautiful dark cloak. He, if we may
use the word, had lived himself into that melancholy,
because he admired it, but it did not spring from
those deep physical and social conditions from which
the modern melancholy springs. His romantic
lamentations and invectives were the outbursts of a

SYMPTOMS FORTY YEARS AGO 75

too great energy and vital force, not the apathetic
reasonings of to-day's pessimist. He felt Welt-
schmerz ; our pessimist professes to be indifferent.
He pointed out the causes of his woe, for they lay
not in himself. He was like the philosopher who
says, ' That is not the way to cognition,' and not like
the sceptic who says, ' There is no way to cognition.'
He was what Carlyle would call a ' worshipper of
sorrow,' who waged internecine warfare with the
' Time Spirit,' while the other, our pessimist, combats
against the whole spirit, because he feels himself a
child of his time. The misanthrope loves man and
hates men.

" How different is it at present from what the
romantic idealist's life was then ! The admiration
of the poor, threadbare-coated poet or philosopher
has disappeared. What was formerly a source of
pride is now the opposite. The writer himself knows
a German poet of great worth and repute, who is not
treated by society with the honour due to him,
because he is not in the position to offer expensive
hospitality to his friends, while others, acknowledged
to be smaller, are the lions of the day. To-day, young
idealist, your genius will not suffice. You must be a
business man, and make money, and wear a new coat,
and cut your hair short like everyone else, or you
will be laughed at ; for a schwdrmer is out of fashion.
This kills the very idealism which he needs. He finds
all romance ridiculed. Like Hamlet, he is not
understood by his surroundings, and so becomes
indifferent towards the outer world, a despiser of
mankind, as Schopenhauer was. Whither, in his
distress, does he fly with his idealism ? Not to his
home, nor to his family, nor to his maiden, for he has
them not. Into himself ! Here he buries all his
treasures. Here there is no Gr under schwindel, no
insolence of office, no law's delay ; here he who was
wont to float on the high paths of idealism need not
stoop down and pick up the tiny piece of copper
that lies in the dust on the roadside, and that buys
bread. Here he is lord, and he revels in the feeling :
1 everything is bad ; only I am good (for he who can

76 THE GROWTH OF GERMAN CHAUVINISM

see the bad must stand outside it).' This is prob-
ably unknown to themselves, the basis of all their
pessimist reasonings. Pessimism is the highest stage
of Romanticism. Only he is nihilist who has done
away with all the desires of life, who has relinquished
everything, because to him everything must be
nothing. No one is more in need of fulness than he
who feels the universal emptiness. No one is more
in need of the world than he who weeps for it or
inveighs against it. The only true nihilist is the
indifferent and the laugher, the blase and the satirist ;
but the pessimist is the schwdrmer par excellence.
Both Optimism and Pessimism are, so to say, forms
of motion, while Nihilism is stagnation. Optimism
and Pessimism are like plus and minus, while nihilism
is the only zero."

Growthof Since 1878 the commercial spirit has made still
daiisn?" further strides in its predominance throughout the
and ma- whole life of the German people. Practically it
means the desire for wealth, the greed of money, the
realisation of the power of money. The Real and
Interessen Politik, preached by the rulers, writ large
on the national banner of the people, claiming national
expansion in the world to increase the material wealth,
and fostering the envy and hatred of those more for-
tunate in the possession of such a world empire, and
above all, the hatred of England, these have con-
tributed to the materialisation of the German
spirit. I remember how astonished I was, some
sixteen or eighteen years ago, at an answer I received
from a German prince, who had been sent to
study for a time at one of our great English univer-
sities. I asked him what he would choose to be, if
he had the power of effecting his choice directly ;
what was his ideal of future activity ? His answer
was : " I should like to become a Cecil Rhodes."
Cecil Rhodes (long before his death and the founda-
tion of the Rhodes scholarships) or Pierpont Morgan

REAL AND INTERESSEN POLITIK 77

were the ideal types of many a young German who
were supposed to be, and for themselves claimed to
be, actuated by the highest ideals ; who were thought
to be by their political leaders fantastic dreamers and
unpractical Utopians. There are, no doubt, many
young men living among us who have the same
ideals ; but we have never had the reputation abroad
of being idealists and dreamers, and those young
men would hardly understand what an idealist means.
It is precisely among the upper classes who assert
the feudal conditions of life and the prestige which
it bestows upon them, and who also would shrink
from the actual struggle and toil of honest com-
mercial or industrial work (which they more or less
despise), that this desire for gold and the wish to
possess the inordinate means with which their
industrial magnates are blessed — it is among these
that crass materialism shows itself and that the
value of money is most clearly realised. But it is
also in the upper middle classes, among those who
have gathered all the fruits of the best education and
thought, and who, in the Germany of old, held high
the torch of idealism, where the want of money is
most keenly felt and the desire to possess it is one of
the strongest passions. But here again it is not
coupled with the simple and stern determination to
cast off all pretensions and honestly to enter into
commerce or industry as a noble vocation in itself.
They must base their social claims on being "officers
of the reserve," and fly the colours of militarism for
social distinction. Out of this class grows the band
of malcontents and agitators ; and in this class are
to be found the haters of England, who are moved by
violent envy towards the economic prosperity of the
English Empire and its subjects. This lust of gold
on the part of those not favoured by its possession,
is most powerfully put, again in lyric form, in a poem

78 THE GROWTH OF GERMAN CHAUVINISM

by that same exponent of the militaristic spirit of
modern Germany, Liliencron. I need not say that
I in no way wish to reflect on the personality of
this vigorous poet ; nor am I blind to the fact that
to depict the passions and moods of all manner of
people and in all conditions of life is one of the great
tasks of the poet ; and that we should be absurdly
wrong in ascribing to him the vices and faults which
he describes with powerful poetic self-detachment.
Nevertheless, in his poem called "Auf der Kasse " he
does present to us a typical instance of the modern
life about him, from which, according to Groethe's
injunction, the poet seizes the subjects of his art. He
there presents to us the sudden impulse of the poor
man who is drawing his few shillings from the bank.
Upon seeing the masses of gold which the cashiers
are sorting he suddenly imagines how, if only they
were all blind, he would dive into this mass of gold
and carry it off, filling his pockets with it, pursued by
the policemen whom he evades, and how he then
would enjoy the fruits of his theft. The impulse
and the momentary dream pass, and he returns to
the bare reality and the mean conditions of his life.
It is all both natural and human and is expressed
with forcible poetic power. The impulse may have
come to many people all over the world. But the
mood of this poem and of many others by this
same author expresses directly, in the subjective
form of personal experience (as the poems of Heine
directly expressed the romanticism of his age), mental
conditions which are most characteristicof the develop-
ment of modern Germany, and certainly show, not
only this insidious spirit of envy and hatred, but
also the direct material form, the desire for wealth,
so foreign to the spirit of Teutonic life and of the
German people of the past.

Furthermore, however, this sudden growth of

MORAL DEGENERATION 79

wealth has led to a degeneration of the social life Depravi-
of the people on a wider scale, especially in the degenera-
material and sensual depravity prevalent at Berlin tion
and in many of the larger provincial towns. ing frQm

Always remembering what the Germany of old Berlin,
was and keeping before our minds the attractive
picture of its healthy simplicity, its solidity, coupled
with its lofty idealism, if we then turn to the Germany
of to-day as seen in the life of Berlin and the larger
provincial cities, such as Hamburg, Frankfort, and
Munich, the contrast will be most striking. These
centres again affect the life of other towns as patterns
of metropolitan elegance and culture, and, by direct
contagion, the life of all the inhabitants in smaller
towns and in rural districts who pay occasional
visits to these centres of recreation and pleasure, and
carry away with them the germs of degeneration
which there find such favourable pabulum for their
" culture." If we recall the pictures of the life and
the entertainments at court and in the upper circles
at Berlin in the days of the old Emperor William,
the simplicity (which was not, therefore, necessarily
attractive or refined), the absence of display, the
meagreness of the means of entertainment, and the
comparatively small cost which it entailed, with the
present expense and luxury, the change will impress
itself more forcibly. Not only have the ordinary
expenses of daily life grown in huge proportions,
from house-rent onward ; but the change shows itself
in the lavish entertainments, which are not domestic
in character, and partake of a tone of dissipation.
These entertainments do not reflect, as they may
in other countries, the well-founded wealth which
has become habitual and is directly in proportion
to the more luxurious and brilliant conditions of
life in which the wealthy classes pass their
normal existence. They are given at the restau-
7

80 THE GROWTH OF GERMAN CHAUVINISM

rants and hotels, or are sent from there to the
homes. But far more significant of moral de-
cadence are the social disintegrating excesses in the
desire for amusements and display of Berlin dis-
tinctly tending towards the abnormal and morbid.
I boldly venture to maintain that of all the great
capitals of the world, including Paris, London,
Vienna, and New York, Berlin is the most patently
and crassly depraved, and this depravity is admittedly
organised and recognisable. The night-life of Berlin
stands quite by itself among the cities of the world.
Night is not devoted to sleep, but to the seeking of
pleasure in all its forms. It may be said — as has
often been replied to the critics of Paris, the Paris
of old — that it chiefly concerns the visitors and
strangers, and is organised for them. No doubt the
life of depraved amusement in Paris during the
Second Empire, still surviving to some extent in our
day, was chiefly provided for the hosts of foreign
visitors. Yet in Berlin these strangers and visitors
are not foreigners ; but constitute the mass of the
German people from every part of the German
Empire, who thus are contaminated and depraved.
Nor is it true that these amusements are meant to
meet the demands of visitors only ; for the night-
clubs cater chiefly for the residents of Berlin ; and
among the habitues are representatives of old historic
houses, even the princes of the Empire, government
officials and officers, as well as representatives of
great wealth, or those who not having great wealth
have the facilities of making great debts. This life
of dissipation, in its worst and most degenerate
forms, goes on all night. The managers of the
leading hotels assert that, when their work is started
at six o'clock in the morning, about two-thirds of
the keys in the hotel are still hanging on the board
in the office, showing that the inmates of the hotel

DEPRAVITY OF BERLIN 81

have not yet returned. Novels have been published
telling how this poison has filtered through the whole
of the country, even to the distant provinces. I
cannot continue to dwell upon the character of some
of the clubs frequented by men of high rank. I
have said enough, and I only say it to point out the
contrast between the life of recent years and that
of Germany before 1870. Nor, as I have said above,
is it limited to Berlin, as London and Paris are
recognised as the only centres in England and France
where flagrant vice flourishes in a huge city. I
have had it on good authority that some of the
Palais de Danse in certain of the more important
towns of the provinces attract even a large proportion
of the Bourgeoisie. The sums expended and received
in these Palais de Danse are incredibly large. We all
know that such places of amusement, and even worse
ones, are to be found in Paris, and, though not to
the same extent, in London. As many a German
feared, the nation has lost some of the warlike
efficiency possessed by their fathers of 1870, and to
this degeneracy is perhaps to some extent to be
traced the revolting forms of excesses which their
cruelty has taken in Belgium and in France, and
which, in some cases, is only to be explained by a
pathological perversion of sensuality.

In France, on the other hand, it cannot be denied,
that since the days of the Second Empire there
has been a regeneration of the moral fibre of the
French people, especially among the young men of
to-day. The infusion of the athletic spirit and all
that it means morally, as consciously adopted from
England, fostered by the direct efforts of several
individuals, among whom I may single out the
Baron Pierre de Coubertin, the Vicomte de Jansey,
and others, in their Association pour I' Encouragement
des Sports Athletiques, and the seriousness with

82 THE GROWTH OF GERMAN CHAUVINISM

which the youth of France has been beginning to
recognise its duty towards the State, have done much
to prove them far different adversaries from those
whom the Germans met in 1870, and I venture to
predict that this war will have a still more salutary
effect in the moral regeneration of the French people.
Still, there remains in France the great blot of
financial corruption in the political life of the past,
the dominance of the haute finance in every form
of public activity ; and, above all, the evil traditions
of a Press which is admittedly in so many, if not in
most, cases representative of a definite financial
group of interests.

The reform, of all others, which is most needed
in France, as it may be elsewhere, is that by new
laws, corruption in the election of national repre-
sentatives should be made impossible, and the
immunity of the people's representatives from the
disease of financial enterprise and speculation should
be jealously safeguarded and maintained.

As for us here in England, we may also take timely
warning. The tone of certain " sets " in the huge
society which centres in London has of late drawn
dangerously near to degeneracy and decadence.
London is fortunately so large that it can never be
said to be dominated in its social character by any
one group of people or any so-called set. The Court
no doubt exercises, and will always exert, a powerful
influence as a type and example to direct the social
aspirations of the people ; but it cannot be said
that its tone of intercourse and habits of life in any
way strike the dominant keynote to the symphony
or cacophony of the social world, as is to a far greater
extent the case in the society of Vienna or Berlin,
or as was the case in the time of monarchical France.
No doubt, however, it also exercised considerable
influence on the " surface ethics " of the people.

DANGERS IN FRENCH AND ENGLISH LIFE 83

There were and still exist, however, so many varied
groups, based on similarity of rank, wealth, occupa-
tion, or amusements, that no one set could be said
definitely to lead and to prescribe — as the case may
be — the tone or the pace.

This multiplicity of social influence and social
standards has made it quite impossible, with any
approach to truth, to speak of " society " in London
with any idea of accuracy, certainly not in the sense
in which it was applied by our forefathers in the
eighteenth and earlier centuries, or even in the
earlier part of the nineteenth century. Nor could
the term " Society " be used in the sense in which
self-complacently the residents in a small provincial
town or village use it.

On the other hand, owing to the modern system
of publicity, certain cliques have attained to a con-
spicuousness before the world, which no doubt has
led to their setting the tone and establishing a tra-
dition among wider social groups, if not for the
general public. But it must always be remembered
that these sets form a very small minority ; and
that numerous other sets in London and in the
country, more completely representative of true
British traditions of life and morals, command the
respect of a wider public, and far outweigh that
minority in numbers, eminence, and influence. These
latter still represent what is best in English life.

The tone of this minority in London society,
constantly before the public, was decidedly lowering
to public morals and public taste. Their outer life
was luxurious, pleasure-seeking, and even dissolute.
Especially was it opposed to the fundamental tradi-
tion of home-life, which has ever been essentially
private and unconcerned with publicity and display.
Their lives were pre-eminently lived in public. The
restaurant had with them superseded the home ;

84 THE GROWTH OF GERMAN CHAUVINISM

and their amusements and entertainments were thus
enjoyed before the eyes of the multitude. The
traditions of the modern press, with its advertising
publicity, came in to diffuse still further the elements
of luxury and of profligacy and the dissolution of
the traditional home.

As foreign habits of restaurant-life were engrafted,
so also foreign tastes in art were established, which
not only hampered the natural growth in expression
of national character in art, but actually fostered exotic
tastes which exercised deeper influences on life itself.

It is no doubt good to broaden one's taste towards
catholicity and to increase the capacity of appreciat-
ing, not only the life and art of bygone ages, but
also of contemporary peoples remote from ourselves
in every way. To have had presented to us the
characteristic art (and through it the characteristic
life as well) of modern Sicily, Belgium, and even of
China and Japan, through the masterly performances
of Sicilian, Belgian, Chinese, and Japanese plays
enacted by their own people, was an artistic delight
and a step towards an extension of aesthetic and
intellectual sympathy. Not so, however, the position
which was assigned to the Russian ballet.

The Russian ballet and the masterly and exquisite
performances witnessed in London of late years
presented us with superior art of its kind. But it
would be a mistake to assign too prominent and re-
presentative a position to this particular form of
art even in the general national art of Russia. It is
well to appreciate and to enjoy such artistic pro-
duction. But to assign to it a central or dominant
influence on our artistic nature, by submitting con-
tinuously and for a long period to its charm, until
it pervades our whole taste, is a dangerous exaggera-
tion which may have deeper and far-reaching effects
upon national taste and national morals. The bril-

SALUTARY EFFECT OF THE WAR 85

liancy and oriental sensuousness of such displays,
though justified in due proportion in our artistic
experience, cannot be healthy for us when they be-
come predominant, and must, should they take hold
of our moral, destroy the essential elements of our
national character as expressed and confirmed by
art. The Arabian Nights are a classic in the world's
literature. But to make them the ordinary daily
literary pabulum of Western readers and the central
standards of Western taste can only pervert the
moral as well as the artistic side of our national life.
It appears that, with the recent exaggerated pro-
minence given to the Russian ballet, such influences
have already been at work and have permeated into
the life of its devotees, even to the modification of
taste in dress.

These dangers of degeneracy from the example of
social minorities and from exotic interference with
the true and natural expression of our national life,
character, and tastes have been checked by the war.
With all its horrors, miseries, and degradations, it has
certainly, by the self-sacrifice of our manhood, the
devotion and inwardness of effort of our women — in
fact, the temporary moral revival of the whole nation
— brought us back to our elemental principles of
national morals. May it thus pave the way for a
lasting national regeneration in every walk and sphere
of life in the future !

All these menaces in the social life of contemporary
England to which I have referred were dangerous to
the continuance of a healthy national life. In view
of the degeneration observable in Germany within
the last thirty years, we ought to take heed and coun-
teract these evil influences which tend to undermine
our own national health.

CHAPTER IV

THE CONCEPTION OF THE STATE AND OF INTERNATIONAL
RELATIONS

Contra- We have hitherto considered the direct and immediate
between causes, national, social, and moral, which have led to
the cur- this war. But, as I urged from the beginning of this
ceptions" book, there are more remote and less manifest causes
sLthe ri °^ a more general, though more fundamental, nature
of inter- which are to be found in the constitution of the
relations moral and social life, not only of the Germans, but of
and of the Western civilised peoples throughout the world.
moraiUe Though these causes are of such a general and remote
con- character, they are none the less the factors which
nessof have directly contributed to this catastrophic climax
modem m tfie international relations of all civilised peoples.

man. . *■ r

They concern the general ideas and ideals which at
once express and regulate the national and inter-
national conscience of civilised peoples. Though
definitely formulated and effectively fixed, so as to
regulate and determine the political life of the several
nations, they are in reality in direct contradiction to
the true consciousness, political and moral, of the
several peoples upon whom they are imposed. Such
contradiction applies, in the first instance, to the con-
ceptions of the State, and the international relations
between the States.

In spite of the firm foundation and the wide
diffusion of democratic principles throughout the
civilised world ; in spite of Lincoln's epigrammatic

86

THE GERMAN CONCEPTION 87

summary of the object and ultimate aim of govern- Theposi-
ment, as " Government of the people, by the people, thestate
and for the people," in the mind of the Germans and at vari-
of more autocratically governed nations, the State ou^true
is still regarded as an entity apart from and above concep-
the people ; its authority is conceived as being
absolute and autocratic and, in some of its aspects,
opposed to its citizens who are to bow down before
its authority. Even with ourselves, in some aspects
of our political life, especially those that develop
patriotic Chauvinism, this idea of the State some-
times shows itself. In this conception there is a
distinct line drawn between the rulers and the ruled.
Even when the governed revolt against their rulers,
or harbour the spirit of revolt, they thereby affirm
this difference, until they look upon the State and
government as criminals look upon the police, not as
representatives and guardians of the people's laws —
laws made by the people and guardians appointed by
them to watch over these laws — but as the inimical
representative of an outside interest opposed to their
own. In all these cases, in any event, the State is
conceived of as an entity in itself, independent of the
people whose unity — derived from whatever causes,
geographical, ethnological, legislative, social, or moral
— constitutes the essence of the State. This concep-
tion of the State as " a thing in itself," confirmed in
the life and history of early peoples and consciously
and intellectually by the Greek writers on history,
politics, and philosophy, has survived, in spite of all
the huge developments of political thought and
liberty, and of the democratic spirit manifested in
the writings of publicists and philosophers from the
Renaissance onwards and notably in the eighteenth
century and since the French Revolution. In the
writings of many modern historians, especially Ger-
man, accentuated in those of a militaristic turn

idea.

88 STATE AND INTERNATIONAL RELATIONS

of mind, to whom we have to such a great degree
traced the responsibility for this war, the autocratic
and theocratic view of the State survives in a more or
less manifest form. With these later historians and
constitutional historians, however, an intermediate
stage has been developed between the ancient concep-
tion of the absolute unity of the State and the demo-
Xhe cratic principles of government. This intermediate
national conception or compromise is found in the term
" national " (Nazional), or rather " racial " (Rassen-
staat), which, as we have seen, to a great extent
accounts for the chauvinistic spirit dominating the
German world. Whether this modern idea of
Nationality, as the chief justification for the existence
of the State and as an effective ideal in political life,
national and international, is to be traced back to
Napoleon or Mazzini, or to a confluence of many
historical and political currents in the nineteenth
century, the fact remains, that it has been, and is,
the most powerful factor in political life and in
the formation of political theory. Its influence in
modern times can be traced in numerous international
movements and crises. In the Balkans it has been
both modified and intensified by the fusion of racial
with religious differences, and has thus been the cause
of continuous international complications and diffi-
culties, the final solution of which is remote in the
future and threatens the world's peace for some
time to come. The modern German development of
Nationality found full expression since the days of
Bismarck, and its development is not only to be seen
in such historians as Treitschke, who was taken up
by the publicists and the teachers of constitutional
history throughout Germany, but has been, and is,
the current German conception in modern times. I
well remember how it formed the central idea in the
lectures of the late Professor Bluntschli of Heidel-

National-
ism.

RACIAL NATIONALISM 89

berg, who, though a native of Switzerland, still re-
sponded directly to the exactions of Bismarckian
policy. The justification for the German Empire The
was that it directly responded to, and expressed, the J*"^}
racial unity of the German people ; and this racial tion of
unity drew a fixed and marked line, as regards the
interests and the very existence of the State, between
it and other States of different racial origin. Wher-
ever among the inhabitants this racial unity was not
clearly expressed, in fact was made doubtful or weak-
ened, it naturally led to internal antagonism ; and
thus grew up within the people the anti-Semitic
party, while the Poles and Danes and any other
element that could assert itself, or could at all be
recognised in its supposed solidarity, was persecuted
and suppressed. If this suppression was not com-
pletely successful, it naturally led to disquieting
elements of disruption and of party contest. It thus
favoured antagonism, leading through dislike to
hatred without and within.

In any case the unity of the State and the close ties Racial
of affinity and of national affection which give vitality "annot be
to its national life — give a soul to the nation — are claimed
very much endangered when they rest upon such British
ethnological grounds. For when we ask the question, Empire,
" Which one of the civilised states of modern times forEng-
can claim, and truly realise its claim to, racial unity ? " Iand*
the answer must be, " Not one of them." While this
is being written, there are appearing a series of letters
in the Times, grouping round a controversy waged
by eminent men, as to the position which the Anglo-
Saxons held in the formation and development of the
English nation and of the British Empire. Such
discussions appear to me futile and childish, especi-
ally when their result is to have a direct bearing upon
the inner social and political life, and upon the actual
foreign relations of our State. Subdivide as you will

go STATE AND INTERNATIONAL RELATIONS

the subjects of the King of England into the original
and aboriginal predecessors of modern Englishmen,
of palaeolithic and neolithic inhabitants of Great
Britain and Ireland, the Celts and their varied ramifi-
cations, Bretons, Picts and Scots, Saxons, Danes and
Norsemen, Normans and other races ; add to these,
in more clearly historical times, the more peaceful
incursions of other immigrants, who, from their
leadership in thought and in trade and in all forms of
industry, or by highly educated social groups or by
individual men, have left their mark upon English
history — subdivide as much as you will, you cannot
thereby destroy the unity of the British Empire, the
soul of the nation, welded together by its past history,
its political constitution, its spirit of liberty, its
customs and traditions, and its ideals of living. Not
only the ethnological groups of its inhabitants in the
remote past, but these more recent accessions to
British nationality have had the most powerful
influence in giving definite character and in directing
the development of English national life. These
comprise the Jews, who no doubt in the Middle Ages
in the time of Isaac of York and the other " bankers "
of those days, before their expulsion, exercised a
most powerful civilising influence on the develop-
ment of English life. But since their return in the
time of Cromwell, they have produced leading indi-
viduals in every walk of life, culminating in the per-
sonality of Disraeli, who, whether admired or con-
demned by the partisan, certainly left his imprint
on the history and political character of his age as
perhaps no other individual has done since the days
of Pitt. We have also to consider the immigration
into England both from the Low Countries and from
France, of the weavers and skilled artisans, Dutch,
Flemish, or Huguenot, who undoubtedly gave a favour-
able turn to the character of British trade and industry.

THE ENGLISH PEOPLE 91

These immigrants also furnish us with individual men
and families who have duly risen to eminence and who
have added most perceptibly to the formation of our
national character in our own days. It is puerile, as
well as absolutely inept and ineffectual, to endeavour
to apportion the good or the potently effective in our
national life and character among the several ethno-
logical sources from which the truly formative elements
in national history are supposed to be derived. Burke,
Wellington, and Palmerston may or may not have been
of pure Celtic origin, but they were practically of Irish
descent, though they had their full share in the making
of England, as much as did Cromwell, Pitt, Fox, and
Gladstone. Were one to adopt experimental and
observational methods, such as the field-geologist is
capable of applying in rapid observation to the
theoretical study of geology, one would be absolutely
confused and puzzled were one to try to segregate
into the various ethnological strata any given number
of people in any one of our towns — not to speak of
London at all — and even in our country villages,
according to the ethnological types which they are
supposed to represent. The whole structure of such
generalisation in theoretical study, still more in the
practical application of such distinctions to the differ-
ent problems of the social and political life of the
country — nay, the very basis of the existence of the
State as a unity — would at once topple to the ground.

And this is not only true of Great Britain, it is Equally
true of every single nation of Western Europe, per- ]££nded
haps of even Slav Russia. Germany and France are in Ger-
in their ethnological constitution as mixed and Yralcelr
disparate as any nation claiming national unity can any one
well be. There may be more difference of physique European
and character, of habits of life, of emotionality, of states-
intellectual predisposition, of temperament and taste,
constituting what we call personality, between the

92 STATE AND INTERNATIONAL RELATIONS

South Germans of Bavaria and Wiirtemberg and
Baden and the East Prussian, between them again
and the Holsteiner and the Westphalian and those
from the Rhine provinces, than between any one of
these and citizens of Denmark and Poland, Switzer-
land or Holland. And their different dialects, though
all form part of the German language, their pro-
nunciation and intonation of this same language,
are so different that I, though a foreigner, have had
to act as an interpreter between the dwellers of the
chalets in the Bavarian highlands and the Tyrol and
the North German tourists who vainly endeavoured
to make themselves understood.

I do not in any way maintain that the inhabitants
who thus differ from one another should not collec-
tively form a State, as little as I maintain that, be-
cause in language, and perhaps in race, there may
be great affinity between sections of the German
people and the Swiss, or between other sections and
the Flemings and Dutch, they are necessarily to
form one State : that Switzerland, Belgium, and
Holland should therefore be deprived of their inde-
pendence and be incorporated into the German
Empire. It is amusing to note how, when would-be
scientific and philological principles suit the purposes
of German Weltpolitik, they can at once be made
subservient to national greed. In an article which
has recently appeared, the criminal breach of Belgian
neutrality and the prospective annexation of Belgium
by the German Empire is supported on the grounds
of such philology and ethnology.

Does anybody in his senses honestly believe that
such unsound, pretentious, and pedantic efforts of the
ethnologist establish a moral and practical ground
for the claims of any State to absolute power, to
the commands of which every individual citizen, all
classes of the population, all groups and interests of

DEMENTED IMPERIALISM 93

economic and social life, are to bow down in un-
questioning obedience ? Are the rights of the people
dependent upon this flimsy and fantastic structure
of pedantic schoolmasters aspiring to be master-
builders of States ?

And when we turn from the State in itself to the
relations of the several States to one another, how
can any one of these, on the ground of an utterly
false ethnological generalisation, claim ascendancy
over all the others ? What is the conception in the
mind of such thinkers and politicians of the relation
of the State to the whole inhabited globe with its
millions upon millions of human beings, each claim-
ing their own right to live and to think and to act
in freedom ? On these shadowy figments of narrow
and destructive brains they claim the supreme moral
right to subjugate other peoples and nations to the
interests and desires of one small group of people
calling themselves a State, with unrestrained ambi-
tion to bend the whole world to their own desires 1
Why should a relatively small section of land, a
district in Europe marked on the map as Germany,
with its sixty or seventy millions of people among
the untold millions of human beings, become the
absorbing centre of the world's collective life, so
that all the world should minister to its desires and
swear allegiance to its national exactions, to become,
not so much the guiding brain and the sentient
heart, but the absorbing stomach to which all life
is to be subordinated ? It is Imperialism gone mad 1 Nor does

The German may answer that his justification for su£en~f
world-power lies in his Kultur, and that the civilisa- civilisa-
tion represented by the German people has the ^abiisha
comparatively highest claim among civilised nations, claim for
and ought therefore to dominate the world. Quite ^JJ"
apart from the fact that we should absolutely deny absorb
this primacy of German civilisation, which, as we by°force.

94 STATE AND INTERNATIONAL RELATIONS

have seen before, even their own philosophers deny,
how can they diffuse and advance their own Kultur
by the barbarous and degrading methods of war ?
But even if, argumenti causa, we were to admit that
they were thus fitted to lead, then let them lead
onwards and upwards ; but not push and drive with
brutal as well as deceitful and utterly demoralising
force their peaceful neighbours and distant peoples
back into the fold of their own selfishness, to serve
their own interests, increase their wealth and power,
to satisfy the lust of dominance, nay, the vanity of
this sixty or seventy millions of people in that small
portion of the globe. I may be allowed to repeat
what in substance I have already written with refer-
ence to the Jews : '

" If there is anything good in you — you who may,
with more or less doubtful accuracy, be supposed to
be the direct descendants of one of the greatest
races of the past — show it and let the world benefit
by the spirit which moves you and has moved you
in the past ; hold on high the torch of your ancestors
and let it illumine the world for the good of the
world ! But you are most likely to accomplish this,
not by segregating yourselves into separate social
or political groups in the States of which you are
citizens, still less by endeavouring to become a
separate nation with all the pretentions, the actual
or potential antagonisms to other States which such
corporateness implies ; but by being perfectly deve-
loped and high-minded individuals, affectionate and
helpful members of your family, devotedly attached
to its prosperity and its good name, beneficent
dwellers in any community where you may happen
to live, and loyal citizens of the State in which,
whether for many centuries or even for a few years,
you have been active national units, contributing as
such units to the free development of the laws and

1 See the chapter (II, pp. 54-99) on the Mission of the Jews in my
book The Jewish Question and the Mission of the Jews.

JEWISH NATIONAL PRETENSIONS 95

the national life of such a State. Let your poetic
imagination and your pride of descent, and the duty
which you owe to the good fame of your ancestors,
beautify and strengthen your lives, as the works of
art or the beauties of literature in due proportion
add their refining element to your life of leisure.
Sentiment is all, because it groups round the idea,
the ideal essence, of material things. If any natural
evolution of the human kind and any sequence of
historical events (though, in your case, generally
sad) have made you what you are, and what you
are is good, let this good permeate into the life about
you as individual factors in a complex State, and let
all together ultimately lead to the advance of the
human race and the diffusion of happiness through-
out it ! "

Deutsche Kultur if you like, whatever be best in
it ! But not the Kultur of the Prussian Junker, or
bureaucrat, the grasping Alldeutscher pauper who
wants more money, the beer-heavy stump speaker in
a frowsy inn who, indolent in all but his unassuaged
rapacity, fans his sentimental Gemuthlichkeit of old
into hysterical passion, until it at last bursts forth
into a Hymn of Hate ! Such, however, is the con-
tagion of the chauvinistic idea, of the so-called
Nazional-Staat, to which I have before referred, that
the Jews themselves have been affected, and a small
section of them must needs strive for a Jewish
Empire in the conception of the Zionist movement.

The objection may be made, that all that I have The
just said and urged against the vicious spirit of All- ^Z^
deutschland is also directed against all Imperialism, and the
including British Imperialism. But I would except Dqq£
the British Empire, because it has, in pursuing its
own national destiny as a great colonising State, gone
as far as, under the dominant condition of national
and racial ideas of our days, it could go towards the
realisation of our true ideals of politics. It aims in
8

96 STATE AND INTERNATIONAL RELATIONS

every case at establishing freedom and self-govern-
ment for each colony, of giving of the best to each
one of these which in the course of history have
come under its influence and dominion, and, fulfilling
its mission — as long as Free Trade and the " Open
Door " rule its policy — of ignoring the selfish call of
the immediate interests in the Mother Country.

What always remains in welding the numerous
and varied peoples of the British Empire together
is the national sentiment, the feeling of a common
past, of a common origin, of common traditions, and
of a united struggle for the realisation of definite ideas
and ideals in government and social life. Just as the
members and descendants of one family are bound
together, but are thereby in no way excluded from
their vigorous endeavours to be good citizens of their
country and of the world at large, to realise the
tasks in the life set before them, and to contribute
as individuals to the advancement and betterment of
the whole world, so are all the citizens of the British
Empire bound together ; and this war — to the un-
doing of German Chauvinists — has proved the reality
and strength of these bonds more forcibly than ever
before. I repeat : sentiment is a great power and
has its direct practical uses and effectiveness, especi-
ally in larger collective bodies. It is more real and
more effective, and less likely to lead to discord and
the clashing of interests, than the manifestly prac-
tical aims and allurements of colonial preference or
of protective tariffs.
German But why should Germany, after driving like a
iST*^1" wedge its commercial penetration into Asia Minor, or
one of the South American Republics, and naturally
and organically affecting the life of these countries,
until the good that may thus arise will of its own
force survive, — why should force and brutal com-
pulsion destroy the national life of the people in-

NATIONAL TYRANNY 97

habiting these countries, and artificially engraft the
conditions which prevail in Germany so as mechani-
cally to supersede by force (not by persuasion and
evolution) the living civilisation which has grown up
out of the soil and out of the history of Asia Minor or
South America, arising from legitimate traditions and
national sentiments? Above all, finally, why should
the Germans succeed in establishing such colonies,
should these become merely the means to develop
the commerce and wealth, to swell the pockets and
paunches of the German officials and manufacturers
and merchants, all ending in discord and endless war
and bloodshed within and without and over the whole
world ? But this is the real picture which those who
have made, and those who are carrying on, this
criminal war, have drawn for the edification of the
German people. The spirit of German culture is not
the aim in itself, and never was, even if they were
convinced of its absolute superiority over all other
forms of civilisation.

The accumulation of irrefutable evidence from every
quarter of the globe, the definite statements and docu-
ments revealed since the war began, and the more
recent pronouncements of the King of Bavaria con-
cerning Belgium, leave no doubt of the aggressive
plans of annexation and land-grabbing of the domi-
nant leaders of Germany which have matured for
years past. Moreover, it has been shown by their
own official statements that there is no real pressing
need for colonisation and " the place in the sun " to
find employment for the surplus population of Ger-
many. Emigration has decreased, not increased,
within recent years — in fact labour has been con-
tinually imported into Germany from other countries.1

1 See Helfferich in Soziale Kultur und Volkswohlfahrt wdhrend dev
ersten 25 Regierungsjahre Wilhelms II, p. 17 ; also G. L. Beer, in the
Forum, May 191 5, p. 550 ; and J' Accuse (German edition), pp. 41 seq.

98 STATE AND INTERNATIONAL RELATIONS

If German Kultur is the best of all existing forms
of civilisation, it will assert itself by its intrinsic
worth, weight, and power. If the German language
is the best means of conveying human thought, it
will assert itself and supersede all other languages.
But we shall not adopt them at the command of the
German Junker or the German drill-sergeant, or
stand by to see them forced upon weaker States, who
themselves may possess even an older and nobler
civilisation of their own, in order to satisfy the school-
boy vanity of German thinkers of second, third, or
fourth-rate capacity, devoid of all genius, whose only
merit and use, great though it be, consists in tabu-
lating and making handy for the world the achieve-
ments of the great geniuses, most of them not German,
who marked an epoch in the world of thought and
art and invention ; nor shall we head the vociferous
band of intellectual followers, drunken with the A 11-
Deutsche ideals of a Treitschke, a Bernhardi, or a
Nietzsche. Why, to satisfy German national and
racial vanity, should Holland, and Belgium, and
Switzerland — ultimately Denmark, and Norway, and
Sweden as well — be expunged from the political map
of Europe ? Why should Northern France disappear
as the courageous and imaginative leader of modern
thought and taste ? Why should German ambitions
be unchecked as regards South America, Asia Minor,
China, and Japan, and their envious rapacity push on
to grasp the colonies and dependencies of Great
Britain, happy in their political kinship with their
political and social parent land, loyal to its dominion
and leadership, and ready — as the present war has
proved — to fight her battles and to assert her
might !

The British Empire has, up to the present moment,
recognised and acted upon the principle of the Open
Door with regard to its colonies and dependencies,

THE OPEN DOOR 99

and it would be nothing short of a political crime, as
well as economic folly, to abandon this broadest
principle of Free Trade, upon which morally as well
as materially the prosperity of the British Empire
has hitherto rested.

CHAPTER V

THE HUMANITARIAN CONSCIOUSNESS OF THE

MODERN MAN

This principle of the Open Door has formed the very
essence of the policy of the United States, when it had
been drawn into the vortex of international struggle
in the case of China, and was clearly expressed in the
lasting and classic pronouncement of that great and
wise political leader, the late John Hay. It has been,
and will ever remain, the dominant principle of the
government of the United States in its relation to the
expansion of Western civilisation. With the recog-
nition of this principle and the absence of all those
international intrigues and smouldering, or flaming,
antagonisms for which in the past Germany has been
chiefly responsible (though Russia and ourselves and
all other States are not free from guilt in the methods
and work of their Foreign Offices), there is no reason
why the commercial penetration of Asia Minor and all
that the building of the Bagdad Railway meant might
not ultimately have provided Germany with a vast
field for enterprise, for commercial expansion at home,
and for the employment abroad of men with energy
and talent from the Mother Country. Of course they
would in justice be bound to consider and to respect
the well-established claims — established through many
years of fruitful activity — which Great Britain pos-
sessed on the Persian Gulf and in the adjacent centres
bordering it, such as Koweit and Busra. In spite of

IOO

THE OPEN DOOR 101

the Monroe Doctrine, why should not Germany have
continued the commercial penetration of more than
one of the South American republics with large groups
of German settlers forming, de facto, German colonies ;
until, again de facto, by the exercise of free and peace-
ful activity these colonists would have gained actual
control in directing the course of life and in setting
its tone in such countries? Moreover, if their own
Kultur, the civilisation which they collectively repre-
sent, was actually superior to the civilisation which
they found and which had before been dominant, it
would of itself have changed, and ultimately have
superseded, the lower forms ; and we might in due
course have seen the actual transplantation of German
Kultur into distant parts of the globe. History has
repeatedly shown how the superior civilisation will
prevail over the lower forms which it meets in any
given country. Ultimately, however, it is possible,
nay probable, that such an off-shoot from the parent
stock in peaceful colonial development will sever
itself from the parent stem and establish an indepen-
dent existence and growth of its own ; but the civili-
sation remains the same in its original essence and
in the blessings of superiority which the parent nation
has conferred upon its off-shoot. Was not the United
States a direct off-shoot of the English parent stem,
and may not in the future the British colonies more
and more assert their political and social independence
and develop their own local and peculiar characters,
enriching the world by a distinct and new form of
civilisation or an equality of height with the parent
culture, until they may even react upon the old world
and modify it in many forms ? So the civilisation
of the Greek colonies in Magna Grsecia and Sicily
reacted upon the Mother Country ; while, in great
part through these Greek colonies, the Latin civilisa-
tion of the Italic Peninsula was infused with Hellenism.

102 HUMANITARIAN CONSCIOUSNESS OF MAN

Then, through the vast Roman Empire, nearly every
part of the world was modified to the very depths of
social and political existence in the spirit of Hellenism,
as it passed through, and was modified and enlarged
by, Rome. Finally, after the Italian Renaissance,
the submerged classic spirit again arose in a new, yet
pristine, glory ; and the classical spirit of humanity
has ever since dominated and been the most potent
factor in modern European civilisation, both in
Europe itself and in America, and will ultimately
penetrate into the farthest East and West and North
and South of this earth of ours.
Patriot- But here the cloven foot of Chauvinism in a seem-
nationai ingly noble and more justifiable form shows itself
vanity, again ; and now it is in the spirit of " national
patriotism," as it may be called, or of national
vanity as it might more properly be termed. The
members of a living modern State do not wish to lose
one particle of the credit and the glory which comes
from seeing themselves and what they consider their
own Kultur carried away from them by their migrating
sons. Whatever prosperity may come to these
colonising sons, whatever the good which may flow
from them and their efforts into the new home of
their adoption, however marked the step in advance
which through the new community may thus be made
in the civilisation of the whole world through its
infusion into distant parts, that of itself is not enough.
It must immediately and in every case reflect the
glory of those at home ; it must contribute directly
to the prosperity or the fame of the parent hearth,
nay of the parent himself. The unwise father thus
is tempted to play the part of Providence and to
project his will far into the future ; as the " dead
hand " in the will of a self-assertive testator endea-
vours in every detail of life to bind the beneficiaries
of his testament and to direct and to modify the

NATIONAL VANITY 103

will, the reason, and the actions — even the sense of
justice — of those who succeed him.

Consider it as you may, the fact remains, that fun-
damentally this so-called national patriotism, which
insists upon definite and distinct national expansion,
is but the outcome of supreme national vanity, nar-
rowed down by a selfish and petty sphere of vision,
if it be not the grosser form of clear-sighted selfish-
ness, which only aims at its own immediate material
aggrandisement, increase of wealth and comfort, to
be derived, not only from the colony as such, but from
every individual sent out supposedly for his own
good and whose activity it is desired to limit and to
hamper to the sole good of the Mother Country.

As it has been this antiquated and false conception
of the State in its relation to its citizens which is in
great part accountable for the growth and develop-
ment of Chauvinism in Germany, and has led to this
catastrophic war, so it is especially this distorted view
of colonial expansion, mistaking national vanity for
patriotism, which is even more directly responsible
for German aggression throughout the world ; and,
when fanned into the raging heat of passion through
the characteristic vice of envy, has produced the spirit
of hatred against the British Empire and its inhabit-
ants which has thrown the modern German nation
back to the savagery of the primitive Hun.

And what will every right-minded German citizen
say when, without even considering the injustice
and savagery shown to his fellow-men of other
countries, nor the initial injustice of German aggres-
sion in this war, he realises through untold suffering
the misery and financial ruin of his own country, the
torture and suffering ending in the death of millions
of his own kith and kin, and the sadness which will
come to every German home, not one of which will
be free from intense anguish I What will these right-

104 HUMANITARIAN CONSCIOUSNESS OF MAN

minded and clear- thinking Germans say when the
scales have fallen from their eyes and they fully
realise for what imaginary, what trivial and inanely
stupid motives this huge sacrifice of life, wealth,
and happiness — a greater sacrifice than has ever been
made in the world's history — has been made, this
criminal war has been waged !
The Remember, moreover, that the German workman

int®r" had continuously and for many years been gaining
charac- the conviction (and the determination to act upon
Labour **) ^at ^y nature, interest, and morality he was
and of not severed from his fellow-workmen living in other
api ' countries and belonging to other nations, that — so far
from regarding them as his natural enemies — he actually
felt them to be his brothers, his friends in arms.
Within recent times, day by day and year by year,
he became conscious of his power to act in accordance
with these true feelings guiding the labouring man
all over the world. The International Socialistic
Brotherhood was not a mere name without substance
or without power. What this power meant and how
it could effectually be used against the action of his
militarist tyrants became clearly manifest from the
moment that in Russia in 1905 the first attempt was
made on a large scale to organise a general strike.
Though on that occasion the general strike was not
completely successful, still it did produce a consider-
able effect in Russia itself, and was one of the most
important events in modern history. It proved to
the world what might in the future be done by the
united action of the labouring men in any country
who knew their own minds, were clear in their purpose,
and well organised in carrying out their plans.
Moreover, as the years rolled on, the international
aspect of the union of labouring men, leading to con-
certed action in the interests of the whole body, grew
more clearly pronounced and promised more definite

GENERAL STRIKES 105

international action. The so-called sympathetic
strikes spreading from one country to the other grew
in frequency. It thus became clear to a great many
thinkers, and to many of the leaders of the Labour
Party themselves, that the so-called pacifist tenden-
cies and aims of these powerful bodies all over the
world might in the near future effectually prevent
any great European war — in fact any war between
civilised and well-organised modern States. I have
referred above (p. 6) to the opinion held by one
of the greatest living authorities on the labour
question and the international character which strikes
were assuming. These facts were a confirmation of
my own opinion, shared by a leading German states-
man, that in the near future wars between civilised
nations might thus become impossible. There can
be no doubt that the true consciousness of the mass
of the labouring men in Europe — at all events the
most intelligent and most influential amongst them —
was utterly opposed to any great war between
civilised nations and had no feeling of opposition,
animosity, or violent hatred to the population of any
other country on the grounds of national, racial,
or imperial differences. On the contrary, they were
distinctly anti-Chauvinistic and were cultivating
feelings and actions of international comity among all
workers in all civilised States. More and more they
were preparing themselves to check and to counteract
in every way international aggression and internecine
war.

At the same time the action of capital as such and intema-
of the capitalistic class, in spite of the potent and clSrac-
overwhelming interests of those concerned in arma- ter of
ments, was working in the same direction to make ^P1*3, ■
war in future between civilised nations impossible,
almost inconceivable. Mr. Norman Angell and many
other writers have forcib'ly impressed upon the world

106 HUMANITARIAN CONSCIOUSNESS OF MAN

the constraining influence of international capital
and industry in its opposition to war and the disas-
trous effects which war would have not only upon
the nations concerned, but upon neutrals as well.
They have also shown how even the victorious nation
cannot in modern times gain the fruits of its victory.
No doubt in bygone ages the greed of possession
and acquisition were generally the motives which led
to warlike aggression and immediately rewarded the
victor by the increase of his own wealth and of all
other amenities of life. But with the modern appli-
cation of capital and its penetration from one com-
mercial centre into all foreign parts and distant
nations, the sensitiveness and interdependence of
financial, commercial, and industrial bodies in every
nation offered no such inducements to the aggressor
and made it the universal interest of every nation to
prevent a war.

Apparently all the prophecies of these pacifist
writers have been belied by the course of recent
events. But this is only apparent, and not actually
true. The truth is that, perhaps, on the one side
the materialistic interests were too strongly backed
by that section of the economic world directly inter-
ested in armaments ; and that, on the other side, the
contingency to which I have just referred — namely,
that in the race for time the militaristic competitor
literally " stole a march," and that this war was thus
brought about. It may perhaps only have been a
question of a few years that the hoplite runner would
have been completely outdistanced and beaten by the
unarmed, yet fleet and sure-footed, toiler in the fields
and in the factory.

I must here reproduce the exposition of this ques-
tion as published by me twenty-one years ago (The
Jewish Question and the Mission of the Jews, 6th ed.
London and New York, 1894, p. 82 seq.).

INTERNATIONAL CAPITAL AND LABOUR 107

" The present foreign policy of European States
shows a disastrous confusion which marks a transition.
It is the death-struggle of nationalism, and the tran-
sition to a more active and real form of general inter-
national federation. In this death-struggle we have
the swan-song of the past dynastic traditions in
monarchy giving form, and often heat and intensity,
to the contest upheld in certain customs of diplomatic
machinery, with, on the other hand, the birth-struggle
towards the organisation of international life, the
needs of which are at present only felt practically
in the sphere of commerce. This birth-struggle at
present manifests itself chiefly in narrow and undig-
nified jealousy and envy for commercial advantages ;
and this, unfortunately, is growing the supreme ulti-
mate aim of all international emulation. We can
trace nearly all the diplomatic rivalry ultimately to
the interests of commerce and the greed for money.
One often hears it said that Jewish bankers make
and unmake wars. This is not true. Money makes
and unmakes wars ; and if there were not this greed
of money among the contending people the bankers
would not be called upon at all. There are, of course,
further complications favouring the older spirit of
national envy, which is dying, though far from being
dead. Such are the influences of the huge military
organisations, definite wounds unhealed (such as the
feeling of reprisal on the part of France), and, finally,
the last phases of the artificial bolstering up of the
idea of the National-Staat in Germany and Italy.
But the whole of this conception of nationalism, in so
far as it implies an initial hatred and enmity towards
other national bodies, is doomed. A few generations,
perhaps, of disaster and misery accompanying this
death-struggle will see the new era.

" Now, there are several practical factors which
are paving the way indirectly towards the broader
national life of this coming era. They are, strange
to say, the two main opposite forces of the economical
life of the day : Capital and Labour. Each of these,
separately following the inherent impulse of its great
forces, which constantly run counter to one another,

108 HUMANITARIAN CONSCIOUSNESS OF MAN

tends towards the same goal, especially in its pro-
nounced forms. Capital does this in the great inter-
national houses and in the Stock Exchanges ; Labour,
since the first International Convention of 1867, in its
great labour organisations. The highly developed
system of modern banking business and of the Stock
Exchange, favoured by the rapid and easy means of
intercommunication without regard to distance, has
made all countries, however far apart, sensitive to
the fate which befalls each ; and this tends more
and more to make Capital an international unit,
which can be, and is being, used, whatever its origin,
in all the different quarters where there seems a
promising demand for it.1

" On the other hand, the growth of organisation
among the representatives of labour is fast stepping
beyond the narrow limits of national boundaries,
and the common interests tend to increase the direct-
ness of this wider institution. I am not adducing
these facts in order to suggest any solution of the
numerous problems which they involve, nor to direct
the attention to the interesting historical, economical,
and political questions to which they may give rise ;
but simply to draw attention to the one fact — that
in this respect both capital and labour are effectively
paving the way, perhaps unknown to the extreme
representatives of either interest, towards the increase
of a strong and active cosmopolitan spirit of humani-
tarianism. And this spirit, at least as an ideal, is
certainly dominant in the minds of the best and wisest
people of our generation."

Such is the united tendency and action of the two
main factors in modern economic life which are

1 But let no man from the camp of the capitalist (as some anti-
Semitic German politicians have endeavoured to do) charge the Jews
with being the instigators to Socialism, nor let a Socialist urge his
fellow-partisans to an anti-Jewish' riot ; for the leading spirits of both
these antagonistic forces were Jews : the bankers, such as the Roths-
childs ; and the economists, such as Lassalle and Karl Marx. The
capitalists cannot curse the Jews, and the Socialists cannot dynamite
the Jews without disowning their very leaders.

growing
con-

DECLINE OF NATIONAL ANTAGONISM 109

supposed to be, and usually are, directly opposed as
inimical forces in the minds of the extreme repre-
sentatives of each factor — namely, capital and labour.
But in this great issue, following out their separate
and, at times, divergent courses and interests, they
definitely tend to unite in one common goal of inter-
national federation and of opposition to war.

More important still, however, than these two The
forces in economic modern life has been the growing
consciousness of the whole population of the world scious-

. ncss of

as represented by all people of right feelings and of human
normal and clear thought. The sense of a common ^'^
humanity, moved by the same feelings, aspirations,
and ideals and with essentially the same goals and
interests to work for, has been growing in extent and
in intensity throughout the whole world, irrespective
of local, racial, or national differences. Without any
Utopian pretensions, this fundamental conviction is so
strong and real among even the least thoughtful,
that, unless they are blinded by momentary passions
and relapses into bygone savagery, it is the leading
attitude of mind in which all people consider their
fellow-beings in every part of the world. More-
over the actual facilities of intercommunication and
of travel have grown to such an extent in every
civilised country, for even the larger mass of the
people, that they have established affinities and direct
relations, numerous actual points de rattachement,
with the dwellers beyond the boundaries of their own
country or nationality, and these bonds of affinity
and of moral or material contact have become so real
that they actually count for more than mere propin-
quity or even consanguinity within the one country
and nation where no such affinity or contact exists.
Passionate antagonism and hatred may be more
intense between two neighbouring villages, between
twofamilies, and sometimes even between themembers

no HUMANITARIAN CONSCIOUSNESS OF MAN

of one family than between the inhabitants of distant
countries. I should like to anticipate here what
will be dealt with farther on, and to add that such
individuals and villages would at once enforce their
enmity by violence were it not for the power of the law
backed by the police. Of course this feeling of human
solidarity exists especially among those who have
attained a higher degree of moral and intellectual
development through the channels of higher educa-
tion in literature, science, or art, and it exists still
more between those who in their habits and their
tastes are guided by the same leading principles,
and have assimilated into their very moral system
the same rules and preferences of conduct in every
detail of living. It is here that the formal side of
modern national life is antiquated, in fact directly
at variance with the inner substance of the life itself
as it exists in the consciousness of modern people.1

1 Since the above was written I find that the author of J' Accuse
(p. 316, German edition) has expressed the same idea, even including
the terms " perpendicular and horizontal division of humanity."
But such agreement ought not to astonish, considering that it is the
conception of truth which we chose and that not only two people but
all right-minded people ought to agree.

CHAPTER VI

PATRIOTISM AND COSMOPOLITANISM THE PERPEN-
DICULAR AND HORIZONTAL DIVISIONS OF HUMAN
SOCIETY

To put it into a crude geographical formula : the
subdivisions in the grouping of people have hitherto
been on the perpendicular principle ; to correspond
to what actually exists, they ought to be, and cer-
tainly will in the future be, on the horizontal prin-
ciple. Human beings can no longer be subdivided by
lines cutting into the earth and delimiting the fron-
tiers of nations, still less by imaginary and inaccurate
lines of established or hypothetical racial origin. The
Modern communications have, as a matter of fact, ^fcuiar"
erased these lines, and military frontiers can only Division,
artificially restore them to importance for a short
time . Even the sea no longer separates . As a matter
of fact, the sea as a means of intercommunication
and of commercial transportation binds together more
than it divides. It is often cheaper to send goods to
distant countries thousands of miles by sea than
scores of miles by rail in the same country. Nor can
human hearts and human minds, human tastes and
habits of living, be united or kept asunder by a geo-
graphical line.

On the other hand, the horizontal line, which The Hori-
marks the moral and intellectual phases regulating division,
the lives of human beings all over the world, does
really provide us with the principle of grouping

H2 PATRIOTISM AND COSMOPOLITANISM

corresponding to actuality. To put it grossly : an

Englishman of the criminal classes has as little in

common with an honourable, noble, and high-minded

Englishman, as a German, Frenchman, or Italian of

the same low standards has with that of the higher

representatives of those nations. On the other

hand, the criminals in each country can readily form

a brotherhood with harmonious aims of life and

habits, as the high-minded gentlemen of each nation

will at once find a common ground for living, for

free, profitable, and pleasant intercourse, and, above

all, for the higher aspirations of life and living among

those of the same type in other countries. These

are extreme cases ; but the principle applies to all

the finer shadings in the scale of population, of the

living, and thinking, and feeling of the nations all

over the world.

if true of It is thus in direct contradiction to the actual

drab V consciousness of the peoples of Europe and America

fortiori to feel enmity towards those in other countries with

states, whom, on the contrary, there exist the strongest links

Antagon- Gf mutual regard and of brotherhood, and certainly

tween so-called national differences cannot justify an

actuaiiare antag°nism which goes to the length of bloodthirsty

not based attempts to destroy their very lives.

thegeo- ^ tn*s *s true °f tne individual men and women

graphical composing the several States and nations, it also

t£ai°con- applies to the collective unity of population in the

stitution State. In spite of the German conception of the

so-called Nazional-Staat, of the difference in origin

and race upon which the separateness of the several

States is to be based, the States thus belie their very

principles of union if they base antagonism which

leads to war upon ethnological grounds. For, as

Germany is now constituted, the inhabitants of

Holstein, shoulder to shoulder with Slav Prussians,

might have to fight the Dutchmen and the Saxon

NEITHER ETHNOLOGICAL NOR GEOGRAPHICAL 113

Englishmen with whom they claim a common racial
origin — an origin which they might also claim with
the Flemings and the inhabitants of Northern France.
Perhaps even many Lombards in Northern Italy
might thus have to meet in battle their racial
brothers from Germany, who have joined the Prussian
Slav.

Nor can these antagonisms be based upon geo-
graphical grounds, and the political boundaries thus
marked, for then Canada and Australasia could on
these grounds not make common cause with Great
Britain and Ireland. Nor even in the present con-
dition of military powers can the coalition of States
as units be based upon identity or similarity in the
essential conception of what a State is and what its
aims are. For the alliances and ententes belie any
such principle of selection in their formation. The
alliance between Germany, the Nazional-Staat, and
the German section of the Hapsburg Empire would
be perfectly intelligible and logical. But when we
come to the Magyar and Slav and Rumanian con-
stituents of that Empire, the logical ground for such
an alliance entirely vanishes, and may even in itself
constitute antagonism rather than unity or harmony
of national aspirations. On the other hand, when
we consider the essential nature of the State and of
government and find the Republic of France, with
its vigorous aspirations towards political progress
and reform, allied with the Russian autocracy,
hitherto of all European States most clearly identified
with political reaction ; when we realise that but a
short time ago the Republic of France manifested
a most acute phase of political antagonism to Eng-
land ; when we consider the natural antagonism
between Western Liberalism and Eastern Autocracy,
and the affinity of principles and aspirations between
the German democratic section and those of France

ii4 PATRIOTISM AND COSMOPOLITANISM

and England, — we meet with a confusion so complex
and dense that, at least, one fact rises clearly before
our mind : namely, that in the political grouping of
the several States there is the same paradoxical dis-
crepancy between the professed political conscience,
the essence of political life, and the direct resultant
activities of each State in realising its would-be pro-
fessions of national existence and of national aspira-
tions.1 We actually do not know where we are and
on what principle our national alliances are based :
and still less why we should fight each other, except-
ing that the so-called State — or rather a section of
its rulers — has commanded us to do so.

The manifest net result of these convincing and
constraining political conclusions, both as regards
the position of individual citizens and of the State
as a whole, is that our fundamental conception of
what a State is and ought to be is wrong, and that
we must bring it into harmony with the clear and
well-founded conception of modern man as in his
sane moments and with the courage of his convictions
he must formulate it.

1 Since the above was written Italy has left the Triple Alliance and
has joined the Entente Powers, while Bulgaria has actually joined
with Turkey and the Central Powers to fight the Serbians and the
Russians.

CHAPTER VII

RECONSIDERATION OF THE TRUE MODERN MEANING
OF STATE AND OF PATRIOTISM

It thus becomes quite evident that all our ideas con-
cerning the State, and our consequent duties to the
State, must be reconsidered in the light of the
entirety of our modern life and our moral and social
consciousness. This consideration of our duties
raises the whole question of patriotism, no doubt one
of the cardinal virtues of civilised man. No term
has been used to stimulate man to higher and nobler
deeds, and at the same time been abused to cover,
under the specious garb of enthusiasm and of unsel-
fishness, the narrow and even unprincipled passions
of designing self-seekers. The term " patriot " readily
recalls to mind the words of Dr. Johnson : " the last
resort of a scoundrel." 1

Though we may feel that when nations are at war Patriot-
the time is not suited to a critical consideration of^s™
patriotic duties, we do feel that in more normal man's
times, and when we are able dispassionately to ex- u ies'
amine political ethics and our own attitude with

1 In an excellent article on Patriotism by Dr. Inge, Dean of St.
Paul's {Quarterly Review, July 1915), with which I am in hearty
agreement, the writer quotes some moralists " who have condemned
patriotism " as pure egoism magnified and disguised. " Patriotism,"
says Ruskin, " is an absurd prejudice founded on an extended selfish-
ness." Mr. Grant Allen calls it a vulgar vice — the national or col-
lective form of the monopolist instinct. Mr. Havelock Ellis allows
it to be " a virtue — among barbarians." For Herbert Spencer it is
" reflex egoism — extended selfishness."

"5

n6 MEANING OF STATE AND PATRIOTISM

regard to patriotism and our obligation to the State,
it is our bounden duty seriously to reconsider these
fundamental conceptions and to modify public
opinion in accordance with our feeling for right and
wrong as produced by the development of modern
civilised life.

I would premise two general principles, which
ought really to be axiomatic, in dealing with our
political duties : (i) Our first duty to the State is,
individually as citizens, to keep it up to the essential
purposes of its existence. As the State is based
upon community of past history, of present laws
and customs, political and social, and of future aspira-
tions, political, social, ethical, and cultural, we must
contribute our share individually to keep these
essential aims before the Government, as the " soul "
of the nation or State. We must take heed that
they are not submerged into lifeless formalism by
the established powers of the State, or that the
State does not become actually subversive of its
moral principles, its national soul. (2) That each
group of human duties must always be kept in
harmony with the higher and more fundamental —
because universal — duties. Our patriotism need
never clash with our duties to humanity and re-
ligion, provided we keep the State up to its essential
purpose and ideals.
Origin of When once man has risen above the animal stage
and^o- *n whicn he is entirely guided by unconscious in-
Hticai stinct, by the need for self-preservation, which is
extended, through the course of his instincts for
propagation, to the support and advance of his off-
spring, until the family is evolved as a distinct
social entity, and through the family, the clan, the
tribe, the community, and the nation ; when once
he has risen above this purely selfish instinct to the
establishment of social laws, in which the interests

ORIGIN OF SOCIAL ETHICS 117

of the individual are co-ordinated and the common
interests of wider and even less tangible and mani-
fest groups of individuals assert themselves, and
lead to the establishment of social and moral laws,
which all tend to check the powerful and unimpeded
course of selfishness, — then begins the higher phase
of civilisation. This is marked, above all, not only
by the recognition of ethical codes, in which reason-
able altruism supersedes unreasoning egoism, but
such moral codes transfuse the consciousness of men
through the earliest phases of their infantile educa-
tion, through every stage of their growth and life
down to old age, until the civilised being develops,
as an essential feature of his whole moral nature, the
recognition of such an ethical code, and this con-
verts the pure animal into what Aristotle called the
social animal (£&W ttoXltikov). In this scale of
rising progress in the civilisation of man the reality
and the effectiveness of the laws governing corporate,
as opposed to individual, existence is a test of advance
from the lower to the higher. George Eliot was thus
right in convincingly reminding us of the fact that —

" An individual man, to be harmoniously great,
must belong to a nation of this order, if not in actual
existence yet existing in the past, in memory, as a
departed, invisible, beloved ideal, once a reality,
and perhaps to be restored. A common humanity
is not yet enough to feed the rich blood of various
activity which makes a complete man. The time is
not come for cosmopolitanism to be highly virtuous,
any more than for communism to suffice for social
energy. I am not bound to feel for a Chinaman as
I feel for my fellow-countryman : I am bound not
to demoralise him with opium, not to compel him to
my will by destroying or plundering the fruits of
his labour on the alleged ground that he is not
cosmopolitan enough, and not to insult him for his
want of my tailoring and religion when he appears

118 MEANING OF STATE AND PATRIOTISM

as a peaceable visitor on the London pavement. It
is admirable in a Briton with a good purpose to
learn Chinese, but it would not be a proof of fine
intellect in him to taste Chinese poetry in the original
more than he tastes the poetry of his own tongue.
Affection, intelligence, duty, radiate from a centre,
and nature has decided that for us English folk that
centre can be neither China nor Peru. Most of us
feel this unreflectingly ; for the affectation of under-
valuing everything native, and being too fine for one's
own country, belongs only to a few minds of no
dangerous leverage. What is wanting is, that we
should recognise a corresponding attachment to
nationality as legitimate in every other people, and
understand that its absence is a privation of the
greatest good."

The There can be no doubt that by itself the human

of^aL*1* being who can subordinate his own immediate and

truism, individual interests and desires to wider common

aims of a larger human group is in so far a nobler

Ethical human being, and approaches more closely the ideal

an<* , towards which man strives, than one devoid of such
rational . . ,

founda- power. But we must never forget that this wider
sucifsub- anc* corPorate body which thus claims obedience and
mission submission and self-effacement must rest upon
efface! " rational and ethical principles for the justification of
ment. its constraining laws and enactments. It cannot be
virtuous to subordinate will, reason, and interest to
an immoral or criminal organisation. And in view
of the fact that in the course of human history not
Laws and only the material conditions, but also the very
customs, spiritual consciousness of those constituting a cor-
porate body, have changed, and have developed, it
is necessary and urgently desirable that we should
periodically consider, examine, and test the relation-
ship which these laws and enactments hold to the
fundamental principles of reason and of morality out
of which they grew, and for the realisation of which

CHANGE OF LAWS AND CUSTOMS 119

they exist. For it is a truth equally manifest in the Their
history of things human, that laws and customs (j^ge
have a tendency to become stereotyped and forma- decline,
lised, even to such a degree that the very spirit is for con.
pressed out of them, until only the dead form re- stant
mains and blocks the way to the realisation of the and
spirit. Their action is then turned to the Veryreform'
opposite, from the healthy primary source out of
which they flowed ; and, instead of tending towards
altruism and the guarding of collective rights for
the individual constituents of the whole body, they
serve pure egoism, in ministering only to the interests
of a group, a clan, or a class, or even an individual.
We may thus lay it down as a law, which almost
sounds like a platitude, but is far from being recog-
nised in the working of actual life : that when cor-
porate bodies, and the laws which support them, do
not fulfil the definite ends for which they are incor-
porated, and which their laws are to effect, their
influence becomes harmful and lowering instead of
serving some higher purpose.

CHAPTER VIII

CORPORATENESS — THE ABUSE OF CORPORATE AND
INDIVIDUAL LOYALTY

Corporateness is only good when it embodies an
ideal admitted and confirmed by reason and morality :
and the test of its right of existence and of our
allegiance to its enactments is its conformity to the
spiritual ends and ideals of its existence.
Dangers Moreover — and this is the most usual form of a
essential baneful influence inherent in corporate bodies in
develop- their effect upon general life — the collective forms of
wrooratesuck organised corporate existence will be exerted
bodies, and make themselves felt in directions and in regions
for which the activity and purpose of such bodies
were in noway destined, in fact in spheres and objects
different from, and often diametrically opposed to,
their original purpose : so that the effect and the
influence of the extended or perverted corporate
activity become distinctly retarding and even des-
tructive of effective social and moral ends.
Perver- The actual channel of this nefarious activity of the
th°n"df corporate spirit — all the more dangerous and sub-
of versive because it is not manifest and is hidden from

disdpune t^ie yiew °f those who believe its course to be in the
and right direction — marks a general virtue, in itself of

dfZrps. tne highest order, called loyalty, discipline, or esprit
de corps. Loyalty to a body whose interests and
aims are unsocial and bad ; discipline which sub-
ordinates the will as well as the reason and the

PERVERSION OF LOYALTY 121

moral sense to the advancement of a body or an
institution which may clash with reason and morality
in any given case ; the esprit de corps which, through
thick and thin, bids and forces the members of the
corps to act only in the interest of the body or the
individual members of that body, overriding and
wronging the claims of other bodies and the rights
of other individuals, — these all become harmful and
may end in criminality. Of course, in such mis-
guided action loyalty always remains as a virtue
in itself, which will satisfy the conscience of those
thus misguided, and will blind them to the unsocial
and disastrous results of the definite allegiance which
they show to a mistaken selfish or even criminal
interference with wider duties and higher ultimate
aims, to which all actions whether corporate or in-
dividual ought to be subordinated. I venture toThein-
believe that if we seriously consider the ordinary ^^abIe
problems that meet us in our daily work and inter- done by
course with our fellow-men, we may be astonished, version?"
and shall be shocked, to find how much actual harm,
in every conceivable direction and manifestation of
our life, is done by the misapplication of this cor-
porate sense, blinding us to the consequence of our
action and insinuating itself into the approval of
our conscience under the garb of the one great virtue
of loyalty. In the appointment to an office, humble
or exalted, from that of an ordinary servant to a
great public official, the just claims of the aspirant
or applicant, based upon the suitability to perform
the tasks of such an office, are wholly ignored or
seriously affected by the fact that other competitors
directly or indirectly appeal to the corporate spirit
on other grounds. They may have belonged to the
same religious sect, come from the same district,
town, or village, have attended the same school or
university — in short, have had some local or social

122 CORPORATENESS

association with the person or persons who have
the right of disposal or election — with the result that
this would-be sense of loyalty may be decisive in
turning the scales in favour of the less suitable can-
didate and in counteracting the serious and just
efforts, the long preparation and suitability of the
absolutely best claimant, ultimately ruining or em-
bittering his life.
Dangers I must at once, in this connection, anticipate and
of ex- answer a possible objection and admit the claims of

aggerat- " J ,

ing evil " corporate " association and knowledge to be con-
corpSate sidered where a well-balanced choice is to be made,
loyalty, namely, in admitting that, ceteris paribus, the per-
sonal knowledge and confidence which may come
from such corporate association, and may be wanting
in the case of those with whom it does not exist, is
clearly and justly in favour of a candidate, where all
other claims are truly equal. We need not go so
far into the regions of travestied impartiality as the
would-be just man who would disfavour and ignore
the claims of anybody because they were closely
related to him by blood or otherwise, however well
fitted for the position or the favour he might be.
The extreme and perverted moral rigorism of Kant
and its harmful effects were thus held up to ridicule
by Schiller in one of his epigrams :

Gerne dien ich den Freunden, dock thu' ich es leider mit Neigung,
Und so wurmt es mich oft, dass ich nicht tugendhaft bin.

and the answer :

Da ist kein anderer Rath, Du musst suchen, sie zu verachten,
Und mit Abscheu alsdann thun wie die Pflicht dir gebeut.

Gladly serve I my friends, alas, though, I do it with pleasure.
And thus often I fear that I not virtuous am.
There is no other course, you must learn to despise your friends,
And with dislike you must do what stern duty demands.

PARTISAN LOYALTY 123

What I mean, however, is, that constant and
widespread injustice and definite harm to the fulfil-
ment of the world's needs in every aspect of human
life result from the misapplication of this sense of
corporate loyalty into directions with which the
corporate existence, the aim and spirit of the body
to which one thus shows this virtue, have had nothing
whatever to do.

One of the commonest forms which this insidious " Sec-
virtue takes, with the most disastrous results, is *a"an
sectarian and party loyalties. You will constantly party
hear people say : "I was born and bred in such a oya y*
faith and I must stick to it. It would be disloyal
and treasonable — I should feel something of a traitor
— were I to relinquish the sect and step out of the
religious community in which I was born — even if
I no longer believe in its dogmas and articles of
faith." So also : "I was born and bred a Tory,
or an old Whig, or a Conservative, or a Liberal, and
I mean to die one. I should be a traitor were I to
change parties." Now, it is just in these two domains
of life that, by being loyal to a sect or party, we
are disloyal to our highest function and duty as in-
telligent and moral social beings, that we are betray-
ing the supreme trust of humanity and of the divinity
in man — his obligations to truth and justice. To
lead people to believe that we are of a faith we have
discarded, that we approve of political principles or
definite political enactments which we do not deem
to be conducive to the good of national life and the
improvement of society — are acts of treason, not of
loyalty. It is obstructing duty and truth, besides
retarding all progress and stultifying, or at least
delaying, the advancement of the human race and
human life.

The more you consider the effects of this mis-
applied corporate spirit in every conceivable aspect

124 CORPORATENESS

Further of life, the more will you find that you have come
ofSim-°eS to tne r0°t °f one °f the greatest social evils. Con-
moral sider the actual life of any community, and the
interests and social claims of the inhabitants in
each, with a view to realising how the normal, reason-
able, and just conditions of social life, even the
business and working side of it, are interfered with,
misdirected, and distorted by influences and con-
siderations which have nothing whatever to do with
the actual course and development of that life itself.
It will then be seen how they retard, not only the
harmony and higher development of social existence,
but how they impede the work and business of the
community. All this mischief may spring from a
mistaken sense ultimately arising out of the virtue
of loyalty. Moreover, this influence of subconscious
loyalty may be associated with the highest forms of
organisation in spiritual life, such as religion, political
convictions, social traditions — all good in themselves,
but misdirecting the functions for which originally
and essentially they were called into being. The
marriage of two people, drawn to each other by true
affection and harmony of aspirations and tastes, may
be made impossible, because they happen to belong
to different sects in formal religion, though their
religious beliefs might inwardly be the same. Indi-
viduals and families and those naturally destined to be
friends may be kept asunder because of these reasons ;
social conditions stereotyped and formalised, until
they have lost all the spirit out of which they grew
in the life of the past, may act in the same way.
Party politics, even intensified in their antagonisms
by would-be religious or social tradition, directly
interfere with the free flow of social life, create
antagonisms, and even prevent co-operation for an
end which both parties deem just and advisable, to
the detriment of the common life about them. Even

EVIL EFFECTS OF "LOYALTY" 125

in a great war, and with the imminent danger to a
whole nation of its very existence, petty partisanship
in various forms may intrude its disintegrating influ-
ence and weaken the strength of united effort to save
the country. Fortunately for us, up to the present,
party antagonism has to a great extent been kept
under and in abeyance, but we can see it lifting its
head and ready to spring at any moment. And the
worst of it is, that he who manifests loyalty and
esprit de corps in one of these narrow corporate
bodies is pleased with himself for doing so and is
praised by others for his loyalty. It is not only
the coarsened and hardened '• jobbing " politician
who lives and lets live by " graft," who considers it
right, and is called trustworthy and loyal by his
henchmen, because he will override all the claims of
municipal justice and good government, the interests
of his fellow-townsmen, and the dictates of purity
and honesty to which the conscience of the com-
munity has subscribed, in order to further the party
ends and the material interests of his fellow-conspira-
tors. In a lesser and more refined degree you will
meet with this spirit everywhere, and in the definite
cases that will come to your notice day by day.
Justice and reason and morality are trampled under-
foot because of this distorted ideal of loyalty.

The way to remedy this widespread evil, striking Continu-
at the very roots of justice, of social good feeling, of °^s^st"
happiness and prosperity for individuals, communi- corporate
ties and nations, is, in the first place, carefully to£°-or!'
test, whether the corporate bodies are fulfilling thedination
ideal functions for which they were instituted ; and, with7***7
in the second place, to guard against the misappli- other
cation of the purpose, methods and aims of one such ° 1CS'
body encroaching upon the sphere of another with
which it has nothing to do, and in which its action
thus becomes detrimental. Above all, we must so

126 CORPORATENESS

co-ordinate the different spheres of duty and loyalty,
that the wider and higher, the ultimate and univer-
sally accepted aims and ideals, are not sacrificed to
the narrower and lower interests, however urgent
the claim of the more proximate duty may be upon
us. What is most needed in the well-regulated life
of individuals, as well as in larger social bodies, is
co-ordination, in which the several duties are har-
monised and regulated in due proportion, so that the
rational and moral scale is clearly established, which
avoids all artificial antagonism and unreasonable
clashing, and thus conforms to the harmonised de-
velopment of life. All will then tend to the final
realisation of the highest ideals which humanity can
establish in each period of its growth and development.
It will then be found that each individual call of
duty, including that of loyalty to the collective body
with which we are associated, fits into the wider and
harmonious ethical whole, and that the fulfilment
of the one duty need not clash with that of the other,
provided always that we can maintain that sense of
proportion in which the higher and wider comprises
the narrower and lower manifestations, and receives
its real moral justification from the fact that the
several constituent parts all tend to the advancement
of the great whole.
The Here too — and above all here — the subdivision of

zontai" bodies and institutions must be horizontal and not
t° super- perpendicular. They must not be due to the thought-
" Per- less, unreasonable and unjust accidents of locality,
pendicu- 0f contiguity, even of supposed consanguinity, — our
principle associates must be chosen, not because they happen
OTdina-CO" to dwell m tne same street, have been thrust into the
tionof same occupation in making their living, or because
their fathers or grandfathers happened to have be-
longed to one or the other association ; but because
of the similarity of social character and tastes, be-

CO-ORDINATION OF CORPORATE DUTIES 127

cause of the moral and intellectual affinity in thought,
in habits and in ultimate ideals. On the other
hand, when we are called upon to act together for a
definite purpose in business or for public and political
purposes, local as well as national, or a definite task
that requires the concentrated effort directed by-
expert knowledge, we must concentrate our efforts
upon the task itself, and not be distracted by the
social affinities which guide us naturally and rightly
into the groupings regulating our social life.

I have just said that even the considerations of Claims of
consanguinity are not to act out of place and out of SSSS'
proportion in the general scale of our duties. And
this may help me to make clearer in a partial, though
general, outline the practical working of such a scale
of collective duties, the need for which constantly
thrusts itself forward in actual life. There can be
no doubt that we all have duties to our immediate
family. We must guard its integrity, add to its
prosperity, maintain its good fame, support those
members who require our help, and further their
interests to the best of our ability in every direction.
This is a paramount duty from which no right-minded
man or woman — however unprejudiced and advanced
in their habits of thought and in their critical insight
into the very foundations of all laws governing the
world — can escape. But there is no reason why
obedience to this fundamental commandment of
civilised life should clash with our wider duties
towards the community in which we live and towards
the nation of which we are citizens. Above all,
there is no reason why it should clash with those
wider and general duties to Truth, Charity, Honesty,
Self-respect, and the higher realisation of the har-
monious life of humanity fitting into our widest
conception of a still wider cosmical harmony. On
the contrary, I venture to say that, in the humble
10

128 CORPORATENESS

and old-fashioned sense of the word, a good son and
a good daughter are most likely to be most efficient
workers in the locality in which they may live ;
that they make the best citizens for the nation or the
Empire, and, in their several walks of life — whether
concerned in manual, intellectual, or artistic work —
they will be the more efficient from thus being good sons
and daughters. On the other hand, I maintain with
equal confidence, that those who raise this one and
only and restricted form of corporate duty towards the
family to a fetish, draw high and dense and imper-
meable barriers round their affections, sympathies
and obligations, thereby stunt the growth of their
moral and social powers. They block out from their
view and hearing all the sights and calls upon their
activity and sympathies in the wider regions of
communal existence, and the higher and ultimate
ideals of human life. They not only cripple their
manhood and womanhood and impede the growth
and development of their true nature as human
social beings, but, by this very restriction and
compression of their sympathies and their power of
altruistic affection, they will actually not be such
good sons and daughters, such affectionate and un-
selfish members of a family, which they would have
been had they co-ordinated this one group of duties
in their proper place and in their proper proportion
to the scale of duties, rising to the highest religious
phase of man's conception of human society and the
world at large.1
Sym- As the Chauvinist is inferior to the patriot because

andai. ne nas limited the range of his altruistic imagination
truism and his habits of unselfish activity, and will be,
stances, within the State itself the more violent partisan, and
but within the party the more intense self-seeker, so the

people whose interests and sympathies are entirely

1 See in Appendix passage from Jewish Question.

ALTRUISM AND EGOISM 129

limited to the advancement of their own family will
be more selfish, when the clash comes between their
own desires and those of the other members of their
own family. And this is so, because the power of
affection and of altruistic devotion must be practised
and strengthened in every direction in order to
increase their vitality and vigour ; while, the more
they are limited and contracted, the less do they
become efficacious when tested in any given instance.
Those who believe and maintain that the best
hater is the best lover ; that those love best who con-
centrate their affection upon one being or one friend
and shut themselves out from the rest of the world ;
that those who diffuse their feelings and passions
among a wider range of friends and objects and aims
are supposed thereby to weaken the concentrated
energy of their affection and devotion when turned
upon any one definite recipient of their love, are
really misled by a false analogy. Consciously or un-
consciously they are led to believe that affection,
sympathy, enthusiasm and altruism exist in the
human breast in a certain quantity, like a substance,
solid or fluid, of which each individual can expend
a certain amount and no more. The larger the field
over which you expand and spread it, the thinner the
layer in each definite point of the field covered. Thus
he who loves many, they believe, can love no one as
much as he who loves only one. But the analogy
fails, because it is not a substance but a function
and power which underlies our affections and our
sympathies, and even our passions ; and powers
grow with use, as they dwindle and atrophise with
the restriction of such use. There may be extreme
limits to either ; but the power of affection and of
sympathy in the heart is like the strength of the
muscles which increase as we develop them. And it
is thus that the good son will be a better member

130

C0RP0RATENESS

Co-or-
dination
of pa-
triotism
and cos-
mopoli-
tanism.

of his family through extending his interests and
his affections far beyond the limits of his own hearth.
If charity begins at home, it must not remain at home.
Thus, without clashing, we can proceed upwards and
beyond the narrower limits of our duties towards the
community in which we live, and beyond that, to
the State of which we are citizens, and so there need be
no clashing of well-directed interests. Nor are we
better sons from not listening to the dictates of
honesty and of honour as guiding our every act, and
of living up to our ultimate ideals as far as possible
for ourselves and for humanity at large.

In this progression of duties, from the narrower and
immediate to the wider and ultimate, the same
considerations with regard to our duty to the State
and to humanity at large hold good as those which we
have just noted in our duties to our family in their rela-
tion to the wider duties. The questions here involved
concern the duties of the true patriot. We are con-
fronted by that much-discussed and difficult problem
of the relation between true patriotism and what
has been called cosmopolitanism. The two are sup-
posed to clash ; and it has justly been said, in the
passage quoted (p. 1 17) from George Eliot, that " The
time is not yet come for cosmopolitanism to be highly
virtuous, any more than for communism to suffice
for social energy." As the epithet of patriot is so
frequently abused by him who wishes to escape from
ordinary duties, so cosmopolitanism has often been
used by those who wish to shirk the duties of citizen-
ship and pride themselves upon a wider vision and
a higher scale of morality than those who, without
assertion or pretence, follow the dictates of the
traditional duties in the conditions in which they
live. As Tennyson says :

He is the best cosmopolite

Who loves his native country best.

THE TRUE COSMOPOLITAN 131

On the other hand, I have ventured to supplement
these lines of the great poet in maintaining that —

He loves his native country best
Who loves mankind the more.

As we have just seen in regard of the family and the
wider community, so we shall find that the citizen
whose scale of morality reaches far beyond his own
country and embraces the whole of humanity, nay,
even includes wider cosmical and religious concep-
tions and ideals, is more likely to be a good citizen
and a true patriot.

CHAPTER IX

THE WRONG AND THE RIGHT NATIONALISM

The right We have already considered the effect of Chauvinism
istence of uPon g°°d citizenship. To be a good citizen also
the state, implies, first, that we should have an intelligent and
thoroughly thoughtful conception of what the State
means and what, in consequence, its laws enact ;
and, secondly, that we should do our share to make
this State a true expression of its purpose and to
fashion its laws in accordance with the progressive
needs of highest human nature and the ultimate
ideals of humanity. No State has a right to exist
the aims and objects of which run directly counter
to those of humanity at large. When a State
develops, or rather degenerates, into such a condition
it changes from a moral State to an immoral State, and
ought to be reformed or removed from the face of
the earth. It might be an over-statement to say
that a State is formed for the definite and direct
purpose of confirming and advancing the moral aims
of humanity ; but I doubt whether any political
cynic or modern Macchiavelli would venture to hold
that the aims of any State are avowedly immoral and
clash with the supreme interests of humanity. It
may be put as the first duty of every citizen, so
far as he can and to however minimal a degree, to
affect the constitution and function of the State of
which he is a citizen, to bring the laws of his
country and its government into harmony with the

132

THE GOOD PATRIOT AND THE GOOD SON 133

universally valid and recognised interests and morals
of a wider humanity. He can then rest assured that,
in following this course, he is performing the chief
duties of a patriot.

" My country ! right or wrong ! " may be a good
epigrammatic — and therefore exaggerated — state-
ment of the duties arising out of a peculiarly abnormal
condition. Just as a good son or a devoted wife
might say " My father," or " My husband, right or
wrong." The son and the wife can never escape
from certain duties which this close relationship
imposes upon them. They may provide for the best
legal advice, minister as far as possible to the com-
forts which their criminal relative needs when he is
confined in prison, and even support him as he is
led to gallows ; but they dare not uphold — and thus
become party to — the crime which he has committed.
Before he had become a criminal and after he had
been released, however, it was their duty to do all in
their power to prevent him from falling or relapsing
into crime. Though we must follow the call to arms
when our country is at war, we must do our best to
prevent an unjust war and to make war among
civilised people impossible in the future. The ana-
logy which I have just adduced fails, however, in one
most important point : namely, in that the family
is a body definitely fixed by manifest and immutable
biological laws of consanguinity, while the State is
not. The individual has nothing to do with the estab-
lishment of such a relationship in the family ; he
is born a son ; and the paternal relation of the
father to the child is a definite physical fact. But
humanity has risen above the purely patriarchal con-
ception of the State. The modern State is a volun-
tary creation of intelligent human beings, based
upon fundamental ideas, to the realisation of which
they all give their consent, guided by their best

134 THE WRONG AND RIGHT NATIONALISM

Renan's
Qitest-ce

qu'une
Nation ?

thought and confirmed by their moral consciousness.
Whatever it may have been in the past, however
varied and numerous may have been the different
forms under which that great creation of social beings
manifests itself in history, not one of the earlier
conceptions will fit the facts and the needs, the
political convictions of modern man.

In the very able and lucid discourse, Qu'est-ce
qu'une Nation ? Ernest Renan answers the ques-
tion as to the essence of what a State or a nation
really is. After convincingly proving that the
modern State does not depend for its essence upon
race, language, interests, religious affinities, geo-
graphy, or military necessity, he then declares that
a nation is a " soul," a spiritual principle : " Une
nation est une ame, un principe spirituel " : and he
then defines what constitutes such a " soul," such a
spiritual principle. The soul arises out of the
common possession of a rich inheritance of memories ;
the spiritual principle is the actual consent, the desire
to live together, the will to continue and to realise
in the common life the undivided heritage which has
been thus received. I strongly recommend the
reader to study the eloquent exposition of this philo-
sopher and great master of style. The memories,
the inheritance of the past, the sufferings and struggles
which have given the soul to a nation and constitute
one of its strongest elements of unity, culminate in
what we call its civilisation (Kultur), the degree of
civilisation to which each country has attained.
Race and country, language and religious affinities,
interests, and, above all, self-preservation (which cor-
responds to what Renan called military necessities)
may all have contributed in the past to produce
this unity and may powerfully urge, as they justify,
each citizen to preserve that unity. Each one has
its claims But we must guard against urging the

THE TRUE ELEMENTS OF NATIONALITY 135

claims of each out of proportion to the wholeness of
this organism. It is a far-reaching error to believe
that the more apparently fundamental, tangible, and
patently manifest one of these elements is, the more
urgent become its claims to consideration for the
State and for the support of such claims on the part
of the individual. The very fact that country is
often synonymous with State, that people or nation
are used indifferently to convey the idea of race, that
religious differences were frequently in history the
direct causes of antagonism and war between States,
might make each of these elements appear decisive
and essential connotations in the conception of a
State. But there are other elements which go to
the making of a nationality, apparently remote, but
none the less effective. There is the history of
morals as well as the common intellectual achieve-
ments of the several peoples themselves. They may
be more directly and potently creative of the
11 nation's soul " than the other physical factors
mentioned above. We again have the horizontal,
and not the perpendicular, division forced upon us.
In the epigrammatic — perhaps the exaggerated —
form of two mottoes to a book,1 I attempted to
convey this truth by maintaining, first, " that the
Abolition of Slavery and the Renaissance are as much
a fatherland as are England, Germany, France, or
the United States " ; and, secondly (with the doubtful
introduction of a newly coined word), " that there is
a strong bond of humanity ; but there is also the
golden chain of gentlemanity." I endeavoured to
suggest in these epigrams that the common achieve-
ments of civilisation, upon which the actual con-
sciousness of the people in a civilised State rests, are
as direct and potent a tie — and certainly ought to be
so — in binding together into a social and political

1 The Jewish Question, etc. New York, 1894.

136 THE WRONG AND RIGHT NATIONALISM

unity the people with whom these achievements of a
common humanity have entered into the very bone
and marrow of their moral and intellectual exist-
ence, as are race, geography, formal religion, or
interests.

What I miss in the excellent exposition of Renan —
though I thoroughly agree with his critical examina-
tion and rejection of the several elements that are
commonly supposed to determine the conception of
a State, and though I agree with the soul-giving
importance of common memories and common suffer-
ing in the past — what I miss is, that he has not
clearly considered the present and future activities
of such a collective entity as a State in confirming
these memories and in preparing for more definite
activities and ideals in the future. We must add in
the first place to the elements which he has adduced
the common laws and customs, and, in the second
place, the moral consciousness of this " soul " of a
State. These common laws and customs do not only
direct the actual life, the public opinion, the tone
and moral of a community or a nation, and give it a
The con- common consistency and individuality ; but they
stitution aiso jea(j directly to the formation of a political
consciousness, manifesting itself in the codified or un-
codified constitution of each nation. And it is this
immediate self-expression of a State in its political
constitution, itself the outcome of all these several
State-forming elements, which gives it its most clearly
manifest individuality and personality in its relation
to the citizens within and to other States without.
The But the second element of equal importance in the
social andmaking and maintenance of a State is the fact of its
ideas. moral and social ideals, towards which as a whole it
tends, and which give it the ultimate sanction of the
best that is in each one of its citizens. For as it is
not enough now to say that the greatest happiness to

PATRIOTISM AND COSMOPOLITANISM 137

the greatest number satisfies our political conscience
as it did that of the doctrinaires of the Manchester
school, it is not even enough to say that we wish to
realise our Kultur within ourselves and even to
impose it upon others ; for this must imply that we
are satisfied that our Kultur is worthy of thus being
realised and desirable in the interests of those upon
whom we wish to impose it. In one word, it means,
that we must bring our national and political ethics
into conformity with general human ethics. Unless
we can honestly convince ourselves that the ultimate
aim of the State is, not only to satisfy and to elevate
its citizens, but to contribute to the welfare and
advancement of humanity at large, we cannot feel
honestly convinced that our legislative and political
activities are following the right course. But when
we are satisfied that our national activities are thus
harmonised with the wider and ultimate ethical
laws of humanity, we can actually adopt, not only
cosmopolitan ideals, but definite cosmopolitan duties
and aims without in any way clashing with our duties
as patriots.

In any case, we then find that race and geographical
position are not enough to separate or isolate us from
the rest of mankind ; that what I have called the
perpendicular subdivision must be replaced by the
horizontal ; and that our ideals, even as applied to
the State itself as a separate entity, recognise
Humanity and the supreme laws of ethics in the light
of humanity that is, and the desirable humanity
that is to follow, and are to be subordinated under
these supreme laws and adapted to these supreme
ends. We then find that not only is war between
such civilised nations a monstrosity, but that actu-
ally there is the strongest bond uniting all those
who hold the same convictions and who cherish the
same aspirations for the future of man and the ad-

Relation

of na-
tional
ethics to
human
ethics.

Patriot-
ism and
cosmo-
politan-
ism need
not clash.

138 THE WRONG AND RIGHT NATIONALISM

vancement of civilisation as powerful as, if not more
powerful than, those which bind human beings to-
gether in active or in passive community on the
ground merely of race, topography, or local propin-
quity, or community of material interests.
Such cos- Cosmopolitanism thus becomes a fact which in no
SnSm"inway clasnes with patriotism and with loyalty to the
inde- State of which we are citizens. We shall then have
mdUvidu- a rea^ federation based, not upon fortuitous con-
aiity of ditions and fluctuating interests, but upon common
states ideals which are more real and more lasting than
and. the supposed practical and opportunistic motives in
ties. the daily life of the unthinking. There is no danger,
moreover, of the destruction of individuality in each
separate State as a result of such wider and actual
federation. Nor does such wider federation in any
way imply absorption of the smaller States and
nationalities by the larger. On the contrary, the
freedom and individuality of the smaller States will
thereby be assured and strengthened.
Roman- There is an insidious fallacy in the reasoning of
fake3' manY people who worship the picturesqueness and
concep- variety in a manifestation of individual character
individu- from a supposedly artistic, but really from a theatrical
ality. and sham-artistic, motive and point of view. They
fear the loss of picturesqueness in the world when
through such federation the human races are brought
actually more closely together. Such romanticists
deplore the spread of freedom and equality in the
opportunities of life, of sanitary improvements, of
saving of arduous and degrading labour, of the increase
of all comforts in living to the wretched toiler of the
field or artisan, as compared with the misery of
mediaeval servitude, which they glorify through the
distorted and falsified vision of a degraded cowardice
as regards the present and of an illusory mental
obliquity as regards the past. They selfishly would

" PICTURESQUENESS " IN NATIONALITY 139

like to keep, for their own puny theatricality and
artistic enjoyment, the hind and serf dwelling in the
most wretched squalor in his picturesque hovel and
issuing thence in his picturesque costume, as, with
cringing servility, he salutes his over-lord, and shuffles
to and from his wretched toil from morning unto weary
night in order to keep body and soul together for
himself and his starving children. He deplores the
introduction of all those improvements in living, in
education of mind and character, which rob people
of this " picturesque " individuality and raise them
collectively to a higher standard of human existence ;
as he regrets the facile means of modern transporta-
tion, not only rightly when they wantonly destroy
the beauties of nature, but because they make more
accessible to the masses of even ignorant and un-
appreciative toilers the opportunities of raising their
physical vitality and their spiritual taste. And,
more or less consciously, he deplores this because it
interferes with the quiet and secluded enjoyment of
these rare beauties by those who deem themselves
the supremely privileged aesthetic aristocracy of the
world, and whose enjoyment in its concentrated
seclusion from all interference is disturbed by the
wider participation, as the mystic and sacred circles
of the chosen lose their exclusive solidarity.1

1 The following passage from The Work of John Ruskin (by the
Author) deals with this question, p. 151 : "There is a truth strongly-
put by Ruskin for which he would have gained more universal recogni-
tion if the statements of it had been more moderate and in conformity
with fact, namely, the duty of maintaining the land which we inhabit in
the conditions conducive to health, and with the careful guarding and
preservation of the natural and historical beauties, which are, to omit
all their spiritual qualifications, real national possessions of the highest
economical value. To allow the smoke from the chimneys to turn
pure air into pestilential miasmata, to see beautiful streams and rivers
defiled, to witness the most lovely and unique scenes ruthlessly robbed
of their chief charms of natural beauty — these are losses which, if
they do not bear comparison with actual industrial loss to individual
members or groups of the community, will outweigh them heavily.

140 THE WRONG AND RIGHT NATIONALISM

But there is no danger that among the States those
forms of justified and desirable individuality, or among
communities, localities, or individuals will be destroyed
by the realisation of such wider federation towards a
common end for the whole of humanity. On the con-
trary, war and conquest are the levellers, and this war
does not only mean the clash of arms and the destruction
of lives, but it also means a commercial and industrial
war as pitiless and as destructive as that of rifles and
cannon which is being waged mercilessly throughout
the modern world by the upholders of the highest
Militar- civilisation. Militarism and commercialism are the
m^cia™" enemies °f aU individuality, as, on the other extreme,
ism, and are socialism and the blind and unintelligent tyranny
th^ene™ °f the trades unions. Freed from these levellers of
mies of all all superiority and genius, the human individual and
ality. the collective groups, local or ethnical, and also the
separate States, will more freely and more effectually
develop their own individualities and contribute to
the harmony and progress of humanity as a whole.
The separate States all possessing their " souls," as
Renan has called them, will assert, refine, and
strengthen their national souls. They exist now in

The day may come when one of the most important functions of the
government concerned with the internal affairs of a nation will be
to secure and guard the public lands for the purposes of national
health and of national delectation.

"But when Ruskin complains that the delightful silence which reigned
in some rural districts is now disturbed by the life of industry, and
that portions of Switzerland which he and other kindred spirits
could once enjoy in comparative seclusion are vulgarised by numbers
of uneducated tourists ; when he complains of the very facility of
approach to many of these sacred haunts brought about by the rail-
ways, and the picnics which do not agree with the exquisite musings
of the solitary votary of nature, we cannot help feeling that this arises
not only from a romantic but from an essentially unsocial spirit.
There can be no doubt that our enjoyment must be impaired by the
reduction of what stimulates our highest emotions to a commonplace ;
but we must willingly make this sacrifice when we consider the great
gain accruing to hundreds or thousands where before it but reached
units."

INDIVIDUALITY OF NATIONS 141

spite of all the forces that go to their undoing,
and we can readily recognise them ; and each one of
them contributes to the health and vigour and the
ennobling of the soul of humanity — nay, of the World-
soul. I may perhaps be allowed here to quote the
words which I addressed to the Congress of German
Journalists when they met in London in 1906:

M The positive aim, on the other hand, which we
must have before us in this meeting is the safeguard-
ing and the advancement of that Western European
civilisation which rests upon us all together. I do
not mean by this that this civilisation is tied down to
the European Continent. The United States is an
integral part of it, and, to single out one personality,
I am sure you will all agree that no living man is more
truly and effectually moved by these ideals than
President Roosevelt. Moreover, if in the Far East
Japan shows her sincere eagerness to adopt and make
her own the best that is in our civilisation — the best
of our ideals, not merely our material achievements —
they, too, will form an organic part in this great con-
federation. Yet, to feel this community and to
further its aims, it is not at all necessary that we
should all be the same. On the contrary, it is here,
within this sphere of common union, that true
Nationalism has its fullest and most effective play.
We are each of us, in our peculiar national charac-
ter and individuality, necessary to the maintenance
and advance of this common civilisation. If, to
take but our three great Western nations, I might
venture upon a bold generalisation — they are always
inaccurate — I would say that in the past history of
thought and culture and public life, England has
often performed the function of invention and
initiation ; this was the achievement of a Shakespeare,
of a Bacon, a Newton, a Darwin, and, in public life,
of the birth of Parliamentarism. Germany has with
glorious vigour stood before the world as the country
of intellectual depth and sincerity of mind, of thor-
oughness and spiritualisation of man's achievements

142 THE WRONG AND RIGHT NATIONALISM

in all spheres, of unending perseverance in the fight
for truth, carrying everything into the realm of highest
and widest conception. France is the nation of
artistic imagination and courage, which leads them
not to fear the attempt of carrying into actual life,
into palpitating realisation, the bold ideas conceived
by the intellect ; it has, as a nation, the artistic, the
creative, the passionate courage in giving actual
form to the world of thought. Germany educates
the mind, England the character, France the
imagination which gives vitality to both. In the
peaceful interpenetration of these forces our ethical
life will be raised. All three of us, fighting with our
several weapons, working in our several methods,
approaching the common goal from our different
roads, lead mankind to what we are bound to consider
the best and the highest."

Unity of The unity and solidarity of the federation of civil-
tioniSa~ ised States is the great reality even now in the
The consciousness of all right-thinking men all over the
Tribunal. WOI"ld. At this moment it rises in the hearts of
countless men, from the illiterate unskilled labourer
to the philosopher, in violent though helpless pro-
test, not only against the barbarism, cruelty and
treachery, but against the absolute stupidity, of a
war such as is now devastating Europe, jeopardising
the prosperity of the countries farthest removed from
the scene of war, and setting the hands of the clock
back for generations in the progress of the world.
Para- And the irony of it all is that this unity has received
contra- deliberate and powerful expression in the actual
diction to international politics of our own days — namely, in
versaim" tne Hague Convention. But what have we witnessed
con- within the last few months ? That the deliberate
ness by resolutions passed in concert by all the powerful
War« States and subscribed to by them with their sign-
manual and political authority in the same spirit
that a bond and contract is recognised as binding

FEDERATION OF STATES 143

in the business of daily life between individuals,
corporate commercial bodies, and all other organisa-
tions of civilised States, have been ignored, spurned,
and set ruthlessly aside, and have made way for the
practice of most savage barbarians without even
the chivalry that these may have possessed — man
turned to beast, and adding his cunning to the
savagery of the hungry animal. We ask ourselves :
How was this possible ? How could the whole
civilised world with its so-called public opinion, its
moral consciousness, even its common interests,
stand aside and see itself ignored and flouted in the
face of its all-powerful will ? The answer is : first,
because there are many people — even would-be
philosophers and psychologists — who maintain that
war is an inevitable incident in the life of nations,
that it is essential to man, even man who has risen
from the prehistoric savage to the citizenship of the
most highly civilised States ; and second, that there
is no right without might, or rather that the right
cannot prevail unless there is might to enforce it.

11

CHAPTER X

THE DISEASE OF WAR

It has actually been stated, that war is a " bio-
logical necessity." Who has ever heard, or who can
ever conceive of a biological necessity which means
the survival of the unfittest — the slaying of those who
are, not only physically, but morally the superior
members of the community ? It is a wanton perver-
sion by man of nature's primary law of the Survival
of the Fittest. As Dr. Inge has pointed out : ■

" Its dysgenic effect by eliminating the strongest
and healthiest of the population, while leaving the
weaklings at home to be fathers of the next generation,
is no new discovery. It has been supported by a
succession of men, such as Tenon, Dufau, Foissac,
de Lapouge, and Richet in France ; Tiedemann and
Seeck in Germany ; Guerrini in Italy ; Kellogg and
Starr Jordon in America. The case is, indeed, over-
whelming. The lives destroyed in war are nearly all
males, thus disturbing the sex equilibrium of the
population ; they are in the prime of life, at the age
of greatest fecundity ; and they are picked from a
list out of which from 30 to 40 per cent, have been
rejected for physical unfitness. It seems to be proved
that the children born in France during the Napoleonic
wars were poor and undersized — 30 millimetres below
the normal height. War combined with religious
celibacy to ruin Spain. ' Castile makes men and
wastes them,' said a Spanish writer. ' This sublime
and terrible phrase sums up the whole of Spanish
history.' Schiller was right : Immer der Krieg ver-
schlingt die besten."

1 he. cit.
144

WAR AND LAW CONTRADICTORY 145

We may add that, in countries with voluntary
enlistment, like England in normal conditions, the
dysgenic effect with regard to the transmission of
moral qualities is still more pronounced. For it is
the bravest and all those possessed of the highest
sense of duty who enlist, while the moral " wasters "
remain at home.

Those who maintain the justice of war as an in- War

eradicable element in the constitution of the human neither
.... a phy-

being can claim logical consistency when, in denning sioio-

war, they maintain that it is the arbitrament of^0crala"

superior power and not of reasoned justice. The moral and

moment reasoned justice is introduced in any degree, nec^s-

there is no logical reason why it should not be intro- sity-

duced in its entirety. You cannot deal with justice

as with the curate's egg. There is no partial justice. The in_

If you have the power in any way to curb the realisa- justice of

tion of might in this struggle of adjudicating right, Might

there is no reason why the whole of might should not divorced

be subordinated to reasoned right and bow to its right

commands. War governed by law is a contradiction

in terms. It may be said that in the duel of former

days, as in the prize-fight, certain laws have been

enforced regulating the contest and establishing a

subdivision of law within the clashing of powers

to satisfy the sense of fair play. But it must never

be forgotten that in the case of the duel and of the

prize-fight there was a superior legal power outside

and beyond, which could at any moment have caused

the appeal to a decision by power to be entirely

quashed and discontinued. Moreover, from a wider

point of view, even the introduction of this partial

aspect of law in the form of an assurance of fair play

in the process of the actual fight did not remove the

iniquity that the contestants might not be fairly

matched through mere physical preparation or by

the concentration of practice, ending in professional

146 THE DISEASE OF WAR

skill on the part of one of the contestants who sacri-
fices the whole of his normal humanity and claims to
social eligibility by turning himself into a mere
fighting machine.

The analogy, therefore, does not hold good when it

comes to States with no superior constraining power

to impress the controlling dictates of equity and

law such as exists in the case of contests between

individuals. If, therefore, the whole element of

reasoned justice is eliminated from the arbitrament

of power in war, it is quite consistent to maintain (as

has frankly and cynically been done by German

historians and politicians) that power must be made

as fearful as possible, and there is thus no limit to

brutality and savagery.

History That this is in flagrant contradiction to the moral

confirm consciousness and to the public opinion of all

the im- civilised nations need hardly be insisted upon. Nor

biiityof can we believe that the theories and practices of

the war- the German militarists who are responsible for this

spirit. war are really endorsed by the vast majority of the

German people and would not be repudiated by the

thoughtful and highly moral representatives of that

nation.

The chief fallacy of those who consider war a neces-
sary occurrence in the organisation of human society
is based upon a fundamental misconception of fact
in history concerning the action of States towards
one another, as well as the social development of
the individuals within each State. Those who are
thus misled point to the past and ask the question,
whether there ever was a period in man's past when
there was no war. Their views would apparently
receive some support as regards progress in the moral
development of political units throughout history
when we realise the sudden relapse into barbarism
and savagery in our own days and at this compara-

HISTORICAL FALLACY OF WAR 147

tively advanced stage of development in civilisation.
But this astounding modern phenomenon in the
history of mankind is to a great extent to be accounted
for by the prevalent inadequacy of the very concep-
tion of what a State is. Furthermore, when history
is no longer measured by a few centuries, but a much
wider range of study and generalisation is admitted,
the claims to immutability of customs, laws and
interests lose all justification, and we no longer dare
speak of " natural " and " essential " attributes of
human beings and human society.

If we turn back to prehistoric times, we shall on the
find that this fighting instinct of man dominated, JhJ^v?'
not only individual life at a time when it formed dence
a necessary impulse to self-preservation, but also decline,
ruled the communal existence of each period, the it was
family, the clan or tribe, or race, or nation. Fight- dominant
ing and war were constantly present in the minds «£*?* in
and life of the peoples of bygone ages. It was the early-
ruling factor, directing their earliest education for Periods«
which man prepared himself in every stage, and the
skill and superiority he attained in it formed the
chief basis of all social distinction and moral praise,
and, even, through the further effect upon sexual
selection, directed and modified the survival of the
fittest and the character of races as they advanced
in the course of time. The direct act of mere physical
fighting was ever present to the conscious and the
subconscious habitual life of bygone peoples. In the
earliest stages of man's history it would have been
quite impossible to convince men or communities
that they were not to look upon their immediate
neighbours or the people living but a few miles distant
as enemies, whom at any time it might be their duty
to subdue by physical force ; that their possessions
would be secured even for generations to come ;
that justice in their claims to possession would be

148 THE DISEASE OF WAR

enforced without physical intervention, hundreds of
miles away, nay, beyond the seas, among peoples and
races whom they might never see and whose exist-
ence and institutions were completely foreign to
them. Imagine the effect upon a man living — we will
not say in the palaeolithic, but in the neolithic age,
nay, even upon the inhabitants of Central Europe
for some centuries in the Middle Ages — if you were
to tell him that he could assert and maintain his
rights and secure his life and independence in every
aspect of his existence, from the lowest phases up to
his power of selecting his own rulers, and that these
claims would be based upon the principles of reasoned
justice for which all beings crave from the moment
they become sentient and intelligent ! Surely, had
it been possible to describe such a state of things to
our earlier ancestors, they would not only have con-
sidered us Utopians and dreamers, but deliberate
liars. At all events, they would have met us, had
they been given to generalisation, with the dogmatic
statement that it was " contrary to human nature "
thus to be subdued by general law ; and, on the
narrow analogy of their own immediate and lower
experience in which such radical change would appear
to be impossible, they would have asserted the
absolute impossibility of transferring such conditions
to wider and still higher spheres. The step from
some conditions prevailing even a few centuries ago,
when witches were still burnt and their existence was
vouched for by the mass of credulous people, to those
ruling our present life to such a degree, that we cannot
conceive of their not having existed before us, is, I
maintain, much greater than from the international
warlike attitude of the present day to the day when
war between nations has become inconceivable.

To give but one further instance of the unfounded-
ness of such negative prediction with regard to future

WARFARE AND DUELLING 149

developments of human society, based upon the Analogy
narrow experience of lower conditions of life pre- %^e
vailing at the time, we need but turn to the considera-
tion of one social institution which dominated the
life of the highest class of human beings in civilised
countries but a short time ago and which, strangely-
enough (though upon examination we shall find that
it is not so strange !) still survives in Germany. This
is the duel. Three generations ago the duel was still
the customary means of righting wrongs among a
certain section of society in England. It has entirely
vanished from our lives. Not only our children,
but we ourselves of the present generation, can no
more think of it as a means of redress for wrongs
done to us than we would turn to augury for direction
in battle, or to the " Judgment by God " to maintain
the justice of our individual claims. Had you asked
any gentleman a hundred years ago, whether he could
dispense with the duel, he would have said : " Cer-
tainly not ; it is essential to human nature to fight,
and it is still more essential for a man of honour to
stand up for his rights in certain contingencies at
the risk of his life to punish the aggressor and to
defend his honour." This same view prevails to-day
among some of the most highly intelligent, honour-
able, and distinguished people in Germany. More
than once I have had certain Germans, whom I hold
in the highest esteem and in whose intelligence and
sense of justice in all other respects I have the greatest
faith — I have had such men ask me : " How can you
get on in England without the duel ? It is impos-
sible to do so." In spite of all the reasons one could
give, they considered our attitude to be almost
" against nature," certainly against higher nature.
But we can well understand, in the light of what we
now know, why a Bernhardi should uphold this
effete and absurd institution, even why a Bismarck

150 THE DISEASE OF WAR

and (as I have heard him do on the authority of that
great statesman) a Treitschke, should have praised
the grotesque survival of the attenuated form of
duelling practised by German students, as a most
beneficent influence in the development of their
social life and character. One can understand why
the Kaiser and his immediate military advisers should
uphold it, and why the judiciary bench should have
committed such a legal crime in dealing with the
Zabern affair. But surely when the definite example
is before their eyes of other civilised nations like the
English and the Americans, emerging from this lower
and more barbarous survival of earlier days and clearly
demonstrating that, in spite of the fighting instinct
in man, the duel is entirely expunged from the records
of our civilised life, it can then no longer be main-
tained that the duel is an essential, necessary institu-
tion which will maintain itself for all times.
War be- Now, the same applies, a fortiori, to war between
nations States. For the quarrels and the fighting between
is less of individuals, and the causes which lead to them, are
sitythan so frequent and imminent in the diversified conditions
the duel Gf human intercourse that they must constantly

between .

indivi- occur, however readily they may be suppressed by
duals. the hand of justice. And when we consider the
variation in personal impetuosity and passion among
millions of men and women living together, we can
understand how the violence of passion and the haste
of action may constantly produce transgression of
the law, even crime in its most destructive forms.
But remember : large bodies move slowly. In spite
of the " psychology of the crowd," and the diffi-
culty of calming or subduing the collective passion
of a moving mass, when once it begins its onward
rush, the action of States — especially those blessed
with representative government — must be compara-
tively slow and deliberate and give time for reflection

MIGHT AND RIGHT 151

and for the consideration of the claims of justice.
A man, even the most self-controlled and temperate,
may strike a quick blow in a fit of passion ; a State
cannot go to war without forethought and deliberate
preparation. At all events, the possibility of such
an outburst which may in the end become most
passionate, is not conceivable in the case of a modern
State, and therefore justice, in the case of international
differences and contests, can always prevent ; while
in the individual life within the State it can only
menace by general enactments, or punish after the
crime has already been committed. It is thus more
possible — not less — in the relation between States,
to counteract and check the instinct for fighting and
the antagonism to law and justice, than it is in the
case of individuals. The only remaining difference
is that in the one case there is the constraining power
behind the law, and in the other it does not yet
exist.

CHAPTER XI

THE CURE OF THE DISEASE OF WAR

The

union of
might
and

right in
inter-
national
tribunal.

Federa-
tion of
States in-
sufficient,

It thus remains for us — and the end of this terrible
war will mark the initiation — to add the element of
might to that of right, and thus to wipe war among
civilised nations from off the face of the world for
all times. What Kant and so many philosophers
dreamt of will, nay, must, in the necessity of events,
now become a reality. We must add to the Hague
Tribunal the power of enforcing its enactments and
of policing international relations.

It has been admitted on all sides — in fact, it has
almost become a commonplace to say — that some-
thing must be done in the future to assert the collec-
tive will of civilised humanity in order to convert
the arbitrament of war into the arbitrament of justice.
It has been urged by experienced statesmen, practical
and at the same time thoughtful and high-minded,
that there must be some form of federation of at
least the European States, or of the civilised States
of the world, asserting the unity of interests and the
unity of ideals which they all have in common, and
thus to provide for a tangible safeguard of peace. I
venture to doubt whether such a federation by itself
would prove practically efficacious. The evil tra-
ditions of international diplomacy are so strongly
established that, reform them as you may, the
separate interests dominating each one of the States,
and within each State powerful bodies, whether

152

INTERNATIONAL ALLIANCES INSUFFICIENT 153

political, commercial, or financial, would all make for
the undoing of this spirit of unity. The avowed or
implied, the secret or public, formation of groups of
alliances or ententes, corresponding to the community
of certain interests (themselves temporary and
changeable), the affinities of race and religions, and
many other disintegrating causes, will make themselves
felt and affect the solidarity of such a federation. A
closer federation in some form may come, and it will
come in the course of evolution when once the
menace of war is removed, and will then be more
firmly based on the actual growth of the lasting
factors which make for humanitarian harmony.

But the first and supreme necessity is to add, inAninter-
the most direct and effective form, the element of£^|°tnal
might to that of right, the power of constraining the backed
world to bow to the judicial enactments of an Inter- fZ*^
national Court. Then, and only then, will there power is
be practical efficiency : and this practical advance Safe-°n y
towards an ideal end will be strengthened by the fact guard °*
that it conforms to material interests and requirements,
to economy of public treasure, in the case of each
State. The economic principles of co-operation, of The
division of labour, organisation and concentration frendof
of energy and resources, have been dominant in modern modern
commerce and industry mainly for the good and makes for
sometimes for the bad. But they certainly commend sucn cp-
themselves to the intelligence and the interests of the among
modern world. Disarmament, or partial disarma- states«
ment, is called for by the workers all over the world.

The burden of taxation which armaments imply Burdens
had already become intolerable and in itself led to JioIfKl
effective opposition in every one of the States — apart cause of
from all the other evil consequences of its effects mentsun-
which have so frequently been pointed out and have bearable,
been so fully realised of late.

The history of the Prussian Army since the days

154 THE CURE OF THE DISEASE OF WAR

Mere
limita-
tion of
armies
and ar-
maments
not
enough.

More
practical,
econo-
mical.and
effective
to create
interna-
tional
armies
and arma-
ments.

Nature
and con-
stitution
of such
an Inter-
national
Court.

of Frederick the Great and Napoleon has shown
how easily any restrictions regulating the sizes of
armies and navies can be evaded. Nor can it be an
advantage to encourage interference with the internal
affairs of any State and thus to jeopardise its inde-
pendence.

It will be more effective, as well as more economical,
and in conformity with the spirit of our age, to create
international armies and armaments, towards which
each State pro rata contributes its portion, which will
be so much more powerful than those of any one
State or group of States, that they can enforce the
enactments of an International Court beyond all
doubt or cavil. The international unity within
national freedom and independence — nay, safe-guard-
ing and strengthening the independence of each
State — must find direct and forcible expression in the
establishment of an International Court backed by an
international army and navy which are placed entirely
under its control.

I may perhaps be allowed to quote what on this
point I published in 1899 (The Expansion of Western
Ideals, etc., p. 105) in a sketch of how this federation
of civilised States might be realised in the institution of
one central international tribunal with a corresponding
power to enforce its decisions :

" It is thus that the expansion of Western ideals
will ultimately tend towards the supreme goal of the
World's Peace ; and I maintain, in all sincerity of
conviction, that it is through the introduction of
the United States into this great expanding move-
ment, and through, as a first step, the realisation of
the English-speaking Brotherhood that this ultimate
goal is most likely to be attained.

" When, within the last decade, colonial expansion
more and more asserted itself as the dominant motive-
power in the policy of European nations, the lovers

ENGLISH-SPEAKING BROTHERHOOD 155

of progress and peace were struck with horror at the
appearance of this new Leviathan, this great enemy
of humanity, that threatened to furnish a continu-
ance of causes for internecine warfare after the
dynastic rivalries had died away, and when the racial
and territorial differences seemed to be gradually
losing their virulent energy in Europe. It looked as
if we were entering into a chaotic period of Universal
Grab, in which each nation would rush in to seize all
the spoils it could carry, and would frequently have
to drop them in order to fight its equally voracious
neighbour. This gloomy view has been completely
dispelled by the prospect of a real English-speaking
Brotherhood. For, as regards colonial expansion,
I can see the English-speaking conception of colon-
isation in clear opposition, in the domain of material
interests as well as in that of ideas and ideals, to
that of the Continental European Powers. And this
common ground of thought, feeling, and action will of
necessity tend to bind the English-speaking peoples
together. Through it I look forward to much more
than an Anglo-Saxon Alliance. I can see the day
when there will be a great confederation of the inde-
pendent and self-governing English-speaking nations,
made clearly recognisable and effective to the outer
world by some new form of international corporation,
which statesmen and jurists will be able to devise
when the necessity of things calls for it. For, day
by day, this union of the English-speaking peoples
is becoming more of an accomplished fact in the
social and economical life of the people themselves.
Consider the strength of such a confederation ! Who
will say nay to it ? And the stronger it is, the better
for the peace of the world ; it will ensure this more
effectually than any number of Peace Congresses con-
voked by the mightiest of monarchs.

" Step by step this power will advance, binding
the nations together, not severing them. For it will
be based upon ideas which unite, and not upon race
which severs. And all those who share these ideas
are ipso facto a part of this union ; Germany, which
stands before the world as a great leader of human

156 THE CURE OF THE DISEASE OF WAR

intelligence, will be with us. France, which over-
threw mediaeval feudalism and first raised the torch
of freedom, will be with us in spite of the tragic
crisis through which it is at present passing, when
vicious reaction is contending with delirious anarchy ;
— for it must never be forgotten that the France of
to-day produced the Picquarts, Zolas, and many
other heroes who fought for the sanctity of justice.
Thousands of Russians, their numbers constantly
swelling, will be with us in spirit, and the spirit will
force its essence into inert matter ; these leaders will
educate the people until they will modify (let us hope
gradually) the spirit of their own government.

" Then we shall be prepared to make an end of
war ; because behind the great humanitarian ideas
there will be the power to safeguard these ideas.
' No right without might ' is a cynical aphorism of
which history has proved the truth. To be effective,
the law must have behind it the power to enforce its
decisions. It is so in national law, and it will be so
in international law.

" Let us allow our ' dream ' to materialise still
further. I can see this great Confederacy of the
future established permanently with its local habi-
tation, let us say on one of the islands — the Azores,
Bermuda, the Canaries, Madeira. And here will be
sitting the great Court of Arbitration, composed of
most eminent men from all the nations in the Con-
federacy. Here will be assembled, always ready to
carry into effect the laws enacted, an international
army, and an international fleet, — the police of the
world's highways. No recalcitrant nation (then, and
only then, will the nations be able to disarm) could
venture to oppose its will to that of this supreme
representative of justice. Perhaps this Court may
develop into a Court of Appeals, dealing not only with
matters of State. The function of this capital to
the great Confederacy will not only concern war,
but peace as well. There will be established here
1 Bureaux ' representing the interests which all the
nations have in common. As regards commerce and
industry, they will distribute throughout the world

THE NEW AMPHYCTIONIC COUNCIL 157

important information concerning the supply and
demand of the world's markets, and counteracting
to some extent the clumsy economical chaos which
now causes so much distress throughout the world.
Science and art, which are ever the most effective
bonds between civilised peoples, will there find their
international habitation, and here will be established
the great international universities, and libraries, and
museums. There will be annual exhibitions of works
of art and industry, so that the nations, compara-
tively so ignorant of each other's work now, should
learn fully to appreciate each other. And at greater
intervals there will be greater exhibitions and
international meetings, the modern form of the Olympic
games. The Amphyctionic Council of Delphi, as
well as the Olympic Games of the small Greek com-
munities, will find their natural and unromantic
revival in this centre of civilisation, this tangible
culminating point of Western Ideals. Thus will the
World's Peace be ensured, the nations be brought
together, and the ancient inherited prejudices and
hatreds be stamped out from the face of the earth."

The great Amphyctionic Council, into whose hands
all the civilised States will, by mutual consent, place
the power to enforce its enactments, will consist of
the supreme judges delegated by each State. It may
at once be questioned whether these international
delegates are to be appointed for life or for a definite
term ; by whom they are to be appointed ; and in
what proportion they are to represent the several
states.

1 . As to the duration of their office, it appears to The
me advisable that the first appointment be made for *ffi™ °f
a definite period ; but that after this test they the inter-
should receive the security of tenure and the conse- fudges,
quent status, prestige, and independence which accom-
pany a life position. Of course there would be
definite grounds, of incompetence or dishonesty,
on which they could be removed from office.

158 THE CURE OF THE DISEASE OF WAR

The 2. It might prove most practical that the first

Bppofat- appointment, as a privilege and a grave responsi-
ment. bility, be vested in the head of each State, and that
it should clearly be understood that, by personal
capacity, by training, and by achievement, by pro-
minence in the State, and by integrity of character,
the appointee be the highest representative whom
each head of State can select for such an office. In
any case, it would always be desirable that he should
not be tainted from the outset by party politics and
be merely the representative of the Government which
happens at the time to be in power in each State. In
fact, one supreme qualification should be that the
administration of justice in its highest conception
should be the ruling function of one thus chosen to
represent each nation on this highest tribunal, and
that he distinctly does not hold the mandate to act
as counsel for each separate State in asserting and
pushing the interests of that State irrespective of
general justice. It therefore becomes desirable that
the body of these international judges itself should,
as a body, have some power in the selection of the
individual judge. Though it would not be practical
to put into their hands the initial selection in each
country, there ought to be given to the body as a
whole the power to determine whether the appointee
is persona grata or not, a practice such as is now
followed as regards acceptance of a foreign diplo-
matic representative by a State. Whatever method
of appointment in each country, and the admission
into the body as a whole, may be adopted at all
times the fact ought to be impressed that the national
representative on this body is to be truly represen-
tative of the highest character and standing in the
eyes of the nation from which he comes, and of the
world at large.

3. It would, furthermore, have to be decided in

INTERNATIONAL LAW BACKED BY POWER 159

what proportion the several States are to be repre- Propor-
sented. Great care will have to be taken — especially rep^e-
in the light of our most recent experiences — that the sentation
smaller States be duly represented and their interests the°ng
be not entirely submerged beneath those of the greater several
States and Empires. Still, unless good reasons can
be urged to the contrary, it would probably be most
practical and just that the representatives be chosen
in proportion to the number of inhabitants of each
country. For, after all, in the ultimate conception
of such an International Court it would be humanity
at large which is represented, and each man in every
one of the several States could thus claim a share
of representation.

In the suggestion which I published some years The local
ago for such an international organisation, and which ^q^1^"
I have reproduced above, I enumerated for the local the inter-
habitation of this International Court several islands, ^ourt!*1
Of course it is desirable that topographically the
neutrality and international character of such a
habitation and centre of jurisdiction and power
should be duly regarded and accentuated. From
this point of view it would be desirable that, out of
consideration for the American Continent, this
abode should not be too near to Europe, or so near
that it, as it were, forms a dependency of any one
State or group of States. Still, considering how the
facilities of intercommunication constantly are increas-
ing, and the fact that the sea no longer separates but
even unites, this consideration need not weigh too
heavily. Moreover, other attributes may be of still
greater importance. These are the suitability of
any one site to respond to the full and varied life in
every aspect of its expression, and the dignity and
importance and general amenities of life to which it
ought to attain. To this must be added the strategic
efficiency of such a centre for purposes of defensive
12

160 THE CURE OF THE DISEASE OF WAR

and offensive power to carry out the enactments of
the Court. There would, of course, be subsidiary
military and naval stations distributed all over the
globe and under the immediate control of the Central
Tribunal, so that, in every part of the world, the
decision could without loss of time be effectively
enforced. It might not be necessary even to choose
an island, though large and well fortified harbours
for the fleet would be an indispensable condition in
the choice. Among the islands, however, it might be
suggested that, unless for the reason stated above,
the United States might object, one of the larger
Channel Islands or the whole group of them might
prove most appropriate. To recommend them still
further ; the admirable temperate climate and the
natural beauties which they enjoy would be a great
recommendation in their favour,
interna- Of supreme importance for the main purposes of
Army and such an International Court would be the Army and
Navy. Navy, always at the beck and call of this Court, and
ever ready to coerce or to strike in support of the
maintenance of International Law. Such an Army
and such a Navy, international in character, to which
each State would contribute pro rata, would, of course,
have to be far stronger than any one of the armies
which by mutual consent each State would be autho-
rised to maintain within its own borders. Indeed
it should be even stronger than any combina-
tion of several of these States. It would, of course,
include military and naval air-craft and would con-
stantly be kept in the highest state of efficiency. At
any moment this great power could be hurled at any
delinquent State to crush the culprit. Even if it were
conceivable that the recalcitrant State or States should
muster their forces in opposition to its authority, it
is hardly conceivable that, with the co-operation of
all the States siding with this central authority, any

OPPOSITION TO THE COURT UNLIKELY 161

one State or group of States could long hold out.
But, as a matter of fact, when once duly and actually
established and when continuous practice and autho-
rity had in the course of years impressed this authority
upon all civilised nations so that its existence and
traditions formed part of the consciousness of all the
peoples throughout the civilised world, opposition
to such a Court would be even much more unlikely
than an occasional revolt of individuals or bodies
against the police or law within a well-regulated
State. As I have urged before, one of the strongest
arguments in favour of such an international Organ-
isation, which will and must carry weight with every
nation throughout the civilised world, is not based
upon abstract justice or reason and the revolt
against the senseless slaughter of human beings
(which all right-minded people are now feeling), but
upon concrete facts and economic necessity. Thus
armaments, as they now exist and which have been
supposed to be the means of keeping the peace and
the only means of avoiding the lawlessness of man
left to his fighting instincts, are sapping the re-
sources of every State and casting unbearable bur-
dens upon the labourers and producers of national
wealth. The cost to each individual nation for
its contribution to these international armaments
will be infinitesimal compared with that now weigh-
ing upon each separate State, and could be easily
borne by each one of them. It is nothing more
than the simple application of co-operation and eco-
nomy of power which has been ruling and is ruling
the development of modern commerce and industry.

I may leave it to the imagination of every reader Further
to build up for himself the wonderful display of®?^^
civilised life which such an international centre will life and
create for the world, such as in a few words I haveof°aif *
endeavoured slightly to indicate in the passage nation^

162 THE CURE OF THE DISEASE OF WAR

quoted above. The beneficent activity of such an
international centre in directions other than those of
immediate legislation and of the protection of inter-
national right and law will readily be realised. The
genius of ancient Athens, though no doubt primarily
Greek (and this ancient Greece of those days already
includes the conflux of many different civilisations),
in the hey-day of Athenian culture, was to a great
extent due to the fact that the various people —
workmen, artisans, artists, philosophers — flocked
thither from Asia Minor and other parts of the ancient
world, and contributed their share of new creative
impulse and of vigorous co-operation in the cause of
art and culture to the making of the Periclean Age.
The common habitation would lead to the facile
intercourse of representatives from every nationality ;
the consequent attraction of visitors from all parts of
the world, who would feel that this was no strange
country, but that they shared in its common life,
would not only counteract narrowness and provin-
cialism of feeling and thought, but would actively
stimulate a widening and intensified advance in the
direction of human sympathy, culture, and brother-
hood. It would become, and rightly, the supreme
home and centre for all intellectual life, as there
would be created here a clearing-house for all higher
endeavour, centred in vast buildings and institutions
representing the best and the most beautiful that
modern civilisation can produce. The final and less
immediate outcome of the activities emanating in
every direction of human life from this common
centre is so stupendous and far-reaching, that the
imagination staggers in the beatitude of vision rising
before our eyes. And it is not only in the great and
manifest actions of international and common life,
but even in every one of the smallest byways of human
activities and human interests that these influences

THE LANGUAGE DIFFICULTY 163

would actually and practically be operative, not
merely in the world of dreams.

I fully realise that there is one great stumbling- The lan-
block to this advance in civilisation and the substanti- difficulty.
ation of such unity of international effort and power. The
This is to be found in the question of language. It is Babel,
typified by the Tower of Babel . The ancient Hebrews
were led by a correct instinct when they attempted
to erect such a tower. But we all know that they
failed in this endeavour. Languages will always
unite or separate, and difference of language may
prevent complete understanding between the peoples.
In so far it will prevent complete international
understanding and international fusion. On the
other hand, as I insisted upon the desirability of
developing and maintaining individuality throughout
the nations — which of itself would in no way suffer
from wider federation — so I do not think that it
would in any way be desirable to check the expres-
tion of national individuality by obliterating national
language. Still less could it be ever contemplated
to deprive ourselves of the treasures of human
thought and art which have taken actual form in the
national literature of each people. But we cannot
doubt that the need of one common language for all
civilised peoples remains. Even the Hague Conven-
tion has been enabled to do its work in spite of the
great divergence in the languages of its representa-
tives. More and more as time goes on, and the more
real the need and the feeling for a great international
confederation becomes, until finally we attain to its
realisation in such an International Court endowed
with the power to coerce all nations into confor-
mity with its supreme decrees, the necessity for one
common language, co-existing with all other national
languages, will make itself felt. Whether this will
lead to the establishment of such a language as

164 THE CURE OF THE DISEASE OF WAR

Volapuk or Esperanto, whether it will be naturally
developed by the action of physical and mental
conditions within the civilised world by a slow
process of evolution, or whether any one existing
modern language will, for one reason or the other,
assert its predominance and become established as
this language of international intercourse, the fact
of its undeniable need will make itself felt more and
more as time goes on. The French language has for
a long time been adopted as the language of dip-
lomacy ; but there exists considerable opposition to
its universal use.

The Middle Ages, or rather the beginnings of the
Renaissance, prove the value and the efficiency of
such a dominating language. In this case it was the
property of the lettered or learned, or of the superior
classes, beginning with the clerks who held in their
hands the all-powerful factor in life, namely, the
education of the young. Moreover, they had, as a
substratum of such international unity, the organisa-
tion of the Catholic Church spread over the whole
civilised world. Beginning with the Church and its
priests, however, the knowledge of this common
language extended to a considerable degree among
the ruling classes. The result was — to take but one
type of most definite and direct influence on the
national mind throughout the whole world by one
man or a group of men, the bearers of great thought
— the result was, that Erasmus could travel, converse,
and lecture throughout the whole of Europe, occupy a
chair in the University of Cambridge, influence the
leaders of thought, at one with him in his great
endeavour of world reform (not only, or chiefly,
reform of sectarian religion), in his native Holland,
in Germany, in Switzerland, and in Italy, directly
affecting by his thought and his teaching people of
every class in all these countries, and finally fixing

REVIVAL OF LATIN 165

and perpetuating this influence in laying down in
his books what he had to say in a language intelligible
to the readers of all nations. He and the Oxford
reformers realised this international power and
cherished international aims not very distant from
those which we cherish at this moment. He and
his fellow-militants also realised fully the power for
good which was vested in a Church that was catholic —
i.e. universal, international, human. But his chief
object was to use it for the humanising of humanity,
not the vicious confirmation of separatism, whether
nationalistic or sectarian, in religion. The supreme
aim of these great men was to humanise and to educate
the clerks who were the teachers of the rising genera-
tions and, through them, ultimately to raise mankind.
So clear and strong was the faith of these men in this
final mission, that More really sacrificed his life,
because he was opposed to nationalism, to Chauvinism
which threatened to rob humanism of its catholic
and universal effectiveness, to dehumanise the spirit
of refining love in mankind, and to give full sway to
the spread of national and local hatred, ending, as
it did, in endless wars throughout the world.

Erasmus and his followers possessed the one great
asset of a common international language, which,
though it was not destined to help them directly and
completely to realise their great and beneficent aims,
did undoubtedly contribute to what may perhaps be
the greatest advance in civilisation which the world
has yet seen since the days of ancient Hellas.

Is it quite impracticable and utterly unrealisable
to restore the Latin language to life, and, after
spreading it throughout the whole world in the educa-
tion of the young, to leave it in the course of actual
evolution to widen out and modify itself in this
process of life, so that it should adapt itself to all
the needs of modern intercourse and thus contribute

166 THE CURE OF THE DISEASE OF WAR

a most powerful element to the realisation of our
final ideals ?

It cannot be a disadvantage that Latin was the
disseminator of great ideas throughout the Middle
Ages, and the vehicle of expression of the whole of
the Christian civilisation ; that it was the linguistic
expression of the widest diffusion of civilisation
through the greatest organised instrument of civil-
isation, namely, the Roman Empire. Nor can it
even be a disadvantage that it should, to a certain
degree, contain and reflect in itself — sometimes only
the shadow instead of the reality — the highest spirit
of Hellenism. Personally, I confess that I should
have preferred Greek to Latin, because I deem those
elements of higher culture embodied in the term
Hellenism more important for humanity than are
to be found in any other language. But a moment's
thought will tell us that practically this would be
impossible. The mere fact of such a difference of
alphabet between Greek and Latin would be of the
greatest practical effect as regards the comparative
facilities of introducing either. But the Latin
alphabet and the Latinscript have penetrated through-
out the whole of the civilised world and must be
acquired by every school-boy and school-girl to what-
ever nation they may belong. It was not merely
pedantry or theatrical romanticism which led Bis-
marck to attempt to drive out the Latin alphabet
from writing and printing — as far as he was able to
do so — in Germany, and to restore Gothic characters.
It was not merely meant to be an aid internally to
consolidate Germanenthum : but it was already a
direct anticipation of the dreams of the present
Alldeutsche party, to force Pan-Germanism upon the
whole civilised world ; first, by blood and iron ;
then by gold and commercial concessions and pro-
motions ; and finally by the forcible supremacy of

THE LATIN LANGUAGE 167

the German Kultur, which even a Nietzsche con-
sidered inferior to that of the Latin races. In spite
of his efforts, no German who can read and write is
unacquainted with Latin script. Surely we need not
construct a modern language in our study when for
countless ages and in the present day the ancient
Latin language, never for one moment dead in
European history, is still with us, and, though asleep,
still lives, and can readily be aroused from its slum-
bers and assist in the great and peaceful battle
which will lead to the final victory of civilised
humanity.

PART II

THE INADEQUACY OF MODERN MORALS .
NIETZSCHE

CHAPTER I

THE NEGATIVE CHARACTER OF SOCIAL REFORMERS —
THE MONSTROSITY OF NIETZSCHE'S SUPERMAN

All that I have written hitherto to define the con-
ditions now prevailing in civilised life which have
led to this disastrous war has confirmed what I have
said at the beginning in the Introduction (p. 4) :
that we have to go deeper down to find the essential
and underlying causes. For the one great fact must
have impressed itself through all the phases and
aspects of the inquiry as we have hitherto pursued
it — namely, that there is a hiatus, if not a direct
contradiction, between our faith and professions
and our actions, which did not exist in former ages
to the same degree ; that civilised humanity is at sea
regarding its most important ideas and ideals ; and
that we are no longer possessed of efficient Faith,
the Faith which inspired the Crusaders in the past,
or the Mahdists in modern times. Yet, we all of us,
the representatives of Western civilisation, manifest
this conflict and contradiction between our ultimate
beliefs and our direct course of action. Nor is the
fault merely or mainly to be sought for in our actions
and in our inability to live up to principles on the
part of the best and the most thoughtful among us ;

168

NEGATIVE CHARACTER OF MORAL REFORMS 169

but it lies chiefly in the fact that our ideals are no
longer believed in, that they are not our actual ideals.

When we consider the writings or the intellectual
achievements of philosophers, social reformers, and
artists, who have either had the greatest influence
in the fashioning of the intellectual temper of our age,
or are at least most indicative of its peculiar trend,
we find that their main strength and their main
influence lie in a negative direction, namely, in the
revolt against the dominance of our rules, canons,
and philosophies of life, which no longer fit the needs
of the modern world and no longer respond to our
actual convictions of what is truest and best.

There can be no doubt that the social reformers,
the great writers and thinkers on philosophy, politics,
and social questions in the second half of the nine-
teenth century down to our own days, have in the
main not been constructive, but critical and negative.
The nineteenth century and our own days will be
noted in history, not so much for their positive achieve-
ment in world-reform, not for the solution of ques-
tions and problems, as for the putting and formula-
tion of these questions and problems.1 It corre-
sponds very much in this respect to the eighteenth
century in France and elsewhere, in which the " Ency-
clopaedists," political philosophers and educational
reformers of the type of Rousseau formulated the
main questions by means of their criticism of the
ancien regime, the positive answers themselves being
given by the French and American Revolutions at
the end of that century.

This criticism of the fundamental standards and
ideals governing modern life, culminating in the
definite putting of the question to which the future
is to give an adequate reply, does not only concern
the economic aspect of modern life, the distribution

1 See Appendix III.

170 NEGATIVE CHARACTER OF SOCIAL REFORMERS

of wealth, and the freedom of asserting the right to
physical existence on the part of individuals ; it is
not only represented by the writings and the direct
influence of Lassalle and Karl Marx and of the theorists
and publicists of modern economical schools forming
the theoretical basis for socialist and even anarchist
agitation ; it is not only manifested in the powerful
impeachment of commercialism and capitalism which
tyrannise over the inner economic life of each nation
and community and which extend their dominating
influence over all international relations ; but it
clearly shows itself in the main character and direc-
tion of thought in the writers and historians on
philosophy, on ethics, individual and social, in the
direct preachings of historians and social reformers
— nay, even in the spirit of the work of great artists
and in the theories of writers on art.

The one point which all these leaders and fashioners
of modern thought have in common, however diver-
gent their positive and more definite views may be,
is a protest against the existing order of things, the
more or less conscious feeling and conviction that the
fundamental and guiding principles of our life are
not truly expressive of the needs of modern man,
of the best that he can feel and think and do.
They thus vary in the directness and truthfulness,
and even the bluntness, with which they attack the
traditions and conventions which the modern world
retains and accepts from the past and to which, in
conformity with the laws of a well-regulated society,
moral, or at least decent and respectable, members
bow in slavish obedience. From August Comte
(who boldly ventures far beyond into the construc-
tive realm of a positive philosophy which endeavours
to supply a system to replace what his criticism
destroys), through Schopenhauer and von Hartmann
to Wagner, Ibsen, and Nietzsche, and to Tolstoy

NINETEENTH-CENTURY REFORMERS 171

(who is the antithesis to Nietzsche), and also to
Maeterlinck, we have the same protest as regards the
recognition of the inadequacy of our ideals, our faith
and religion as bearing upon the social ethics of the
modern civilised world. These writers and artists
differ only as regards the characteristic and personal
divergence in the intensity with which they oppose
the existing order of things according to the intellec-
tual atmosphere of their professed style of work or
the artistic temperament of their personalities. In
a more attenuated, though none the less powerful
and effective, form, the same spirit and ethos are
manifested in England in the writings of Herbert
Spencer and Mill, of Carlyle, Ruskin and Morris,
of George Eliot and even of Matthew Arnold ;
while the stupendous achievements in the natural
sciences, notably in the establishment of the Dar-
winian theory, immediately incited their application
to moral and social problems by such brilliant ex-
ponents as Huxley and W. K. Clifford, finding a
powerful echo in Germany in the writings of Haeckel.
At the same time, the continuous attacks of the
numerous writers directly opposing religious ortho-
doxy throughout the last century, beginning with
Strauss and Renan, received the most powerful,
though involuntary, support from the growth of
scholarly historical criticism, sharpened and strength-
ened by all the methods of modern scientific inquiry,
within the theological camp itself — nay, within the
very strongholds of sects and churches ; until we find
that the Roman Catholic Church itself is aroused to
the full exertion of all its energy and power to quell
the modernist movement within its own body. What-
ever divergence may exist among these great men,
their mentalities and their writings, the main fact
stands out clearly and irrefutably : that the existing
order of things is recognised as inadequate and must

172 NEGATIVE CHARACTER OF SOCIAL REFORMERS

be reformed and adapted to the new order of the
world. Where these pioneers or iconoclasts differ is in
the degree in which they consciously manifest this
opposition and in the boldness of their attack upon
the traditions hitherto recognised as indispensable to
the maintenance of civilised society and morality.
The attention which they arouse and the effect which
they produce are, from the nature of great movements
in man's history (alas that it should be so !) dependent
upon the boldness — nay, the exaggeration — with
which they thus attack the common traditions in
which man lives at the time. Luther will always
have a more immediate and powerful influence than
Erasmus, though the confirmed optimist may console
himself with the fact that ultimately — though after a
long time — Erasmus will prevail ; and though it may
even be shown that Luther's influence would not
have been what it was, unless he had absorbed some
of the best that was in Erasmus. Thus it is that of
all these writers and thinkers three may for the time
being have had the greatest influence, at all events
in Germany, namely, Ibsen the Dane, Wagner, and
Nietzsche ; while Schopenhauer and von Hartmann
are their immediate precursors.
Ibsen Though Ibsen is concerned with many other aspects

Wagner °^ modern life, in which he wishes to substitute
for dead and utterly inadequate traditions, the
living and hopeful freedom of man's natural instincts
and justified desires to self-realisation, it is chiefly
concerning the relation between the sexes that his
dramatic writings have exerted the greatest influence
upon modern society. The same applies to Wagner.
Both, either by the ruthlessness of their attacks or
by the penetrating forcefulness of their artistic forms,
succeeded in arresting the attention of the thinking
world, nay, far beyond this world, the large mass of
unthinking, but strongly feeling, men and women.

WAGNER 173

Still, it was chiefly in this particular aspect of modern
life that their criticism of existing standards was
most effective. Wagner no doubt began his attack
on the sterile formalities of our past inheritance in his
own narrower and immediate domain of art when,
as a most perfect typical rendering of his own artistic
struggle, he produced the immortal creation of Die
Meistersinger in which his new art comes to a glorious
birth in breaking through the fetters of a conventional-
ised and respectable bourgeois art that blocked the
way. No doubt also in the Ring of the Nibelungen
Siegfried stands as the embodiment of vigorous,
untrammelled power of human life and courage,
filled with truth as with energy, whom, like a new
Prometheus, the powers of the effete gods could
no longer withstand. It appears to me to be
beyond all doubt that, however independent may be
the creative genius of Nietzsche, it is from Siegfried
that he derived the inspiration for his Superman.
And we can well understand how he should have
turned against his great artistic inspirer when the
latter produced his Parzifal. For Parzifal is a cor-
rective afterthought, in which the rule of nature and
of pure force in man is supplemented by charity,
by the spirit of altruism, so hateful to Nietzsche, by
the spirit of service to our fellow-men and to mankind
at large, the core and centre of Christian faith.
Though artistically the theoretical embodiment of
such an idea in a dramatic and musical form is a
failure, and marks in so far a downward step in
the artistic achievement of Wagner, despite great
individual beauties of some of the music, there can
be no doubt that it is thus meant to be a supple-
ment and corrective to his world philosophy. Still,
except through the direct or indirect influence
upon Nietzsche, Wagner's effect upon the world at
large as a social reformer was, like that of Ibsen,

174 MONSTROSITY OF NIETZSCHE'S SUPERMAN

mainly concerned with the relation between man and
woman, and finds its highest expression, both philo-
sophically and artistically, in Tristan and Isolde.
Nietx- But in Nietzsche we have the complete, fearless,

The ob- an<^ l°gical construction of this general revolt against
trusion of the whole fabric of the religious, moral, and social
person^ traditions ruling the modern world. It is put, more-
aiity- over, in a form made lyrically dramatic in his own
personality which is essentially obtruded into every
phase of his theoretical exposition, professedly
philosophical. His writings primarily belong to the
domain of art, to almost the same degree as do the
works of Wagner ; and, if he live at all in the future,
it will chiefly be as a prose poet, such as, in a vastly
different character and atmosphere, Ruskin will live
among the English-reading public.
His His personality, probably in real life, and un-

doubtedly in the lyric and dramatic form in which it
manifests itself in the enunciation of his philosophic
views, is, above all, filled with the desire for absolute
truthfulness and fearlessness in the enunciation of
truth. His aim is, above all, to assert independence
and absolute freedom from prejudice, which he finds
prevailing and dominating the respectable world in
which he lives. This truthfulness of diction takes
the form of bravado, by insistence upon his fear-
lessness, in flying in the face of established conven-
tions, in shocking the sensibilities of his audience ; and
he wishes to assert this fearlessness, not only to his
hearers, but also to himself. He is thus constantly
spurring himself on and insisting on the correctness of
his views and aims ; not perhaps consciously, to
attract the attention of his astonished readers, but
to keep up his faith in his own cause and to keep out
the enemy of compromise and conformity, or of con-
sideration for the feelings of others. He thus tells
himself, as well as the world, how right he is and

truthful-
ness,

NIETZSCHE'S EGOISM 175

constantly affirms it. The difference in this respect
between him and other writers is that most authors
assume that they must be right or else they would
not write at all. Others proceed impersonally to give
their own convictions to the world. But Nietzsche
must be personal above all things, and must give
consistency and artistic unity to his ideas (though he
constantly and glaringly fails in this from the very
obtrusion of his fickle and nervous personality), by
pushing his ego into the foreground of artistic com-
position and making it the bearer of uncompro-
mising truthfulness in face of the dominant prejudice
and conventions of the world. It therefore becomes,
not an eccentric whim or trick, but an organic element
in the artistic composition and exposition of his work,
that he should boldly assert and constantly repeat
the fact, that he is " so wise," " so skilful," " that
he writes such excellent books," and, in short, is
" a Fatality." Still, his assertions and statements,
always to be understood as the direct emanations
from his own individuality, are subject to the
variations and moods of a personality, especially
of one so highly nervous and imaginative ; and
his most emphatic statements are therefore not
necessarily the truest, either to himself or to his
doctrine.

In fact, his constant opposition to idealism and his in spite
hatred of it clash with the central idea of his whole of hls.

opposi-
human doctrine as embodied in the Superman. For tion to

his Superman is distinctly and directly the outcome jjjjj!?"

of idealism ; though it be the one-sided idealism of a idealist.

narrow and distorted kind, in which the process of

isolation of phenomena, when applied to the organic

world or to human nature, deprives man of his very

organic quality in omitting or ignoring some of his

essential attributes.

He may tell us distinctly and emphatically that

13

176 MONSTROSITY OF NIETZSCHE'S SUPERMAN

" idealism is foreign to me " J ; he may again and
again inveigh against idealism as the arch enemy ;
but he still remains a pure idealist. Yet his is the
Nietz- idealisation of physiological man, not moral and
Super- intellectual man — the ideal of the strong man devoid
man is of all feeling for his fellow-men, as well as chivalry
ideaiisa- towards his equals and his weaker brethren. This
tion of absolutely one-sided conception of the human being,
sioiogical and the consistent idealisation of this one side only
to the ex- m human nature and in human life, lead to the gro-

clusion of . ' °

the moral tesque caricature of the organic nature of human
social n^e' kv depriving it of its essential and leading char-
acteristics which differentiate man from animal. It
is a misapplication and a misconception of Darwinian
principles of evolution, or it is an anticipation (for, in
his case, it would have been such) of the modern
principles of eugenics, in which only physical and
physiological conditions are contemplated in the
improvement of the individual man and of the human
race. The Superman is thus an idealisation of man ;
but the fundamental mistake is that it idealises only
the forceful and physical side, and omits in his
mental and moral constitution those essential elements
of love and spirituality, of social and intellectual
altruism, which are the crowning results in man's evo-
lution, leading to the advancement of the human race,
society, and mankind as a whole towards the realisa-
tion of most perfect manhood, the true Superman.
Limita- There is always this danger in forecasting the future
his ideal- °f man and in directing the improvement of the race
ism in by the application of exact science : that the more

•onstruct- , , . , , r

ingthe complex the constituents in the study of nature are
m" nCr (when once we enter the organic sphere or rise still
higher into that of sentience, will, intelligence,
morality, and idealism), these more complex and
none the less essential attributes cannot receive their

1 Ecce Homo, p 82.

man.

EUGENISTIC DIFFICULTIES 177

due consideration in our forecasts of the prospective
direction of present life to mould the future. It is most
difficult, in fact practically impossible, to determine the
' ' ideal ' ' of each species in the animal world . But even
when we come to comparatively so simple a phase
of eugenistic activity as the breeding of animals,
whose sphere of utility and admitted purpose — that
what Aristotle would have called their ivrekixeia —
are clearly manifest and clearly admitted, we may
fail, as breeders are constantly failing, in our con-
clusions and purpose, because we do not consider
the more elusive and uncontrollable " moral factors."
The horse, the dog and similar animals are intelli-
gently bred for purposes of strength, or fleetness,
or appearance (itself essentially modified by these
primary considerations). But, as the horse is to be
used by us to draw vehicles, to be an agreeable and
safe mount as a hack, or a skilful, intrepid, and
equally docile hunter, or even as a draught horse to
be readily guided and turned by his attendant for
a variety of uses, the temper and " moral nature "
which are conditions of such docility and use, are
of supreme importance in its ultimate purpose and
in the ideal of its existence. And yet how many
breeders ever consider the question of producing the
desirable " character " in the breeding of horses ?
They may go so far as occasionally to exclude the
grossly vicious horse for purposes of breeding, as the
useless and even destructive criminal in " equine
society." Yet, when does it occur to the breeder
seriously and practically to contemplate and consider
the question of temperament and the mixing of
temperaments — of courage with docility, of rapid
intelligence with steadiness of control — to produce
and improve the race of animals, the destination of
which, the ideal purpose of whose existence, is so
clearly defined by human use and so simple and

178 MONSTROSITY OF NIETZSCHE'S SUPERMAN

recognisable in the limited number of such uses ?
When, however, we come to the human being — to
civilised man living amid all the varied and complex
conditions of modern life, of vast societies and
nations, and of the recognisable future of humanity —
to eliminate from the ideal type of man the moral
and social elements which are to guide and direct
his instincts and passions and health — what we call
morality and idealism — implies a farcically inadequate
conception of a human being as such.

Still, Nietzsche in this dithyrambic and rhapsodical,
this lyrical and dramatic exaggeration of his bold and
wide philosophic, or — as he would call it — " psycho-
logical " generalisation, escapes this manifest con-
demnation of elementary nonsense when we remember
that the main purpose and motive, if not justification,
of his whole theory of life is to be found in his bold
and uncompromising protest against the inadequacy
of contemporary moral standards. As an instance of
intellectual courage in his own personality (the
dramatic centre of all his writings) he puts this protest
in the clearest and most emphatic form 1 :

" My life-task is to prepare for humanity one
supreme moment in which it can come to its senses,
a Great Noon in which it will turn its gaze backwards
and forwards, in which it will step from under the
yoke of accident and of priests, and for the first time
set the question of the Why and Wherefore of
humanity as a whole — this life-task naturally follows
out of the conviction that mankind does not get on
the right road of its own accord, that it is by no
means divinely ruled, but rather that it is precisely
under the cover of its most holy valuations that the
instinct of negation, of corruption, and of degenera-
tion has held such a seductive sway. The question
concerning the origin of moral valuations is therefore

1 Ecce Homo, p. 93. Translated by A. M. Ludovici and edited by
Dr. Oscar Levy.

PROTEST AGAINST CHRISTIAN MORALITY 179

a matter of the highest importance to me because it
determines the future of mankind. The demand
made upon us to believe that everything is really in
the best hands, that a certain book, the Bible, gives
us the definite and comforting assurance that there
is a Providence that wisely rules the fate of man, —
when translated back into reality amounts simply to
this, namely, the will to stifle the truth which main-
tains the reverse of all this, which is that hitherto
man has been in the worst possible hands, and that
he has been governed by the physiologically botched,
the men of cunning and burning revengefulness, and
the so-called ' saints ' — those slanderers of the world
and traducers of humanity. The definite proof of
the fact that the priest (including the priest in disguise,
the philosopher) has become master, not only within a
certain limited religious community, but everywhere,
and that the morality of decadence, the will to nonen-
tity, has become morality per se, is to be found in this :
that altruism is now an absolute value, and egoism
is regarded with hostility everywhere. He who
disagrees with me on this point, I regard as infected.
But all the world disagrees with me. To a physiolo-
gist a like antagonism between values admits of
no doubt. If the most insignificant organ within
the body neglects, however slightly, to assert with
absolute certainty its self-preservative powers, its
recuperative claims, and its egoism, the whole system
degenerates. The physiologist insists upon the
removal of degenerated parts, he denies all fellow-
feeling for such parts, and has not the smallest
feeling of pity for them. But the desire of the priest
is precisely the degeneration of the whole of mankind ;
hence his preservation of that which is degenerate —
this is what his dominion costs humanity. What
meaning have those lying concepts, those handmaids
of morality, ' Soul,' ' Spirit,' ' Free will,' ' God,'
if their aim is not the physiological ruin of mankind ?
When earnestness is diverted from the instincts that
aim at self-preservation and an increase of bodily
energy, i.e. at an increase of life ; when anaemia is
raised to an ideal and the contempt of the body is

i8o MONSTROSITY OF NIETZSCHE'S SUPERMAN

construed as ' the salvation of the soul,' what is all
this if it is not a recipe for decadence ? Loss of
ballast, resistance offered to natural instincts, selfless-
ness, in fact — this is what has hitherto been known as
morality. With the The Dawn of Day I first engaged
in a struggle against the morality of self-renunciation."

We can well understand how, with this spirit of
antagonism to the moral laws and ideals that now
govern civilised society, his Superman should have
taken this one-sided and caricatured form. If Nietz-
sche were now alive and would allow me to use
the German vernacular of which he is such a master
I am sure he would admit a gentle modification of his
views on the ideal man of the future. The terms of
which I would remind him in his own language would
be understood by good Germans, of whom there
must be many, who will condemn this war when once
they have realised how it was begun, the forty years
of systematic brutal and immoral, nay, perfidious,
preparation for it by the leaders of their own people.
When the materials for judging are no longer with-
held from them, they will be able to recognise
the rights and wrongs of its immediate beginnings,
the fact that the much-hated England was free from
all responsibility for it (though the German officers
for years asserted premeditated animosity against us),
when they have realised the monstrous injustice
towards Belgium and the inhuman pillages perpe-
trated by their arms during this war upon defence-
less people : all these will understand, what Nietzsche
the man, I am sure, understood and felt, when I
appeal for the making of the ideal future man to
Menschenliebe (love of mankind) ; that their hearts
will thrill in response at the simple phrases : ein guter
Mensch, ein gutherziger Mensch (a good man, a kind-
hearted man) ; and their best taste will appreciate
the supreme value of ein feiner Mensch, ein fein-

HIS INFLUENCE IN GERMANY 181

fiihlender Mensch (a man of refined feelings). For all
these terms there is no room in the composition of
Nietzsche's Superman ; though I strongly suspect
that Nietzsche the man and Nietzsche the gentle-
man would at once have responded to these terms,
however much he endeavoured to suppress and hide
his approval of them in theory.

It is difficult to gauge the exact extent of theNietz-
influence of Nietzsche upon the moral views and the share* in
practical conduct of the present generation of Ger- the mak-
mans. Some judges, who are in a position to know, modem
maintain that it is very great ; others that it is not, Germany.
There can be no doubt that since his death in 1889
he has been very widely read all over the world and
especially in Germany, and that to some of the
younger generation his Also sprach Zarathustra has
become almost a bible, and, that not only men, but
women as well, have been strongly affected in their
morals and their views of life, if not their conduct,
by the powerful rhetoric and the undoubted beauty
of his passionate German prose. Some may have
fondly thought that they had the elements of the
superman or superwoman in themselves, others may
have been genuinely convinced of the claims of the
superman as an ideal and may even have resolved
that they would follow the master's dictates by their
own suppression (Untergang) to further the advent
of the superman. But most of them were attracted
by the promised freedom from the moral conventions
of the society in which they lived, which pressed
heavily upon their strong, self-indulgent aspirations,
and by the convenient belief that to follow the natural
instincts and passions was of itself right. To a
stronger and deeper degree than was the case with
Ibsen's dramas and their opposition to the binding
laws of conventional morality, there can be no doubt
that the persuasive and lofty strength of Nietzsche's

182 MONSTROSITY OF NIETZSCHE'S SUPERMAN

rhetoric must have acted as a strong dissolvent to
the moral sense as we understand it and to every
sense of impersonal duty and self-restraint.
His share Still more difficult is it to determine how far
^l^us Nietzsche is responsible for the part taken by the
German people as a whole in this war and in the
frightfulness with which it is pursued. In so far as
it is a popular war, it is based upon the conviction
and the confidence of the people and their rulers of
the existence and the absolute entity and unity of
what they call their German Kultur ; and further-
more of the superiority of this Kultur over the civilisa-
tion of all other nations. From this conviction the
step is but a natural one to conclude, that not only
must it be guarded against destruction, interference,
or domination on the part of inferior civilisations —
such as that of the Slav and even of the French and
British ; but that it ought to supersede and domi-
nate— like a collective superman — the civilisation
of the rest of the world. And as physical health
is the first requirement for the production and the
dominance of the superman, so physical or military
power is the first requirement for the dominance of the
superior German Kultur. Such, for instance, was, in
a bold summary, the political philosophy of Treit-
schke and his followers.
His esti- But Nietzsche did not consider German Kultur
German superior to all others. On the contrary, he formed a
Kultur. verv iow estimate of German Kultur and the Germans,
whom he called the Kultur-Philistines. He herein
agreed with Goethe who, in his talk with Eckermann,
said : " We Germans are of yesterday. No doubt
in the last hundred years we have been cultivating
ourselves quite diligently ; but it may take a few
centuries yet before our countrymen have absorbed
sufficient intellect and higher culture for it to be
said of them that it is a long time since they were

HIS LOW ESTIMATE OF GERMAN KULTUR 183

barbarians." Nietzsche's estimate of German culture
is a very low one. He values French thought and
civilisation much more highly. As regards what I
should like to call the Art of Living he even placed
the Slav higher than the German, and was singularly
proud of being descended from the Polish gentry.
He is astonished that Schopenhauer could live in
Germany. " Wherever Germany extends she ruins
culture," he maintains. He even goes so far as to
maintain that " a German cannot know what music
is. The men who pass as German musicians are
foreigners — Slavs, Croats, Italians, Dutchmen, or
Jews." He even hinted that Richard Wagner, the
glory of German nationalism, was of Jewish descent,
since his real father seems to have been the step-
father Geyer.1 He believes only in French culture ;
all other culture is a misnomer. Of English culture
he apparently had a limited and no first-hand know-
ledge.

It would, therefore, be difficult to claim Nietzsche
in support of the German ideal causes of this great
war. All German politicians and historians he
regarded with aversion and contempt, especially the
so-called anti-Semites. " There is," he says, " such
a thing as the writing of history according to the
lights of Imperial Germany ; there is, I fear, anti-
Semitic history — there is also history written with
an eye to the court, and Herr von Treitschke is not
ashamed of himself." ■

Moreover, in contradistinction to the conception His op-
of the State as the absolute entity from which all Pq8,1.*!?11
right of individual existence is derived, which forms state."
the foundations of the theories of German historians
and the practice of German statesmen, Zarathustra
loathed the State. To him " the State is the coldest

1 See Brandes, Friedrich Nietzsche, pp. 1 14 seq.
* Ecce Homo, p. 134.

184 MONSTROSITY OF NIETZSCHE'S SUPERMAN

of all cold monsters. Its fundamental lie is that it
is the people. In the State, the slow suicide of all
is called life. The State is for the many, too many.
Only where the State leaves off does the man who is
not superfluous begin ; the man who is a bridge to
the superman." l He even inveighs against the love
of country.1 " Exiles shall ye be from the father-
lands and your forefatherlands. Not the land of
your fathers shall ye love, but your children's land."
Never- In spite of this, we must believe that those who

theiess have been indoctrinated with Nietzsche's philosophy
trines of the superman were morally well prepared to
thePGer? clamour f°r this war and to pursue it with the bar-
man barian ruthlessness which has characterised it hitherto
such a °r on tne German side. Not because, after all, he was
war and an artilleryman in the war of 1870 ; and, whether of
ruthless Slav origin or an admirer of the French or not, he
methods. was s^[\\ undeniably German in much of his men-
tality ; nor even because he extolled war as such.
In this latter respect he corresponds to his older
contemporary, the philosopher Eduard von Hart-
mann, who exercised a great influence upon the
German youth in the second half of the nineteenth
century, and who may to some extent have influenced
Nietzsche as well. I cannot do better than quote
George Brandes' luminous exposition of the teachings
of both these German philosophers :

" Eduard von Hartmann believes in a beginning
and end of the ' world process.' He concludes that
no eternity can lie behind us ; otherwise everything
possible must already have happened, which — accord-
ing to his contention — is not the case. In sharp
contrast to him, on this point as on others, Zarathustra
teaches, with, be it said, a somewhat shallow mysti-
cism— which is derived from the ancient Pythago-
reans' idea of the circular course of history and

1 Brandes, op. cit., pp. 45 seq. * Op. cit., p. 47.

HIS RESPONSIBILITY FOR THE WAR 185

is influenced by Cohelet's Hebrew philosophy of
life — the eternal recurrence ; that is to say, that all
things eternally return and we ourselves with them,
that we have already existed an infinite number of
times, and all things with us. The great clock of the
universe is to him an hour-glass, which is constantly
turned and runs out again and again. This is the
direct antithesis of Hartmann's doctrine of universal
destruction, and curiously enough it was put forward
at about the same time by two French thinkers :
by Blanqui in L'Eternite par les Astres (1871), and by
Gustave Le Bon in L1 Homme et les Societes (1881). —
Friedrich Nietzsche, p. 48.

The real influence of Nietzsche in producing the Nietz-
Germany of to-day, which is responsible for this war, reaf share
is not so direct as regards the national attitude in th.is

• W£LI" is tllC

towards war, but is none the less effective in producing creation
in those who have come under his influence a moral oi imr .

. . . , . ... . . . moral and

which would account for its inception and the inhuman
methods of its prosecution. On the negative side all Jutland
idea of self-restraint, of the suppression of those ideals,
instincts and passions which necessarily encourage
envy and rapine, all consideration of the rights, the
interests, or the feelings of one's neighbour, all love
and pity for man — all these hitherto accepted guides
to conduct, are entirely suppressed.1

1 " Spare not thy neighbour ! My great love for the remotest ones
commands it. Thy neighbour is something that must be surpassed.

" Say not : I will do unto others as I would they should do unto
me. What thou doest, that can no man do to thee again. There is
no requital.

" Do not believe that thou mayst not rob. A right which thou
canst seize upon, shalt thou never allow to be given thee.

" Beware of good men. They never speak the truth. For all that
they call evil — the daring venture, the prolonged distrust, the cruel,
nay, the deep disgust with men, the will and the power to cut into the
quick — all this must be present where a truth is to be born." See
Brandes' Friedrich Nietzsche, p. 46.

" Zarathustra is without mercy. It has been said : Push not a
leaning waggon. But Zarathustra says : That which is ready to
fall, shall ye also push. All that belongs to our day is falling and

186 MONSTROSITY OF NIETZSCHE'S SUPERMAN

The Win On the positive side, however, the Will to Power
P°ower is the supreme moral aim, as the desire for health and
strength, for physiological life, are the supreme
physical goal. Between the ideal of the superman
and its uncompromising, colossal individualism, and
those of the socialists, who consciously and definitely
extol the supremacy of the proletariat as such,
German national morals have contended with narrow
Chauvinistic militant religious sects, unchristian in
their fundamental spirit. Whenever these social
forces divided among themselves the moral dominion
of the people, the German ship of state would be
cast from side to side in its course, rudderless, to the
destruction of itself and of the civilised world.
Nietzsche's Individualism on the one side, and un-
compromising Socialism on the other, united in the
Chauvinistic spirit ; both claim, and aim at, Power,
and desire to wage relentless war against all opponents
who stand in their way ; Power is the immediate and
supreme end of their aspirations. Of course between
these two extremes lie, not the unthinking, low-
minded, selfish, bourgeois Philistien without ideals ;
but the many clear-headed, warm-hearted, and cul-
tured Germans who have hitherto evoked the
respect, the admiration, and even the affection, of
the civilised world. These have not produced this
war, excepting in so far as they have been completely
misled by the suppression of truth and positive and

decaying. No one can preserve it, but Zarathustra will even help it
to fall faster.

" Zarathustra loves the brave. But not the bravery that takes up
every challenge. There is often more bravery in holding back and
passing by and reserving one's self for a worthier foe. Zarathustra
does not teach : Ye shall love your enemies, but : Ye shall not engage
in combat with enemies ye despise.

" Why so hard ? men cry to Zarathustra. He replies : Why so
hard ? once said the charcoal to the diamond ; are we not near of kin ?
The creators are hard. Their blessedness it is to press their hand
upon future centuries as upon wax." — Friedrich Nietzsche, p. 47.

THE WILL TO POWER 187

systematic propagation of falsehood, not only in the
immediate present and past, but for many years before.

As Brandes has pointed out x : " Nietzsche replaces
Schopenhauer's Will to Life and Darwin's Struggle
for Existence by the Will to Power. In his view the
fight is not for life — bare existence — but for Power.
And he has a great deal to say — somewhat beside
the mark — of the mean and paltry conditions which
those Englishmen must have had in view who set
up the modest conception of the struggle for life."

Here is to be found Nietzsche's contact with Darwin Hismis-
and his opposition to him ; though there can be no "Ending
doubt that the Darwinian theory was to a very great of. Dar-
extent responsible for his first conception of the
superman. In the first place, however, it is based
on a complete misunderstanding of Darwin's own
views. Darwin's theory of evolution was meant to
furnish a scientific explanation of natural phenomena
from a purely theoretical and scientific point of view.
In so far it was not meant to be a practical or ethical
guide to future conduct for man. It was eminently
concerned with causation. Nietzsche's theory of the
superman is nothing if not a practical and ethical
attempt at fashioning man's conduct to lead to the
production of the superman. It is chiefly teleological
in character. The fundamental difference between
the two standpoints has long since been established,
and has received the clearest exposition of their
antithesis, in Kant's Kritik of Pure Reason on the
one hand, and in his Kritik of Practical Reason on
the other. Nietzsche's misunderstanding of Darwin's
theory — if not his unfairness to him — consists in his
attributing to Darwin's thoughts and writings a
direct bearing upon ethical and practical problems of
human life. This mistake has often been made
before, and is constantly being made at the present
1 op. cit., p. 35.

188 MONSTROSITY OF NIETZSCHE'S SUPERMAN

moment by writers on ethics and pragmatics. It
must always be remembered that science and pure
philosophy endeavour to give a purely intellectual
explanation of the world of phenomena, as well as of
the world of noumena, the world of facts and of
thoughts, including even the theory of the universe
as well as of theology. Ethics, on the other hand,
deals with what may be called ideal states, not with
things as they are, but with things as man's best
thought leads him to believe they ought to be : —
not with to ov, but with to Beov, as the Greeks
put it. In its widest aspect this ethical activity
leads to the problem as to the final aim of all human
existence, if not of the universe. But even this final
aim — such will ever remain the limitations of man —
must be the aim of the universe from man's point of
view, the terrestrial man, not even the inhabitants of
Mars ; though it must be from man's highest and
ultimate power of thought.
The To Nietzsche the final aim of existence is the pro-

superman duction of the superman. He is the Endzweck (Final
the Purpose). " Humanity must work unceasingly for the

idea of production of solitary great men, this and nothing else
evolution. F . . ,, _. XT. , . . , ,

is its task. But Nietzsche s superman could not have

been conceived without the prevalent idea of evolu-
tion as established by Darwin for the age in which
Nietzsche lived. During the period of Nietzsche's
life the main ideas of Darwinian evolution, with
additional diffusion through the writings of Herbert
Spencer, nowhere received greater currency and
penetrated more widely among all layers of society
than in Germany. This does not mean that its true
depth and meaning, its accurate scientific limita-
tion in generalisation, its spirit of conscientious and
sober induction, which produces the highest spirit
of intellectual morality among esoteric adherents,
penetrated among the people at large. Nor did it

NIETZSCHE AND DARWIN 189

even reach Nietzsche himself, who, on the contrary,
revolted against, and was opposed to, the tyranny,
the scientific spirit of persistent induction. But it
did mean the diffusion of some of the leading ideas,
such as those of progressive advance in the develop-
ment of species throughout the ages, based upon the
survival of the fittest. Such phrases, moreover, as
" the survival of the fittest," more especially in the
particular aspect of " the struggle for existence "
(der Kampf urn's Dasein), were the commonplace pro-
perty of vast numbers of even illiterate Germans and
were constantly on their lips. From an ethical point
of view their application was not always happy or
morally beneficial ; and they not infrequently formed
the intellectual justification of the moral selfishness
and unscrupulousness of many an unsocial Streber.

From a much higher point of view — perhaps to
him not always quite consciously active in the for-
mulation of his theories — Nietzsche applied the
theory of evolution to his establishment of the theory
of the superman in that he assumed the advance in
the human species through the conscious action of
human individuals and human society as a whole.
In the beautiful symbolic language of Zarathustra :

M Man is a connecting-rope between the animal and
the superman — a rope over an abyss.

M A dangerous crossing, a dangerous wayfaring, a
dangerous retrospecting, a dangerous trembling and
halting.

11 What is great in man is that he is a bridge and
not a god ; what can be loved in man is that he is a
transit and an exit.

" I love such as know not how to live, except as
those making their exit, for they are those making
their transit.

" I love the great despisers, because they are the
great venerators, and arrows of aspirations for the
other shore.

igo MONSTROSITY OF NIETZSCHE'S SUPERMAN

" I love those who do not first seek a reason
beyond the stars for making their exit and being
sacrificed, but sacrifice themselves to the earth, that
the earth of the superman may arrive some day.

11 I love him who lives in order to know, and seeks
to know in order that the superman may hereafter
live. He thus seeks his own exit.

" I love him who labours and invents, that he may
build the house for the superman, and prepare for
him earth, animal, and plant ; for he thus seeks his
own exit."

The man The practical forerunner of the fully achieved
ancPhisS suPerman is the man of genius. Those who are not
followers, of the species genius (this means human society as a
whole) have, as their aim of existence, to favour and
to facilitate the realisation of genius, so that the final
goal in the production of the superman may be
reached. It will, of course, be difficult for the
individual to determine whether he is to obey or to
command, whether he is of common clay or of the
stuff of which the genius is made. In the determina-
tion of this fact lies many a pitfall in the actual
course of human life.
The pro- But the main question as regards the practical
duction ethics of Nietzsche is how the superman is to be
superman produced ; not he who is to obey and follow, but he
thrS h w^° *s to command and lead. It is here that, to my
misappli- mind, the whole theory of Nietzsche's superman fails,
cation of j venture to surmise, because of a complete mis-
winian apprehension of the Darwinian theory of evolution
pies.01" and its misplaced and crude application to ethics.
Darwin's The Darwinian theory of evolution, which, I repeat,
not con- was emphatically not meant to be teleological, but
cerned strictly causal, simply accounted for the survival of
ethics, the fittest in nature's great struggle for existence,
chiefly through adaptation of the organism to its
environment. Darwin himself repeatedly points out

DARWINISM AND ETHICS 191

the unethical, if not immoral, cruelty of nature in
this process. Bacon took quite a different point of
view when he upheld the great aim of man placed in
nature as the establishment of the Regnum Hominis,
the reasoned victory of man over the unreasoned
course of nature. But Darwin deals with no such
prospect of man's activity, and is simply concerned
with the natural progress arising out of such an
adaptive principle which leads to the survival of
the fittest. From man's point of view, however, if
he wishes consciously to apply the principle of the
adaptation to the environment, there is no chance of
advancement or progress unless the environment
itself, as, if I might say so, almost a planetary body,
advances. For man may adapt himself to physical
conditions that are M lower " instead of " higher."
As a matter of fact a good deal of the political and
social ethics of our own days is nothing more nor less
than this ethical opportunism, of adaptation of man's
life to the surrounding conditions of nature, the
final goal of which is merely physical subsistence or
at most increase of comfort. In one aspect of his
powerful writings Nietzsche fulminates against this
ideal of comfort. We are thus in a vicious circle if
we apply the Darwinian principle of evolution direct
to ethical principles. Our only hope would be in a
fatalistic renunciation as regards all ethical progress,
in which we hope that the environing nature itself
may " improve " ; so that by adapting himself to
his environment man himself may improve and
ultimately rise to greater heights of human existence.
For Nietzsche's superman, however, this environment
does not only consist in the physical conditions in
which the human animal finds himself living and by
which he is surrounded ; but in the physical con-
ditions of man's own body and his own instincts,
his inner force of living. These are to guide him.

14

192 MONSTROSITY OF NIETZSCHE'S SUPERMAN

He is to follow these as his true friends and to deny
them no claims which they may press upon his
conscious will. They thus really become the " en-
vironment " to the central personality of the indi-
vidual, which we may call soul, spirit, or whatever
else we like. But here again we are placed in the
vicious circle, though a circle one step higher than,
or perhaps only nearer to, the central core of individual
man. For we can hardly see how mere physical
health by itself or the following of our individual
instincts and passions can ensure progress and lead
us to the true superman, unless we can assume that
these instincts and passions themselves and in
themselves " improve " and go to the making of the
superman.1

On the contrary, not only the unbiassed study of
anthropology, ethnology, archaeology, and history,
but also our daily experience of life, teach us that
the pursuit of our instincts and passions, unrestricted
and unhampered by any further consideration or
guiding principle, leads, not only to the misery, if not
the destruction, of other individual life ; but in no
way produces the type which approaches the concep-
tion of even the meanest imagination of what a
superman ought to be. Nietzsche apparently has
forgotten or ignored (excellent Greek scholar though he
was) the simple statement of Aristotle that man is a
\jpov 7to\itik6v. Were each man completely isolated
and destined to live the life of an absolute anchorite,
without any relationship to other men, it might
perhaps be maintained that his chief task would then
be to adapt himself to his environment, which includes
his body and his instincts. But even then — as I

1 I may at once anticipate here, what will be dealt with in the
course of this inquiry, and say, that only when idealism is called in
to supplement evolutionism, when Plato and Aristotle — or rather
Plato and Darwin — are reconciled and united, can the theory of
evolution be applied to ethics.

THE ETHICS OF SLAVES 193

shall have occasion to show — there is a point of view
from which this would be grossly immoral, if not
grossly untrue to human nature as such.

The chief and perhaps lasting importance of Nietz-
Nietzsche does not lie in his positive, but in his imp^ch-
negative activity. It lies not so much in his appli- ment of
cation of the Darwinian principle of evolution to ethics,
ethics and sociology as in his powerful indictment of ^^Jjtian
the actual state of the social and ethical environ- of
ment of man, the adaptation to which forms the q!J]£]J£
process of evolution. He shows that this ethical and tionto
social environment is unfavourable to the advance- cf^f1"
ment of the best : that Christian ethics consistently
followed are ethics for slaves, — for the weak, both
physically and morally, the inferior, both physical
and moral ; and that in truth it retards, rather than
advances, the progress of the human type. As many
have thus done before and since, he — perhaps with
more uncompromising truthfulness and powerful
rhetoric — has shown up the immorality of the
ascetic ideal. With deep insight and learning, as well
as with acute critical incisiveness, he has traced the
real origin of this ideal in the past back to the
dominance of the inferior masses and has called it the
ethics of slaves. It is the hatred and envy of the
weak in body towards the healthy and strong, of
the down-trodden and morally servile towards the
ruling and lofty spirits. Its ideal has been to repress
and to crush bodily health and all that makes for
its advancement and increase. It thus necessarily
leads to the survival of the unfittest. It has en-
deavoured to make of the human body a thing of
ugliness worthy of contempt and suppression ;
whereas it is a thing of beauty, worthy of reverence
and claiming worship and freedom for all its natural
functions. So, too, the morally weak and lowly are
not to be protected, encouraged, and exalted ; but

194 MONSTROSITY OF NIETZSCHE'S SUPERMAN

they are to be superseded by the strong and the
lofty spirits. This constitutes the strong aristocratic
principle in Nietzsche, first recognised by Brandes,
whose essay on that philosopher is entitled Aristo-
cratic Radicalism.
Aristo- We must always remember that, though in the
Radical- relentless struggle of the modern economic world the
ism. financially fittest survive and crush the financially
unfit, our individual and social morality and the
firmly established sway of democratic principles
distinctly support and favour the aims of " the
people," or at least their " greatest number." There
is thus a direct contradiction between actuality and
ideality, between the existing rule of life and the
ethical rule. By far the greatest and most important
aspect of modern economic and social struggle centres
round this dualism and antagonism. Nietzsche
boldly and uncompromisingly takes his stand against
the masses.

" Significant of Nietzsche's aristocratic tendency,
so marked later, is his anger with the deference paid
by modern historians to the masses. Formerly, he
argues, history was written from the standpoint of
the rulers ; it was occupied exclusively with them,
however mediocre or bad they might be. Now it has
crossed over to the standpoint of the masses, but
the masses — they are only to be regarded as one of
three things : either as copies of great personalities,
bad copies, clumsily produced in a poor material, or
as foils to the great, or finally as their tools. Other-
wise they are matter for statisticians to deal with,
who find so-called historical laws in the instincts of
the masses — aping, laziness, hunger, and sexual im-
pulse. What has set the mass in motion for any
length of time is then called great. It is given the
name of an historical power. When, for example,
the vulgar mob has appropriated or adapted to its
needs some religious idea, has defended it stubbornly

NIETZSCHE'S CRITICISM OF HISTORY ' 195

and dragged it along for centuries, then tfts originator
of that idea is called great. There' is the testimony '.'
of thousands of years for it, we are told. But-— this
is Nietzsche's and Kierkegaard's idea — the noblest
and highest does not affect the masses at all, either
at the moment or later. Therefore the historical
success of a religion, its toughness and persistence,
witness against its founder's greatness rather than
for it." — Brandes' Friedrich Nietzsche, p. 19.

The advent of the superman is thus not only
retarded, it is completely checked. All our moral
values are out of focus, they merely tend to produce
these false and nefarious moral results. Pity,
altruism, generosity, and even justice, are mere
figments created to support this rule of the weak,
the lower individuals, and the masses, low in the
aggregate, all blocking the way to the free develop-
ment of the superior individual who leads to the
superman.

Nietzsche, who in his earlier essays, Thoughts out Nietzsche
of Season, criticises with most ingenious incisiveness SsStds-by
the dominance of the historical elements in German torical
education, to which he attributes all that is defective o" moral
in the preparation of his countrymen for a healthy principles
and advancing practical life, here falls into the very eiiminat-
pitfall against which he wishes to guard his country- jji what
men, when dealing with the fundamental elements sentiai to
and qualities which make up the higher human being. JJ^Jj*1
His own historical bias blinds him to the needs of
the present and the aspirations of the future in the
creation of a superman. He has deceived himself
into believing that, by accounting for the origin of a
human institution or ideal, he has destroyed its
intrinsic value and nobility in the present and its
beneficent effectiveness in the future. Whether his
theories of the origin and dominance of the ideas of
pity, of altruism, and of justice, be well founded in

196 MONSTROSITY OF NIETZSCHE'S SUPERMAN

fact, as regards tUe. past or not, the highest conception
of. man as such in the highest phases of man's his-
torical * evolution in the past, and certainly in the
present, and for any future projection of man in the
imagination of the loftiest types of the present, has
and will maintain the elements he thus spurns as
essential to the conception of a superman.

To us who fundamentally believe in the superman
as a true, just, and elevating ideal for the future :

A superman without love and pity is a monster ;

A superman without self-restraint, without the
control of the mind over the body, is a monster ;

A superman without self-effacement in view of
the good of humanity and the world in which he
is but a unit and mite, is a monster or will soon
grow into one ;

A superman who believes that the aim of the
existence of others is merely to facilitate his own
self-realisation is a monster ;

A superman who knows that he is one or believes
that he is becoming one is a monster and must go
to the madhouse or the gallows ;

A superman who, in becoming one, does not
hold before him an impersonal model of superiority
and perfectibility or, at least, an ideal of him-
self, but merely follows his natural instincts, is
a monster ;

A superman who in this idea of his perfect self
does not include self-discipline and social altruism
is a monster.

Yet in this condemnation of Nietzsche's immorality
and his distorted apprehension, not only of social
man, but of individual man, we must not fall into
the same error of negative and positive exaggeration
which prevents the life-work of this genius from
producing the full fruits of his labours for the advance-

NIETZSCHE'S ACHIEVEMENT 197

ment of mankind. He has once and for all clearly Nietz-
established the rights of the instincts to self-preser- JJiJjf 's
vation, physical and moral, to be considered in every achieve-
ethical system, even the loftiest, as not being bad, xhe
but noble and good. They have in themselves theri§hts
inalienable right to be considered, to move and to instincts
guide man even in his most conscious activity, unless to seU"

1 r 1 • i -it- • 1 Preserva-

some other current of higher social duties, recognised tion,
and admitted by man's reason, leads him to suspend ^Jjslcal
their sway. Every system of ethics which denies this moral,
and lowers the sanctity of the body and the Tightness
of man's instincts in themselves is either immoral or
unreasonable and degrading to man.

His other lasting achievement in the domain of The
morals and sociology is his advocacy of the aristo- ^atic"
cratic principle in social evolution, which raises the principle
whole domain of ethics from a fatalistic sphere of Evolution,
stagnation, if not retrogression, for man and mankind,
to a higher sphere of progress in life, of unbroken
advance in the ethics of society, and of a continuous
approach to the realisation of a higher type in the
human nature of the future. But this higher type
will not be guided by blind instinct or passion, or by
the desire for power as such, but will necessarily
mean the morally higher man.

Nietzsche's personality and its expression in his His
works will, however, stand out most markedly in the ness u "
history of our age, because of his uncompromising
truthfulness in his impeachment of the current
standards of morality and their inadequacy in ex-
pressing the best and highest in us, as well as of their
inefficiency to regulate the actions of the individual
and of society at large in the directions which lead
us on towards a superman, instead of down to the
barbarian and the vicious brute.

I have selected him and his views for fuller treat-
ment and criticism, not only because his teachings

198 MONSTROSITY OF NIETZSCHE'S SUPERMAN

The need may have a more direct bearing on this tragic war,
recon-6 but because he is thus the clearest and most emphatic
struction exponent of the inadequacy of the practical morals
of our day and the crying need for a bold and truthful
reconsideration of public and private ethics. Such a
treatment, however, must not follow the lines hitherto
adopted of vague and general speculation from a
purely scientific and theoretical point of view, dealing
with the origin of ethics and the basis of human
morality ; nor must it merely be concerned with the
historical inquiry into the ethical systems of the
past ; but it must definitely and boldly aim at the
establishment of the moral code which, with our
clearest and best thoughts, we can recognise to be
dominant in the present, in order to prepare for an
advance in the moral health of the individual and
of society at large in the future. On the other hand,
we need not, as Nietzsche wished us to do, deny our
past, sever ourselves from it by a violent cataclysmal
denunciation ; nor need we forego the indubitable
virtue of reverence which his superman must have
in his composition, at least in contemplating a still
higher superman, and which his " obedients " must
feel for the superman. We must not deny our
origin and must gratefully recognise what was good
in our past. I have, therefore, chosen the three
great types who, to my mind, embody the essential
elements in all ethics — of the past, of the present,
and for the future — from which to focus the three
general elements which make up the moral life of man
in its widest aspect : Moses, Christ, and Plato. They
typify Duty, Charity, and Ideality. Inseparably
interwoven, acting upon one another and modifying
each other, these three main aspects of the moral
world, as it lives in man's soul or may, we hope, exist
beyond the spheres terrestrial, will help us to an
understanding of man in the past, harmonise our

MOSES, CHRIST, AND PLATO 199

actions to ennoble ourselves and to benefit our neigh-
bour, while increasing the happiness of each ; and
will make of each one of us, and through us of our
surroundings, forces, however weak, which will lead
to the perfecting of future man. What is needed
now, above all the crying needs of civilised humanity,
is that those who can think best and are most repre-
sentative of the civilisation in which we live, should
hold up a mirror to their age, so that humanity can
see itself truthfully ; and that they should truthfully
and boldly tabulate what in their best belief consti-
tutes the good and the right, irrespective of what
was held of old, irrespective of dominant traditions
and institutions. Difficult as it always will be to
express the most complex thoughts clearly and con-
vincingly by means of faltering human language,
they should nevertheless attempt to fix these thoughts,
so that he who runs may read.

PART III
THE MORAL DISEASE AND ITS CURE

CHAPTER I

THE CODIFICATION OF MODERN MORALS

Not What modern man and modern society require
theoreti- above all things is a clear and distinct codification

cal dis- ° . .

quisitions of the moral consciousness of civilised man, not

principles merely m a theoretical disquisition or in vague and

of ethics, general terms, which evade immediate application to

codifica- the more complex or subtle needs of our daily life ;

tion of but one which, arising out of the clear and unbiased

highest study of the actual problems of life, is fitted to meet

and the every definite difficulty and to direct all moral effort

practical towards one great and universally accepted end. It

ethical js tfie absence of such an adequate ethical code,

truly expressive of the best in us and accepted by

all and the means of bringing such a code to the

knowledge of men, penetrating our educative system

in its most elementary form as it applies even to the

youngest children and is continuously impressed

upon all people in every age of their life — it is the

absence of such an effective system of moral education

which lies at the root of all that is bad and irrational,

not only in individual life, but in national life, and

that has made this great war — at once barbarous,

pedantically cruel, and unspeakably stupid — possible

in modern times.

RELIGION AND ETHICS 201

The reason why such an adequate expression of
moral consciousness has not existed among us, in
spite of the eminently practical and urgent need, is
that the constitution and the teaching of ethics have
been relegated to the sphere of theoretical study of
principles, historical or speculative, and have not
directly been concerned with establishing a practical
guide to conduct. No real attempt has been made
to draw up a code of ethics to meet the actual prob-
lems of daily life. Or, when thus considered in its
immediate and practical bearings, this task has been
relegated to the churches and the priests.

It cannot be too emphatically stated that, though Religion
never divorced from each other, religion and ethics gj^cs
envisage quite different spheres, and that when in Differ-
their practice and activity they are indiscriminately the es°
mixed up with one another, this fusion does not tend sential
to the good of either. The confusion of the primary attitude
attitude of mind which they imply and the definite in each*
spheres of activity which they are meant to control
results in the lowering or weakening of the spirit
and the practice of each. Ethics alone can never
replace religion. Religion alone, when wholly
dominating the heart and mind of man, cannot prepare
him to solve the problems of ethics with a clear and
unbiased mind, intent upon the weighing of evidence
and the searching inquiry into the practical needs of
society and of individual life. The at once delicate
and exalted moods of religious feeling and of
religious thought — not to mention the complex and
remote dogmas of each religion — are, to say the
least, not favourable to the sober, dispassionate, and
searching analysis of motives, of actions and their
results in the daily life of man, or the relations
between communities and States.1 Moreover, this

1 An almost caricatured illustration of the inadequacy of sectarian
morality is furnished by the sermons of several German divines of

202 CODIFICATION OF MODERN MORALS

strictly logical, unemotional, and sober analysis and

its prospective application to the regulation of

material prosperity, as well as spiritual health, is of

itself destructive of the very essence of that emotional

exaltation and that touch of mysticism which forms

an essential element of the religious mood. Its

intrusion into the domain of pure religion is of itself

lowering to such exaltation and destructive of its

most delicate and, at the same time, most powerful

spiritual force.

inherent Furthermore, it has undeniably been an element

tion°to" *n a^ religions of the past, that they should be

change in strongly conservative, and, at all events, fervently

ligions reverential towards the past teachings of their

founders and tenacious of this teaching converted

into dogma in bygone ages. In so far they are not

fully adapted to consider, with clear and unbiased

receptiveness, the actual problems of the present,

which are generally strongly contrasted to the life

high repute, representing the Lutheran Church, preached since the
above was written and which I here quote from the Spectator of
January 22, 19 16. They were translated by the Rev. W. Burgess.
They remind us forcibly of the standards of morality based upon the
Christian religion as adopted by the Inquisition. There is hardly a
single religious sect — perhaps with the exception of the Society of
Friends — which in its past history does not supply some grotesquely
immoral results of religious fervour.

Pastor Froebel, preaching in the well-known Lutheran church at
Leipsic, spoke of German guns as beating down the children of Satan
and of German submarines as "instruments to execute the divine
vengeance." The mission of the submarines, he explained, was to
drown thousands of the non-elect.

Professor Reinhold Suberg, in a sermon preached in the cathedral at
Berlin, said that Germans, in killing their enemies, burning their houses,
and invading their territories performed a " work of charity." Divine
love was everywhere in the world, but men had to suffer for their
salvation. Germany " loved other nations," and when she punished
them it was for their good.

Pastor Fritz Philippi, preaching in Berlin, said that as God allowed
His Son to be crucified that the scheme of redemption might be accom-
plished, so Germany was destined to " crucify humanity " in order
that salvation might be achieved. The human race could be saved in

DANGERS OF THE RELIGIOUS MOOD 203

of the past ; while much of this lucidity will be
lost when an attempt is made to translate the com-
plex life of to-day into the simpler conditions of the
past. Moreover, in religion all is seen through a
veil of antique mysticism. Nor, still less, can such a
conservative attitude of mind be favourable to the
essential spirit of change, to the adaptation to new
conditions implied in the conscious evolution of man
towards the higher conditions of a progressive
society, and to the continuous flow implied in the
very principle of life which, in the moral and practical
spheres, are the organic element of a normal, rational,
and healthy society. No doubt we may rightly hold
that, from one point of view, religion enters into every
aspect of man's existence, and that it may form the
ultimate foundation of our whole moral and intellec-
tual activity. But it does not and cannot deal directly
with the practical world, and cannot intrude itself
into our consciousness when we are bound to con-
no other way : " It is really because we are pure that we have been
chosen by the Almighty as His instruments to punish the envious,
to chastise the wicked, and to slay with the sword the sinful nations.
The divine mission of Germany, O brethren, is to crucify humanity.
The duty of German soldiers, therefore, is to strike without mercy.
They must kill, burn, and destroy, and any half-measures would be
wicked. Let it then be a war without pity. The immoral and the
friends and allies of Satan must be destroyed, as an evil plant is up-
rooted. Satan himself, who has come into the world in the form of a
Great Power [England], must be crushed. . . . The kingdom of righte-
ousness will be established on earth, and the German Empire, which
will have created it, will remain its protector."

A nation dependent for its moral guidance upon Nietzsche on the
one side and "pastors" on the other must drift into amorality.

It may be said that these are perversions of religious morality due
to the moral obliquity of those professing such views. But the fact
remains that, as in the Inquisition and other sectarian persecutions
of the past, the crime is committed by official representatives of the
Churches, invoking the very authority of their religious tenets. If
even such trained leaders can so misinterpret the moral laws of their
creeds, it does not speak well for the constraining, practical efficacious-
ness of such moral codes and the logical and practical foundations on
which they rest.

204 CODIFICATION OF MODERN MORALS

centrate all our mental and even physical energies
upon the consummation of some definite task in the
ever varying changes of our actual life. It is con-
cerned with man's relation to his highest ultimate
ideals and is based upon his higher emotional, and
not his practical and strictly logical, consciousness.
It implies no adaptation to surrounding and varying
conditions, no compromise within the struggle of
contending claims. In his truly religious moods,
in his communion with the supernatural, with his
ultimate ideals, there is no room for compromise,
practical opportunism, and the adaptation to the
ever-changing conditions of actual life.
Result Hence, the priest is not directly fitted to be the

ethical transmitter of this moral code of a healthy society
education in directing the young and in advising adults as
Sfj££" a minister of a definite religious creed. His ethical
teaching teaching must always be directly subordinated to the
'dogmatic creed which he professes ; and his habit of
mind, as well as his conscious purpose, must in so far
unfit him for the problem of establishing a living
code of practical ethics and of impressing it clearly
as a teacher upon young and old.

Moreover, in the present condition of the modern
world, we are brought face to face with a definite
fact which, perhaps, more than anything else, has
stood in the way of effective and normal advancement
of moral teaching among us . For in every community
we have not only one creed, but a number of creeds ;
and, whatever their close relationship to one another
may in many instances be as regards fundamental
religious tenets, they differ in organisation and
administration and in the personality of their minis-
trants to such a degree, that such difference not infre-
quently involves rivalry and antagonism. The most
practical result in our own national life is clearly
brought before us in the promulgation of the various

ETHICAL TEACHING IN SCHOOLS 205

Education Acts which, in great part, were merely
concerned with the adjustment of the claims of the
varied sects among us. They have thus led to the
exclusion of direct religious teaching and the reten-
tion of mere scripture reading as the only directly
spiritual and moral element in public instruction, or
they have led, and may lead, to the division of
spheres of activity of each one of these sects and
their clerical representatives of differing forms of
religious and moral instruction among separate
groups of children. That the impression upon the
youthful mind, in so glaring and manifest a form,
of fundamental differences in religious and moral
principles between them (perhaps suggesting and
establishing false standards of social distinction as
well), cannot be considered in itself a moral gain to
the establishment of a healthy social instinct in the
hearts of the individuals or the development of a
healthy and harmonious national and social life for
the community at large, can hardly be denied. At
all events, such a state of affairs does not bring us
nearer to the formulation of a common ethical code,
expressive of the highest national life on the ethical
side within each age, and the promise of a growing
development for the future. Meanwhile, whatever
may exist among us of ethical principles and moral
practices to which we all subscribe, is eliminated from
the activity of our educational institution ; and the
younger generation grows up without any instruc-
tion in common morality and without any clear
knowledge of its definite principles.

On the other hand, I should not like it to be thought Good
that I ignore, or am unmindful of, the good work JJJjj^jL
which the priests of all denominations have done on priests,
the moral side in the past and are doing in the present.
Whether priests of the Church of England or of the
Church of Rome, or ministers of the numerous Chris-

206 CODIFICATION OF MODERN MORALS

tian sects, or rabbis, they have in great numbers
devoted themselves to the betterment of their fellow-
men, they have held aloft the torch of idealism, and
many of them stand out as the noblest types of a life
of self-abnegation devoted to progress towards a
lofty ideal with complete self-effacement. The posi-
tive good which they have done and are doing is
undeniable.1 The picture of an English village with-
out its church, not only as a symbol of higher spiritual
aspirations, but as an active means of providing for
the dull and often purely material daily life of the
inhabitants a gleam of elevating life and beauty,
must make him hesitate who ruthlessly would destroy
it by missiles of cold thought, as those of German
steel have actually destroyed the churches in Belgium
and France, and shudder at the devastation he might
cause. But the firm conviction that what he has to
offer is not sheer and wanton destruction ; but that
the growth and spread of true morality will clear
the way for a brighter, higher, and nobler life, ending
in the expansion and advancement of pure and un-
contaminated religion, removes all doubt and fear and
strengthens our conviction in the Tightness of the cause
for which we also are prepared to lay down our lives.

1 On the other hand, it is equally undeniable that strictly clerical
morality has gone hopelessly astray. The type of the clergyman and
his family, far from extravagantly drawn, and the result of what I
should like to call catechismal ethics have never been more power-
fully presented than in the history of the Pontifex family in Samuel
Butler's The Way of all Flesh. This uncaricatured satire of the results
of catechismal morality gives an intensely tragic picture of life far
from uncommon in the immediate past and far from obsolete in the
present. Nor are the Pontifexes types of a lower order of Christian
or clerical society. They are good people of the worst kind. The
ethical teaching which denied all right to health, pleasure, brightness
in life, prematurely and disastrously introduces into the pure mind
of the young the idea of Sin, its prevalence, and its dominance, fills
us with revolt and loathing against such a code and such a system
of ethics, which we must consider one of the worst crimes which adult
man can commit, namely, crime against the young and the helpless.

DIFFICULTIES IN SECTARIAN MORALITY 207

We cannot admit that a morality, however adequate The
and high it may have been for the Jews living niany ^cai
centuries ago, can be adapted and fitted to the the an-
requirements of modern society without great con- j1^* not
fusion and loss in this process of adaptation. This sufficient
is especially the case when, as a chief ground for its modern
unqualified acceptance, religious dogma steps in and needs.
maintains that it is of direct divine origin. Even
when thus accepted, and effective as a guide to conduct
by many, many remain who do not honestly accept
the evidence of this direct divine origin. The effect
upon these latter is one of clear opposition to the
binding power of such moral laws, and may end in
an opposition to all moral laws.

15

CHAPTER II

THE TEACHING OF MOSES

Jewish
ethics.

Piety to- We must recognise with reverence the existence of
aSiieve?6 moral laws, such as those of Moses, in the past, and
ment of the fact that, in the evolution of history, they form
the basis of our progressive moral consciousness in
the present. We must also regard with gratitude
and admiration the achievement of those who estab-
lished such an ethical code for our ancestors, upon
which our moral consciousness ultimately rests, and
from which we are bound to work onwards and
upwards as the conditions of life and the growth of
human knowledge bid us and enable us to do in the
present.

Whatever may have been the achievements of
Khammurabi and of other law-givers, kings, priests,
and philosophers, in the dim antiquity of mankind,
to us and to the preceding ages of our own civilisa-
tion, the Ten Commandments of Moses mark the
greatest feat in the establishment of law and morality.
To him who casts his eye over the evolution of man,
from the earliest prehistoric ages onward, the more
or less chaotic conditions of human intercourse and
incipient social organisation, the summarisation in
definite human language, reduced to the shortest and
most compact form and responding to the essential
needs of human society in these Ten Commandments
is one of the greatest feats of the human mind
in the past. The very fact of their constraining

208

The

achieve-
ment of
the Ten
Com-
mand-
ments.

THE GREAT MORAL ACHIEVEMENT 209

influence throughout all the changes of centuries and
of ethnical, climatic and racial conditions, differing
so widely from those which obtained when Moses
proclaimed them to the people of Israel, is so wonder-
ful, that in itself it approaches the miraculous. It
is well, however, to remember that Moses was the
law-giver and Aaron was the priest.

On the other hand, we must recognise that if the Usurpa-
task of moral teaching had not been completely JJJJ1 by
usurped by the churches, with the exception of the churches.
legal element, which has been taken over by the
legal functions of the State and the establishment of
judiciary powers, there would have been — or certainly
ought to have been — a succession of moral codes
promulgated in various countries and periods and
accepted by the people. Yet the Mosaic laws, having
been incorporated as a moral code into the body
of the doctrine of the Jewish, Christian, and even
the Mohammedan churches, not only preserved their
binding quality, but also effectively prevented their
future development, modification, and adaptation and
the infusion of newer moral codes into the life of
successive societies.

Herein lies one of the peculiarities of Jewish religion Pecuiiari-
and ritual, and the consequent effectiveness of the j^sh
religious morality among the Jews in all times. In religion
Biblical days Israel was a theocracy, and the priests rituai in
were at the same time the rulers of the people and th,eir

effects

their guides in all conditions of national and social upon
life. In Rabbinic times the rabbi, besides being the morals-
minister of religion, was, above all, the teacher of the
people and the head of the community. Down to
our own days the truly Jewish communities (I am not
referring to the Christianised and modernised re-
formed sects, who in so far are not distinctly Jewish)
the synagogue is called the schul, which is the school
for secular teaching as well as religious. It is from

210 THE TEACHING OF MOSES

this school and the presiding rabbi that the Rabbinic
and Talmudic teaching, succeeding and supplementing
the Mosac teaching, have emanated. The Jews have
thus always had the elements of moral evolution and
have progressed in their general social organisation
with the advance of ages. Their law and their
morality effectively penetrated into the actual life of
the people and produced for them higher spiritual
standards and definite ethical codes which fitted
them for the conditions of life in which they found
themselves ; while always providing a spiritual
stimulus towards moral progress, in spite of the
occasional retrogressions caused by lowered standards
of the actual life about them, as well as the
formalisation and deadening to which such theo-
logical and ritual teaching naturally tends.

It is thus that in the Talmudic and other writings
we have the striking mixture of lofty moral aspira-
tions— subtle, intellectual, refining thought — with an
active and penetrating application to the actual
demands of daily life, its business and its pleasures ;
and all dialectic formalism tied down to precedents
of former dicta of earlier rabbis, as well as the pro-
nouncements of the Bible itself, raised more or less
to the weight and importance of religious authority.

In the course of time this formalistic element grew,
until the slightest ritual aspects of the functions of
daily life, for instance as regards the keeping of
the Sabbath, were not only raised out of all propor-
tion in moral significance and value, but were even
robbed of what dignity and importance they may
have had in their relation to actual daily life. Never-
theless, it is to this effective and progressive moral
life of the Jewish people in all ages, and to the
approximation between their higher moral codes and
the practice of daily life, that I venture to attribute
the tenacity of their survival as a people, and the

LAW AND MORALITY 211

superiority and success which have been theirs in all
times, wherever they have lived, even amid perse-
cution and conditions most unfavourable to the
development of a higher life.

But the Ten Commandments of Moses have been The Ten
embodied in Christian ethics, and have become ^ami-
canonical in the religious writings of the Christian merits
world. Their importance for the world will ever be the idea
that they are the first general and abstract pronounce- of duty
ment and expression of the ideas of duty and justice justice
as such. This is what they mean in their totality for tne

• • • • • T-i 1 modern

and is a summary of their injunction. They thus world,
imply and recognise the sense of duty in man as
opposed to his instinctive tendencies, those of the
mere animal in man, and lead to the establishment of
civilised society ; and, I repeat, that they have thus
formed the foundation for the moral consciousness,
not only of the Western world, but of Mohammedanism
as well. Some of these injunctions no longer belong
to the domain of ethics, but have been completely
merged in our laws.

In the evolution of social organisms, ending in the Ethics
full establishment of the State, the judicial function, Then^re"-
the promulgation of laws, and the administration of lationto
justice, become, together with the establishment of°nother
security from inimical aggression from without, the
chief functions of the State. Law becomes the
principal guide to public and individual conduct. But
laws can only deal with broad and manifest acts,
they are not concerned with the inner moral con-
sciousness of man or his more delicate relations in
daily life. We may say that, so soon as actions
directly enter the province of law, they no longer
enter the domain of ethics — which is far from mean-
ing that they become unethical, but that their
premisses assume another validity before ethical
thought begins. They are admitted and taken for

212

THE TEACHING OF MOSES

Inter-
action

granted ; and the responsibility of the individual to
establish their Tightness, or to enforce obedience to
them, no longer exists.

On the other hand, when the moral consciousness
between °* tne people finds that these laws are antiquated,
ethics that their action no longer conforms to ethical
demands or even runs directly counter to them, a
general impulse is created towards the modification
of such existing laws in conformity with the ethical
consciousness of the people and the age. In great
part this process marks the progressive legislative
function of the State. When moral tenets have
become of such universal importance and validity
that they distinctly modify the actions of larger
groups of people, they may then produce laws. For
instance, when the moral feeling of the public
revolted against the tyranny of the employer over
the employed, the Factory Acts were introduced
and became law, insisting upon the moral responsi-
bilities of the employer towards his workmen. Under
the same category would come all the encroachments
of public laws on the personal and domestic freedom
of the individual. So, too, it may be found that
certain established laws evoked by the temporary
conditions in which civilisation finds itself at a given
moment, are no longer useful, and may even be
harmful and immoral, when the social conditions
have altered. They will then have to be repealed
or modified. Thus the laws against witchcraft and
those upholding the privileges of certain classes to
the detriment of others, against which the moral
consciousness of the people revolted, have been
repealed or altered. This interaction between ethics
and law forms to a great extent the very life of the
State and the progressive spirit in its evolution. Now
the progressive spirit thus manifested in the inter-
action between ethics and law must be carried into

NEED FOR CODIFICATION OF MORALS 213

the life of ethics itself. New conditions should be Progress
established for this organic development of ethics ; ^he need
and it is the establishment of such conditions which I for.
am advocating as the supreme need of modern times, codifica-
We thus require such codification as may be recognised ^°n-
by all people ; and this must be the essential condition crying
for a possible and even a facile modification of our modern
common ethical code in response to the needs of our times,
social life and the advancement of our ethical con-
sciousness.

A great and important part of the Mosaic Com- The
mandments has thus reached the phase of law : ?^fof
" Thou shalt not kill " ; " Thou shalt not steal " ; Mosaic
" Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neigh- ma™d-
bour " : even " Thou shalt not commit adultery " — ments

ilrc<iclv

these Commandments practically need no longer make been em.
an appeal to the ethical consciousness of most of us bodied in
who are not born criminals, because they have been
embodied in our public laws ; and conformity to them
is exacted by all the constraining power of the State.
On the other hand, public law is not concerned with
inner morality and man's relation to his fellow-men,
which, for instance, are summarised under the term
of covetousness, a condition which may lead, when
that impulse is followed, to most degrading actions
as regards the perpetrator and most harmful deeds
as regards the victims, even culminating in crime. The
inner moral state, though it be the cause of even
criminal action (of which latter the State takes cog-
nisance through its laws) is of itself not the concern
of law, but purely of ethics. But the Mosaic Com-
mandments already deal with these more subtle and
recondite spiritual factors, and in a short and con-
centrated form touch upon, if they do not cover, the
main groupings of all moral states and duties.

The Ten Commandments, as a canon of human
duties, naturally fall under three main heads, which

214 THE TEACHING OF MOSES

The Ten remain the three natural groupings of human duties
mand- ^or a^ times. The first is the duty to God, the second
ments. the duty to oneself, the third the duty to man and
mankind. After inquiring into the adequacy with
which they respond to these three groups of duties,
x and the modifications and additions in the teaching
of Christ, I shall endeavour to set forth the need of
further ethical codification in our own times.
The duty i. One of the great and lasting achievements of
Spiritu- tne Mosaic law and of the Jewish religion in all times
ality of is, that it established the spiritual conception of the
Deity. Deity in so far as the people of that age were able
to rise into the domain of pure spirituality. The
essence of the First and Second Commandments is
the insistence upon the spiritual nature of the
Deity in opposition to the lower practice of
" idolatry " prevalent among the other peoples of
which the people of Israel had knowledge, and, no
doubt, prevalent within the Jewish communities in
the earlier stages of their development — to which
earlier state there are occasional relapses censured
and opposed by their spiritual rulers. The Jews thus
had forcibly enjoined upon them the duty of living
up to the highest ideals to which their moral imagina-
tion could attain in the conception which they formed
of their Deity. That this is in itself one of the
highest moral achievements no right-minded and
unbiased thinker can deny. The actual worship of
an image wrought by man's hand, or selected by him
casually from the realm of nature, often an object
possessing no higher spiritual quality of any kind —
all of which is implied in the term " idolatry " — cer-
tainly marks a lower stage in the development of intel-
lectual imagination, and, beyond all doubt as well, in
the creation of a moral imagination. On the positive
side this effort of the human mind to rise to the con-
ception of an ideal and perfect world is a distinctive

SPIRITUALITY OF THE DEITY 215

mark of intellectual as well as moral superiority, and,
as we shall see, may be considered the crowning point
of all spiritual and moral effort in the functions of
the human mind.

On the other hand, it must equally be beyond all Spiritu-
doubt, that the conception of the Deity formed by^^^
this comparatively advanced people in that early by an-
stage of social evolution, corresponds to the more morph-
elementary and, in so far, lower, conditions of the lsm-
social life prevailing in those times, and indicated the
intellectual and moral position to which it was pos-
sible for them to rise. Though one of the most
emphatic injunctions of the duty to God in the first
Commandment is directed against " the graven
image or any likeness to things in heaven or on earth,"
and the worship of such, the conception of such a
spiritual Godhead is nevertheless so distinctly anthro-
pomorphic, so clearly tied down to the semblance of
a human being, however spiritual and exalted that
being may be, that its spirituality is to a great extent
tainted by the material, earthly, and human con-
ception, so as almost to become in its turn a " graven
image." This anthropomorphism is still further
increased by the specially racial and national relation
which it is claimed the Godhead holds to the Jews.
This element, which detracts from the pure spiritu-
ality of the Mosaic Deity, is still further emphasised
to such a degree in one of the Commandments that
there can hardly be any intelligent orthodox believer
who has not hesitated, or even drawn back sharply
at one important passage in the Commandments,
and who, if retaining the passage within his accepted
faith, has not made endeavours to expunge it from
his consciousness, or its significant bearing on the
main conception of the Divinity. This passage deals
with the consequences of disobedience to the First
and Second Commandments, and affirms that God

216 THE TEACHING OF MOSES

is " a jealous God, and visits the sins of the fathers
upon the children unto the third and fourth genera-
tion of them that hate Me, and shows mercy unto
thousands of them that love Me and keep My com-
mandments." This is not, as has often been main-
tained, merely a general statement of fact in the
causality of things natural, and the consequence of
human action in which it may no doubt be shown
that the responsibility for evil acts is carried on
through generations from the perpetrator of the
crime ; but it is embodied in the moral command-
ment, enjoined by the Deity Himself, in which justice
and mercy must form the leading moral attributes ;
and, whether just or unjust, the intrusion of reward
and punishment as a consequence of worship shows
a comparative lowness in the conception of a divine
being, intelligible in the people who represented an
early and lower stage of civilisation, but inadequate
as the expression of the higher moral consciousness
of our own time.

Furthermore, the inadequacy, as regards ourselves
in our own time, implied in this conception of the
Deity from the very outset, of a distinctly national
or racial bias as the God of Israel, though amply
accounted for and justified by the state of civilisa-
tion prevailing at the time, must be repugnant to
the religious sentiment and the moral consciousness
of the mass of thoughtful people whose civilisation
has benefited by the higher intellectual efforts of the
many centuries out of which we have grown. It is,
to say the least, purest anthropomorphism, and, in so
far, directly opposed to any spiritual conception of
a divine ideal.
The I cannot here enter into a discussion of the exact

Third meaning of the Third Commandment, which enjoins
mand- that we shall not use the name of the Lord in vain.
ment" How far this has a direct theological or ritual signi-

THE THIRD COMMANDMENT 217

fication,and is in so far merely an enlargement of the
preceding commandment, or how far it must be taken
in connection with the Ninth Commandment, which
would give it a distinctly human and social signifi-
cance, I do not, and need not, venture to determine.
If it be the latter, and be mainly concerned with the
making of solemn asseveration by associating it with
the name of the Deity such as is the case in the
taking of an oath, it might be considered under the
heading of our duty to truth. But, intrinsically
and by actual practice in Jewish and Christian life,
it seems to me to be rather concerned with the need
of keeping the Deity and all that concerns man's
relations to God high and pure in practice, so that
the Godhead in man's thought and speech should
not be lowered and blunted by frivolous use and
abuse.

2 . The duty to our self, which forms so important Duty to
a part of an ethical code, is practically only repre- ™e3e '
sented by one commandment, and in one very limited Fourth
sphere. It is, moreover, based upon so inadequate n^d-
a theological reason, and has become so thoroughly men}-
formalised by a merely ritual conception, that its adequacy
moral weight and significance have become weakened, "imodern

. times.

if not lost. It is needless to say that, for us, the
injunction to keep a day of rest, based upon the fact
that God created the universe in six days, cannot
be valid. Nor can the insistence upon one day, and
that day definitely fixed — however convenient and
suggestive the association with astronomical and
chronological division may make it — be considered
by us as essential to a moral conception of the duty
to our self. Still less is this moral aspect impressed
upon us by the dead formalism which later Jewish,
as well as Christian, ritual impressed upon this
chronological selection. The racial and ritual
formalism to which Jewish practice led in later years

218 THE TEACHING OF MOSES

Moral is most strikingly illustrated by the laws enacted by

appiica- orthodox Judaism concerning the keeping of the

tionof Sabbath. From sunset on Friday evening to sunset

mand- " on Saturday evening the strictly observant Jew was

ment. not, and is not, allowed to do any manner of work,

and this, in the commandment, is even extended

beyond the immediate family to the servants and

the domestic animals, as well as to " the stranger

within thy gates."

Thus orthodox Jewish families even did, and still
do, their cooking before the advent of the Sabbath ;
they dare not light their lamps, or extinguish them,
or open a letter, or perform most of the ordinary
functions which modern life brings with it. But, on
the other hand, when the lamp is to be lit or extin-
guished on the Sabbath, they call in some " Gentile "
to perform this act for them. Such an action can
only be based on one of two alternatives. Either
these commandments, and in consequence the favour
of the Deity, are strictly limited to the Jewish race
and do not apply to the rest of mankind, or, if they
do, the orthodox Jew does not concern himself with
the sin of his non-Jewish neighbour and the conse-
quent disfavour brought upon him in the eyes of
his Deity. Either of these consequences must be
revolting to the moral consciousness of civilised and
right-thinking man, and are, in so far, grossly immoral.
Still the undeniable and most important fact
remains : that this Fourth Commandment, which
impresses upon us the duty to our self in providing
for that refreshment and reinvigoration of our
physical and mental powers, does recognise such a
duty to our self. It recognises and directly provides
for the maintenance of bodily health as a sacred duty
on the part of man, and, in so far, elevates physical
life and the cult of the body into higher moral spheres.
The same applies to our mental life, in which the com-

SOCIAL MORALITY 219

mandment counteracts the abnormal and unhealthy,
as well as exclusive, development of the sense of duty
in work, which suppresses all instincts towards
recreation and the claims of the more passive and
receptive side of our mental life. In so far this com-
mandment is directly opposed to the ascetic ideal.
Important as we may consider the inclusion of such
a commandment in the Decalogue at this early date,
we now must feel that it is not an adequate expo-
sition of such duties in a full codification of moral laws
to apply to the actual needs of our advanced stage
of existence. The consideration of the duty to our
self, developed by means of a searching and truthful
inquiry into its relative claims, forms one of the
most important parts of our moral requirements.

3 . We now come to the third division of ethical Duty to
injunction as conveyed by the Ten Commandments, bourClg
which deals with man's relation to his fellow-men, and to
Social Morality.

Beginning at the more proximate and intimate Duty to
sphere, in the relation of the individual to the family, family,
it naturally puts, as a foremost injunction, the duty of
children to parents. To honour one's father and mother
is an ethical and social law which has been valid in
all times since man evolved the institution of the
family. The Tightness of the family being admitted, Duty of
the desirability and even the necessity of all that can ?ll^ts
be summarised under the injunction to " honour " and of
the heads of the family, needs no further comment yo„ng to
or support. Where the family is no longer recognised the aged.
as a social or ethical unit, indispensable to the advance-
ment of society as a whole, such a commandment
would lose much of its absolutely binding power and
of its moral validity. That the family is, and, as
far as we can project our thoughts, ought to be, an
essential unit of civilised society, I am firmly con-
vinced. But, even if this were not admitted, it

220 THE TEACHING OF MOSES

cannot be doubted that the moral habit of man, as
well as the discipline attached to it, of showing
gratitude, or at least deference and consideration, to
father and mother, and, by implication as well, to
the aged, on the part of the young, are elements
that can never be eliminated from the development
of higher morality in social beings in whom the moral
sense is at all elevated and refined.
Duty of On the other hand, the complete silence as regards
children ° any duties which parents owe to their children, duties
and other varying with the different ages to which they attain,
relation- anQl the relations which these hold to the family and
ships. the world outside, may give an appearance of incom-
pleteness and one-sidedness which might produce, if
not justify, opposition to the absoluteness of this
commandment. Moreover, the regulation of other
family relations is an ethical problem of most prac-
tical import to the establishment of valid and efficient
Doubts social ethics. Be it that some doubt may in our times
Umita- ^e felt by many as regards the justification of the
tions con- family as an essential, or at least an important,
theFifth element in social organisation, or be it merely from
Com- the tendency towards self-indulgence or the gradual
mentun- atrophy of all sense of duty among us, there are
justified, many thoughtful people, in no sense devoid of the
higher ethical principles, who completely deny the
constraining authority of this Fifth Commandment.
We have all heard it put bluntly that " We
were in no way responsible for being put into the
world, and, having no say in the matter, the re-
sponsibility rests with the parents, and with them
the responsibility to look after their children ; so,
on that account, there is no debt of gratitude."
Quite apart from the sober, if not jejeune, considera-
tion of the need for the disciplinary organisation of
any household corresponding to that of any other
organisation in which people must live together and

THE FIFTH COMMANDMENT 221

regulate all aspects of life, and therefore require
graduation of authority and discipline, the continuous
manifestation of affection and of self-abnegation on
the part of normal parents, at least throughout the
years measured by the childhood of their offspring,
the sacrifices necessarily implied by those who have
children, as compared to those who have none, ought
to appeal to the sense of justice and fair play, and
in so far call for gratitude and consideration, if not
for more, on the part of the children. Moreover,
who would deny that in the same development of
a human soul, corresponding to the healthy develop-
ment of a human body, the growth and refinement of
affection and of the sense of reverence form an in-
tegral part to the organic completeness and social
and moral fitness of such a soul. A child brought
up without any sense of filial affection, of gratitude,
or of reverence, is morally incomplete, if not crippled
and monstrous. In so far this commandment will
ever remain a most important element in every moral
code. What must, however, estrange, if not shock,
the advanced moral sense of modern man is the
passage accompanying this injunction and supporting
it : '• That thy days may be long in the land which
the Lord thy God giveth thee." Whatever meaning
he attributed to this passage, it cannot be denied
that it is meant to convey consequent reward to
those who follow this commandment. Though this
be quite intelligible in a comparatively early stage
of social and ethical evolution for a people for whom
these commandments were promulgated, they can-
not appeal to the more advanced and refined moral
sense of those who live in our age.

The four following commandments are fundamental The
to the organisation of society, and have since had theNinth
binding authority upon civilised communities in Com-
all ages, including our own times. As has already ments!

222 THE TEACHING OF MOSES

been said, their validity is so unquestioned that
with us they no longer form a part of our ethical
code, because they are embodied in our laws ; and
we thus need not include them in our ethical con-
sciousness of which they form an admitted substratum.
Duty to The last of these four, enjoining that " Thou shalt
truth. not beaj. faise witness against thy neighbour," pro-
nounces the importance of truth as affecting the
most apparent and tangible relations of social life
in which the infringement of such a commandment
brings most manifest and evil results. The duty to
truth is here defined and limited to the " bearing of
false witness against thy neighbour." It is this
commandment, perhaps taken in conjunction with
the Third Commandment, which is concerned with
truth. It cannot be irreverential and unreason-
able to express surprise that, in the definite and
succinct form in which the preceding commandments
deal with human life and human property, the
commandment did not read simply, " Thou shalt not
lie." The abstract and absolute duty to truth is
an ethical injunction which would and must form
the corner-stone of the ethics of modern man — truth
in itself and quite apart from its restricted practical
application to those actions which might directly
injure our neighbours. But we cannot expect that
in those early stages of social evolution this height
of ethical development should have been attained.
The su- But the last commandment enters more fully into
preme actual social relations, and does not only manifest
import- deep knowledge of human nature and of human life,
f,00-0* but has also revealed with deep insight one of the

the Tenth . \ °.

Com- very fountain-heads of evil in the social intercourse

JJUJJ?" between men. It is more purely ethical than almost

any of the other commandments, in the sense that

it rises above the constraining power of law and points

to the ethical process within the very heart of man

IMPORTANCE OF THE TENTH COMMANDMENT 223

and the secret founts whence action flows. It is
intended to counteract the sinister effects of jealousy
and envy, from which hatred and malice, and per-
haps most of the evils which man inflicts upon man,
are derived. The searching importance attached to
this last and most comprehensive of moral com-
mandments is shown by the enumeration of all the
chief groups of possessions reflecting the life of the
day, from home and wife even to the very domestic
animal in man's possession. In so far this com-
mandment may be considered the very first guide
and landmark to the ethical activities of thinking
man for all ages to come.

16

CHAPTER III

THE TEACHING OF CHRIST

Sum- Though we have seen that most of the Ten Com-
Resuitof niandments have, in the advancement of human
the Mo- society since the early date of their tabulation, been

S3.1C Lfl.'W

is the es- embodied in what we call law in contradistinction to
tabiish- ethics, and though we feel that the conception of the
the sense Godhead and the Commandments emanating from
of duty. such a conception are inadequate to the spiritual
needs of modern man ; though we, furthermore, feel
that the commandment which refers to the duty to
ourselves does not adequately serve as a guide for
the moral consciousness of modern man ; and though,
finally, while recognising the supreme moral import-
ance of the last commandment, counteracting our
unsocial instincts in covetousness, we must recognise
that the mere formulation of this commandment is
not enough to act as an efficient moral guide in the
modern conditions of life. In spite of these natural,
and even necessary, limitations, we must feel con-
vinced, with equal strength, that the summary and
total influence of the Mosaic Commandments for the
Jewish people of that day, and for the whole civilised
world ever since, has been the clear recognition of
the sense of duty and justice in man as a corner-stone
to the whole structure of human morals and human
conduct. This is one of the greatest achievements
in the history of mankind. This sense of duty and
sense of justice must be trained in man, so that he

224

THE SENSE OF DUTY 225

should manifest his direct humanity, and they cannot
be dispensed with, even in Nietzsche's ideal of the
superman — a moral postulate to which the conduct
of every man must be subordinated. The Will to
Live, the following of the natural instincts, can be
no guide to man as he is, and still less to man as we
must recognise that he ought to be — that is the ideal
of man, the superman. To follow the natural in- To follow
stincts consistently and logically must lead to one ^u®al ,na"
of two alternative results, namely, to the mere instincts
ruminating or bovine state of complete physical the dis-
health and negative mental peace, perhaps to the solution
Nirvana which Schopenhauer borrowed from Buddh- society,
ism ; or to the war of all against all, internecine
conflict, which the upholders of the contract social
recognised as the necessary preliminary condition
out of which orderly society grew. Now the only
power which can be applied to the guidance and
regulations of instincts and passions is, ultimately,
Reason. Reason is by its very nature outside and
above instincts, the great forces which blindly and
often ruthlessly make for self-preservation and self-
advancement. It must thus permeate the instinctive
passions and give a new direction to them. This
implies an outgoing, a centrifugal current of the Altruism
mind, which the Greeks characterised by the term
irp6(f)p(i)v , and for which we can find no better term
than that of Altruism. It means the subjugation
and regulation of each instinct, however much we
may regard the justice of its claims, and not consider
the instinct in itself bad because it is natural. This
regulation of our instinct must be in conformity with
an idea which human reason (than which we can find
no better guide) establishes and justifies.

Moreover, such guiding ethical ideas cannot, and
need not, be consciously appealed to nor applied
to every definite act on the part of man, interrupting

226 THE TEACHING OF CHRIST

The and weakening, if not wholly dissolving, the strength

sense1 anc* sPontaneity of action and of will, by their inter-
habit' cession ; but they must by education and practice,
manners, ending in habit, be transformed into emotional states
which, in what we may call the moral sense, or taste,
or even manners, modify our passions, our emotive
forces, and turn them into the ethical and social
channels regulated by these guiding ideas sanctioned
Ethos, by Reason. They must create what the Greeks called
charac- ethos, and produce in man what we call his "character."
I endeavoured to show the importance of the proper
balance between this relation of emotion and intellect
in man in an essay published many years ago.1
The task To make such a moral and social ethos effective is
of mak- the task Q£ aYi ethical education, whether supplied in

ing such / rtr

an etkos the home, the school, or by life itself. The most
fs^eaim efficient focus for such education and for the
of all discipline which favours or produces such ultimate
tion. results is the home. It is here that the conditions of
The home life, in which individuals are thrown together con-
family, stantly and continuously with strong ties of affection
and duty always impressed upon them, and the
curbing of the selfish instincts, are from the earliest
age, by daily repercussion, produced and developed.
Of itself and in itself this effect of family life, intimate
and penetrating and all pervasive within the home,
is one of the most efficient and important, if not the
chief, justification for the existence of the family
within each larger social body or group. No institu-
tion or regulation of social life that exists, or none that
can be devised and proposed, can replace this. Be-
DiscipUne ginning with the relation of children to parents, as
obedi- already laid down in the Fifth Commandment, it
ence. teaches the young the important discipline of learning
to obey ; and this quality itself, even when it is

1 The Balance of Emotion and Intellect. (London, Kegan Paul & Co.
1878.)

DISCIPLINE AND OBEDIENCE 227

entirely dominated by the recognition of what is
just and best as the rational justification of obedience,
is one of the most important human qualities which
must be developed in every perfect being as a habit
and an emotional state. Even the superman — and not
only the obeying ones, whom Nietzsche groups round
the genius or superman — is not, and can never be, a
realisation of the highest human qualities and forces
unless he possesses this characteristic. For it will be
through self-discipline and obedience that he will be
enabled to curb and to subdue all those instincts and
passions (perhaps even those of pity and love) in
order that he should mould his life towards the great
purpose which as a superman he holds before himself.

Perhaps more than any other aspect of contem- contem-
porary social ethics, it is the neglect of this develop- J°g^f
ment of discipline and the sense of duty which is the duty and
most noticeable feature in the moral disease from j^~
which we are suffering ; and the work of Lord Meath
and his supporters in founding the Duty and Disci-
pline movement among us is amply justified in fact.
Amid all the undoubted material and moral evils
produced by this terrible war, we may be comforted
in recognising that, to a certain degree — though not
to the extent which some warlike enthusiasts fondly
hope — the sense of national duty and discipline has
been aroused throughout the country, if not the world,
in spite of the lowness of ideals and the unspeakable
baseness of moral practice which every day and every
hour and in every aspect the war itself produces and
impresses upon the minds of all the combatants, as
well as the non-combatant portion of every nation.

Admirable as in many directions the organisation School
of our public schools and the life among the pupils insuffici-
may be, the conditions of such life are still regulated ent in ^"s
too exclusively from the point of view of the boy- Home
community itself, and, though it establishes its own^neces~

228 THE TEACHING OF CHRIST

discipline (not in every respect on grounds which
justice or wisdom will always ratify), it can in no way
replace the constant curbing of selfish instincts and
of self-indulgence, or develop obedience to more
unselfish purposes, which the life in a family circle
provides. Without this training, afforded from the
earliest youth upwards by family life, where the per-
formance of duties and services is so constantly required
by members of the family as to create an emotional
state or a habit, the discipline of curbing selfish
instincts can never be effectively impressed. The
Montessori system fails in this respect in not develop-
ing duty, though no doubt excellent in producing love
for things taught.
The Without it there is produced the imperfect human

egoist. being, the monstrous moral and social cripple whom
we call the egoist. He is not only essentially unlov-
able, but he becomes socially impossible, even unjust
to himself as well as to others, and hence less likely
to be normally happy. While deficient in the power
of self-control, self-detachment, and positive self-
repression in dealing with ideas or general duties, he
is less efficient in performing the ordinary impersonal
tasks of life self-imposed or imposed by circum-
stances. From an almost physiological point of view
he is bound to become abnormal, if not pathological.
The unchecked realisation of selfish instincts inevit-
ably leads to what, from a pathological point of view,
is technically called hysteria, or, as applied to physical
consciousness, hypochondriasis.1 If, as a conscious
disciple of Nietzsche's or as an unconscious worshipper
of the Will to Live or the Will to Power, he thinks
that he has discovered in himself the elements which
produced a Caesar, a Napoleon, or a Wagner, he

1 George Meredith's great satire of The Egoist, and Mr. Maxwell's
novel In Cotton Wool, illustrate forcibly this pathological development ;
whilst dealing with widely different characters and productive of
different results.

THE EGOIST 229

becomes one of that numerous breed of malignant
social cripples who generally bring disaster upon them-
selves. They also produce discord and unhappiness
in all their relations of human life, because they
think that all things and the wills and interests of all
their fellow-men ought justly to be subordinated to
the advance of their own little selves or the great
causes with which they have, by a fond, though none
the less grotesque, illusion identified their own lives
and their own interests. Besides this pronounced
and sometimes pathological development of the
egoist, who has not learnt by earlier and by con-
tinuous practice in duties from which he cannot
escape, to curb his will and his instincts in all the
nice shadings of altruistic action, the experienced
observer of life must realise the loss incurred for
such moral training without the institution of
marriage and of the family. He may often observe
that amongst his unmarried acquaintances, the
typical " old bachelor " and " old maid," and even
in the happily married childless couples who have
developed a strong, though limited, affection for one
another, the paucity in opportunities for continuous
practice in actual unselfish discipline which family
life affords, not only diminishes their adaptability and
needs, of pliancy to meet the needs, even impersonal
daily activity in complex social life, but also, in so far,
weakens their general power of complete self-detach-
ment in any given task, and is likely to accentuate
abnormal personal idiosyncrasy, if not eccentricity.

Quite apart from the great question of sexual love Love the
and its rational and social regulation — upon which I *2~fjL
do not wish to enter here — the justification, nay, the man and
essential necessity, of the institution of family and nature-
of marriage are entirely established by this aspect of
ultimate social ethics, both as regards the normal
development of the individual man as such, as well

230 THE TEACHING OF CHRIST

as the best development of social groups and society
as a whole. The great Eros (love in its widest accep-
tation) which is and will ever remain the centrifugal
or emotional force in humanity and in the world, is
actually and continuously developed and strength-
ened, if not produced, by conditions which are pri-
marily found in filial relations and in the family.
This central power of the soul strengthens the
emotionality of man in an altruistic direction, or at
least controls the directly selfish impulses ; and this
growth and power of love, this increase of cardiac
vitality and passion, make a man capable of doing
great things and of ultimately becoming a superman
or at least of contributing to his development. The
superman is above all the man with the biggest heart,
the strongest capacity for loving, and the greatest
power of controlling his forceful and pliant affections
in any direction which his reason and its ultimate
ideals may dictate. This love is, if not the only
factor, certainly one of the essential ones in the
development of a great human being. Trained and
strengthened in the family and concentrated in
personal and individual affection, it rises beyond
these to embrace further spheres, extending beyond
the community to the wider country in the form of
patriotism, and beyond this to the love of man as
such, the love of humanity which, above all other
powers, makes man a true human being,
in es- It is especially in two aspects that Christianity

*fbllcs^ng supplements Judaism and marks an ethical advance,
trai ideas an upward step, towards the ultimate ideals of the
and°hu- human species. Beyond the sense of justice and of
manity duty, the central teaching of Christ and the very
anity " spirit of Christianity in its purest and noblest form
supple- js this all-pervading spirit of love. And, together

ments . , ° . A _ , « „, ' .

Judaism, with the duty towards God and family and nation
and the love of them, the spirit of Christ's teaching

CHRISTIAN LOVE 231

impresses the whole of mankind and spurns the
narrower limits of racial preference. It is no doubt
untrue and unfair to Judaism to maintain, or even
to imagine, that its teaching did not inculcate love
and pity, and that it excluded from the purview of
our duties and our feelings " the stranger within
our gates " or even beyond our gates. Hillel may
have anticipated the golden rule of " doing unto
others as we would they should unto us," and many
passages may be found in Jewish moral teachings
which distinctly imply that our feelings and duties
are not to be bounded by the family or the race.
But there cannot be any doubt that, in this natural
process of ethical evolution, Mosaic ethics were
supplemented and advanced by the clear and emphatic
insistence upon the love of man, upon pity and
sympathy with him, and that the conception of
this relation to man was widened far beyond the
bounds of race and even included the enemies of
the Jewish people, and the enemy of the individual
also. On the other hand, it cannot be denied that,
however much may be said of the social and ethical
attitude of the Jewish people as extending beyond
their racial limitation, in the eyes of their God, as
well as in their popular beliefs, some preferential posi-
tion was assigned to the people of Israel ; and that
in so far this racial or nationalistic attitude counter-
acted the wider ideals of human love contained in
Christ's teaching. The true teachings of Christ will
always thus be identified with the opposition to the
limitations imposed by race or nationality upon man's
duties towards mankind and his affection for man as
his brother.1

1 It is one of the ironies of history, one of the many historical
absurdities in human profession as contrasted with human action, that
during the controversies and passions grouping round the Dreyfus
case in France — a more isolated and attenuated instance of so-called
Christian persecution of their fellow-men of the race which produced

232 THE TEACHING OF CHRIST

TheSer- No part of Christ's teaching conveys more clearly
mon on ancj more definitely and with the true ring of authen-
Mount. ticity this great moral achievement, than the Sermon
on the Mount. Whatever the results of modern
Biblical criticism may be as to the direct author-
ship of this sermon, its date and composition and
relation to the other parts of the New Testament
and the degree of its authenticity, the fact remains :
that this Sermon on the Mount will ever stand forth
as a great monument in the ethical and religious
teaching of mankind. It definitely marks the great
step in ethical development, in the recognition of love
and charity, not only as a ruling principle in the
relations of man to man, but also as a power within
man which advances him in his perfectibility and
without which no ideal of a human being can be
conceived.
The Ser- It is thus this central doctrine of love with which
mon on ^e Sermon on the Mount is intended to supplement
Mount the Mosaic commandments ; but, at the same time,
scioiisiy ** must be beyond all doubt to any fair-minded
meant to student of that sermon, that it is consciously directed
advance in opposition to the process of formalisation which
in ethical took the life and spirit out of the old-established

teaching. r

moral laws and which no longer responded to the
new needs created by the advance of the later
generations and the newer conditions of life. It
emphatically implies the insufficiency of the earlier

Christ — the anti-Dreyfusards, representing the claims and interests
of the Church, should have summarised their chief antagonism against
the Jews by the term of opprobrium sans-patries. Christ Himself
was the greatest of all sans-patries in respect of urging the claims of a
wider humanity ; while, on the other hand, it can be noted even in
the present war — in spite of the attempted disingenuous identification
of international finance with the whole Jewish race — that, fighting
with patriotic zeal in every one of the opposing armies, and often pro-
tagonists in urging the political claims of each of the several contending
nations, Jews are foremost in patriotic ardour.

ADVANCE IN MORALS 233

moral code to respond to all these new conditions.
Even in Christ's time many of these moral command-
ments had passed into what we call law, and could
be taken for granted. Mere conformity to them was
not enough to elevate the moral standards of the
individual and to comply with the social needs of
the community. Christ did not mean to destroy
these accepted laws, but to develop them still further.
" Think not that I am come to destroy the law, or
the prophets : I am not come to destroy, but to fulfil."
On the other hand, the mere formal compliance with
the old laws was not enough. It could only satisfy
the formalists whom He called Scribes and Pharisees.
" For I say unto you, that except your righteousness
shall exceed the righteousness of the Scribes and
Pharisees, ye shall in no case enter into the kingdom
of heaven." " Thou shalt not kill " was not enough
to counteract the evil in the social feelings of man
to man ; He enjoined that we must go deeper down
into our feelings towards our fellow-men for the
seat of the evil, and we must not kill his self-respect
or wound his feelings. " Ye have heard that it was
said by them of old time, Thou shalt not kill ; and
whosoever shall kill shall be in danger of the judg-
ment ; but I say unto you, that whosoever is angry
with his brother without a cause shall be in danger
of the judgment : and whosoever shall say to his
brother, Raca, shall be in danger of the council :
but whosoever shall say, Thou fool, shall be in danger
of hell fire." So, too, the Seventh Commandment
did not adequately respond to the higher moral con-
sciousness : " Ye have heard that it was said by them
of old time, Thou shalt not commit adultery ; but,
I say unto you, that whosoever looketh on a woman
to lust after her hath committed adultery with her
already in his heart." And thus what was merely
recognised as illegal is carried still further into the

234 THE TEACHING OF CHRIST

ethical sphere of the motive which leads to the
illegal deed.
Moral in- He carries this moral inwardness, this further
wardness. refinement and development of the moral sense,
still deeper when he definitely condemns the formalism
in those who merely clung to restricted and outwardly
manifest laws and did not respond to the higher
ethical needs. " Take heed that ye do not your
alms before men, to be seen of them : otherwise ye
have no reward of your Father which is in heaven.
Therefore, when thou doest thine alms, do not sound
a trumpet before thee, as the hypocrites do in the
synagogues and in the streets, that they may have
glory of men. But when thou doest alms, let not
thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth. . . .
And when thou pray est, thou shalt not be as the
hypocrites are : for they love to pray standing in
the synagogues and in the corners of the streets,
that they may be seen of men. . . . But thou, when
thou pray est, enter into thy closet, and when thou
hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father. ..."
The But, above all, He wishes to oppose whatever forces

SvSsu- may counteract the positive love of one's fellow-men.
preme. These forces are the spirit of enmity and the spirit
of hate and vengeance. This is impressed with the
greatest strength, far beyond the confines of mere
justice. Justice is, if not superseded by love, sup-
plemented as far as man's heart goes by love which
is to rule there. " Judge not, that ye be not judged."
And there is added to it the beautiful warning against
selfishness which distorts the truthful judgment of
other claims, in the " beholding of the mote that is
in thy brother's eye, but considerest not the beam
that is in thine own eye ? " Justice can in no way
destroy the spirit and the demand of human love :
'■ An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth " cannot
destroy the claims of charity : and there follow the

CATHOLICITY 235

sublime words that " whosoever shall smite thee on
thy right cheek, turn to him the other also. And if
any man will sue thee at the law, and take away thy
coat, let him have thy cloak also."

He combats chiefly the spirit of hate and venge- The ex-
fulness : and the spirit of love is not to be confined £heS s^rit
to your neighbour, but is to be extended even to your of love to
enemies : "Ye have heard that it hath been said, £in™S"en
Thou shalt love thy neighbour, and hate thine enemy, to the
But I say unto you, love your enemies, bless them ei
that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and
pray for them which despitefully use you, and perse-
cute you."

The purity and inwardness of His moral teaching is
shown in His opposition to mere outward semblance
and conformity. " Moreover, when ye fast, be not
as the hypocrites, of a sad countenance : for they
disfigure their faces, that they may appear unto
men to fast. . . . But thou, when thou fastest,
anoint thine head, and wash thy face ; that thou
appear not unto men to fast. ..."

Throughout this exalted Sermon, which establishes The Ser-
for all time the dominant position of love as the ™on in"

• -i 1 • 1 - 1 • t - fluenced

chief factor in human relationship and in ethics, there by the
is also established for man the ideal of inner moral £?°g£:ga"

tion to

purity irrespective of outer manifestation and recog- whom it
nition. But, at the same time, we must recognise Pressed.
— as has before this been recognised by so many The poor
impartial critics — that the sermon is essentially meek.
modified, if not directly and completely evoked by,
the character of the audience whom Christ is address-
ing : and by the satisfaction of that very impulse
of charity in Him to comfort and console those fellow-
beings so much in need of comfort and consolation,
the poor and the suffering. It is these whom He wishes
to uplift. To this impulse are to be ascribed the
opening paragraphs not only meant to console, but

236 THE TEACHING OF CHRIST

even to exalt the position of those who are bowed down
and whose worldly fate is that of the unfavoured by
fortune :

" Blessed are the poor in spirit : for theirs is the
kingdom of heaven. Blessed are they that mourn :
for they shall be comforted.

" Blessed are the meek : for they shall inherit the
earth.

" Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after
righteousness : for they shall be filled.

" Blessed are the merciful : for they shall obtain
mercy.

" Blessed are the pure in heart : for they shall see
God.

" Blessed are the peacemakers : for they shall be
called the children of God.

" Blessed are they which are persecuted for right-
eousness' sake : for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

" Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you, and
persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil
against you falsely, for my sake.

" Rejoice, and be exceeding glad : for great is your
reward in heaven : for so persecuted they the prophets
which were before you.

" Ye are the salt of the earth : but if the salt have
lost his savour, wherewith shall it be salted ? It is
thenceforth good for nothing, but to be cast out, and
to be trodden under foot of men.

" Ye are the light of the world. A city that is set
on an hill cannot be hid."

The kingdom of heaven is to belong to those who
are poor both in material wealth and in spirit, not
to the mighty and the prosperous and the leaders of
intelligence.

In His enthusiasm for the lowly life and His
opposition to worldly prosperity, power and riches,
He is carried away to make a positive virtue of the
life which does not bring these ; and His injunction

OPPOSITION TO WEALTH AND POWER 237

is that one should spurn all efforts which lead to such opposi-
prosperity and success, invoking as an example thetlonto
life of nature and the organic beings devoid of intelli- perity,
gence, imagination, forethought, and after-thought. ^Jlth
It is the longing of the romanticists driven by oppo- strength,
sition to the degeneracy of the dominant forms of the
civilisation in their age to the cry of " Back to nature " qualities
and to the simplicity, even unintelligence, of such produce
natural life : these-

" Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth,
where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves
break through and steal :

" But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven,
where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where
thieves do not break through nor steal :

" For where your treasure is, there will your heart
be also.

" The light of the body is the eye : if therefore
thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of
light.

" But if thine eye be evil, thy whole body shall be
full of darkness. If therefore the light that is in thee
be darkness, how great is that darkness !

" No man can serve two masters : for either he
will hate the one, and love the other ; or else he will
hold to the one, and despise the other. Ye cannot
serve God and mammon.

" Therefore I say unto you, take no thought for
your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink :
nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on. Is not
the life more than meat, and the body than raiment ?

" Behold the fowls of the air : for they sow not,
neither do they reap, nor gather into barns, yet your
heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much
better than they ?

" Which of you by taking thought can add one
cubit unto his stature ?

" And why take ye thought for raiment ? Consider
the lilies of the field, how they grow : they toil not,
neither do they spin :

238 THE TEACHING OF CHRIST

" And yet I say unto you, that even Solomon
in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.

" Wherefore, if God so clothed the grass of the
field, which to-day is, and to-morrow is cast into
the oven, shall He not much more clothe you, O ye of
little faith?

" Therefore take no thought, saying, what shall
we eat ? or, What shall we drink ? or, Wherewithal
shall we be clothed ?

" For after all these things do the Gentiles seek :
for your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need
of all these things.

" But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and His
righteousness ; and all these things shall be added
unto you.

" Take therefore no thought for the morrow : for
the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself.
Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof."

CHAPTER IV

THE NEED FOR ETHICAL EVOLUTION IMPLIED IN THE
TEACHING OF CHRIST. PLATO

It is clear that this position in social ethics is directly At vari-
at variance with the moral consciousness of our own ^^^h
age and of almost all the ages representing higher ethics,
civilisation in the past. For, whether we believe in petence,
the right of property or not, whether we admit theindustry>
doctrine of absolute socialism and collectivism or of are soda)
unalloyed individualism and laissez /aire, the econo- virtues-
mical standards obtaining in the world and the
conception of labour which we hold is that they pro-
duce the common measure of value in the form of
wealth individually or collectively ; and that such
labour and such effort cannot be considered bad,
and must be recognised by the approval of society
and the corresponding reward which they receive.
From every point of view it must be admitted that
competence, industry, and thrift are social, as well
as individual virtues. And though society must
guard against the abuses of certain immoral and un-
just developments in definite directions, it must
equally recognise the virtue of competence, industry,
thrift, and forethought. At all events, it cannot extol
those qualities in man and the results arising out of
them which would directly produce their contraries.

It is against this aspect of Christian ethics that so

many thinkers and writers have protested, and that,

in the most violent and uncompromising form,

Nietzsche has hurled his powerful rhetoric and fiery

17 239

240 THE NEED FOR ETHICAL EVOLUTION

invective. The glorification of the incompetent and
of the mentally deficient, leading to the survival of
the unfittest, has led him to maintain that Chris-
tianity had produced the morals for slaves. Still
more is this the case in the attitude which in other
The cult parts of the New Testament, and as a leading feature
body6 °f Christian ethics, is maintained towards the physical
life of man, the cult of the body, the natural instinct
towards physical self-preservation. Not only Nietz-
sche, but the common consciousness of modern man,
revolts against the degradation of the body, and up-
holds its rights and claims to intelligent cultivation ;
they almost establish the sanctity of the body. The
natural instincts are in themselves not bad, but
good ; their claims are just, provided they are main-
tained in due and moral organic proportion. No
instinct is of itself bad, as no earth is unclean ; it
only becomes dirt when " out of place." Instincts
must be controlled and must even be repressed in
accordance with the claims of other instincts, in-
stincts social and moral. In so far the eugenistic
movement is highly moral ; and we are all endeavour-
ing to combat physical degeneration. However
sincere and fervid our sympathies and our consequent
actions in various directions with regard to the mass
of the people, " the labouring classes," the " prole-
tariat," may be, it is definitely directed towards the
betterment of their condition ; and this betterment
implies that we recognise and strive for the best for
man, individual and collective. No champion of
the " proletariat " would venture to draw the logical
conclusion of the exaltation of the conditions of life
which have produced the lowly, the miserable, and
degraded type of individual out of which it is com-
posed, and would maintain that the weak, inefficient,
and unrefined are higher and better than the strong,
the powerful, the intellectually and morally refined.

CHRIST'S REFORM IMPLIES FUTURE REFORMS 241

Christ's Sermon on the Mount and His other teach- Christ's
ings were evoked to meet the formalised abuses of Caching
inefficient moral standards prevailing in His day, aimedata
and of consoling and uplifting those who were bowed tTo^and
down by unjust social conditions and by adversity, natural

(ldvcLricc

And the justification and eternal fitness of such a in ac_
divine impulse was the spirit of true humanity, of "Vjjance
love and charity, which He has brought into the new re-
moral consciousness of man as an essential element ^"T nt

ments 01

of His humanness for all times. Marking, as it does, His age.
an advance in ethical evolution over the older moral the'sam?
code of Moses, it confirms the unquestionable belief need of
in us, that the evolution of man would be retarded future
or directly thwarted if later ages, with essentially ages-
different social conditions, needs and aspirations,
grounded upon centuries of varying physical con-
ditions and of civilisation, did not require supple-
menting and modification in order adequately to
respond to the ethical needs of society. It still further
impresses upon us the conviction, by the very influence
which for so many centuries Christ's teaching has
exercised upon the world, of the need, the absolute
necessity, for the clear and adequate and effective
formulation of the moral standards for successive
ages, so that each age should become clearly conscious
of its own ethical forces, and, allowing them by con-
scious interaction to penetrate effectively the conduct
of individual and collective human life, to prepare
each periodic group in this social evolution for the
progressive establishment of ethical conceptions which
would favour the advance of civilisation and make
of future man and of future society what to their
predecessors would have appeared as the superman
and the society of supermen.

But the adequate expression of the moral conscious-
ness of an age or a people will, from the very nature
of the task, always be most difficult of realisation.

242 THE NEED FOR ETHICAL EVOLUTION

Difficui- To the difficulties of clear apprehension of an in-
tiesmthe tellectual world so delicate and complex, and still
formula- more of clear and convincing expression by means
newmoral °* language must not be added the difficulties inherent
code. in a code destined for people of entirely different
beboutid origin, living under physical conditions so varied from
by the our own, and representing social and intellectual life so
and lan- far removed from that of later ages. Moreover their
guageof jmmeciiate dependence upon, and interpenetration

previous r • , , • i • i

ages. with, religious conceptions and doctrines to which,
in their actual form and in the true meaning which
they had for these alien people of bygone days, so
many of us cannot subscribe and which we even
disbelieve, make the task still more difficult. The
expression of the moral consciousness in the highly
complex conditions of modern life, and the difficulty
of its just and ready application to the infinitely
multiform needs of daily routine, present of them-
selves so arduous and elusive a task that a trans-
lation into less familiar regions of thought essentially
counteracts their effectiveness. Such a clear codi-
fication of the ethical consciousness of each age
cannot therefore be achieved by translation into the
mystical language of bygone ages or thoughts. It
must in every moment be tested by the actualities
of life ; as its own recognition and establishment
must arise out of the most thorough, unbiassed, and
concentrated study of the actual conditions of such
life. In so far it must be absolutely rational : it
must be based on empirical induction, strengthened
by the test of logic ; and cannot be directly sub-
ordinated to the mystical, and often illogical, con-
ditions of purely religious doctrine. Moreover, as
I maintained before, the practical, sober, almost
opportunistic, nature of such social laws, when
interfused with our higher religious aspirations and
our material daily wants and activities can only

FATALISTIC AND CONSCIOUS EVOLUTION 243

tend to rob the religious consciousness and life of
its essentially emotional and its mystically super-
natural elements, which are inseparable from the
truly religious spirit. Nor must such clear and
universally convincing expression of the moral con-
sciousness of each age be put in the literary form
of involved and suggestive maxims. Such vaguer
generalisations, capable of varied interpretation, as
is given by the oriental garb in which Nietzsche has
transferred his principles of individual and social
ethics to the lips of Zarathustra, rob his moral teach-
ing of practical effectiveness.

The first task in this great ethical need of ours The es-
is the establishment of the true facts and data ofments0"f
life, individual and collective, out of which the the facts
ethical consciousness of the age grows and to the 0f modern
needs of which it is to respond. The historical and}ife.asra

DcLsis for

inductive methods, carried on in their purity and ethics,
severity, are to establish the facts of social evolution
and the moral needs which it involves for man to
produce a harmonious adaptation of his life to the
physical and social conditions in which he lives.
But, having recognised this evolution, his ethical
task does not end there ; he must not be a slave to
Fatalistic Evolutionism, which cannot apply to the
intelligent world, to the ethical and social needs of
the "social animal." He must establish Conscious Conscious
Evolution, and must crown his sober, and yet noble, tionism.
induction by the application of his deductive faculties, induc-
his ideal imagination. Here lies the domain, the imagfna-
powerful and just domain, of man's imagination, tion-
which, whatever evidence the eminently successful
inquiries of the great biologists in our age may have
established, remains the distinctive power differen-
tiating man from the rest of the organic world, animal
and vegetable.

Our sober and conscientious induction establishes

244 THE NEED FOR ETHICAL EVOLUTION

Actual the facts with regard to our actions and their motives
™fgQ an and their relation to human society and its needs ;
The ideal our imagination shows us for every act and its motive
Me. an ideal of perfection. Even for every unfulfilled

desire, the realisation of which has never been at-
tempted, and even for those which reason consciously
or subconsciously tells us cannot be realised or
attempted, there is, by implication, an apprehension
of the potential or possible realisation of such desires
in a world unlimited by the incompleteness of hu-
man power. The absurd impulse to transplant our-
selves across the ocean in one moment — nay, to
span the globe — which an unfettered imagination
may suggest, is at once checked and removed from
the sphere of possible desires by rational man. But
the possibilities of such perfect and unlimited power
must be present to the imagination of man, though
he at once realises, by the habitual consciousness of
his own limited organism, that it is not within his
grasp. It exists in his imagination as an idea. This
imagination is regulated and limited — though never
extirpated — by reason and logic. Every act thus
has its ideal ; and the collective acts emanating from
one conscious centre which we call a personality,
or an individual, have their ideal in the perfect man.
Still further, each social group of such individuals,
leading us up to the State and to humanity as a
whole, each have their ideal ; until we come to the
universe and to God, in which the imagination out-
strips more and more our inductive faculty, which
already, through the highest physical and mathe-
matical speculation, transcends the empirical and
rises to pure metaphysics and ends in religion.
Darwin The highest expression of induction and of this
Plato imagination are the intellectual achievements of man
which we call science and art. They represent our
imagination led by the logical and aesthetic faculties ;

PLATO AND DARWIN 245

and these together, when turned to the life of man,
lead to ethics and establish the laws of conduct. The
scientific side of ethics leads to the adaptation of
the human organism to the surrounding conditions
of nature and the inter-relation of man in his social
and political organisation ; the aesthetic side of
ethics enables him to realise and to project before
his consciousness the most perfect image for man's
activities on the basis of logic and truth with which
science has provided him. To use two personal
types from the actual history of past thought : the
principle upon which the adequate and efficient
codification of ethics should be based to meet the
needs of our present life and to fulfil the hopes of
future progressive generations (while never discarding,
but emphatically embodying, the lasting principles
of Mosaic and Christian ethics) is to be the mental
fusion of Darwin and Plato. Mere induction, fatal-
istic evolutionism, as applied to man's conscious life,
can never lead us to a true ethical code. Pure
idealism, even when based upon the highest religion
— nay, because of its very transcendental character
— cannot respond to the actual needs of terrestrial
life and human society, and cannot control the potent
currents of man's instincts and passions, nor even
the instincts and passions of wider social groups and
of political bodies.

It is, therefore, that, besides Moses and Christ, I Platonic
have added the third great mental type in the history ideali3in«
of human thought, namely, Plato. I do not propose
to enter into the minute problems of Plato's theory
of Ideas, nor is this essential to my purpose. Nor
do I wish to inquire into the fact of how far Plato
himself, or his followers, recognised the objective,
almost material existence, of such ideas. The whole
mediaeval question of Nominalism and Realism does
not affect us. Whether the ideas have an actual

246 THE NEED FOR ETHICAL EVOLUTION

" objective " existence or not, Plato's philosophy
has confirmed for all times their actual existence in
the human mind. It is with the effect (as their
conscious realisation in our mind), which such ideas
and ideals have in regulating our thoughts and our
actions, that we are here concerned. These thoughts
and actions, however, are based upon — saturated
with — the inductive realisation of the facts of human
life, as scientific and historical experience convey
them to us. Evolution made conscious is to become
a force directing mankind in its ethical progress to-
wards a more perfect state, both as regards individual
man and human society. Plato, for us, thus means
Rational and Practical Idealism, neither retrospective
nor mystical, neither romantic nor Utopian, but
idealism all the same, which will safeguard the
progress of mankind.

CHAPTER V

PLATONIC IDEALISM APPLIED TO ETHICAL EVOLUTION.
THE ETHICS OF THE FUTURE

Before attempting to indicate the general outline
and character which the codification of our ethical
system will require, I should like to premise two
isolated instances and experiences, the direct applic-
ability of which to the main question before us may
not be so evident, but of which in due course I shall
illustrate the bearings.

The second instance I wish to premise has a very Episo-
different, if not almost the opposite bearing to the first, s^nce1"
The first instance is meant to show the possibilities, uiustrat-
by means of the creation of favourable material con- educa-
ditions and of direct education, of the moral andbility°*

the

intellectual improvement to which the less favoured masses,
classes, including even the unskilled and illiterate
labourer may attain. I can vouch for the absolute
truth of this statement, free from all exaggeration,
from personal experience.

The Gilchrist Educational Trust has for many
years provided lectures for the labouring classes of
Great Britain and Ireland which, by intelligent and
careful management on the part of the trustees and
secretaries, have won for themselves a popularity
which ensures for every Gilchrist lecturer in every
part of the United Kingdom huge audiences. They
consist almost exclusively of working men and
women, the average attendance being about 15 per

347

248 THE ETHICS OF THE FUTURE

cent, of the inhabitants of every town or village where
these lectures are held. The lowest number of
attendants that I can remember would be between
four and five hundred : while a single lecturer has
often had as many as five thousand. The lectures
are held in the largest room available, from the drill
halls and exhibition halls to the crowded schoolrooms,
or, where no such public places are to be found, in
chapels. The entrance fee is one penny per lecture,
and not infrequently the tickets are sold out at once
and admittance has had to be refused to large numbers.
These audiences consist of miners, mill-hands, and
factory-hands in the various industrial districts,
from Scotland to Land's End, from the west to the
east coast, and have also included fishermen and
agricultural labourers from fishing villages and
agricultural districts, in which the same eagerness
to learn has shown itself. Moreover, this desire is
seen most markedly in the fact that, whereas every
lecturer of experience will admit that the attention
of the more highly educated audiences elsewhere can
hardly be held for more than an hour, these Gilchrist
audiences are not satisfied with less than one hour
and a quarter, and will often willingly sit through
a longer period. The absolute stillness and the keen
responsiveness of these men and women are most
remarkable and exceptional. The Gilchrist lecturers
are not of the type of the popular lecturer, but are
generally themselves leading authorities and specialists
in their own subject. The most successful Gilchrist
lecturers have been men like Huxley and Sir Robert
Ball. Not only science in all its branches has thus
been brought before these large audiences of labouring
men, but they have even been introduced into the
higher realms of literature and art. It is an un-
deniable fact that thousands of these roughest
colliers and miners, sitting in rapt attention, often

EDUCABILITY OF THE MASSES 249

with their caps on, for well over an hour, have been
made to appreciate not only history and poetry —
even the poetry of Robert Browning properly read
and explained to them — but also the sublime beauty
of Greek art more than two thousand years old,
presented to them in lantern illustrations by the
fragmentary remains of the Parthenon sculptures ;
and this interest and appreciation have been sincere
and lasting. That it has been possible to lead men,
with but scanty preparation in elementary education,
whose usual form of relaxation and amusement,
when not confined to the public-house, has been a
fight between bull terriers, to appreciate the highest
forms of art, which are generally supposed to be the
exclusive birthright of the most highly educated
portion of the community, furnishes undeniable
encouragement to those who believe in the power
of social legislation and such forms of education which
tend to the advancement of the moral, intellectual,
and artistic side of human nature.

The second incident, the bearing of which, as will Episo-
perhaps readily be seen, is upon the general question d^alin"
of social improvement for the great mass of the uiustrat-
people, and concerns the fundamental point of view J-entraf
in which this question of betterment is opposed, view of
with exaggerated emphasis, to the prevailing attitude e°oiu-°US
held chiefly by the professed socialists and by those tionin
who publicly or privately are concerned in the work and of
of social reform. I here give it in the words of the axis^°'

crane
narrator himself : demo-

cracy in

"Though suffering from a temporary breakdown politlC8,
in health, I had promised the organisers of the Summer
Extension Meeting in my University to give the
opening address in one section of their courses of
lectures. They were all addressed to widely varied
audiences of students from all over England, as
well as from foreign countries, who flocked to these

250 THE ETHICS OF THE FUTURE

centres to acquire some of the learning which a
University can give them. My condition in accepting
the invitation to open the course of lectures was,
that I would do this if I was at the time within two
hundred miles, and only in case an eminent colleague
of mine, the late Sir Richard Jebb, was unable to do
so. It turned out that my colleague was thus
prevented. I, on the other hand, after a rest-cure
in the Black Forest, was completing my further cure
at one of the other German watering-places several
hundred miles distant from my University. Never-
theless, I decided to fulfil my promise, to interrupt
my cure, to travel direct to England, deliver the
lecture, and to return to Germany to continue my
cure the very next day.

" I had settled myself comfortably in a first-class
carriage which, moreover, I fortunately found empty,
with sufficient reading material and every other
comfort, when, on arriving at Cologne, I found the
railway station crowded with people all anxious
to enter the express bound for England. The
numbers were so great that second and even first
class carriages had to be filled with many third-class
passengers. There rushed into my compartment
five men with much hand luggage, who filled every
available seat and who at once began noisily to take
possession of the carriage, and not only ostentatiously
made themselves at home in every way — but pro-
ceeded to eat and drink in a manner which was far
from attractive. A coarse-faced German of the
aggressive half Teuton, half Slav type of labouring
men, flat-faced and brutal in features, took out his
sausage and cheese, cut them into largish squares
with his clasp-knife, and ate with ostentatious
appetite. Though I endeavoured not to show my
displeasure at this incursion upon my comfort, I soon
felt, emanating from my five fellow-travellers, an
atmosphere of antagonism to me, which was made
still more noticeable by their remarks in German, a
language which they evidently thought I did not
understand.

" I soon discovered that they were delegates to

ARISTODEMOCRACY 251

the Great Socialist Congress about to be held in
London, and it was equally clear that they looked
upon me as a blatant and luxurious bourgeois, if
not capitalistic aristocrat, the embodied representa-
tive of all the principles which they held in odium
and the personal type most antagonistic to them-
selves. It was also manifest that they rather enjoyed
my discomfiture. But the conversation grew more
and more interesting, especially owing to the part
taken by one member of the party, whose physiog-
nomy and manner, as well as the acuteness of thought
and wide range of knowledge displayed in well-chosen
and beautiful German, were in strong contrast to
the remarks of his companions. He was sallow-faced
and had dark hair, with a well-cut, thin aquiline nose,
and luminous dark eyes — the superior and refined
Semitic type, strongly contrasted to the more vulgar
Teutonic and Slav type of the others. As I after-
wards learnt, he was one of the leading socialist
delegates from Saxony.

" As the conversation continued, an irrepressible
desire arose in me to take part in it — incidentally to
correct their misapprehension as to my own nature
and principles, and to punish them for the injustice
they had done to me, and through me to my kind,
and finally, perhaps, to do some good through these
leaders of socialist thought, by correcting some of
their views. Still more there arose in me a certain
humorous and paradoxical mood, perhaps not entirely
free from a sense of superiority and mastery in the
very sphere which they professed as exclusively their
own. This mood was in some respects akin to the
irony of Mephistopheles when dealing with the
school- boy.

" When at last the opportunity offered itself in the
course of the discussion, I cut in with exaggerated
quiet and simplicity of manner, apologising for my
intrusion, and, in the course of my remarks, lightly
threw in with unaltered naturalness and simplicity :
1 As my late friend Karl Marx often said . . .' The
effect was most startling, as if a bomb-shell had
exploded amongst them. They all eagerly turned to

252 THE ETHICS OF THE FUTURE

me and shouted : ' What, you knew Karl Marx ?
And he was a friend of yours ? ' I answered in the
same quiet tone, unmoved by their almost passionate
eagerness : ' Oh yes, even a Dutz-freund ' (an intimate
friend to whom in Germany one says ' thou ' instead
of ' you ').

" I must here explain that in my young days,
when I was little more than a boy, about 1877, the
eminent Russian legal and political writer, since
become a prominent member of the Duma, Professor
Kovalevsky, whom I had met at one of G. H. Lewes
and George Eliot's Sunday afternoon parties in
London, had introduced me to Karl Marx, then living
in Hampstead. I had seen very much of this founder
of modern theoretic socialism, as well as of his most
refined wife {nee von Westphal) ; and, though he
had never succeeded in persuading me to adopt
socialist views, we often discussed the most varied
topics of politics, science, literature, and art. Besides
learning much from this great man, who was a mine
of deep and accurate knowledge in every sphere, I
learnt to hold him in high respect and to love the
purity, gentleness, and refinement of his big heart.
He seemed to find so much pleasure in the mere fresh-
ness of my youthful enthusiasm and took so great an
interest in my own life and welfare, that one day he
proposed that we should become Dutz-freunde , and
I still possess one of his photographs on which he has
thus addressed me.

" But the effect of this revelation upon these wor-
shippers of Karl Marx was so intense and instan-
taneous that, from that moment, they hung upon my
lips and showed humble regard and keen interest.
The conversation grew more and more interesting,
and I was especially attracted by the personality of
the Saxon deputy, towards whom, do what I would
to include the others, my own conversation was
chiefly addressed.

" Before we parted, however, I decided to have
the main question out in a most direct and personal
form. I then openly returned to the incidents of
our trip from the moment they had entered the

ARISTODEMOCRACY 253

carriage and charged them with having assumed
that I was their natural enemy, was no friend of the
people, and that they had monopolised all the love
for mankind and the sympathy with human suffering ;
that I was one of those selfish, self-indulgent, luxurious
capitalists who battened on the misery of the poor
worker. They had to admit that I was right.

" ' Well then,' I continued, ' let us compare notes.
Who are you, and who am I ? What are you doing,
and what am I doing ? ' I then gave them truth-
fully a sketch of my own life and activities, and ended
by telling them the mission on which I was engaged
at that moment, and the peculiar conditions under
which I was fulfilling the definite task which I had
undertaken.

" When I had finished my account they turned
to me and said : ' But you are one of us. You are
a socialist, whatever you may say. There can be no
difference between us.' And my Saxon friend con-
tinued : ■ You may say what you will, in Germany
you would be considered a socialist, merely from your
attitude and action towards the working classes, and
those in power would force you into our ranks ; for
there would be no room for you in any other party.
You, at all events, not only love the people, but you
have faith in them.'

" My answer to him was : ' You are right in your
last remark, but you are all wrong if you think that
I am at one with you socialists, and that there is no
difference between us.' And here I felt driven,
perhaps by an oratorical impulse, to make my point
doubly clear through paradoxical exaggeration of the
difference between us, putting this difference in an
almost brutal form.

" ' The difference between us, in spite of my love
for the people and my faith in them, is that I think
it more important for the world that one man should
be made ein feiner Mensch, should be made more
refined, than that hundreds, nay perhaps even thou-
sands, of ordinary men should have more food to eat
than they have at present. I believe that, in all
prosperous and civilised communities, every man

254 THE ETHICS OF THE FUTURE

should have the right to live and even the right to
work. I also hold that much will have to be done by
direct legislation to check the power of capitalism in
finance and in the other forms of manipulation of
capital, which lead to that excessive accumulation in
the hands of individuals, giving them an unbounded
power in public life without corresponding responsi-
bilities ; — that such accumulation of capital in single
hands is " against good policy."

" ' I am thus, perhaps, a socialist at the bottom and
the top. But I am an absolute individualist in
between. Now, having made this concession, I think
it more important for me that, by whatever work I
am able to do, I should continue to develop, if not in
man in general, at all events in certain men, those
higher spiritual attainments, the totality of which
constitutes a higher human being and produces a higher
community, and ultimately a higher type of mankind,
than that which our own days present. These higher
and more refined men are to be the leaders of man-
kind ; and, by their work, impersonal and indirect
as well as personal and direct, they are to draw into
their higher circle whoever from the mass of the
proletariat is capable of such advancement : and by
this constant action and reaction (Wechselwirkung)
the whole of the proletariat, the mass of the people,
is to be raised.

" ' But, mark you, these higher individuals are to
be the leaders. Let me tell you that Karl Marx was
not out of sympathy with this view, even in its nega-
tive attitude as regards the claims of the lower
orders ; and it was he who was fond of quoting those
verses of your great Goethe from his ' West-ostliche
Divan ' on the presentation to a lady of a small
bottle containing attar of roses.' I then recited,
over the din of the train, Goethe's verses. They
clustered round me, their heads eagerly bent forward
while they listened. I can still see the eyes of the
flat-faced Slav Prussian, whose way of eating had
at first repelled me, close to mine. Their limpid
brightness was soon dedimmed by tears evoked by
the melody of the verses.

ARISTODEMOCRACY 255

Au Suleika 1

Dir tnit Wohlgeruch zu kosen,

Deine Freuden zu erhohn,
Knospend mussen tausend Rosen

Erst in Gluthen untergehn.

Um tin Fl&schchen zu besitzen,

Das den Ruch auf evuig halt,
Schlank voie deine Finger spitzen,

Da bedarf es einer Welt.

Einer Welt von Lebenstrieben,

Die in ihrer Fulle Drang
Ahndeten schon Bulbuls Lieben,

Seelerregenden Gesang.

Sollte jene Qual uns qudlen,

Da sie unsre Lust vermehrt ?
Hat nicht Myriaden Seelen

Timur's Herrschaft aufgezehrt?

11 ' The action of consistent socialism, with which I
am entirely out of sympathy, is lowering, not only to
the strong, good, wise, and great individual ; but it

1 I must subjoin this imperfect translation of an untranslatable lyric :

Thee to woo with perfume sweetest,

And thy love to cherish,
Blossoming, one thousand roses,

Glowing, had to perish.

Thus to give a graceful phial.

E'er to hold the scent,
Slim and tapering like thy fingers,

A whole world was spent.

A whole world of living forces,

Striving full and long,
Prescient of Bulbul's loving

And soul-stirring song.

Why then grieve at loss and sorrow

Which increase our joy ?
Doth not myriad souls of living

Timur's rule destroy ?

18

256

THE ETHICS OF THE FUTURE

is also lowering to mankind as a whole, and gives no
hope of an advance towards the ideals which man as
man must form for the future. In so far I am your
enemy, and we are opponents.'

" The Saxon deputy thoughtfully shook his head,
and said : ' Well, there is much to be said for your
point of view, but you must allow me to refuse to be
your enemy, and to hope that you will be our
friend.' "

The ab-
sence of
proper
moral
teaching.

The

specialist
philo-
sopher.

We have seen — and, because of the vital importance
to the main purpose of this book, I have repeated the
statement more than once — the crying need for
what I have called the codification of contemporary
morals, or at least the clear and intelligible (intelli-
gible even to the average man) expression of the
moral consciousness of each age and each country.
The great need in this respect has hitherto been that
the treatment of ethical subjects in the hands of the
philosopher-specialist in ethics has almost exclu-
sively been concerned with the discussion of the main
or abstract principles and foundations of ethics, the
mere prolegomena to ethical teaching which should
be of direct practical use as a guide to conduct. Such
practical and efficient guidance to conduct and teaching
of morality has generally been by means of ephemeral
or casual moral injunction on the part of the priests
of every denomination. It thus not only received
a sectarian or dogmatic bias — often causing the
whole moral structure to collapse when the founda-
tions of belief in these dogmas were no longer valid
for the person thus instructed — or, in any case,
introducing the element of mysticism and the need
for translation into the remote language of bygone
ages, races, or conditions of life, and thus making
more difficult the arduous task of applying clear
principles of action to the complicated exigencies of

THE CODIFICATION OF MORALS 257

actual and present life, on the clear understanding of
which such principles ought to be based.

Furthermore, the cognisance which the State has The
hitherto taken of this paramount factor in the life e*
of the people and the direct action which the State
has taken, has generally been confined to that aspect
of " Social Legislation " chiefly or exclusively con-
cerned in counteracting extreme poverty and social
inefficiency and the evil results arising out of these,
again chiefly from a purely economical point of view.
The State has not directly considered the positive
moral and social betterment of the conditions of life
and living and of the people themselves, nor directly
aimed at the highest conceivable goal for social
improvement.

The most crying need before us, therefore, is the
clear recognition of such an expression of the moral
consciousness of the age, and, without any interfer-
ence with the established religious creeds and their
practices as the expression of religious life, to provide
for, first, such an expression of our moral require-
ments, and, secondly, for the effective dissemination of
contemporary ethics throughout all layers of human
society.

The action of the State in this respect must be The
directly educational, and this educational function tJJJJJ"
must be concerned, first, with the young and their action of
lives, and, secondly, with the adult population and e e'
its life.

However limited the time set aside in schools for Moral
the teaching of ethics may be, certain hours should SS^fL
thus be devoted to the teaching of morals. The text- the
book of such elementary ethics should, above all, beyoung"
clear and concise, and must contain those moral The ele-
injunctions which would be universally accepted by ™®n^ary
all right-thinking people within the nation and books of
admitted by every religious sect or creed. The morals*

258 THE ETHICS OF THE FUTURE

teachers themselves should be provided with ex-
planatory additions to the text-books, containing or
suggesting instances from actual life which should
convincingly illustrate each moral injunction from
the short text-book in the hands of the pupils. Of
course, it will be left to the well-qualified teacher to
increase and to enlarge upon such definite and illu-
minating examples. Even the question of moral
casuistry — the conflict or clashing of the various
duties — are to be definitely treated.
Episode Though I cannot attempt the actual production of
casSstry suc^ a text-book here, and can only discuss the
general principles upon which it should be based and
carried into effect, I may yet touch upon some of
the difficulties of moral casuistry without entering
too fully into problems which in all ages have led to
interminable discussion. The way to deal with such
moral casuistics is the purely positive, and not the
negative method. By that I mean that one valid
moral injunction is not eliminated by the fact of its
clashing with another. Each one remains valid ;
though at times reason and the application of a
general sense of justice and proportion may have to
decide whether the one injunction is not stronger
than the other. " Thou shalt not lie " retains its
validity, even though " Thou shalt not endanger the
life and the permanent happiness of another " may
lead the physician or the friend for the nonce to tell
an untruth to an insane person or an invalid when
the truth would undermine life or life's efficiency.
A practical moral test can always be transmitted
to the pupil, in bringing him conscientiously to ask
himself whether, imagining that when the cause which
led him to tell such an untruth or to commit an
infraction of an ethical law is removed, he would be
prepared to lay before the person to whom he told
the untruth or to independent and disinterested people

TREATMENT OF ETHICAL QUESTIONS 259

whom he respects, the course of action which he had
pursued.

That such moral casuistry presents many diffi-
culties is undeniable. But who has ever assumed, or
had any right to assume, that life can be lived with-
out difficulties ? Which one of the studies of science
or art or human learning is free from complications
and almost unsurmountable difficulties which open
the door to doubt and scepticism ? Are we there-
fore not to include even mathematics and the natural
sciences, history, and all other studies in our educa-
tional system, because such difficulties exist ?

The several aspects under which ethical questions
are to be treated in this elementary form, and which
I shall further discuss, are :

1 . Duty to the family ;

2. Duty to the immediate community in which
we live, and social duties ;

3. Duty to the State ;

4. Duty to humanity ;

5. Duty to self ;

6. Duty to things and actions as such ; and

7. Duty to God.

Of course I must here assume that the school- The posi-
masters entrusted with such a task are of high in- efficiency
tellectual capacity, well prepared and qualified by of the
superior education, the very highest which each 0f ethics,
country can give. Here, again, lies one of the most
important and crying needs of reform. With great
readiness — not always sincere — the political repre-
sentatives of the people will, on the platform at public
meetings, recognise and fervently uphold the supreme
claims of national education. But how many are
prepared to carry such professions into effect, and to
insist that this is perhaps the most important function
of national life ? To educate the young requires in
the teachers themselves, as instruments of supreme

260 THE ETHICS OF THE FUTURE

precision, the most complete preparation for this

important and delicate task.
All No teachers who are directly, as well as indirectly,

ought6 to to influence the youth of the nation, however ele-
have the mentary the immediate subject which they are to
univer- teach even to the youngest, are properly qualified,
sitY . unless they have had the opportunity of attaining

training. . . . . . • • , . . ..,,

to the highest culture which the age can give. The
most elementary teacher ought to have had all the
advantages of the highest university instruction, and
to have been brought to the level of grasping and of
assimilating the highest mental and moral achieve-
ments of the age. We might almost say — and it is
not purely paradoxical to say this — that in con-
sideration of the fact that in the earliest stages of
childhood are laid the foundation of the indestructible
and ineradicable elements of character and intelli-
gence, the training of the elementary teacher is of
the highest importance, in order to make him or her,
in their mentality and whole personality, completely
representative of the best which the age can give.
Teachers, Were the State and the public to recognise this
mentary they would be driven to admit that, from the econo-
teachers, mical point of view, as well as from that of social
receive° recognition and reward, those entrusted with the
compara- most important and valuable functions in our national

tively

high pay life ought to receive higher remuneration and the
and social marks 0f greater public distinction directly by the

recogm- . .

tion were Government and indirectly in the market which
up to the6 determines values, than the work of the financier or
true stan- the successf ul promoter and most of those functions
our be°- m modern life which now receive the highest remunera-
ted, tion and distinction. But such is the insincerity,
the flagrant contradiction of our true inner beliefs
and convictions and our admitted and persistent
activity in the common life of the present, that this
statement of mine would be received by most of my

TEACHERS OF ETHICS IN SCHOOLS 261

readers with a smile of compassionate and patronising
incredulity and doubt which, at most, admitting its
truth in an ideal world, would deny the possibility
of its realisation in this actual world of ours and
would stamp the temerity of all who should con-
template the possibility of carrying such principles
into practical life as indicative of the unbalanced
mind of the fantastic visionary. But history has
proved again and again that truth may be delayed
but cannot be suppressed for ever. True ideas are
the only things in the life of man which last ; and,
as the machinery of State is improved and simplified
so that it can with readiness eliminate abuses and
inaugurate improvements, the public will find ways
and means to carry into effect what is clearly recog-
nised as being most essential to its ultimate interest.

Beside this direct teaching of ethics in schools and Educa-
households, there remains another province, less ^^ansPof
directly bearing upon moral life, but most important the re-
in its contributory effect to it. This is the other gl^of
side of the two-fold division of our conscious life, the hfe-
one of which is our life of work. It concerns our ductionof
life of play, the recreative or more passive side of *ffijf*
our existence. It is commonly and generally believed, vating
by those responsible for the education of the young ™e^ltal
— parents and schoolmasters — that they are only physical
concerned with the serious aspect of existence, the practices,
preparation for the working side of life, efficiency and
duty. The importance of these in our educational
system is beyond all question. But it must be
equally undoubted that the proper regulation of the
recreative side in the life of the young — and of the
adult population as well — is of equal importance.
Many unwise parents and teachers often think that
the instinct for recreation, play and pleasure, is of
itself so strong, so constantly potent and effective,
in the young, that it is their chief duty to repress it,

262 THE ETHICS OF THE FUTURE

The result is, as in the case of any natural force which
is unduly repressed until it finds vent in spontaneous
combustion through its inherent energy, that the
irrepressible and ineradicable instincts rightly existing
in man's nature, which are thus unduly checked,
seek for and find expression in violent and detrimental
forms, destructive to society as well as to the health
and refinement of the individual. This side of youth-
ful nature must not only not be ignored, but it must
be consciously cultivated. The instincts which make
for " play " are to be led into channels, without
interference and pedantry (which rob them of their
very essence), in which they lend to healthy, elevating
and refining forms, adding to strength of character
refinement of taste. The recreative and leisure hours
are to be filled with forms of interests and amuse-
ments increasing physical health as well as moral,
intellectual, and social refinement.
Even in Though the great and lasting advantage to the
ingtJJ©!* development of a sense of duty in the young to be
tion, derived from the concentration upon each task, the

wliicli

aims at struggle with difficulties, and the repression of all
mental forms of self-indulgence, is one of the most important
and results of school work, discipline and study, the
strength bearing which these studies have upon the recreative
the ' side of human nature, the life of play, must never
thTcrea- ^e ^ost sight of. It cannot in any way diminish
tiveside the great advantages which the teaching of every
positively department of human knowledge thus has upon the
con- development of the sense of duty, to aim at producing
and by such teaching a new intellectual interest which

furthered. WOuld respond to, and satisfy, the sense for play,
recreation itself, and increase the moral and in-
tellectual resourcefulness of man from his earliest
age onwards, so that he can find joy and refreshment
in such pursuits and such thoughts that will lie out-
side of the direct sphere of his productive working

EDUCATIONAL REFORM 263

existence in after life. Above all, the love of thought,
of knowledge, and of art in itself must be stimulated
as a result of the direct teaching from the elementary-
school up to the university.

These are the broad outlines of the duties of the
State as regards the education of the young in securing
the moral health of a nation.

But, as regards the adult population as well, the Educa-
State has the duty directly to provide for, and to JjjJiSiuit
stimulate and satisfy, the need for higher education, popuia-
It does this by directly producing or supporting the tlon'
higher institutions of culture, be they universities or
other institutions, for the purest and highest research
in science or schools of art in every form, including,
of course, musical and dramatic art — in one word,
in all that immediately responds to culture, i.e. the
cultivation of things of the mind for their own sake.

Still more direct in its bearing upon ethics is the The
moral example of the State itself. Truthfulness to Sample
word and deed, justice without compromise, must of the
apply to every public function and enactment of the au^ffidai
State. This applies to war as well as to peace. The action,
lasting degradation, if not total inhibition, of morality
expressed by the commonly accepted saying that
" All is fair in war " is perhaps one of the greatest
evils to mankind which war brings in its wake. But
in time of peace, any miscarriage of justice on the
part of the State has an effect detrimental to the moral
consciousness of every citizen in that State, out of
all proportion to the individual wrong which it causes.
Still more insidious and solvent of the public moral
fibre is the cynical attitude which many departments
of the administration actually put into practice.
There are cases on record in which individuals or
public bodies have desisted from carrying on a law-
suit against the State because of the disparity of
pecuniary means between themselves and the endless

264 THE ETHICS OF THE FUTURE

resources of the administration from whom they seek
justice and equity. The " law's delay," as applied
to many a public servant or private civilian, has kept
them from urging their just claims ; and they have
ended in resigning themselves to bear unfairness with
a sense of injustice against the State. Moreover, the
practice in several departments, such as that of
customs and public revenue, of not rectifying an undue
payment until a claim is made and persistently
demanded by the individual, the fact that no obli-
gation is felt by such departments to point out an
error made in their favour and against the interests
of individual citizens, and perhaps even inquisitorial
methods and activities which do not come, and are
not meant to come, directly to the cognisance of the
citizen affected by them — all this impresses a lowness
of moral standard on the part of the collective power
of the people, to which they look for authority and
guidance, which is most lowering to the morals of the
whole nation.
We must It is thus by less tangible and far vaguer influences
ha that ^at morality is affected and modified, if not pro-
ethical duced. And we must therefore always bear in mind,
tcTbe118' even when considering the direct teaching of ethical
effective, principles in homes and at schools, for which I have
through just pleaded, that the efficient result of moral teach-
charac- mg; differing to some extent in this from the teaching
of any skill of hand or pliability and accuracy of
mind, cannot be so direct and directly applied. In
order to be effective, it must pass through the whole
character of man, produce an ethos, a general moral
emotional state, which will lead him to become a moral
being and to act morally. Nevertheless, to attain
this end, the actual apprehension of what are the
moral laws of the society in which he lives, is at some
stage of his education and training to be clearly
established and presented, so that ultimately these

INDIRECT TEACHING OF ETHICS 265

laws may permeate his whole being and make him
spontaneously feel and act as a moral social being.

Finally, there are two facts of great practical im-
portance to be borne in mind when the actual teaching
of ethics is considered.

The one is, that the teacher of ethics need in no
way be a specialist in ethical theory or manifestly
and obviously by profession a pattern and model of
higher life in himself. After all, every parent must
be a teacher of morals. The theory of ethics
requires scientific treatment in no way differing in
method and concentration from the theoretical study
of any other group of phenomena. Such theoretical
study does not of necessity fit the specialist for the
practical application of theory to actual life and to
the education of young and old in accordance with
theory. Moreover, professed or specialised philan-
thropy or a life corresponding to mystical religious
emotionality are very trying to the mental and
moral balance and health of their votaries. Clergy-
men of the " Pontifex " type are warning instances
of the moral obliquity, if not degeneracy, to which
a life based on dogmatic supernatural principles,
removed from the healthy versatility of normal life,
may lead.

The other is, that, especially with the young, the
conception of Sin is as far as possible to be withheld,
and that ethics are to be inculcated with a bright and
joyful outlook in the positive aspect of right actions
and of ideals of perfection towards which man is to
strive. We must teach positive and joyful, not nega-
tive and comminatory, morals.

PART IV

OUTLINE OF THE PRINCIPLES OF CON-
TEMPORARY ETHICS

(a) MAN'S DUTIES AS A SOCIAL BEING
CHAPTER I

DUTY TO THE FAMILY

No other I have in several of the preceding passages already
unTtTcan dealt with the moral position of the family as regards
replace its efficient training from the very earliest days
family, onward in the intimate life of the home. It is here
that our training in intellectual and moral altruism
is most effectively realised. As a social unit, forming
and developing conditions most conducive to the social
welfare of all the larger bodies of human society, it
cannot be replaced. When once the strictly vital
principles and practices which establish the hard-
and-fast privileges of definite classes simply by the
fact of birth have been discarded, the continuous
influence of the family in our own days, and pros-
pectively on the future advancement of society, is
undoubtedly good. The feudal principle (by which
I mean privileges established by birth) did not
consider qualifications and efficiency for the social
and political functions which its privileges gave ;
while, on the other hand, it directly offended man's
sense of justice, and can therefore not be supported
by any society based upon reason and morality. On

266

CONTINUOUS EFFECT OF THE HOME 267

the other hand, the continuity of collective effort, its effect
which with such forcefulness makes itself felt in every d^ng*
member of a collective group, achieves results for the continu-
good of the State and in consequence receives recog- moral
nition and honour. The family as a social unit in fesponsi-
the State is of the greatest use in advancing the The
public welfare. No reasonable person can deny the home-
moral effect upon the individual and its ultimate
influence upon society at large to be made to realise
constantly, with more or less complete consciousness,
the effect of every single act and of the totality of
life-work, not only upon oneself, but upon all the
members of a household and a family who by physical
propinquity and moral interdependence are directly
concerned in the results of man's every act. There
is many a loophole through which we can escape from
the performance of our more remote duties ; but
family life offers no such escape ; and hence arises
the revolt against this institution as a whole on the
part of those speculative self-deceivers, coquetting
with philosophical generalisations to hide from them-
selves and others the all-pervading impulse of self-
indulgence thwarted by the stern persistency of
domestic duties, be they frivolous pleasure-seekers
or philanthropic Mrs. Jellabys. Moreover, even those
possessed of the dullest imagination can be stirred
into projecting the result of their actions into the
future, even beyond their own individual life, by the
contemplation of the lives of the children who are to
succeed them. The home as a lasting unit of private
property, and the family, as a social entity, are, among
all the possible groups of human institutions, perhaps
the most effective in giving the stamp of wider,
unegoistic, and hence more social, motive and guidance
to human activity. To make this home not only
directly responsive to the physical needs of the
family, but also, whether cottage or palace, expres-

268 DUTY TO THE FAMILY

sive of the best that is in the family, as beautiful as
taste can make it, is of itself undeniably good. To
curb the impulse to squander one's substance on
drink in the public-house, or on yachts or racehorses
in order that wife and children may be benefited
materially, morally and intellectually ; and, even
beyond this, to create, by such sacrifice of personal
self-indulgence, conditions which should favour the
existence and the improvement of the home and its
occupants after one's own death, are surely guides
to conduct which directly lead to the future improve-
ment of society as a whole. To summarise these
considerations in one simple and concrete, yet typical,
instance : to plant a tree in a cottage garden or a
park, which he who plants can never hope to see in
full maturity, but with clear consciousness realises
that he is planting for his children and children's
children, cannot be considered selfish or unsocial by
any right-thinking or public-spirited man. To what-
ever development in the future the tendencies towards
collectivism and State ownership may lead, the
justification of individual property, not only in its
intrinsic morality, but from the social — even the
socialistic — point of view, is greater in the case of
the cottage with its garden and the country house
with its park, than in the share of the capital in any
industrial enterprise or state security.1
Family Not only, however, in this aspect of the family
onour. ancj t^e Yi0me is its influence to be found. It is also
to be found in a less apparent, yet directly moral and
social, aspect — none the less effective in its moral
bearing through thus being less evident. In this
aspect the family, considered as a unit, places upon
each member a responsibility and a duty to the family
as a whole with regard to his conduct, character
and position which the individual member of a

1 See Appendix IV.

FAMILY HONOUR 269

family establishes towards the outer world. In one
word, this point of view is concerned with family
honour. I shall have occasion to touch on this
complicated, though most important, moral factor
in dealing with man's duty to society and his duty
to self. Here, again, the continuous and intimate
relationship of people to one another cannot be re-
placed, as regards its constraining effectiveness, by
any consideration of wider, vaguer and less persistent
social relationships. In so far the educative and
disciplinary influence of the family is supreme, and,
I repeat again, that if the injustice and irrationality
of the direct privileges of birth handed on from the
Middle Ages be eliminated, this educative and dis-
ciplinary influence is wholly for the good of society
and its advancement in the future. To know that
you are not only injuring yourself and justly lowering
your own reputation by dishonest or mean actions
or even by self-indulgent idleness and thriftlessness,
but that your conduct immediately affects, not only
the welfare of the home and the physical existence
of those who dwell in it, and further, that it tarnishes
the family honour — such consciousness is surely
conducive to the good of society. On the other
hand, to know and to realise, while making any noble
effort, that not only joy is brought to those who are
nearest and dearest, but that by such effort family
honour is assured and elevated, is one of the noblest
incentives to moral effort, constantly present in
the minds and lives of even the average human
being of untrained and lowly imagination. And
when, beyond this, the imagination is stirred to
realise that even after death the honour of the family
will survive, and that the children and children's
children will look back with pride and gratitude to
the moral integrity, the intellectual achievement
and the successful energy of their parents and grand-

270 DUTY TO THE FAMILY

parents, an effective incentive to good social action
is provided which can hardly be replaced by any other
motive, and can at least not be condemned as either
harmful or ignoble. The realisation of these moral
factors emanating from the family, includes in the
practice of life the establishment of a definite group
of duties which can be formulated and must be
modified by the moral consciousness of each age in
their relation to other duties. The first keynote is
struck by the Fifth Commandment, with which I
have dealt above ; but this must be enlarged upon
and formulated so as to serve as a definite practical
guide to conduct, and must therefore include the
several duties of the various members of a family to
each other and to the family as a whole.

CHAPTER II

DUTY TO THE COMMUNITY AND TO SOCIETY THE ART

OF LIVING THE IDEAL OF THE GENTLEMAN

We have dealt with the duties to the family ; but Necessity
man's duties do not end here, as little as the just gre^s?on
impulse to self-advancement frees him from these in duties
duties. Each narrower group of duties must fit in the°n
with and advance the wider sphere of duties. For- family,
tunately, there is no inherent necessity why they
need clash. For the best member of a family ought
also naturally to be the best member of a wider
society. On the other hand, owing to the limitations
of human nature, the absorbing dominance of single
passions and instincts, and the centripetal or selfish
instinct which congests the sympathies, each nar-
rower sphere of duties ought to be supplemented
and rectified by the wider and higher ethical out-
look towards which it ought harmoniously to tend.
" Charity begins at home," but ought not " to stay
at home," is eminently and deeply true. Moreover,
it can be proved (and I am sure I shall be borne out
by any experienced observer of life) that the narrower
and more exclusive are our sympathies the less
efficient are they even when applied to the narrower
sphere.1 The absolute and amoral egoist does not
love even himself truly and wisely. And those
members of a family in whom the family feeling is
hypertrophised to an abnormal degree, so that it is

1 See The Jewish Question, etc., p. 94.
19 271

272 DUTY TO COMMUNITY AND TO SOCIETY

blunted with regard to the wider life beyond and may
even produce an antagonistic attitude towards it,
are most likely to be, within this family group,
intensely selfish, whenever there arises a clashing of
interest and passions between themselves and other
members of their family. To them applies what in
an earlier portion of this book has been said con-
cerning the Chauvinist.
Our In the progression of duties from the narrower

irTthe *° tne wider sphere we proceed from the family to the
locality immediate community in which we live. I in no way
munityinwish here to maintain that the social classifications
which we n0\y attaching to birth, wealth, or occupation are to
work. be fixed and stereotyped in class distinctions without
any appeal to reason and justice, as little as I accept
the extreme ideals of absolute socialism, which reduce
all life and ambitions to the same level. But, con-
sidering our life as it actually is, we must begin our
general social duties by performing those several
functions which physically and tangibly lie before us
according to the position in which we are placed,
with a view to the material, moral, and social advance-
ment of such a community. However remote the
central occupations of our life may be from the life of
the place in which we actually live, we must not, and
we need not, ignore our immediate duties to the
collective life of this group of people or this locality.
In many cases, nay, in most cases, our life-work may
be immediately concerned, or connected with, a certain
locality. Whether as labourers, or as farmers, or as
landlords ; whether as artisans, or as managers, or
as proprietors of factories, or other industrial enter-
prises ; whether as merchants or as tradesmen,
employers or employed, we thus have distinct and
definite duties towards those with whom we are
co-operating, and, outside the interests of the definite
work in hand, we are directly concerned in the col-

PROGRESSION OF DUTIES 273

lective social life of the place where our work and
our interests lie. But even if our home and residence
fall within a district far removed from the actual
centre of our life-work, even if this work is of so im-
material a character that it reaches beyond the
locality and even the county, our immediate duty as
members of such a community, to do our share in
regulating the social life surrounding our home, always
remains .

Nor is the social duty which we have here to contem-
plate merely concerned with our not transgressing the
existing laws that emanate from what is called social
legislation ; nor is it only concerned with the pro-
vision of all that goes to physical subsistence within
the community, the fight with poverty, misery and
want, or merely with the increase of physical comforts
and amenities ; but it is positively and directly con-
cerned with the advancement and improvement of
the social life as such, in so far as we come into contact
with it. It even concerns our relation with every
member of such a community in which we live.

Hitherto the recognised social activity in what is positive
called social reform, as affecting the individual, and ESL
still more as leading to State legislation, has been
chiefly concerned either with the avoidance of physical
misery, or with the removal of injustice, or with the
increase of physical comfort. From these broad
and more public points of view we rise to the con-
sideration of the social relation of individuals among
each other in all the complexities of private life and
intercourse, not only in business or work, but also
in the free and varied inter-relations of purely social
existence. But beyond this there is a further task,
when we regard human society as a whole. We must
then recognise and establish in each successive
generation the rules governing such intercourse.
These are established by an attempt to adapt life

274 DUTY TO COMMUNITY AND TO SOCIETY

to the existing and constraining conditions which we
find about us, to make it run smoothly and har-
moniously with the least friction so as to avoid
conflicts and consequent misery. But, by calling in
the help of Plato, such rules of social conduct may
be raised to a higher level towards the perfection of
social intercourse and of society as a whole. Not
only physically, but spiritually as well, each succes-
sive generation must be led on to higher expressions
of its true humanity, to the highest expression of
individual man, and the highest corporate existence
of society. Kant's Categorical Imperative, which
enjoins upon us to act so that we should guard in
everything we do the dignity of our neighbour as well
as our own, will ever remain one of the most perfect
epigrammatic summaries of the duties of man as a
social being.
Consider- As I have said before, most of us are not likely to
ateness. mur(jer or to steal ; but we are all of us prone to
murder the dignity and self-respect of our neighbour,
to steal from him that claim to regard and to esteem
which is his by right, both human and divine, or to
wound his sensibility by our own acts of commission
or omission. How often do we not sin from a want
of delicate altruistic imagination ? Without directly
wishing to hurt or harm, we are led, in selfish preoccu-
pation and bluntness, to wound a man to the very
core of his self-respect or more frequently to disregard
and ignore his harmless vanity.
The Art Beyond economical prosperity, even beyond charit-
Its su^6* aD^e eff°rts to relieve want and misery, beyond fair
preme dealing in business and in social intercourse, lies, for
ethical the true conception of an ideal society, the Art of
con- Living itself, upon the refinement and constant

sidcri- ° ■

tion. realisation of which depend to a great extent the
happiness of human beings and the advancement of
human society. To make our homes habitations

THE ART OF LIVING 275

which should harmonise, and thus favour the free
development of, our social instincts and to prepare
each individual for such perfect intercourse with his
fellow-men, and to educate and to encourage the
individual thus to perfect and harmonise his life in
order to increase happiness for himself and for others,
is the definite duty before us. The claims of such
duty are as weighty and the need of dealing with
them as urgent as are all the more manifest and
serious duties of morality which have hitherto
received the sanction of moral society and of its
educators. That community and that nation is
highest in which this Art of Living is most completely
realised in the home itself and in the training of the
individual.

I venture to say that in this respect, however un- Eng-
favourably we as a nation may compare in some ^^'^ra.
aspects of our public education with the other nations tiveiy
of Europe, we still stand highest. In certain parts ti^n posl"
of the United States of America the same high among
standard is attained. From the cottages of our nations>
poorest labourers and the small suburban houses ofPwel-

• lings

our artisans and our clerks, to the town dwellings of
our merchants and tradesmen, till we come to the
larger country houses standing in their parks — all
these homes are not only expressive of comparatively
greater wealth, but show, on the part of their occu-
pants, some desire — whether partly or wholly success-
ful— to beautify the home beyond the mere needs of
physical subsistence, to make it respond to the life
of its occupants beyond the mere provision of shelter
and food. From the strip of cottage garden without,
to the interior furnishing of the modest cottage, and
so on throughout the dwellings of every layer of
society, there is shown here some effort to respond
to this important contribution to the Art of Living,
which in so far surpasses all other European nations.

276 DUTY TO COMMUNITY AND TO SOCIETY

Collec-
tive com-
munal
life.

Social re-
sponsi-
bility.

Sport and
pastimes
produc-
tive of a
national
sense of
justice
and fair
play.

Intellec-
tual play
Art in
national
life.

Moreover, as a heritage handed down through cen-
turies of political liberty in representative forms of
government, however indirect and often very slight
in its effectiveness, the sense of social responsibility
and of collective action in every social group through-
out the country is higher than in countries which do
not possess as a living tradition the responsibilities,
as well as the rights, of the individual as regards
communal life.

The social sense, based upon justice and fairness,
has furthermore been most efficiently developed
among us by our national sports and pastimes, and
their deep penetration into the life of both men and
women. Whatever may rightly have been urged
against the excess of interest shown in sport among
the young in our educational institutions, as well as
among our adult population, the fact remains that
the sense of freely established social discipline (not
imposed from without or from above), the steady
development in the public consciousness of the sense
of justice and of fair play, have been of inestimable
advantage to our national life and to the social
ethics guiding it, and in which other countries, notably
Germany, are grossly wanting. Let us never forget
this essential and conspicuous result of our national
sports, and cultivate and cherish them accordingly ;
though the very realisation of their importance must
lead us to combat all abuses and elements of exaggera-
tion or degeneracy inherent in some of their forms
or consequent upon their disproportionate and in-
apposite cultivation.

The more we recognise the importance of these
forms of collective physical recreation as factors in
the social development of the people, the greater
becomes the need to supplement them by the culti-
vation of the spiritual and moral forms of play, the
appreciation and pursuit of science and art, to which,

MUSIC AND DOMESTIC ART IN ENGLAND 277

under favourable conditions, even the mass of the
people can be made thoroughly responsive. The
illustration I gave in an earlier part of this book, in
the case of the Gilchrist lectures, will indicate the
possibility of such a wide diffusion of culture in all
social strata. The undeniable good which during
the past centuries — in spite of the blighting inter-
regnum of iconoclastic Puritanism — the Established
Church in England has done, by disseminating,
through village and town choirs, the appreciation and
the practice of music (though chiefly limited to church
music), has borne its fruit throughout the whole
country and has established, notably in Yorkshire,
Lancashire, Staffordshire and Wales, developments of
choir-singing, which so competent a judge as the late
Professor Joachim proclaimed to be of the best. No
doubt on the secular side of musical development we
can learn much in this respect from other countries,
especially Germany. The same applies to the diffu-
sion among the people of the higher forms of dramatic
art which in Germany and France are made accessible
to the mass of the people. But in all other arts,
especially as they are directly reflected in domestic
life, whether it be in architecture, in the graphic or
decorative arts, their vitalisation in the actual homes
and lives of the people at large, British society stands
higher than that of Germany.

What we are here concerned with is the study of
that aspect of these collective human efforts which
are connected with the development of the individual
towards a higher social ideal, and with those qualities
of human character and living which, apart from the
mere struggle of material existence, affect the relation-
ship between human beings as such in their inter-
course with one another. And we hold that this
sphere of social ethics is of the utmost importance
in the establishment of human morals.

278 DUTY TO COMMUNITY AND TO SOCIETY

The summary of the qualities which prepare men
for " the art of living," that most important factor
in the ideals of human society, is conveyed by the
one term, " gentleman." This term has been adopted
by most European nations in its English form and
is the modern successor of the mediaeval knight or
nobleman, of the Italian cavalier e of the Renaissance,
the French gentilhomme, and the modern Austrian
return to Medievalism in the Kavalier. To be a
gentleman is an indispensable condition to the pro-
duction of the superman.
The The ideal of the gentleman includes in its connota-

honour. tion, above all, that he should be " a man of honour." \
Such a man is one who in all his actions strives to
live up to his highest principles in spite of all the
dictates of self-interest or convenience which may
draw or lead him in another direction. He has
embodied in his code, irrespective of utility or advan-
tage, the highest principles of social ethics prevalent
in his day. Honesty and absolute integrity in all
his dealings, and truthfulness, whether it be in the
material business of life or in the more delicate
relations of social intercourse, are coupled with the
generosity and the courage to uphold before the
world and in himself those principles which wilfully
ignore all expediency. The man of honour is he

1 I have on a previous occasion (Jewish Question, 2nd ed., p. 324)
attempted to define honour as follows : " Honour is practical con-
science, conscience carried into action ; and the man of honour is
one in whom this practical conscience has become second nature, an
ineradicable habit. But we must all realise how frequent are the
changes in the denotation of this term ' honour.' Each period and
every country has its peculiar conception of it, and one age may
oppose or ridicule the conception held by another, as one country
may deny the code of its neighbour. One country may consider it
to be a stern dictate of the code of honour to fight a duel in satisfaction
of wounded vanity ; while another country may laugh it away. But
what always remains, and will remain, is the connotation of honour —
the practical conscience as affecting our common social life, so effective
that we are prepared to give up our lives in order to follow its dictates.' '

THE IDEAL OF THE GENTLEMAN 279

who can never act meanly, think meanly, or feel
meanly. He never can be a moral coward any more
than a physical one. He is the embodiment of
virility and moral courage. He has developed in
himself Plato's to dvfioeiSi? — true courage, which
dominates to eTridvfjujrtKov — the natural instincts and
appetites, and enables him, if need be, to stand
alone amidst the ruins of selfishness and iniquity,
dominating the life about him :

Si fractus illabatur orbis,
Impavidum ferient ruince.

But it is in this conception of honour that the need varying
for summarising the highest ethical principles sue- slsmfi-
cessively in each age, to the insistence upon which honour
this whole book is meant to contribute, makes itself mYan°jS

» ages ana

most clearly felt. For there can be no doubt that in the need
successive generations and under varying social con- Jussive
ditions, as well as with the different occupations and revision
professions of life, the principles and standards ofmeaaing#
honour have varied and must naturally vary. They
establish the accepted code of honour for men and
women living under these changing conditions, until
they may become what, in a derogatory sense, is
called a convention and what really means the
crystallised and sometimes fossilised and social
experience of each age, community, or social group.

Now, it is against such conventions and their effect Anarch-
on life that the revolutionary innovators or reformers jffim
in our own day above all make war. These, of whom like
Nietzsche is the clearest and most pronounced ex- schez"
ample, endeavour with a stroke of the pen to eradicate strike at
from human society the sturdy plant of moral growth vention"
which has been evolved and strengthened for centuries, not the

essence

grafted upon and improved by the conditions of the
progressive and refined life of civilised society. By
one stroke of the pen, they wish to extirpate it from

280 DUTY TO COMMUNITY AND TO SOCIETY

the moral consciousness of men, calling it a convention

which blocks the way to the advent of their favourite

superman. But because there is no doubt that the

conception of honour thus varies with different social

conditions, that it even changes in its character

and nature with the different social gradations

affected by the life-occupation of groups within the

change of wider communities, such change only proves the

proves0 y vitality and all-pervading penetrative effectiveness

the of such a conception of social ethics and the urgent

and va- need for the constant revision and renewed justification

thltybf °^ *ts existence by the application of the highest

stance, reason, by the action of Practical Idealism.

The more The more a later generation, looking back with the

nise^he " unprejudiced clearness of impartial apprehension,

inade- can realise the limitations and even distortions

former inherent in the conception of honour in previous ages,

concep- which have become effete social conditions, the

tions of . '

honour in greater and the more crying becomes the need to
da^The mocnfy and to define a new conception of social
greater ethics as embodied in the idea of honour in accordance
to forma- with the best that the succeeding age can think and
late them realise. The ideals embodied in the Principe of
Macchiavelli, even in the Cortegiano of Castiglione,
and to some extent in the Letters of Lord Chesterfield
to his Son, can no longer be accepted by us. Many
of these principles are directly repugnant to our moral
sense ; while many others have lost their significance
to such a degree that the seriousness and emphasis
with which they are upheld appear to us frivolous and
inept, because of the complete change in the social con-
stitution and the actual life of our own time and society.
Still, many of the fundamental principles might re-
main, and might be incorporated into a modern code.
If we thus consider the conception of honour from
the historical point of view, we find that the highest
honour in a definite society or State is established by

HONOUR 281

the ruling class within that State. The keynote in The es-
a community with effective aristocratic classification, ment of
from the ruling classes down to the serfs, is struck the c°de
by the ruling class. Not infrequently the members by the
of such a class claim for themselves (and the claims dominant

C13.SS6S

may be admitted by the lower and humbler grada-
tions of society) the monopoly in the possession of
the attributes of honour.

Wherever such fixed and stereotyped class dis- The more
tinctions exist, the lower and humbler classes may elusive
accept such exclusion from the claim to honour or, claim to
at all events, may themselves be lowered in their onTciLJ
moral vitality in this respect and to that extent. is *">
To give but one broad instance, not so remote in the lower
time from ourselves : The extreme effectiveness as *he ,st,an"

. . . dard for

regards honour pertaining to the ruling class of the the other
Samurai in Japan has depressed the moral standards ^s^ses
for the commercial and other classes in that country,
so that, in spite of the exceptional loftiness of moral
standards among the Samurai, the commercial honesty
and integrity and all those social qualities affected
by the conception of honour have been lowered among
the Japanese merchants and traders compared with
those of China, although I understand that some
improvement has recently been effected in this re-
spect. As the uncompromising and stereotyped class
exclusiveness in Japan is making way for wider
democratic freedom, the higher standards of the
Samurai may become inadequate and lose their
effectiveness ; but, on the other hand, the ideas
of commercial honour and other social and ethical
forces will extend and rise as the need for such
extension and elevation makes itself felt with the
rise in social position of the formerly repressed classes.
This process of national and social transformation is
one of the greatest problems facing the people of
Japan. The same phenomenon may be perceived

282 DUTY TO COMMUNITY AND TO SOCIETY

in comparing the social conditions of the free con-
tinental towns during the Middle Ages, which were
not dependent upon, and were unaffected by, the
conditions of life prevailing amongst the nobility in
the country, and where, therefore, standards of
honour pertaining to commerce, trades, and handi-
crafts were evolved, which could not be repressed
to a secondary and in so far more degraded position,
by the comparative superiority of social conditions
and of honour in the nobility.
Occupa- In the same way in our own days, the careful
their in- ODserver may note, that in countries and communities
fluence on where social consideration assigns a higher position
of honour! to those occupations and conditions of life remote
from commerce and trade, the social standing and
the standards of social living, ultimately the con-
ception of honour, are not as high as in those com-
munities where commerce and trade are not thus
placed upon a lower level. It is equally undoubted
that occupations in life, and their direct influence
upon the mode of living, have established special
standards of social morality in themselves.
Barter The conditions of direct barter, for instance, are

lower" l°wer than in commerce, because they leave such a
standards wide margin to personal persuasiveness and even
*0^ deception, which cannot obtain in those larger com-
merce, mercial transactions where the object bought or sold
cannot be seen or tested on the spot, and where,
therefore, the appeal to, and the direct need of,
faith and trust in the truthful statement of vendor
and purchaser are a necessary condition to all com-
mercial transactions. The presentation of a small
sample in the hand to represent a shipload of such
goods presupposes veracity on the part of the vendor
and of faith on the part of the purchaser. Higher
principles and commercial integrity, commercial
honour, may therefore be evolved in such wider com-

COMMERCIAL HONOUR 283

merce and may establish themselves among all those
following such an occupation in life. I wish merely
to suggest, and leave the reader to work it out for
himself, how certain trades among us, from the very
nature of the uncertainty inherent in the objects
offered for sale, have proverbially produced standards
of honour greatly differing from those prevalent in
other commercial dealings.

On the other hand, the extension of modern Dangers
business into these vastly widened spheres, as well as system
the fact that it is almost entirely based upon credit, and of
often unsupported by corresponding assets ; and tforTin"
furthermore the rapid and enormous increase ofmodern
speculation, which must always form some part in merce.
great commercial transactions, so that it has become Bank_

' ruptcy.

the dominant element, have blunted the sense of
commercial responsibility, integrity, and honour, and
have even opened the door to downright dishonesty.
They have also made the prospect of insolvency or
bankruptcy so common a possibility as the result of
commercial transactions, that they have deadened
the moral sense of responsibility and the old-fashioned
standards of commercial honour, which shrunk from
insolvency and bankruptcy as in themselves dis-
honourable. Thus the present state of commerce
often results in a lowering of the moral standards
of society, and in its ultimate influence upon the
life of civilised communities has eaten into the very
core of the social morality of the whole world .

Moreover, those conceptions of commerce and Methods
industry in which they are considered analogous to °pp^d
war, in which proverbially "all is fair," though to com-
actually prevalent, are certainly not sanctioned by ind^try.
the moral consciousness of the people when they face Competi-
the question of public and private morality. Com-moraiand
petition may be the soul of trade and may be recog- immorai.
nised and admitted as such. Its effect in appealing

284 DUTY TO COMMUNITY AND TO SOCIETY

to energy and arousing mental and moral effort in all
workers is undoubtedly to the advantage of society,
beyond the economical aspect in which it lowers prices
to the advantage of the purchaser. Not only in the
production and cost of goods, but in the rapidity and
facilities of distribution and in the transportation of
capital in all directions where it is required by
labour, commercial activity is undoubtedly to the
benefit of society. The hard work, the concentration
of energy, the application of human ingenuity and
inventiveness to produce labour-saving appliances
and to facilitate the transportation of goods as well
as of capital, are undoubtedly of the utmost advan-
tage to society, and worthy of encouragement and
recognition ; they rightly bring great rewards in the
acquisition of wealth. Moreover, the results of such
qualities, good in themselves, are to be encouraged
and protected by society at large and by the State,
through legislation for their protection and pro-
motion. The extension and enforcement of patent
laws are wholly just and useful, and so far from being
discarded, they ought to be still further developed and
enforced .
Patent These patent laws must be supplemented by the
J^py?nd laws of copyright which ensure the same advantages
rignt. and encouragement to less physically manifest inven-
tiveness and originality, to the more immaterial iuid
vaguer goods of the mind, be it in direct literary or
artistic production or in the designs and the creation
of new fashions, which stimulate industry through
the exertion and mental superiority of the worker.
Besides being advantageous to society, the protection
and encouragement of this kind of human productive-
ness directly appeal to our sense of justice.

Though competition can thus be recognised and
commended as a beneficent element in commercial
life, the same does distinctly not apply to the degen-

IMMORAL TENDENCIES OF MODERN COMMERCE 285

eration of competition into the unscrupulousness and
savagery of warfare, wherein the ruling standards of
honesty and honour are discarded or ignored. When Grossly
the methods of commerce or industry imply or include JJJJJJJency
and — as is often the case — are chiefly concerned in of some
deception and lying ; when they encourage activities ^ms oT
corresponding in a great degree to those of the spy in modem
warfare ; when in dealing between vendor and pur- merceand
chaser and competitors all trust, not only in each industry,
other's statements, but in the primary intention on
the part of each to deal fairly with each other while
recognising the just claims to self-interest and self-
advancement for each, when all these are brushed
aside, and the attitude is that of pure antagonism
and contest, in which all means to win are resorted
to, including untruth and deception, then such
occupations are distinctly low in the scale of human
activities and, if not directly dishonourable, they can
lay no claim to honour, and no claim to social recog-
nition or regard. Yet, it cannot be denied that a
great part of industrial and commercial activity is
carried on by successful men to whom (as a high
attribute among their clan) the term " cleverness,"
or, in America, " smartness," or — sometimes with a
slight dash of subdued disapproval, yet hardly ever
with complete condemnation — the term " sharp-
ness " is applied, — it cannot be denied that activity
is not compatible with the maintenance of a high
conception of honour and of the higher social ideals.

Society will have to recognise that such occupations society
are low, and show its disapproval in its estimation and must .,

' rsr show its

treatment of those who pursue them. disap-

Now, it must be admitted that the whole sphere of JJSSjjJ
Stock Exchange transactions, in so far as they are pations.
founded upon what is called speculation, are essen-
tially of this nature. The " bulls " and " bears "
must, from the speculative point of view, entirely

286 DUTY TO COMMUNITY AND TO SOCIETY

base their success on the ignorance or mis judgment of
their competitors. They are, if not directly forced, at
least encouraged, to mislead such competitors as to
the deciding facts in the regulation of value, and, at
all events, they are by this very activity justified in
withholding all information which would guide the
willingness or eagerness to purchase or to sell on the
part of their commercial antagonists. There is but
little room for honour in such occupation and none
whatever for generosity. And if generosity is an
essential element in the composition of a man of
honour and a gentleman, there is but little oppor-
tunity for its development in the mental ethos of him
whose whole conscious activity in his profession is
regulated by such a state of social warfare. Now,
though it could only be a Utopian dreamer who would
maintain that men enter the struggle of commercial
competition in order to practise generosity towards
their competitors and to cultivate honour and
chivalry in themselves, it can and must in sober and
deliberate reasonableness be maintained, that no
occupation can be good which, so far from encouraging
generosity, requires and stimulates the reverse —
namely, cruelty, ruthlessness, and deception. Such
The direct an attitude, however, is the necessary result of that
aim to development of modern industrial and commercial
com- enterprise which is not only concerned with the
petitor. expansion and the prosperous development of one's
own business, but has, as one of its conscious and
direct aims, the destruction and ruin or jeopardising
of an opponent's business. Now, the recognised
methods developed during the last two generations
in the commercial and industrial world, especially
through the formation of the larger " trusts," have
included attempts thus to eliminate all competition
and to destroy and ruin the business of all those
who would, and ought to, be the natural com-

INDIFFERENCE TO COMMERCIAL STANDARDS 287

petitors. That such a practice and such an attitude
of mind are contra bonos mores, and shock and revolt
the moral consciousness of the society in which we
live, will be admitted by all.

Here, however, we meet with one of those flagrant if society
moral contradictions referred to in the Introduc- rjSLisea
tion, to expose which has been one of the chief such busi-
aims of this book. For though it is recognised ditions^as
that such prevailing practices are condemned as morally
immoral and unsocial by the moral consciousness of ought to
our age, such is the power of wealth, to which these wltnhold

Y . encour-

practices ultimately lead, and the power, the conse- agement
quent social glitter and prestige which can be given lively*
to the life of those possessing this wealth — including combat
even the power to make large contributions towards em*
charitable or public needs — that ultimately wealth
itself, irrespective of its moral or immoral, beautiful Society
or hideous, exalted or despicably sordid source, will Estate
carry with it social recognition and even the con- confer
ferring of the highest distinction on the part of the tion on"
State. Society as well as social groups, and, above iii-be-
all, the State, must reconstitute their scale of social weaith.
valuation. If society and the State are as yet tooAfla*5a*

J f case of

unwieldy and incapable of positively affecting and contra-
regulating by unmistakable signs, recognition, ap-jJJSjJSn
proval and reward, those forms and traditions of modern
activity which themselves directly tend to the advance- m0dcesrnn
ment of society and the higher development of moral practice,
standards, they ought at least directly to discourage
and to combat those forms which are " against good
policy " and which distort and vitiate the recognised
standards of social morality.

I have endeavoured elsewhere 1 to show how the Finance
whole system of what is called finance, besides being ^d the
dangerous to the individual, has had the most dis- portation

of capital.
1 The Political Confession of a Practical Idealist. London, 191 1.
See Appendix IV.

20

288 DUTY TO COMMUNITY AND TO SOCIETY

astrous effects upon the natural, intelligent, and
normal development of adequate social and moral
ideals among us. I have further attempted to show
how the important function of the transportation of
capital can, not only be most effectually carried out
by the State, but would also be a most effective
means of levying taxes for public purposes. At the
same time it would remove the most threatening
economical and social danger — namely, the automatic
accumulation of excessive capital by individuals and
bodies, devoid of the responsibility corresponding to
the excessive power conveyed. Its chief effect upon
the question which we are now considering is, that it
would counteract the prevalence of most effective
false ideals which are demoralising every layer and
group of society in every one of the civilised countries
of the world,
intelleo But this reform of the transportation of capital
capital: ^s a^so required for the transportation of that less
patent manifest and more evasive form of capital in the
copy- intellectual, scientific, or artistic achievements of man
right« in so far as they come under the head of patents and
copyright — in fact all those forms of potential capital
which require industrial support to become actual
economic values. It is here that the State, by means
of its patent and copyright laws, can do much. But
vast improvement is required to protect the producer
of such goods. As it is, the inventor (unreasonable
as he may often be, unpractical and difficult to
deal with in his sensitiveness and want of business
habits) is at the mercy, not only of the ordinary
business man, but of those evil traditions of sharp
practice in which all generosity and even all fair-
ness are suspended among those men whose co-
operation is indispensable if the invention is to be
converted into an industrial and commercial success.
The share of the inventor in great profits is thus

PATENT LAWS, PROMOTING 289

generally reduced to an unfair minimum. The lead
given by Germany in her patent laws, as differing from
our own, points to the right direction in which these
laws are to ensure ordinary justice and to tend to
counteract the distinctly immoral practices of modern
business.

But beyond dealing with patents and those intel-The
lectual goods which can be copyrighted, the evil jJ^J}"
traditions of the business of promotion and finance, ideas and
perhaps unknown to the mass of the people, are si^^s"
devious, reprehensible and low, and are recognised
and cynically admitted by the business world itself
concerned in such transactions, to be so, when a less
definite though negotiable idea or some potential
capital in the form of a concession is offered for
exploitation. The current practices in this field of
business enterprise are most reprehensible and display
low standards of business honour. To illustrate the
dominant practices, which, it must be admitted,
necessarily exclude any standards of chivalry and
honour which go to the making of a gentleman, I
cannot do better than to quote in the Appendix '
in full an article by one of the most prominent prac-
tical and theoretical financiers of varied and wide
experience in matters financial throughout the world,
which was published in Murray's Magazine in 1889.
I venture to say that no one is a greater authority
in this sphere ; while I may be allowed to add that „,
no man is possessed of a higher and more refined sense for prac-
of honour than is the writer of this article. ethical

Whatever hopes we may have regarding the future laws to
action of States, we must lay it down as a law of social modern6
ethics in order to free ourselves from direct contradic- com-.
tion in our daily life, which society at large and all nfe and
individual men who respect themselves and who have maiQtain

1 1 1 r • 1 1 our

the general good of society at heart, ought to insist higher

1 See Appendix V. ^SSca.

2go DUTY TO COMMUNITY AND TO SOCIETY

on — namely, that no person is to be admitted into
an honest and honourable group of society whose
private or whose business honour is tarnished ; that
wealth and power derived from sources and from
practices opposed to higher commercial honour, and
even from sources which, if not plainly dishonourable
are unsocial in their character, and imply an attitude
of mind definitely bent on harming or ruining the com-
petitor,— that such action should not evoke admiration
or approval and should not confer upon the possessors
of them a claim to social recognition or regard.

I have enlarged upon the commercial aspect of
modern life because it is so dominant in our own days,
and I have endeavoured thereby to illustrate the
actual need for the codification of ethics in response
to the varied requirements of modern social evolution.
More directly I have endeavoured to show the corre-
sponding need for the modification of our conception
of honour, an idea so important in social ethics, which
the evolution of our life has made necessary.
Besides The gentleman is thus, before all things, a man of
honour- h°nour- He possesses a highly developed and refined
able, the sense of truth, honesty and justice, tempered by a
manniust strong impulse of generosity which goes with strength
bechivai-and is the essential element of chivalry. The con-
" sciousness of superior strength must display itself in
its attitude towards weakness. This in no way
establishes the rule of the weak, " the ethics of
slaves," and the dominance of the inferior ; for the
true gentleman has ultimate ideals for society and
humanity at large of a distinctly aristocratic char-
acter, that is, the predominance of what is best, and
will fearlessly work towards the realisation of these
Gener- ideals. He will assert his power to this end, though
osity to sucn an assertion in no way precludes his generosity
' towards the weak, whom he will thereby raise and
not degrade to the slavery which blind and im-

to wo-
men.

CHIVALRY, CONSIDERATION, TACT 291

moral power imposes to the ultimate undoing of its
own strength and virtue. I repeat, the superman
who is not a gentleman is inconceivable.

The same sense of chivalry must show itself in the chivalry
attitude of man towards woman. He will always
remain conscious of the fact, and manifest this con-
sciousness in his actions towards her, that he is
physically the stronger and will not take advantage
of her weakness. If he does not act thus, he will sin
against his sense not only of justice, but of fairness
and generosity. On the other hand, he will not insult
and degrade woman by excluding her from moral
responsibility and from the dictates of reason and pure
justice and conceive her as an irresponsible being. All
that has been said of honour and all social virtues
applies to woman in a form suitable to her nature.

Beside and beyond being a man of honour and Consider-
responding to the weightier duties of honesty, justice tacTand
and chivalry, the true gentleman will develop in good
himself what, from a mistaken view of the needs of Thehu"'
social life, may be considered the lighter and less unities,
important duties. These are the social qualities
upon which the free intercourse of human beings
among each other as social beings depends ; and
from this point of view — of social intercourse and the
aggregate daily life of human society — they are most
weighty. They are the essential elements in man's
humanity, in the restricted acceptation of that term,
which make him human and produce the humanities.
The sins which most of us commit in our ordinary daily
life chiefly fall under this category, and from this
point of view they are most serious and become almost
heinous. In fact, the sins against the humanities
are as serious as the sins against humanity ; they
demand no less energetic resistance because they are
the sins nearly all of us are most likely to commit.
To put it epigrammatically, if not with paradoxical

292 DUTY TO COMMUNITY AND TO SOCIETY

exaggeration : for most of us it may be as great a
sin to commit a rudeness, to show a want of con-
sideration, to shirk answering a letter, to refrain from
paying a call which might reassure another human
being of our regard, or avoid wounding them by ignor-
ing them, as to refuse a contribution to a deserving
charity or to visit the slums where, it is more than
likely, our presence is not required and may do no
good. The gentleman manifests breeding, considera-
tion and tact ; his whole nature is harmoniously
attuned to respond to all the calls from the human
beings with whom he comes in contact, and to dispel
all discords in the life which immediately touches his
own. The meaning of this humanity or human-ness
has never been more perfectly expounded than in
the following passage of M. Bergson ' :

11 Each of us has a particular disposition which he
owes to nature, to habits engrafted by education . . .
to his profession ... to his social position. The
division of labour which strengthens the union of men
in all important matters, making them interdependent
one with another, is nevertheless apt to compromise
those social relations which should give charm and
pleasure to civilised life. It would seem, then, that
the power we have of acquiring lasting habits appro-
priate to the circumstances of the place we desire to
fill summons in its train yet another which is destined
to correct it and give it flexibility — a power, in short,
to give up for the moment, when need arises, the
habits we have acquired and even the natural dis-
position we have developed — a power to put ourselves
in another's place, to interest ourselves in his affairs,
to think with his thought, to live in his life ; in a
word, to forget ourselves. These are good manners,
which in my opinion are nothing but a kind of moral
plasticity. The accomplished man of the world

1 Quoted from the Moniteur de Puy-de-D6me, August 5, 1885, in
Henri Bergson, An Account of Life and Philosophy, by Algot Rule
and Nancy Margaret Paul, p. 10.

BERGSON ON GOOD MANNERS 293

knows how to talk to any man on the subject that
interests him ; he enters into the other's views, yet
he does not therefore adopt them ; he understands
everything, though he does not necessarily excuse
everything. So we come to like him when we have
hardly begun to know him ; we are speaking to a
stranger and are surprised and delighted to find in
him a friend. What pleases us about him is the ease
with which he descends or rises to our level, and,
above all, the skill with which he conveys the im-
pression that he has a secret preference for us and
is not the same to everybody else. Indeed, the char-
acteristic of this man of consummate breeding is to
like all his friends equally well and each of them more
than all the rest. Consequently our pleasure in
talking to him is not without a trace of flattered
vanity. We may say that the charm of his manners
is the charm belonging to everything that ' Good
manners are the grace of the mind.' Like the mani-
festation of bodily grace they evoke the idea of limit-
less adaptability ; they suggest too that this adapt-
ability is at our service and that we can count
upon it. Both, in short, belong to the order of things
that have a delicately balanced equilibrium and an
unstable position. A mere touch would reverse that
equilibrium and send them at once into an opposite
state. Between the finest manners and an obsequious
hypocrisy there is the same distance as between the
desire to serve men and the art of using them in our
service. . . . The balance is not easy to keep. We need
tact, subtlety, and above all a respect for ourselves
and for others.

11 Beyond this form of good manners, which is no
better than a talent, I can conceive another which
is almost a virtue. . . . There are timid and delicate
souls who, because they mistrust themselves, are
eager for approbation and desire to have their vague
sense of their own desert upheld by praise from others.
Is this vanity or is it modesty ? I do not know.
But whereas the self-confident man annoys us by his
determination to impose on everyone his own good
opinion of himself, we are attracted by those who

294 DUTY TO COMMUNITY AND TO SOCIETY

anxiously await from us that favourable verdict on
their worth which we are willing to give. A well-
timed compliment, a well-deserved eulogy, may
produce in these delicate souls the effect of a sudden
gleam of sunlight on a dreary landscape. Like the
sun it will bestow new life, and may even transform
into fruit blossoms that without it would have
withered untimely. It takes up its dwelling in the
soul and gives it warmth and support, inspiring that
self-confidence which is the condition of joy, bringing
hope into the present and offering an earnest of success
to come. On the other hand, a careless allusion or a
word of blame, uttered by those in authority, may
throw us into that state of black discouragement in
which we feel discontented with ourselves, weary of
others, and full of distaste for life itself. Just as a
tiny crystal dropt into a saturated solution summons
to itself the immense multitude of scattered molecules
and makes the bubbling liquid change suddenly into a
mass of solids, so, at the merest hint of reproach, there
hasten from every quarter, from the hidden depths
of the heart, fears that were seemingly conquered,
wounds of disillusion that were healed over, all the
vague and floating griefs which did but await the
moment when they might crystallise together into a
compacted mass, and press with all their weight upon
a soul thenceforward inert and discouraged. Such
morbid sensibility is supposed to be rare because it
is careful to hide what it suffers ; but who among us,
even the strongest and best equipped for the battle
of life, has not known at times the pain of wounded
self-respect, and felt as though the springs of the
action he was about to undertake were broken within
him . . . while at other times he was uplifted in joy
and a sense of harmony overflowed him, because the
right word spoken in a happy hour reached that
profound interior chord which can vibrate only when
all the powers of life thrill in unison. It is some
such word that we should know how and when to
speak ; therein lie the heart's good manners — the
good manners that are a virtue. For they argue the
love of our neighbour and the lively desire to win

BERGSON ON GOOD MANNERS 295

his love ; they show charity at work in the difficult
domain of a man's self-love, where it is as hard to
recognise the disease as to have a desire to heal it.
And this suggests to us a general definition of good
manners, as embodying a regard for the feelings of
others which will enable us to make them pleased
with both themselves and us. Underlying them is a
great and real kindness, but it may very likely
remain ineffectual unless there be joined to it pene-
tration of mind, suppleness, the power of making fine
distinctions, and a profound knowledge of the human
heart.

" Education, while it increases that mental flexi-
bility which is a quality dominant in the man of the
world, enables the best among us to acquire know-
ledge of the hearts of men, whereby kindliness is
rendered skilful and becomes the good manners of
the heart. This our forefathers recognised when
they termed the studies of the later years of school
life the humanities. Doubtless they held in remem-
brance the sweetness and light coming of long com-
panionship with the best minds of all time and so
well summed up in the Latin word humanitas. They
had in mind also the profound knowledge of the human
heart which may be attained through a sympathetic
study of the classics and which, adding penetration
to charity, gives it power to move freely along the
thousand byways of sensitiveness and self-love.
Perhaps, too, they had in mind that high self-control
with which men who have read much and thought
much . . . give utterance even to their most cherished
theories, their deepest convictions. This again is
yet another form of good manners. . . .

" There is a way of expressing our opinions without
giving offence ; there is an art which teaches us to
listen, gives us a desire to understand, enables us to
enter on occasion into the mind of others — in short,
to exhibit in discussions, even those on politics,
religion, and morals, the courtesy too often reserved
for trivial and indifferent matters. Where this
courtesy is maintained it seems to me that divisions
are less acute and disputes less bitter. . . . But such

296 duty to community and to society

respect for the opinions of others is not to be acquired
without sustained effort ; and I know no more power-
ful ally in the overcoming of that intolerance which
is a natural instinct than philosophic culture. Aris-
totle said that in a republic where all the citizens
were lovers of knowledge and given to reflection they
would all love one another. He did not mean by this,
I take it, that knowledge puts an end to dispute,
but rather that dispute loses its bitterness and strife
its intensity when lifted into the realm of pure
thought — into the world of tranquillity, measure, and
harmony. For the idea is friendly to the idea, even
to the contrary idea. ..."

Culture. The direct cultivation of the moral or social side
catiorfof °f our na^ure is supplemented and strengthened by
the gen- intellectual culture. Besides its direct aim to fit
t eman. ug £Qr some definite task which in our adult life we are
to fulfil and thus to make us specialists in some
definite work, the aim of all education must be to
develop the humanities in us, to strengthen and to
refine our intelligence, our appreciation of truth, our
taste, and, above all, what we can best call our
intellectual sympathies. Education must produce
this intellectual sympathy to such a degree, that,
without becoming a specialist in every department
of mental activity or, on the other hand, a pretentious
sciolist or superficial dabbler, the gentleman can enter
into all intellectual pursuits and sympathise with
their aims, their achievements, and the methods which
lead to them ; so that as a true citizen of the spiritual
world he may say : eques sum ; nihil intelligibile a me
alienum puto. We must always remember that,
necessary and important for the advancement of
human life as the production of the specialist may be,
the ideal of the human being is the harmonious and
complete development of the humanity within man,
which includes, or rather means above all things, the

UNIVERSITY EDUCATION 297

spiritual life and achievements of mankind.1 In so
far as he is a specialist he sacrifices something of his
humanity, and, as he is an organic and not a
mechanical being, he must rectify this defective
influence of his specialist activity. By training and
discipline in the humanistic side of his nature he
restores the normal and complete balance of the
humanity within him. Education which exclusively
aims at the production of the specialist would destroy
its own end in the interest of humanity were it to
succeed. I have already touched upon this question
as regards the practical activity in our institutions of
elementary education. It is most important also to
bear this question in mind when we consider our
highest educational institutions, our universities.

These universities have a clearly recognisable Higher
twofold sphere, towards each of which their existence ^^a,~
and their activity tend, namely, the impersonal and The uni-
the personal aspect of university work. The imper- Thelm-'
sonal aspect is the more important ; and it depends personal
upon the regulation and co-ordination of studies umver-°
whether, after fulfilling its impersonal duties, itsitYwork-
cannot be made as well to respond adequately to the
personal needs. In this impersonal aspect univer-
sities are institutions in which the highest pursuits
of pure science and research are carried on, irrespec-
tive of immediate practical application or use from
the material and economic point of view and even
from the educational point of view. They are to
advance pure knowledge in its highest form with the
most effective concentration upon this one great task,
and thus they will advance the community, the State,
and humanity towards the ideal goal of universal
progress. In doing this they will most effectively
increase the volume of truth and of human culture,

1 See Specialisation, a Morbid Tendency of our Age, by the present
Author. Minerva, Rome, 1880.

298 DUTY TO COMMUNITY AND TO SOCIETY

and thereby furnish the material for the increase of
the humanities, when the results of such work pene-
trate into the actual life of the communities and of
the individuals who compose them. Moreover, the
pure and concentrated spirituality of such effort,
and the atmosphere which emanates from it, will of
themselves be of the greatest disciplinary and educa-
tional value in the composition of a cultured indi-
vidual. I once ventured to put the difference be-
tween the school and the university into an epigram :
" A school is scientific because it is educational ; a
university is educational because it is scientific." P
Even if there were no students to benefit by the
teaching of a university, its supreme purpose in a
civilised community would remain as the living
centre for the advancement of science,
indirectly On the other hand, the directly personal and educa-
afms°of tive use °f a university is not excluded by this
univer- recognition of its impersonal aims. The men whom
' it trains to carry on this lofty and necessary work
are not prepared or improved for their supreme task
by sacrificing their humanity ; and those who are
not destined in after-life to grasp, hold and keep
alight the torch of pure science as kindled in the uni-
versities, will be all the more complete in their intel-
lectual development and more fitted to perform their
several functions in society, by having dwelt for one
specialist comParatively short period of their life in this lofty
is also the and attenuated atmosphere of pure and thorough
rnaintain- science and knowledge. But, I repeat, both the
ingnis potential scientific specialist and the more general
humanity worker and explorer of things human in life itself,
and by need not sacrifice the normal development of the
ing in humanity in them. They will be more efficient,
himself whatever walk of life they pursue, by becoming more
ties of a versatile intellectual beings and more perfect social

gentle-
man. * "The Ideal of a University," North American Review.

HUMANISTIC STUDIES 299

units who can respond to every aspect of purely
social life : they need in no way sacrifice their
humanity. They will naturally be the better men of
science, and still better statesmen, lawyers, mer-
chants, landowners, and even humbler workers by
being gentlemen.

Humanistic studies will always have to be repre- Human-
sented in the universities, not only for those who1!1":.

• J , . studies in

pursue them, but also for those who wish to specialise theuni-
in even the most abstract and least " human " studies. versity-
Those who directly pursue the humanities and aim
at a more general education, ought, without falling
into pretentious superficiality (which the merely
popularised study of science tends to produce) at least
to gain some intellectual sympathy with that impor-
tant department of human knowledge called Science
in the restricted sense, by familiarising themselves
with the work and the teaching of the great
science-specialists in the universities. They will
thereby also gain an inestimable mental training
from living in the atmosphere of such pure and
exalted work for which their after-life will give them
no opportunity.

The personal aspect of university teaching, while The per-
thus based above all things on thoroughness and ^°n^t of
concentration of thought, will directly aim at the univer-
well-proportioned co-ordination of all aspects of Jjjjjj as
scientific and humanistic endeavour, to produce the it contri-
true man of culture, who, however efficient in any one produce
specialised department of work, will have assimilated the gen-
the principles and methods of the intellectual achieve-
ment of the age. In so far the universities will con-
tribute their share towards cultivating in their students
the idea of the gentleman. This aim has to my
knowledge never been put more forcibly and more
beautifully than by Cardinal Newman when he says x :

1 The Idea of a University, by John Henry, Cardinal Newman, p. 177

300 DUTY TO COMMUNITY AND TO SOCIETY

"... But a university training is the great
ordinary means to a great but ordinary end ; it aims
at raising the intellectual tone of society, at cultivating
the public mind, at purifying the national taste, at
supplying true principles to popular enthusiasm and
fixed aims to popular aspiration, at giving enlarge-
ment and sobriety to the ideas of the age, at facili-
tating the exercise of political power, and refining
the intercourse of private life. It is the education
which gives a man a clear, conscious view of his own
opinions and judgments, a truth in developing them,
an eloquence in expressing them, and a force in urging
them. It teaches him to see things as they are, to
go right to the point, to disentangle a skein of thought,
to detect what is sophistical, and to discard what is
irrelevant. It prepares him to fill any post with
credit, and to master any subject with facility. It
shows him how to accommodate himself to others,
how to throw himself into their state of mind, how
to bring before them his own, how to influence them,
how to come to an understanding with them, how to
bear with them. He is at home in any society, he
has common ground with every class ; he knows
when to speak, and when to be silent ; he is able to
converse, he is able to listen ; he can ask a question
pertinently, and gain a lesson seasonably, when he
has nothing to impart himself ; he is ever ready,
yet never in the way ; he is a pleasant companion,
and a comrade you can depend upon ; he knows
when to be serious and when to trifle, and he haa a
sure tact which enables him to trifle with gracefulness
and to be serious with effect. He has the repose of
a mind which lives in itself, while it lives in the
world, and which has resources for its happiness at
home when it cannot go abroad. He has a gift which
serves him in public, and supports him in retirement,
without which good fortune is but vulgar, and with
which failure and disappointment have a charm. The
art which tends to make a man all this, is, in the object
which it pursues, as useful as the art of wealth or the
art of health, though it is less susceptible of method, and
less tangible, less certain, less complete in its result."

QUALITIES OF ENGLISH UNIVERSITIES 301

Whatever the shortcomings in the organisation
and in the work of our older English universities may
be from the point of view of the most highly specialised
study — though these deficiencies have continuously
been overcome by the reforms instituted during the last
two generations — they have retained in them, in their
modes of teaching and study, and especially in their
modes of living, as well as in the historical associations
clustering round their ancient buildings and the
genius of the place — elements which definitely and
directly make for the realisation of this particular com-
ponent in the constitution of the gentleman. We may
hope that no modifications or reforms, intended to
satisfy the more material wants, will counteract or
weaken these qualities. In fact there is no need, in
spite of all response to modern demands, that they
should thus be weakened. But, in adopting from
German academic institutions some of the best
elements in the pursuit of higher university work,
through the recent reforms introduced into English
universities, the danger has become imminent that
we may lose the important heritage of the traditional
character of English university education, and that
the tendency may have been to disown spiritual
possessions of the highest value so that we may das
Kind mit dem Bade ausschutten (to pour the child out
with the bath-water), to use a homely German saying.
I may be allowed to quote a very instructive passage
from the essays of Mr. G. Lowes Dickinson,1 which
have recently appeared, bearing on this point :

" Scene, a club in a Canadian city ; persons, a
professor, a doctor, a business man, and a traveller
(myself). Wine, cigars, anecdotes ; and suddenly,
popping up, like a Jack-in-the-box absurdly crowned
with ivy, the intolerable subject of education. I do
not remember how it began ; but I know there came

1 Appearances, "Culture," pp. 205 seq.

302 DUTY TO COMMUNITY AND TO SOCIETY

a point at which, before I knew where I was, I found
myself being assailed on the subject of Oxford and
Cambridge. Not, however, in the way you may
anticipate. Those ancient seats of learning were not
denounced as fossilised, effete, and corrupt. On the
contrary, I was pressed, urged, implored almost with
tears in the eye — to reform them ? No ! to let them
alone !

" ' For heaven's sake, keep them as they are ! You
don't know what you've got, and what you might
lose ! We know ! We've had to do without it !
And we know that without it everything else is of
no avail. We bluster and brag about education on
this side of the Atlantic. But in our heart of hearts
we know that we have missed the one thing needful,
and that you, over in England, have got it.'

"■ ' And that one thing? '

" ' Is Culture ! Yes, in spite of Matthew Arnold,
Culture, and Culture, and always Culture.'

" ' Meaning by Culture ? '

" ' Meaning Aristotle instead of Agriculture, Homer
instead of Hygiene, Shakespeare instead of the Stock
Exchange, Bacon instead of Banking, Plato instead
of Paedagogics ! Meaning intellect before intelli-
gence, thought before dexterity, discovery before
invention ! Meaning the only thing that is really
practical, ideas ; and the only thing that is really
human, the Humanities ! '

11 Rather apologetically, I began to explain. At
Oxford, I said, no doubt the Humanities still hold
the first place. But at Cambridge they have long
been relegated to the second or the third. There we
have schools of Natural Science, of Economics, of
Engineering, of Agriculture. We have even a Train-
ing College in Paedagogics. Their faces fell, and they
renewed their passionate appeal.

11 ' Stop it,' they cried. ' For heaven's sake, stop
it ! In all those things we've got you skinned alive
over here ! If you want Agriculture, go to Wiscon-
sin ! If you want Medicine, go to the Rockefeller
Institute ! If you want Engineering, go to Pittsburg 1
But preserve still for the English-speaking world

MR. LOWES DICKINSON ON CULTURE 303

what you alone can give ! Preserve liberal culture !
Preserve the Classics ! Preserve Mathematics ! Pre-
serve the seed-ground of all practical invention and
appliances ! Preserve the integrity of the human
mind I '

" Interesting, is it not ? These gentlemen, no
doubt, were not typical Canadians. But they were
not the least intelligent men I have met on this con-
tinent. And when they had finally landed me in
my sleeping-berth in the train, and I was left to
my own reflections in that most uncomfortable of all
situations, I began to consider how odd it was that
in matters educational we are always endeavouring
to reform the only part of our system that excites
the admiration of foreigners.

" I do not intend, however, to plunge into that
controversy. The point that interests me is the view
of my Canadian friends that in America there is no
' culture.' And, in the sense they gave to that term,
I think they are right. There is no culture in America.
There is instruction ; there is research ; there is
technical and professional training ; there is
specialisation in science and industry ; there is every
possible application of life to purpose and ends ;
but there is no life for its own sake. Let me illustrate.
It is, I have read, a maxim of American business that
1 a man is damned who knows two things.' ' He is
almost a dilettante.' It was said of a student, ' He
reads Dante and Shakespeare ! ' ' The perfect pro-
fessor,' said a College President, ' should be willing
to work hard eleven months in the year.' These are
straws, if you like, but they show the way the wind
blows. Again, you will find, if you travel long in
America, that you are suffering from a kind of atrophy.
You will not, at first, realise what it means. But
suddenly it will flash upon you that you are suffering
from lack of conversation. You do not converse ;
you cannot ; you can only talk. It is the rarest
thing to meet a man who, when a subject is started,
is willing or able to follow it out into its ramifications,
to play with it, to embroider it with pathos or with
wit, to penetrate to its roots, to trace its connexions

21

304 DUTY TO COMMUNITY AND TO SOCIETY

and affinities. Questions and answer, anecdote and
jest are the staple of American conversation ; and,
above all, information. They have a hunger for
positive facts. And you may hear them hour after
hour rehearsing to one another their travels, their
business transactions, their experience in trains, in
hotels, on steamers, till you begin to feel you have
no alternatives before you but murder or suicide.
An American, broadly speaking, never detaches him-
self from experience. His mind is embedded in it ;
it moves wedged in fact. His only escape is into
humour ; and even his humour is but a formula of
exaggeration. It implies no imagination, no real
envisaging of its object. It does not illuminate a
subject, it extinguishes it, clamping upon every topic
the same grotesque mould. That is why it does not
really much amuse the English. For the English
are accustomed to Shakespeare, and to the London
cabby.

" This may serve to indicate what I mean by lack
of culture. I admit, of course, that neither are the
English cultured. But they have culture among
them. They do not, of course, value it ; the Ameri-
cans, for aught I know, value it more ; but they
produce it, and the Americans do not. I have visited
many of their colleges and universities, and every-
where, except perhaps at Harvard — unless my im-
pressions are very much at fault — I have found the
same atmosphere. It is the atmosphere known as
the ' Yale spirit,' and it is very like that of an English
public school. It is virile, athletic, gregarious, all-
penetrating, all-embracing. It turns out the whole
university to sing rhythmic songs and shout rhythmic
cries at football matches. It praises action and
sniffs at a speculation. It exalts morals and depresses
intellect. It suspects the solitary person, the dreamer,
the loafer, the poet, the prig. This atmosphere, of
course, exists in English universities. It is imported
there from the public schools. But it is not all-
pervading. Individuals and cliques escape. And it
is those who escape that acquire culture. In America,
no one escapes, or they are too few to count. I know

MORAL HEALTH OF YOUNG ENGLAND 305

Americans of culture, know and love them ; but I
feel them to be lost in the sea of philistinism. They
cannot draw together, as in England, and leaven the
lump. The lump is bigger, and they are fewer.
All the more honour to them ; and all the more loss
to America." »

We all know and value the type of man for whom
Mr. Dickinson here pleads. And though our German
detractors (whose educational system also fails in
this very respect), or those who know us not, charge us
with moral degeneracy, I am justified in claiming
that, among the vast mass of young men who study
in our universities and issue from them, a large number
possess, and to a great degree realise, such ideals of
higher education on the moral and intellectual side.

1 I cannot in this respect agree with Mr. Dickinson in his opinion
of the American people. No doubt the spirit of pure commercialism
— especially of finance and company-promoting — is thus essentially
opposed to culture and higher moral refinement. Wherever it domi-
nates it must have this effect upon the community. But things
must have changed greatly within the last twenty or thirty years, if
there no longer exists in America a distinctly and admittedly leading
group of society in most of the great centres, which is thoroughly
representative of culture and of high ideals. I may be pardoned for
recording my own personal experience as far as it concerns friends no
longer living. My various visits to America during the eighties and
nineties of the last century led me then to the conviction that in no
European country — in none of the capitals where, by good fortune, I
was thrown in contact with people of every class, especially those who
could claim, and really possessed, culture and refinement — was the
cultured tone as high, the manners as good, and the conversation as
brilliant, impersonal, and unmaterial, as in some of the houses in
America where it also was my good fortune to be a guest. I recall
with admiration and delight the intercourse with members of the
" Thursday Club " in Boston, the house of the late Martin E. Brinmer,
where with men like Lowell, Charles Eliot Norton, Dr. Oliver Wendell
Holmes, Mr. Ticknor, and Mr. Coolidge, and many others, and with
women who in every respect were their equals, the conversation and
the general unobtrusive atmosphere of culture, as well as the exquisite
manners of these " men and women of the world," surpassed anything
I had met with in any of the European capitals. Moreover, these
social entertainments took place in settings of refinement and taste
which blended the best of the old world with that of the new. (Mr.
Howell's novel, The Rise of Silas Laphum, gives a picture of such true

306 DUTY TO COMMUNITY AND TO SOCIETY

import- There is, however, one aspect in which, from the
good ° very seriousness with which they uphold these ideals,
manners; they appear to me to neglect, or wilfully to ignore,
prenieiy other aspects which go to the making of the gentle-
important man. In fact — as an illustration of the error into
in culture which they fall — the very term "gentleman" might
th^mak- De ODnoxious and repulsive to them or unworthy
ingofa of serious consideration. In the eagerness and the
man.6" moral singleness of purpose with which they pursue
their lofty ideals of life, they may develop in them-
selves and in their views les defauts de leurs qualites.
They may spurn in theory and neglect in practice
the claims to serious attention of the lighter social
virtues for which I claim the most weighty moral
justification and most important social consideration.
I mean the amenities and graces of life, the conformity
to the traditions and customs of refined living and
breeding which society in the course of civilisation
has with much labour and after many centuries
evolved. In one word they have not " cultivated "
good manners. In fact, they often have no manners
at all, and do not know what good manners are.
As they know — and rightly too — that they are

refinement in the Cory family.) The same applied to the homes of
the late Mr. Schermerhorn, members of the Draper family, not to
mention the literary and artistic centres of the late George William
Curtis, and of the late Mr. R. W. Gilder, and to the studio of the
sculptor St. Gaudens in New York ; to the salons of the late Mr. S.
Gray Ward, John Hay and Francis Adams in Washington ; while I had
reason to believe that in the West, notably in such centres as St.
Louis, there existed circles in which intellectual and social ideals were
manifest and dominant. All this may have altered within the last
twenty years — I cannot judge. But I can hardly believe that such
traditions would vanish so soon. Still sadder would it be if such
leaders of men were not recognised as the leaders of American society,
looked up to and admired by the American people at large ; and
in their stead the possessors of mere wealth, whose ambition was the
stage-glitter of tinsel social prominence designed for the publicity
of a degraded and personal public press, had by their action entirely
superseded the older traditions and were now to direct the social
taste, ambitions and ideals of the American people.

DECLINE OF GOOD MANNERS 307

superior in their mentality and in their lives to the
majority of people with low ideals or no ideals at all,
they imagine themselves superior to well-mannered
people and above the established customs and tra-
ditions of good breeding. They need not pay a visit,
drop a card, though this be the well-founded, ulti-
mately highly moral, custom of the country. They
need not greet a friend or recognise an acquaintance
with the established form of salute, open the door for
a lady, enter into the spirit of ordinary conversation
— in short do their share to contribute to the refined
and smoothly running course of social life — until
they really become boors, ignorant, awkward, and
banausic — in outward, apparent life as far removed
from the habits and conduct of the gentleman of old
as possible. The sins of omission and commission
which the yokel manifests from ignorance, they almost
assert from conviction ; until their habits of life
become as low as his, and the collective tone becomes
the same — the only difference between them being
that the one's chief work is hoeing mangold- wurzels
and the others digging at pure thought, and, perhaps,
paring epigrams. We may revolt against the tyranny
of social traditions and conventions when once they
have lost their meaning and have become stereotyped
or died, or are even associated with social injustice.
But so long as no such evil effects attach to them
they maintain their validity and importance. At all
events, as direct and outward expressions of the
higher art of social life, they are essential to the
advancement of society and civilisation. The dead
and stereotyped and malignant form ought to be
modified and replaced by new forms which truly
express the consensus of opinion in response to this
art of social living. To maintain and to cultivate
and to advance good manners, be it that they tend
to avoid wounding the sensitiveness of those with

308 DUTY TO COMMUNITY AND TO SOCIETY

whom we live, or that they positively increase their
self-esteem, or even give pleasure by their inherent
grace and kindliness, is a paramount duty for every
cultured social being, and is in no way exclusive of
loftiness of moral purpose or efficiency of concen-
trated life-work,
import- Even to bestow proper care upon outer appearance
the cult *n t^ie f°rm °f dress need in no way inhibit or impair
of the our work, and our sincerity and efficiency in the more
and^uter serious aspects of life. On the other hand, it is a
appear- constant and positive expression of regard to those
Dress. about us to show such attention to our own personal
appearance. And by this reference to the question
of dress I in no way mean that the direct application
of higher and absolute aesthetic principles, in adopting
the standards and the taste of the ancient Greeks or
the people of the glorious Italian Renaissance, will
respond to the need for which I am pleading, especi-
ally if these should be in direct contrast to the ruling
standards of taste evolved by modern times and our
immediate age. They would thus only accentuate
militant originality, or rather eccentricity, and the pro-
test against reasonable traditions and good manners
as established in our own days.1

1 The claims to conformity in the lighter usages and amenities of
life were most forcibly brought home to me by the late Paul Rajon.
He was one of the most successful and leading etchers in France of
the last generation. In appearance, manners and dress, nothing
obtruded his artistic vocation ; he might have been a professional
man, or a man of affairs, or a " man of leisure and refinement." One day,
while I was with him in his beautiful studio in Paris, there arrived
a young artist who wished to show his work to the master-etcher
for criticism. The young man was dressed in the ultra-artistic or
Bohemian fashion ; enormous felt hat, fluttering tie, Wertherian cloak,
which he wore with an assertion of originality and nonconformity.
But it appeared that his work was most commonplace. Rajon care-
fully examined alternately the work and the attire of the young man,
and at last said : " Vous est-il jamais arrive" de penser qu'il faut s'habillev
comtne tout le monde et peindre comme personne ? " The social frondeur
— and this is generally the case in matters far beyond dress — evidently
painted like everybody and dressed like nobody.

IMPORTANCE OF DRESS, ETC. 309

I assert, without exaggeration or paradox, but,
on the contrary, with a full recognition of the ethical
purpose of the subject with which we are dealing,
that the custom prevailing in England in almost
every class, of washing, and of brushing up or changing
one's dress before sitting down to a meal, has produced
more good moral and social effects than the superficial
observer is likely to admit. I would seriously urge
that this custom should not be allowed to die out,
and should, on the contrary, be maintained and
encouraged in family life. It is a great national
asset. With those of comparative affluence, dressing
for dinner and for the life of leisure in the evening,
has far-reaching beneficent consequences and can in
no way be combated on the grounds of undue
expenditure, be it in time or in money. I can recall
how, many years ago, George Eliot, while depicting
graphically some of the ungainly effects and aspects
of the British Sunday in the country or country
town, dwelt with eloquence and vehement insistence
upon the important moral and social effect of " Sunday
clothes," and especially the changing from working
costumes to better dress. " The labourer hesitates
to use coarse language when he has his best coat on,"
were her words.

I would, therefore, urgently plead that all seriously
minded men and women should realise their responsi-
bility in upholding and cherishing the Art of Living
in all its forms, and in developing in themselves the
social amenities and graces which are inseparable
from our ideal of the gentleman. In his perfect
realisation he may be rarely met with, but he does
exist among us.1

" How many who have inner nobility and refine-
ment of taste with outer grace of demeanour, con-

1 The Jewish Question, p. 329.

310 DUTY TO COMMUNITY AND TO SOCIETY

siderateness, and tact ; whose intellectual education
embraces, at least as regards their sympathies, all
the varied spheres of noble mental effort ; whose
moral culture is so deep and true that they can
afford to be light and tolerant on the surface of social
conduct without calling in the need of the force-
pumps, bucketing up priggishness from the heavy
deposit of principles at the bottom of their conscience ;
whose nature is strung so that all the notes are true
in tone ; from whom we have never received a jar
from their blank limitation or from tortuous mal-
formation of taste, from meanness or grossness — a
sudden disappointment or shock to the best cravings
within us, putting us out of tune for a whole day,
like an ugly picture or a discordant sound ? How
many have you met, of whatever class of society you
may think ? And the wrestling for distinction and
display pointed out by M. Leroy-Beaulieu, the gross-
ness of the parvenu he refers to, have you not found
some, if not all of them, among your closest friends
of the highest social distinction ? They may some-
times be found among dukes and nobles whose
ancestors go back to the crusaders and among princes
of the blood. Thackeray has seen them and has
immortalised them. An act such as the attempt to
write a book defending a people from abuse, as has
been written by M. Leroy-Beaulieu, the tone of fair-
ness, refinement, and depth of sympathy with which
it is pervaded, brings me nearer in mind to the picture
of a true gentleman, sans peur et sans reproche, than
many a glaring act of valour, or a life passed among
the most refined brilliancy of modern social life.

" A gentleman is, after all, as has so often been said,
made by the kindness of the heart, the tenderness
within strength, the alma gentil. Tact is the rapid
and true action directed by ready sympathy, which
keeps us from saying or doing what will harm or
cause discomfort to our neighbours — it is loving-
kindness and unselfishness carried into our slightest
actions. Having these, any man may become a
gentleman in any sense. Failing these, he will never
be a true gentleman, however favourable the circum-

ETHICAL IMPORTANCE OF THE " GENTLEMAN " 311

stances. But with them, and with intellectual refine-
ment and culture, put a boy into noble social sur-
roundings, and he will become an ornament to every
salon into which he steps. But take care that you
do not remind him of the fact that he is tolerated !

" Here lies the difficulty. No man can display
these social qualities, nor can he avoid some appear-
ance of snobbishness, if by your action you make
the social ground upon which he stands and moves
unsteady, and rob him of the grace and lightness of
intercourse. He will be bound to become assertive
in some direction and deprived of his social ease."

The gentleman thus conceived is the highest social Practical
being. The practical necessity, and, certainly, the atonal"
practical advantage, of clearly establishing this ideal effect of
and of forcing it into the consciousness of all members j^the "
of a community as such an ideal, cannot be over- type and
estimated. For no moral education is effective unless the gen-
a type of highest morality can be clearly brought to Pieman,
the consciousness of those who are to be affected, aesthetic
I may be allowed to recall my own youthful experi- ^e^°r^i
ence, and at the same time to record my debt of teaching,
gratitude to those schoolmasters and schoolmistresses
in America — not to mention the earliest home-teach-
ing in that country — who constantly held up before
the young people some such ideal of a gentleman,
be it by positively stimulating ambition to live up
to it by self-repression and by definite courageous
assertion ; or, negatively, by conveying their con-
demnation of a mean or unworthy act by denying
to the delinquent the right to consider himself a
gentleman. The appeal is here chiefly made, not so
much directly to stern morality and to the conscious
weighing and balancing of moral injunctions, as to
our aesthetic faculties, to our taste, from which
admiration or disgust naturally emanate. And it is
in this aesthetic form that moral teaching may

312 DUTY TO COMMUNITY AND TO SOCIETY

perhaps be most effective : not by an appeal to
duty and theory, but by an appeal to taste. No
moral discipline, moreover, has become thoroughly
efficient until it has been absorbed into man's natural
tastes and preferences ; as we may also say, that
no general social laws have become efficient until
they have been transformed into admitted social
traditions and customs, or even until they have be-
come fashionable, and are classified in the prevailing
vernacular as " good or bad form." 1

All these particular and later ramifications of
our social duties, however, are summarised in, and
naturally lead to, the establishment of wider social
ideals, in which the intercourse between human beings,
productive of material good, tends to the advance
of all social groups towards such final ideals, and
facilitates and accelerates the dominance of what is
best.

In this ascending scale we thus rise beyond the
individual and the larger or smaller communities,
as well as the social groupings and classes, to the
State, and, finally, to humanity as a whole.

1 See Appendix VI.

CHAPTER III

DUTY TO THE STATE

As we have seen, our own Anglo-Saxon conception The con-
of the State — the French and the Americans have Estate*
virtually the same — differs essentially from that and the
practically accepted in Germany now, and theoreti- relation
cally upheld and developed by those politicians, between
historians and philosophers who have led the German and the
mind during the last generation. The leading indi- moral
vidual exponent of the German conception may be stious-
considered to be Heinrich von Treitschke. In the ^zens*3
connotation which the leaders of German thought
give to the idea of State, it is an entity final and self-
existent, from which all individual and social rights
are derived and to which they are absolutely sub-
ordinated. The State must thus represent the ruling
powers that be, and it is difficult to see how the rights
and claims of individual thinkers or social groups, or
even of the majority of its citizens, can successfully
assert themselves against these powers, and how
any changes, modifications and reforms can be intro-
duced, without violence or revolution, while the ruling
powers representing the State are opposed to them.
If the authority of the State is self-sufficient, and if
the social groups and classes derive their rights from
it and their power is strictly limited by it, there is
no rational, legal, or moral right by which the citizens
can in their turn oppose the will and the authority
of the State. In our conception of the State, on the
contrary, its authority is entirely based upon the

313

3i4

DUTY TO THE STATE

Revolu-
tion and
anarchy
have no
place in
such
States.
Duty of
obedi-
ence on
the part
of the
citizen.
Duty of
the State
to re-
spond to
the moral
and phy-
sical
needs
of its
citizens.
It must
sum-
marise
their
morality
in a
higher
form.

rights, as well as the duties, of individuals, groups,
communities, classes and occupations, and all ele-
ments which constitute the nation. The State and
its authority, its laws, its constitution, may thus
change, and ought, in a developing State, constantly
to change, in response to, and in harmony with, changes
in the individual, communal and social life of its
citizens. This life alters concurrently with the develop-
ment of the body of citizens themselves, as things
organic grow and develop so long as they live ; and
further, as such changes and developments are directly
caused by the conditions of life surrounding these
organic bodies, physical and moral — by all that may
be called environment. The whole political activity
of a modern democracy thus directly expresses itself
in legislation and administration, which it assigns to
its Government, by which act it confers supreme
authority and power upon the State as the final unit.
Therefore, in such States revolution and anarchy
have no place, no moral or legal ground for existence.
The citizen is bound to obey the laws which are made
by him ultimately ; and if he finds these laws unjust
or inadequate to the actual needs of life, or unsuited
to the changing conditions which the advance of
human society has produced, the constitution provides
him with the means of enforcing his will by his par-
ticipation in the direction of the authority of the State,
and not by destroying it. On the other hand, the
State itself must always remain in touch with its foun-
tain of life, that is, the individual life of its citizens.
From this the State draws the very right of its exist-
ence. It must summarise in a higher, purer and more
unimpeachable form, not only the physical and
grossly tangible aspects of life, but also the morality
of these smaller units within its wider orbit. The
State should never present a lower, but always a higher,
morality. It is not only concerned with the material

OBEDIENCE TO THE STATE 315

needs of the population, but with its higher and spiritual
needs as well. It should uphold and intensify indi-
vidual honour, being itself the source of all public
honour. It has the supreme and all-important
function of establishing and confirming the moral
values for all its citizens, for all communities, for all
public bodies, and for social life as well.

Therefore, our moral consciousness must clearly
consider and establish our duties to the State, both
the passive and the active duties of citizens.

The first duty is obedience. The fact of the legis- The more
lative power of the State having been derived fromJ^Jiesto
the body of individual citizens does not lessen, but the state,
increases, the need for and justification of obedience ence( "
to these laws. Nor does the knowledge of such an^P^.
origin diminish the claim to respect and even rever- rever-
ence towards the democratic State as compared toen?®.;.

r patnot-

the absolutist State. The modern democrat and ism.
constitutionalist can repeat the words of Louis XIV
and say, " L'Etat c'est moi." But his realisation that
he individually is thus a part, however small, of this
supreme authority, and that it represents the totality
of the whole mass of his fellow-citizens, need surely
not diminish his reverence and respect for such a
supreme unit as compared with the personal authority,
self-invested or supposedly conferred by the grace of
God, of a Grand Monarque. Nor will intelligent and
self-respecting human beings be less inclined to offer
unlimited obedience to such authority when their own
free-will has been called into activity in its establish-
ment, in contrast to the absolute domination imposed
upon them from without by one human being. In
addition to such obedience and respect the citizen
can even feel affection and love for the impersonation
of the State, culminating in the most intense and
self-sacrificing patriotism. When called upon, he
will be prepared to sacrifice his life for his country,

316 DUTY TO THE STATE

his president, or for his constitutional king, who

rules with his direct sanction, as readily as, and even

more readily, than for the country in the making of

whose laws he has had no part or for the absolute

monarch whose will is with persistent assertion

superimposed upon his own.

The state This being the case, it is most important that in the

be looked ethical training of such citizens, not only obedience

upon as t-0 the jaw 0f t^ ianci ancj the authority of the State

an outside . J

body op- should be constantly impressed upon them, so that
tnTindi^ ^ Decomes an inner habit of mind ; but also that
viduai. they should never be allowed or encouraged to look
and au^S uPon the State and its authority as outside bodies
thority opposed to their own interests and will, whom they
and the may thus readily come to consider an antagonistic
exactions DOdy or an enemy, until, like the proverbial Irishman
ried out they are " agin' the Government," always ready to
tiousiv11" °PPose or to evade authority. Even in countries
with a long and continuous tradition of personal
liberty, the mass of the people may be inclined to
look upon the State official as their enemy. Even
some of the most law-abiding citizens find occasionally
welling up in them an antagonism to the police, the
guardians of their own security, ready to sympathise
with, and even to abet, the pursued criminal. This
instinct illustrates the survival of traditions from the
bygone days of tyranny when the officers of the law
were in fact the enemies of the people, imposing
upon them the alien will and interests of rulers com-
pletely severed from them by their position. We
Pis" . are still far removed from that state of political

honesty , . . . w

towards education in which the mass of our citizens, even
theState*the most educated and affluent, are so imbued with
the spirit of law and civic morality, that it would
be impossible for them to evade the just payment
of the Customs-dues which, by the laws they have
sanctioned, the State is bound to claim. Even the

PASSIVE AND ACTIVE DUTIES 317

highly moral and refined member of society, who
would shrink with horror from any manifestly dis-
honest act, is not fully aware of his dishonesty,
and may at times even exult, when he successfully
cheats the Custom House official. In the same way,
illegally and wrongfully to pay the State less taxes
than is its due, by falsifying returns of income,
or in yielding to seductive self-deception, is a
practice to which many of our best and most
highly trained citizens will have to plead guilty.
The moral education of our future generations must
be such, that it will be impossible for them to
establish different standards of morality for their
dealings with their fellow-men or with the State and
its officials.

In addition to the more passive aspect of our duties Active
to the State, which lead to obedience and respect for Restate:
its authority, there is the more active sphere of immedi- directly
ate duty. We must in every way contribute our own integrity
individual efforts, however small and inappreciable an(* .

purity in

they may be, to make the State worthy of obedience, the ad-
respect, and reverence. We must jealously uphold J^8^"
its purity and integrity both in its legislative and the state,
administrative functions. We must resent and com-
bat every delinquency of duty on the part of its
administrators, whether it directly affect us and our
interests or not. It is indifference to the maintenance
of the highest standards of purity and efficiency which
is at once one of the most insidious as well as disas-
trous outcomes of liberty in democratic communities.
The less we wish to be dominated by a stereotyped,
self-assertive, and tyrannical bureaucracy, the more
ought we to guard the integrity and the efficiency of
office, the more ought we to make each office worthy
of the obedience and respect which we willingly offer
to them collectively as our chosen administrators of
the law.

318 DUTY TO THE STATE

The duty But in a truly democratic and constitutional nation
ingCiegis- the most important and effective function of the
lators, citizen will always be his power of electing his law-
through making representative. It is here that his most
them, the distinctive right comes into action, and, at the same

admirus- .... .

tration. time, his most imperative responsibility. The really

it is good citizen is bound to exercise his function as a

reh-am voter. It is a singular fact how little this supreme

from responsibility of the citizen is recognised, and, more-
voting. . . . . . . . ° '

over, how often it is ignored — in many cases by the

very men who possess the greatest power of thought,
deliberation, and judgment. In a book on the pre-
liminaries of the present war, purporting to give inac-
cessible facts and information derived from the very
leaders in European politics, that popular and success-
ful author, William le Queux, writes the following
passage : " Now, at the outset, I wish to say that I
am no party politician. My worst enemy could never
call me that. I have never voted for a candidate in my
life, for my motto has ever been ' Britain for the
British.' " He claims that all his actions have been
inspired by true patriotism. Moreover, his writings
imply that he is qualified to judge in matters political.
And yet, at the same time, he informs us that he has
never exercised that most important function which
in a constitutional country is the chief duty of every
citizen. But there is one saving clause in his state-
ment, conveyed by the term " party politician."
The diffi- All that is implied in the terms " party," " party
sentedby politics," and "party politician" make it most
party difficult at times for the conscientious voter to fulfil
to the S this primary and supreme duty to the State. Singu-
conscien- larly enough, this difficulty is increased in the older
patriot, and more highly developed democracies where the
constitutional machinery is most perfect and works
most efficiently ; where there have been generations
and even centuries of constitutional practice, and the

PARTY POLITICS 319

principles of freedom and self-government are firmly
and clearly established. In the younger, and less
developed democracies, less secure in the continuity
of their freedom, still influenced by the traditions and
survivals of more autocratic or tyrannical forms of
government, these difficulties do not arise to the same
degree. In such countries there are so many parties, The Two-
often merely representative of different leading gar^m
individuals, that each voter can adequately and
accurately make his choice coincide with his own
political convictions at each election. The more
highly organised and firmly established democracies,
such as Great Britain and the United States, however,
have developed the two-party system ; and this
twofold division, moreover, has implied complete and
more or less permanent organisation within each
party. It is not necessary to discuss here whether
such organisations of party government are essential
or desirable. For us the fact, as it is, remains. Yet,
though we may accept it, it does not alter the fact
that, as regards our political morality, our duty
towards the State, we ought to do all in our power to
make our parliamentary vote correspond as com-
pletely as possible with our political convictions in
the light of the needs of the nation as they present
themselves to us at the time. One thing is absolutely
clear and indubitable : that we have no right to give
our vote to the party with which we have hitherto
been associated if their programme or platform does
not correspond to what, according to our best thought
and our truest conviction, we consider the good of
the nation. It is here again (as we have seen in
Part I of this book) that a misapplied sense of would-
be loyalty, unreasoning and unguided by the dictates
of duty and justice, is most vicious in its effect and
most destructive of our sense of political morality,
in fact of all morality. The man who is expected to
22

320 DUTY TO THE STATE

give his vote for the best cause and for what he con-
siders the crying need of the country, and who will
not hesitate to relinquish his party when its principles
are directly opposed to these, is untruthful to himself
and to his country, and is personally as well as politi-
cally immoral. As we have seen before, he will
justify his action by professing to sacrifice himself for
the sake of " loyalty " to the party to which he has
always belonged, or even because his father and
grandfather had belonged to that party. As if this
cringing to the hereditary or stereotyped authority
of fossilised interests of the past did not fly in the
face of every idea of constitutional freedom and of
political duty, and as though he were not under-
mining the rational and moral bases of all constitu-
tional government by eliminating the principles of
reason and justice from the most essential functions
Duty to of national life. This misplaced and grossly ex-
against aggerated tf tyranny of loyalty " has been most
the party disastrous in its results as it is constantly applied
differing to political leaders and to parliamentary repre-
fromiton sentatives themselves. In spite of the persistent

theques- . i ■ t r u u-

tion at experience and numerous examples in English his-
Changeof tory> exemplified by both Disraeli and Gladstone,
party by who changed their parties within their political life,
aansand a smr> tf n°t a deeper stigma, is at once and readily
voters, applied to every political person who ventures to
change his party on grounds, however serious, of
conscientious deliberation and conviction. If, how-
ever, even the politician by profession, in spite of the
many restraining considerations which the nature of
the political mechanism brings with it, is bound to
act up to his convictions, there are far fewer deterrent
causes which ought to prevent the mere elector from
conscientiously transferring his vote in accordance
with his political faith. The whole theory of repre-
sentative government rests upon this assumption,

THE MORALITY OF THE "MUGWUMP" 321

The chief difficulty which meets us, however, is pre-
sented by those cases in which we may retain our
conformity with the main principles of the party to
which we have hitherto belonged, but for the time
being differ from it and agree with the opposing
party on the main issue before the country at the
time. There can be no doubt that in the future — The
whatever may be urged against the system — the ^^Ten'
machinery for taking a referendum on the leading The
questions of importance must be evolved. But, w^|"»»
meanwhile, what in the history of American politics move-
has been called the " mugwump " movement will
have to become more universal and more actively
established among us. Every thoughtful and con-
scientious citizen ought to be a potential " mug-
wump." The chief result will at all events be that
the established parties themselves will become more
immediately responsive to the best thoughtful
opinion throughout the country ; that the step from
the deliberate will and intelligence of the people to
its realisation in practical politics will become shorter,
and that finally the political party leaders themselves,
hardened and crystallised in their obdurate, almost
bureaucratic machine-work and authority, will be
forced to take cognisance of the thought and judg-
ment of the best and the most competent citizens
within the nation. No doubt the uncertainty and
difficulty presented to the party rulers to forecast
results and marshall their forces will be infinitely
greater when a large body of voters are fluctuating in
their opinions and political support. But this will
only mean that the party will no longer be stereo-
typed and fossilised, ruled by its formal laws and
interests ; and that, on the other hand, the party
leaders will have to remain in touch with the true
intelligence and morality of the country, to whom
much power will thus be transferred.

322 DUTY TO THE STATE

In our fundamental conception of the State and
its functions we shall less and less limit ourselves
to one single aspect of democratic government,
namely, the advancement of personal liberty which
is a purely negative conception of its function, cir-
cumscribing its activity as far as possible so as to
avoid all interference with personal liberty, until the
ideal becomes that of fatalistic laissez faire. It has
Extension long since been realised that a great part of the
ksgSbT function of the State necessarily means direct inter-
tion. ference with personal liberty, and that such positive
only to be legislation is not completely summed up in the final
concerned aim 0f the so-called good of the largest number, that

with the . ° . ° . .

poor and it does not spell mere opportunism, the adaptation
thekex°d °^ ^e wn°le machinery of State to immediate and
tension of crying needs ; but that one of the supreme aims and
jJoodes?al objects of the State is the betterment of the lives of
individuals, as well as of the collective life of human
society so far as it comes within the range of such
political influence. The whole sphere of social
legislation comes under this head. But social legis-
lation and administration are not only concerned with
the poor and the helpless, with the betterment of
the conditions of life of those citizens who are in
direct need of support and guidance, to sustain life
and to save them from the brink of abject misery or
crime ; it is not only concerned with what are called
the lower classes, but with the claims of every class
which are to be regulated in due proportion and
harmony for the good of human society as a whole.
Toregu- We are but at the initial stages of that political
ctaim^of devd°Pment. in which the claims of the separate
all classes social groups, classes, and occupations are justly recog-
nitions.11" nised and organised. As yet these have only been
clearly expressed, formulated and frankly avowed by
what is called the Labour Party. But that party
will have to realise that, like its own claims to recog-

PRACTICAL IDEALS OF THE STATE 323

nition and realisation of its own corporate body,
similar claims can with equal justice be urged for the
collective representatives of other social groups
and occupations in a fully developed organic society.
It will, above all, have to realise that all these claims
can and must be recognised and harmonised by the
State ; and that such harmony, blending into the
unity of a well-organised modern State, is possible
and necessary and does not presuppose violent clash-
ing and conflict of interests. Social legislation will
more and more come to mean the direct endeavour
of the body politic to advance the social life of the
community in every direction ; to improve the
standards of living while improving the conditions
of life, and to approach more closely to the rational
ideals of what a perfect State and a perfect society
ought to be.

I know that it may be thought that thus to The prac-
put before practical politicians as a definite aim a*1^. f
spiritual object, directly and practically tending the ideals
towards the advance of humanity in the more in- state6
tangible moral spheres, may be considered to be
Utopian and the theory of a dreamer far removed
from the actualities of life. But fortunately history
affords numerous and undoubted instances in which
whole nations have joined in a supreme effort to work
for, to fight for, and to die for, such moral objects.
To select but two historical instances which were of
world-wide importance and called for the greatest
sacrifices : the Crusades of the Middle Ages and the
American Civil War stand out most forcibly. No
doubt it can be shown that there are many more
proximate and more material causes for these great
upheavals. For instance, in the American Civil War
the question of federation or confederation, and the
consequent divergence of material interests between
the North and South, played a great part. But there

324 DUTY TO THE STATE

can equally be no doubt that all these nations were
moved to action and to self-sacrifice by the ideals
which concerned humanity at large : the religious
faith of the Crusaders, and the conviction of the
unionists of the North that slavery was incompatible
with their higher ideals of humanity. It is not
Utopian or fantastic to maintain that every single
political act, which interest may dictate and oppor-
tunism condone, which flies in the face of humanity,
which, as an action of individuals or the State, lowers
or retards the advance of humanity, is a crime.

CHAPTER IV

DUTY TO HUMANITY

In several earlier passages, dealing with International
Relations, Chauvinism and Patriotism, and with Social
Duties, I have already entered upon the wider aspect
of humanity as well as the duties which thus present
themselves. But I wish now more definitely to
summarise these principles. Through our duty to
the State we are necessarily made to face our duty
to humanity at large. Nor will the fulfilment of our
duties in the narrower spheres, which we have hither-
to traversed and which have led us through the State
to the infinitely wider region of humanity, clash with
these ultimate duties with which they can be, and
must be, harmonised. The real difficulty in the
activity of the State and in the relation of States to
human society as a whole will always be to reconcile
the due care and regard for the mass of the people
who require protection and support in the conflict of
individualities of unequal strength, with the encourage-
ment of the strong and higher individualities, through
whom human society is actually advanced and humanity
draws nearer to its ideals. It is the great problem of
reconciling Socialism with Individualism. Such a
reconciliation is often considered to be hopeless and
is given up as such. But it is possible, nay necessary ;
only the two principles apply to different layers of
human society. The socialistic point of view, in
which the individual is restrained in deference to the

325

ism.

326 DUTY TO HUMANITY

The main rights of existence of all, in which the stronger is
the state checked in his dominating course in order to protect
internally and support the weaker, is right, if we consider only
tect the the weaker members of human society ; and it is
weak and right that our social legislation, the direct interven-
courage tion of the State in the processes of human competition,
**"* should be in the socialistic spirit and should be wholly

To recon- concerned with the poor and the weak. Old Age
claUsm" Pensions and National Insurance are clearly socialistic
and in- in character, and it is right that the State should thus
fulfil one of its primary duties of supporting and
protecting those who require such support and pro-
tection. It is equally right, and it will be realised
still more in the future, that the State must protect
itself and the community at large against the undue
power which, owing to dominant economical con-
ditions and the protection which the State affords,
tends to accrue to individuals in such a form and to
such a degree that it endangers the welfare of society
and the security of the State itself — is, in fact, against
" good policy." Congestion of capital into single
hands to such a degree that the power it affords,
without responsibility or control, becomes a danger
to society, must be checked by the constitutional
means which the State has at its disposal. As I have
previously said, I thus plead for socialism at the top
and bottom ; but for pure individualism in between.
Excess of wealth and excess of poverty must be
checked by collective legislation from a collective
point of view ; but when society is thus secure at
its two extremes, where the prohibitory action of the
State is called in to produce such security, full freedom
must be left to the individual to assert and to realise
superior powers, through which effort the individual
and society at large advance and are perfected.
Within the two extremes of the human scale inequality
is to be encouraged in order to give free scope to moral

LIBERTY, FRATERNITY, AND INEQUALITY 327

and intellectual forces. Until trade unions recognise
this, their activity will be immoral and retrograde.
Our motto must be : " Liberty, fraternity, and Liberty,
inequality." Democracy must never degenerate into fl?ter:
ochlocracy. Every democracy must be aristocratic equality,
in tendency and aim ; for with equality of oppor-
tunity it must encourage the realisation of the best.
Socrates, as recorded by Plato and by Xenophon,
has put the point in the simplest and most convincing
form by the parable of the flute-player who is good
and useful, and the helmsman who is good and use-
ful ; but we do not call in the helmsman to play
the flute, and we do not entrust the ship to the flute-
player.

The claims of the poor and humble, for which Christ
Christ pleaded, can be reconciled with those of the SiS**0
superman. As in the moral consciousness of the ciled.
individual charity and high ambition can and must
go hand in hand, so in the State the care of the poor
and feeble, their protection from the rapacious on-
slaught of the strong and grasping, all those acts of
legislation and administration which not only recog-
nise the lowly and the lowest, but ever tend to
establish and maintain equality of rights, must, on
the other hand, encourage the advance of strong and
superior individuals and corporate bodies, and raise
the standard of living and social efficiency. In so
far the State will confirm and encourage inequality.
All its functions will converge in ultimately raising
the ideals of humanity. Plato will then be reconciled
with Christ.

With the international relations of the State and
the duties of its citizens as patriots and as human
beings, I need not deal here, as the subject has been
discussed in the earlier parts of this book.

(b) THE DUTIES WHICH ARE NOT SOCIAL AND
THE IMPERSONAL DUTIES

The pro- In all our ethical considerations hitherto we have
tamof considered man, if not from the exclusively altruistic
human- point of view, at least from the social point of view.
We have conceived man too exclusively as Aristotle's
social animal (£wov ttoKltlkov). If this were the only
conception we form of man, our ethical system,
human morality, would be imperfect, if not com-
pletely at fault, both from a practical as well as a
theoretical point of view. As a matter of fact both
our ethical systems and the ethical thought and
the prevailing habit of mind among thinking and
conscientious people are defective, because they
conceive man exclusively, or at least too predomi-
nantly, merely as a social being, merely in his relation
to human society and to his fellow- men. Our ethical
thought thus suffers from " Human Provincialism "
— or perhaps more properly put, the " Provincialism
of Humanity." Our philosophy is, in the first place,
too social, and, in the second place, too psychological.
To introduce man where he is not needed is false,
as it blocks the way to the attainment of ultimate
truth. If this be so, even from the highest philoso-
phical point of view, it is also so in the ordinary
course of daily life ; for we do not, even in practice,
follow the purely social and psychological conception
of our duties. The labourer who works at a definite
task does not think of man, or the relation of his
work to man, while he is engaged upon it. Still less

328

EXAGGERATION OF THE SOCIAL ELEMENT 329

does the student of higher science allow the thought
of man to intrude into his search for truth. Thus
neither practically nor theoretically are we guided
by this primary conception of man's social nature. In
fact one of the supreme and most arduous tasks of
the scientific student and the philosopher is to discard
the personal equation, all human bias, the various
" idols " (as Bacon called them), which distort and
falsify truth and block the way to its secure establish-
ment. What we really do in practical life and strive
to do in the life of pure thought is, without consider-
ing human and social relationships and duties, to
perform the action and to solve the task we are
working at as perfectly as it can be performed, and,
as men, to approach as nearly as we can to the
perfect of the man we ought to be. We do this more
or less consciously, and we have before our minds
more or less clearly this pattern or ideal of ourself to
live up to. If this is so in our life, as we live it from
an ethical point of view, there is no doubt also that
it ought to be so.

Our ethics would thus not be complete, unless we Man must
adjust this one-sided exaggeration of the social, as ^decr°d~in
well as the psychological, bearings of the problem, himself
Man must be considered in himself, in his relation JJJp«£ s
to himself, and also to his ideal self ; also in his sona-\
relation to the world of things, to his actions, to things
functions, and duties in themselves, irrespective ofand.
their social bearing.

Man must also be considered in his relationship to Man in
nature and to the world, irrespective of the definite J-JJ'jk"
relationship which these on their part may hold to Nature,
man and to humanity, — he must break through the moS °nd
crust or tear the veil, pass beyond the restrictive God-
boundaries of " Humanitarian Provincialism." To
put it into philosophical terms : his final outlook
must not only be psychological, but must ultimately

330 DUTIES NOT SOCIAL, ETC.

lead him to that intellectual eminence where he can
become cosmological, metaphysical, and theological —
the climax of his whole spiritual life being now, as it
was in the past and as it will be in the future, his
religious life. The psychologist may remind us that,
after all, man can only think as man, neither as a
stone nor a plant, nor as a being from Mars or any
other planet, nor as a demi-god. But surely, as men,
we can and must conceive man not as a purely and
exclusively social being — and we constantly have
before us, without in any way appealing to our
philosophical thought, man's relation to nature and
to the universe and to infinity. Vast as this prospect
may appear to us, it will be found that it is applied
in our ordinary daily life, not only by thinkers and
leaders of men, but even by the humblest and most
thoughtless among us.

We have thus finally to consider : i . Our duty to
our self ; 2 . Our duty in respect of things and acts ;
3. Our duty to the world and to God.
Plato our In the ethical aspect of this threefold relation-
guide, ship, we must be guided by Plato. In realising,
both as regards ourselves and the definite functions
and activities of man, and finally as regards our
conception of the universe and the ultimate infinite
powers of all, the highest and the purest ideals which
we can form of each, with which we thus establish
a relationship, we may realise and emphasise our
own imperfection and our remoteness from such
ideals. But, all the same, such high mental activity
on our part will not end in an idle and resultless play
of the imagination and a dissipation of intellectual
energy ; but will be, and is, of the greatest practical
value in the sober and unfailing guidance of human
action towards the highest ethical goal.

CHAPTER V

DUTY TO OUR SELF

This duty to our Self, as we here conceive it, really
means the supreme and constraining power which,
through the exercise of the imagination, an ever-
present image of an ideal self has over us. Such an
active imagination and its power of enforcing itself
even upon the most sluggish temperament and
understanding is not limited to the most highly
developed among us, but is the possession of prac-
tically all human beings. In its lowest and, perhaps, Vanity,
reprehensible form, it manifests itself in vanity : in self~ .

r ' J ' respect,

the higher forms it leads to self-respect and practical idealism,
idealism. It, of course, includes, and is to a great ^odei or
extent made up of, man's conception of himself as a ideal of
social being. But it occupies the mind and stimulates 01
and guides action, not because of any definite social
relationship, but because of the relationship which
we hold to our self as a whole, to our own personality,
as it manifests itself to us in all acts of self-conscious-
ness. Our vanity, our self-respect, and our idealism
are gratified in the degree in which we are successful
or in which our individual achievement, or the
wholeness of our personality, conforms to the model,
or pattern, the ideal which we form of our self.

This even includes the essence of what we call con-
conscience. For whether conscience originally springs science-
from fear, or assumes a relation to beings outside and
beyond ourselves, its essence really is to be found in
the dominance which our ever-present conception of

331

332 DUTY TO OUR SELF

a perfect self has over our faltering and imperfect
self. The degree of the discomfort or pain which
conscience may evoke in us is measured by the
discrepancy between our actual self and the image
of our perfect self. Far more than most people
would admit, the effectiveness of our imagination in
thus appealing to a quasi-dramatic instinct in us, in
which we are acting our part, not so much in life's
play of which " all the world's a stage," but in that
smaller microcosmical world (infinitely great to us),
circumscribed by our actual and better self, in which,
under the promptership of imagination, the two
selves are at once actors and audience. Far more
than we would admit are we thus always acting a
part, evoking alternate applause and reproof, and
fashioning our course of action towards good or evil.
And if this is actually the case, it is right that it should
be so ; and what may in one aspect feed our lowest
vanity, in another produces our highest aspirations
and leads us onward and upward to the noblest and
best that is in man.
Moral it may even be held — and I for one do hold — that

self-de-

pendence the purest and, perhaps, the noblest guide to conduct
effi f^t* anc* to ^e rule °f the highest morality is to be found
standard in the establishment of such a relationship to our
trve^no". se^ *n a direct and effective intensity of moral
raiity. guidance. When our moral efforts — be it in the
repression of the lower instincts and desires or in the
exertion of all our energy and power towards work
and deeds that are good — are wholly independent
of a relationship to others, to their regard or approval,
but are determined by our self-respect and self-
realisation, they are more secure in producing truly
moral results. They are then established by our well-
trained habit or by our conscious determination to
live up to the most perfect image we have of our
self ; and, not only have we attained to a higher

ITS MORAL EFFICACIOUSNESS 333

stage of ethical development than when our eyes are
constantly turned to the social world about us,
but also, as moral social beings, as members of
society, we shall be more perfect and more secure in
our course of moral action. We shall thus strive to
make both body and mind perfect in their form
and in their function ; we shall endeavour to main-
tain that supreme harmony of being which the ancient
philosophers held up as the goal of man's efforts.
But more than this, we shall establish the greatest
security for our every act, and under all the most
fluid and varying conditions of environment, main-
tain the loftiness of our moral standards. This will
not only guide us in choosing in life those occupations
which are most likely to bring out the best that is
in us, that which brings us nearest to the totality of
our highest self, the ideal of our self ; not only will
it urge us to do our best work and to struggle against
fate and untoward circumstance in overcoming
opposition within and without ; but it will securely
confirm those social qualities which we must develop
in the interest of a harmonious society. The habits
which we thus form, the self-control we thus impose
upon ourselves, the amenities which we strive to culti-
vate to please our fellow-men and to improve social
intercourse, will have their perennial origin, justifica-
tion and vitalisation within ourselves, and will not be
affected by the uncertainty and mutability of for-
tuitous outer circumstances or depend upon confir-
mation from without. We shall be clean of body,
clear of mind, and delicate of taste, not to please
others or to win their approval, but because our own
self would not be perfect without such effort and
achievement. And we shall thus be furnished with
an efficient guide, not only in the loftier and more
spiritual spheres of our life and being, but even in
the humblest and most commonplace and lowly actions

334 DUTY TO OUR SELF

Not only of our varied existence. To cultivate our habits
highest °f bodily cleanliness ; to dress as appropriately and
sphere of tastefully as we can in conformity with our position
effort, but and activities ; to eat and drink, not only in modera-
ordinarv ^on> Dut in a manner expressive of refinement and
duties repressive of greed and animal voracity — to do all
amenities ^n^s» even if we were placed on a desert island,
of daily isolated from all social intercourse, simply because

life .

we wish to uphold in ourselves the best standards of
human civilisation and to make ourselves perfect
human beings, marks the highest, as well as the most
efficient, phase of ethical culture.

I cannot refrain from pointing these truths by
definite illustrations which in their very slightness
will emphasise my meaning. I have been assured by
a friend that, when he finds himself in a state of moral
indisposition and depression, his cure is to retire from
his friends, to work hard all day, and then in the
evening to dress with the greatest care and punctilious-
ness, arrange his room as perfectly as possible with
flowers bedecking the table, and after his evening
meal to turn to beautiful books or beautiful thoughts.
When, as a boy, he for the first time left his home,
his wise mother begged him as a personal favour not
to take even a hasty meal without washing ; and, if
others did not do it for him, that he should lay his
own cloth, be it only with a napkin, if he could not
find a tablecloth. She rightly felt how important it
was to guard, as a spontaneous and vital habit of
mind, the higher forms of civilisation and refinement.
On the other hand I have heard of a case where a
man, brought up and accustomed to civilised habits,
was found in the backwoods of Canada, where he
had lived as a lonely settler for some years without
even washing the plates after meals because, as he
put it, " the food all came from the same place and
went to the same place."

UNALTRUISTIC DUTIES 335

There is perhaps no phase of ethical teaching and The su-
discipline which requires more emphasis, develop- portance"
ment and insistence than the group of duties which of un-
ignore the social and directly altruistic aspect, and duties.
deal with the duties to ourselves, making them ulti- Mistake

of the ex*

mately, through conscious recognition, an efficient aggera-
ethical habit. For it appears to me that our ethical £^2^
vision has been distorted as regards true proportion,
its correctness and soundness impaired by the
exclusive, or at all events exaggerated, insistence upon
its moral, social and humanitarian province. It has
justified the strongest strictures and condemnation
of professed amoralists like Nietzsche, their oppo-
sition to the prevalent morality and the degeneracy
to which so-called altruism must lead. At the
same time such one-sided theories of social altruism
cannot tend to sane happiness : they can only main-
tain such a state of artificial euphoria by feverish
and continuous activity, submerging all consciousness
of self, in which we deceive or flatter ourselves into
believing that we are doing good to others. And
when we cease to act and stop to think, we are thrown
into a maze of restless querying as regards our own
relation to our fellow-men, which ends in depression
or even in despair. We can only be saved by following
Matthew Arnold's commandment to —

Resolve to be thyself, and know that he
Who finds himself loses his misery.

23

CHAPTER VI

DUTY TO THINGS AND ACTS

But we must at times go still farther in our efforts
of self-detachment. Not only beyond the social
aspect of our duties, but even beyond our own per-
sonalities, must we realise our definite duties to
things and our relation to our own acts. In this
form of supreme self-repression and self-detachment
for the time being, we must forget ourselves either in
pure contemplation or in definite activity and produc-
Absorp- tiveness. Pure contemplation finds its highest

tion and ... . . T . ,

concen- expression in science and in art. It constitutes man s
m^nt 1 m theoretic faculty. To realise this faculty in spiritual
and and in intellectual activity makes of thought and
work emotion an activity in itself, and has led mankind
to its highest sphere of human achievement, namely,
the development of sciences and arts. But we are
chiefly concerned with action and achievement them-
selves as distinct from thought and pure emotion.
Such action is likely to be the more sane, perfect and
effective the more vigorous and concentrated it is
in its energy, the more our will commands and directs
our energies, as well as our passion and physical
strength, to do the thing before us, and to forget
ourselves in the doing of it. " Whatsoever thy hand
findeth to do, do it with thy might."

Now, as there is an ideal of a human being, the
ideal or type for animal and organic beings, in fact
for all forms in nature, so there is a type and ideal

336

INVENTIONS AND IMPROVEMENTS 337

for each definite act — the perfect act. This is a neces-
sary conclusion of the Platonic idea and of Aristotle's
ti/T6\e%6ta. The degree in which, while acting, we
approach this ideal perfection of the act itself deter-
mines our triumph or failure, our satisfaction or dis-
content. The dissatisfaction and depression which
we feel when we are not successful, the divine dis-
content out of which all great effort and great
achievements grow, produces in us a conscience,
irrespective of our social instincts, irrespective even imper-
of our own personality, and is, perhaps, of all our sonaI
moral impulses the highest as it is the most effective, science.
Besides this ethical bearing, it has the most supreme
practical bearing in life ; for only through it does
man do his best, individually and collectively. All
improvements, inventions and discoveries find their
unassailable justification and effective origin in this
principle of human activity.

No doubt there are no new achievements, no dis-The
coveries or inventions, which from the mere fact j^nof *"
of their novelty do not alter the existing state of invention
things to which they are related, do not in their sfc/J."
turn destroy what actually exists and affect adversely Prove-

1 11 1 ii 1 • • -ment.

those who have depended upon the existing state of
things. In so far as this is so they may produce pain
and want and misery, and much may be urged
against their claims from other points of view. But
we must ever strive to produce new inventions and
new improvements, not so much to increase the for-
tunes of the discoverers or promotors, not for the
1 merchants, not even for the labouring populations, to
' whom the exceptional control of such improvements
or facilities of production gives an advantage over
others ; but because perfected production of objects,
man's increased control over chance, over nature, man's
defiance of restricted time and space, are thereby
advanced. It is therefore immoral artificially to

338 DUTY TO THINGS AND ACTS

immor- impede or to retard improvements or to lower the
impeding quantity or quality of production. To take a definite
best pro- instance, which the individual artisan and the or-
ganised union of working-men should remember :
The bricklayer's duty is to do his best work as a brick-
layer, to lay as many bricks and to lay them as per-
fectly as possible in as short a time as possible ;
not so much to increase the wealth of his employer
(though this too is his duty, and his definite com-
pact), or his own wealth ; but because of the ideal of
bricklaying, which must be the ideal of his active
existence. The supreme and final justification of his
work is to be found in the work itself, irrespective
even of human beings, of human society, of humanity.
Social But I feel bound to qualify what I have considered

which from one aspect only, though in its absolute and
may unassailable truth, by not only admitting, but by
ourac> urging the facts that there are other duties with
tions as which man individually, and men collectively, have
by the to deal ; though these in no way weaken the abso-
imper- luteness of our ideals of impersonal work. We must
duties, also consider, recognise and be guided in our action
by, the incidental and temporary suffering frequently
following in the wake of discoveries and inventions.
It will, therefore, devolve on society to alleviate and,
if possible, to remove such incidental suffering
brought upon a limited group of individuals for the
benefit of society and absolutely justified by the
impersonal improvement of human work and pro-
duction. Social legislation will here have to step in
and to supplement insurance against old age, against
disease, and even unavoidable unemployment, by
insurance against acute and temporary forms of
unemployment and dislocations of labour caused by
such improvements and inventions. Such social
legislation and the relief given to the unavoidable
suffering of groups of people will be exceptional ;

PERFECTION OF WORKMANSHIP 339

but it is moral and practically justifiable, if not
imperative, on the ground that the community at
large, and even future generations, will benefit by the
introduction of the improvements which necessarily
cause temporary individual suffering. To give but
one definite instance : The undoubted blessing which
motor traffic has bestowed upon mankind has neces-
sarily brought suffering and misery to groups of people
entirely dependent upon the superseded means of
transport ; while it has also caused discomfort to the
mass of the population. It was but right that all
efforts should have been made, on the one hand, to
support the cabmen and others who live by horse
traffic during the period when these new inventions
forcibly deprived them of the very means of sub-
sistence ; while, on the other hand, public effort
ought at once to have been directed towards securing
the lives of pedestrians threatened by the new
invention and the danger to health and comfort caused
by the production of dust on the roads.

But these separate duties, called into being by the The duty
improvement of production and the expansion ofjSIJjJj
human skill and activity, in no way diminish the most par-
absolute duty to further such improvement and to |ta^f
concentrate the energy which man should bring to the remains
perfecting of his work as such. Our supreme duty to
things and to acts remains ; and we must act thus,
not so much on grounds of human altruism, not as
social beings in our direct relation to other beings
and our intercourse with them ; but simply in our
relation to the objects which we are to produce, to
modify or to effect, with a view to making our pro-
duction as perfect as possible, even if we were the
only human beings in the universe. I may be
allowed here to quote two didactic poems which
illustrate this ethical principle with forcible truth and
with beauty of form. The one is Matthew Arnold's

340 DUTY TO THINGS AND ACTS

U Self-Dependence," from which I have already quoted
above,the other is George Eliot's poem " Stradivarius ":

SELF-DEPENDENCE

Weary of myself, and sick of asking

What I am, and what I ought to be,
At this vessel's prow I stand, which bears me

Forwards, forwards, o'er the starlit sea.

And a look of passionate desire

O'er the sea and to the stars I send :

Ye who from my childhood up have calm'd me,
Calm me, ah, compose me to the end !

" Ah, once more," I cried, " ye stars, ye waters,
On my heart, your mighty charm renew ;

Still, still let me, as I gaze upon you,
Feel my soul becoming vast like you ! "

From the intense, clear, star-sown vault of heaven,

Over the lit sea's unquiet way,
In the rustling night-air came the answer :

" Wouldst thou be as these are ? Live as they.

" Unaff righted by the silence round them,

Undistracted by the sights they see,
These demand not that the things without them

Yield them love, amusement, sympathy.

" And with joy the stars perform their shining,
And the sea its long moon-silver' d roll ;

For self-poised they live, nor pine with noting
All the fever of some differing soul.

" Bounded by themselves, and unregardful
In what state God's other works may be,

In their own tasks all their powers pouring,
These attain the mighty life you see."

O air-born voice ! long since, severely clear,
A cry like thine in mine own heart I hear :

" Resolve to be thyself ; and know that he
Who finds himself, loses his misery ! "

STRADIVARIUS 341

STRADIVARIUS

Antonio then :
" I like the gold — well, yes — but not for meals.
And as my stomach, so my eye and hand,
And inward sense that works along with both.
Have hunger that can never feed on coin.
Who draws a line and satisfies his soul,
Making it crooked where it should be straight ?
An idiot with an oyster-shell may draw
His lines along the sand, all wavering.
Fixing no point or pathway to a point ;
An idiot one remove may choose his line,
Straggle and be content ; but God be praised,
Antonio Stradivari has an eye
That winces at false work and loves the true,
With hand and arm that play upon the tool
As willingly as any singing bird
Sets him to sing his morning roundelay,
Because he likes to sing and likes the song."

Then Naldo : " 'Tis a petty kind of fame
At best, that comes of making violins ;
And saves no masses, either. Thou wilt go
To purgatory none the less."

But he:
" 'Twere purgatory here to make them ill ;
And for my fame — when any master holds
'Twixt chin and hand a violin of mine,
He will be glad that Stradivari lived,
Made violins, and made them of the best.
The masters only know whose work is good :
They will choose mine, and while God gives them skill
I give them instruments to play upon,
God choosing me to help Him."

" What ! were God
At fault for violins, thou absent ? "

" Yes ;
He were at fault for Stradivari's work."

" Why, many hold Giuseppe's violins
As good as thine."

342 DUTY TO THINGS AND ACTS

" May be : they are different.
His quality declines : he spoils his hand
With over-drinking. But were his the best,
He could not work for two. My work is mine,
And, heresy or not, if my hand slacked
I should rob God — since He is fullest good —
Leaving a blank instead of violins.
I say, not God Himself can make man's best
Without best men to help Him. I am one best
Here in Cremona, using sunlight well
To fashion finest maple till it serves,
More cunningly than throats, for harmony.
'Tis rare delight : I would not change my skill
To be the Emperor with bungling hands,
And lose my work, which comes as natural
As self at waking."

" Thou art little more
Than a deft potter's wheel, Antonio ;
Turning out work by mere necessity
And lack of varied function. Higher arts
Subsist on freedom — eccentricity —
Uncounted inspirations — influence
That comes with drinking, gambling, talk turned wild,
Then moody misery and lack of food —
With every dithyrambic fine excess :
These make at last a storm which flashes out
In lightning revelations. Steady work
Turns genius to a loom ; the soul must lie
Like grapes beneath the sun till ripeness comes
And mellow vintage, I could paint you now
The finest Crucifixion ; yesternight
Returning home I saw it on a sky
Blue-black, thick-starred. I want two louis d'ors
To buy the canvas and the costly blues —
Trust me a fortnight."

n Where are those last two
I lent thee for thy Judith ? — her thou saw'st
In saffron gown, with Holofernes' head
And beauty all complete ? "

CUI BONO? 343

" She is but sketched :
I lack the proper model — and the mood.
A great idea is an eagle's egg,
Craves time for hatching ; while the eagle sits,
Feed her."

"If thou wilt call thy pictures eggs
I call the hatching, Work. Tis God gives skill,
But not without men's hands : He could not make
Antonio Stradivari's violins
Without Antonio. Get thee to thy easel."

I end with another illustration from my Cui Bono ? —

" . . . ' Have you nothing more to say about the
use of science ? '

" ' I have, sir, but before I do so I should like to
repeat an interesting confession of one of my friends
which will put the arguments in favour of scientific
pursuits in a more personal and direct manner. He
is a colleague of mine, a distinguished archaeologist,
and teaches his subject at our university. Some time
ago he made a striking discovery, one of a series he
had made in his work. He had found in a foreign
museum a marble head, which, by means of his
careful and systematic observation and comparison
of works of ancient art, a method developed in his
science in the most accurate manner by several
great scholars, he at once recognised as belonging to
a statue by Pheidias in London. A cast of the head
was made for him by the authorities of the foreign
museum. He took it to London, and there, to his
own delight and that of all people who love the
masterpieces of Greek art, when he tried this head
on the neck of the beautiful female figure, each fracture
fitted exactly. The precious work of art from the
age of Pericles, of the art of Pheidias, was now com-
plete, after it had remained incomplete for centuries.

u ' When, one day, I was congratulating him
upon his discovery, and saying to him, how happy he
must have been thatTmoment,?and how contented he
must be with the successful pursuit of the vocation

344 DUTY TO THINGS AND ACTS

he had chosen in life, a discussion similar to the one
we are now carrying on ensued, and in it he made
to me the following confession as to the light in which
at various moments his work appeared to him, and
the varying degrees of moral justification which he
then recognised as underlying his efforts.

" ' " When I am quite well in body and mind," he
said, " I work on with delight and vigour. It is pure
joy : I never question the Tightness and supreme ne-
cessity of my work at all. Nothing in this world
appears to me of greater importance for me to work
at, and I am almost convinced that the world could
not get on without my work. ' Convinced ' is not the
right word : for I do not think about this general
question at all. But at the bottom of this joyous
expenditure of creative energy lies this conviction,
and all the justifications which I must now enumerate.
For, as my moral or physical health sinks, one of them
after the other drops off, until I am left with but the
feeble support of the last lame excuse for exertion
with which I limp or crawl through my deep dejec-
tion and melancholy.

ut " With the first disturbance of moral or physical
sanity, I begin to doubt and query. It is the first
stage of the disease ; but I am still full of high and
sound spirits. Besides all the others, I feel one
supreme motive to action which is of the highest
religious order, so high that but few people will be
able to understand it, and still fewer can sympathise
with it and be moved by it.

11 ' " I look upon my individual work and creation
as part of the great universe, even beyond humanity.
I even transcend the merely human or social basis
of ethics, and I feel myself in communion with the
world in all its infinite vastness.

" ' " I know this sounds like mysticism, but I assure
you it is both clear and real to me. I then feel that
if there were in this world no single human being to
love or care for, instruct or amuse, my work would still
be necessary, in view of the great harmony of things,
to which right actions, truth discovered, and beauty
formed, contribute, as their contraries detract from it.

CUI BONO? 345

" ' " Were there no single person living," he con-
tinued, with growing warmth of enthusiasm, " it would
be right, nay necessary, for me to discover that head
in the foreign museum. That head lay ' pining '
there in the foreign museum for years, and for cen-
turies under the earth before it was excavated, until
/ came, and by the knowledge I possessed (which
means the accumulated effort of many learned men
establishing the method, as well as my years of pre-
paration and education in acquiring it and making
it my own), by this science of mine, I joined it to that
torso, that imperfect fragment of a thing, and made
it whole — a living work of art fashioned by the master
genius, whose existence, two thousand years ago,
became part of the world's richness for all time. So
long as that head and that torso remained separate,
there was discord and not harmony in the world's
great Symphony, the world was so much the poorer,
so much the less beautiful and good. I made the
world richer by my act, more harmonious, more
beautiful ; and thus, without self-love or even love
of man, I proved my love of God. That is the Amor
Dei. Then we are enthusiastic in the Greek sense
of the word, we are full of God.

" ' " In the next stage, when my spirits flag some-
what, and reflection and then doubt begin to come over
me, I cannot feel moved by this widest and grandest
assurance of the bearings of my science. But, in
addition to the lower justifications, I then quiet
my doubts by the feeling that my work and my
teaching are one element in the establishment, in-
crease, and spread of what we call civilisation,
culture, and general education. Human life becomes
more elevated and refined by the sum of our efforts.
Without good archaeologists, and the consequent of
the past, our civilisation would not be as perfect as
it is.

" ' "Then, when I sink still lower, and can no longer
feel this more general conception of human life, I can
still feel that the effect upon those for whom I write
and those whom I teach will be refining, and will
bring true Hellenism (not the pseudo-Hellenism of

346 DUTY TO THINGS AND ACTS

morally degenerate sciolists), nearer to them ; and
also that I increase their capital of refined intel-
lectual enjoyment, their intellectual resources and
their taste.

" ' " And when I am lowest of all, I say to myself
that I am making good professional archaeologists
and curators of museums, am training good school-
masters for our public schools, and am at least help-
ing these young men to a profession, giving them the
means of earning a living.

" ' " When I have arrived at that stage of dejection
and lowness of spirits ; I jog on in a ' from hand to
mouth ' existence ; but I feel that, the sooner I can
get a good holiday and some rest, the better it will
be for me." ' "

CHAPTER VII

DUTY TO GOD

The duty to things and actions necessarily and cosmical
logically leads us to the further and final course to D^ySto
which, in the rising scale of ethical thought, they God.
tend. In man's ethical progression through human e glon*
functions as such, through the objects which man
wishes to produce or to modify in nature, he is neces-
sarily led to his ultimate duties towards the world
as a whole, not only the world as his senses and per-
ceptions cause him to realise it, as it is, with all the
limitations which his senses and his powers impose
upon him ; but the world as his best thought, and
his imagination, guided by his highest reason, lead
him to feel that it ought to be — his ideal world. This
brings him to his duty towards his highest and most
impersonal ideals of an ordered universe, a cosmos,
and of unlimited powers beyond the limitations of
his capacities — his duty to God. Ethics here natur-
ally, logically, necessarily, lead to, and culminate in,
religion.

The supreme duty in this final phase of ethics, supreme
man's religious duties, is truth to his religious SjjLf*
ideals. It is here, more than in any other phase of fulness to
his activities, that there can and ought to be no-jjjfjj"18
compromise. This is where he approaches the ideal No com-
world in all its purity, free from all limitations and po^ie.
modifications by the imperfections of things tem-
poral and material, as well as his own erring senses

347

348 DUTY TO GOD

and perceptive faculties. There are no practical or
social relationships, no material ends to be considered,
no material interests to be served or advantages
gained. The only relationship is that between him-
self and his spiritual powers and the highest ideals
which these enable him to formulate or feel. His
duty, therefore, is to strive after his highest ideals of
harmony, power, truth, justice and charity. Nor
does this function of the human mind and this craving
of the human heart require exceptional intellectual
power or training. On the contrary, the history of
the human race has shown that at every phase of
human existence, even the earliest and most rudi-
mentary, in the very remote haze of prehistoric
times, the presence of this religious instinct and man's
effort to satisfy it are manifested, even though it
necessarily be in the crudest, the most unintelligent
and even barbarous forms of what we call super-
stition and idolatry.
Man's Man's every desire and every experience neces-

u.mita- , sarily have a religious concomitant. At every mo-
imper- ment of his conscious existence he is reminded of
neces-nS imperfection and limitation without, and incapacity
sarily within, himself. This very consciousness is the main-
thecon- spring of all endeavour, of all will-power, of all the
ceptions exertion of his physical or mental capacities. For,
mind of each conscious experience, as well as each desire and
*he.u°" effort, has, as a counterpart to its limitation, the
and more or less present or complete consciousness of its

perfect. perfect fulfilment. Limitation in time and space
implies infinity ; limitation in power implies omni-
potence ; limitation in knowledge implies omni-
science ; injustice, justice ; cruelty, charity. Even
if the limitation or the incapacity is admitted, and
even if the tutored mind ceases from dwelling upon
it as it realises the impossibility clearly to grasp
and to encompass the unlimited and relegates such

RELIGIOUS IDEALS 349

fantastic cravings to the region of the absurd, through
long and continuous rationalistic training and habit,
this only confirms the correlative conception of
infinite power. The consciousness that we cannot
span the world, regulate the powers of nature accord-
ing to our will, dominate the seasons and check the
course of the tides — not to mention the limitations of
every individual and commonplace action of ours —
implies our conception of such power and such
complete achievement.

The higher our spiritual flight and the more highly The
trained we are through experience and through hlgh.er
thought in the range of our imagination and our teMgence,
reason, the higher will be our ideals of the infinite JJjJ ^er
and the omnipotent. The Greek philosopher Xeno- perience,
phanes said, many centuries ago, that if lions could ^ore
draw, they would draw the most perfect lions as their thorough
god, and that the god of negroes would be flat-nosed ing, the
and black. Thus necessarily individuals, the col- J^J T
lective groups of men, and the different periods within our re-
man's history will all vary in their capacity to j1^^
approach this conception of the highest ideals ; they the more
will differ in their theology and in their religion. ^upersti-

But their supreme duty, from an ethical point of tionbe re-
view, in their attitude towards religion, is truth. They religion,
must strive so to develop their religious nature that Duty to
it responds to their highest moral and intellectual 9°d,.

f ... implies,

capacity. They must not accept any religious ideal above ail
that contradicts the rising scale of duties from the ^°^l'
lower and narrower spheres upwards as we have man must
enumerated them. All duties must harmonise anduveupto
culminate in the ultimate ideals which belong to the this gra-
religious sphere. Credo quia impossibile must never Qf his
mean Credo quia absurdum. Man commits a grave religious
sin, perhaps the gravest of all, by lowering his religious
ideals, by allowing himself, on whatever grounds of
expediency and compromise, to vitiate the divine

350 DUTY TO GOD

reason he possesses as the highest gift in human
nature, and by admitting the irrational into his con-
ception of the Divinity.
Ethics, By this I in no way mean to say that either ethics,
andart science or ar"t can m any way replace religion : though
cannot in their highest ideal flights they closely approach
reEgion. to religion and even merge into it. Of all human
Pure activities in science, pure mathematics, which deals
matics with the highest immaterial relationships, comes
and pure nearest to the ideal sphere of theology, and indicates

music. . . . . °

Pythag- the direction for religious emotion to take ; and of
oras. an tne artS) pure music (not programme music), un-
fettered by definite material objects and individual
experiences in the outer world, also approaches most
closely in its tendency to some realisation of cosmical
and religious ideals. We can thus divine the depth
of effort manifested in the philosophy of Pythagoras,
who maintained that number was the essence of all
things, and who suggested the music of the spheres.
But these are only signposts on the high road of
thought, where science and art give lasting expression
to the onward and upward course of human reason ;
they cannot of themselves satisfy the religious
instinct and the religious craving of man which draws
him onwards to his highest ideals.
Ethics If science and art cannot thus replace religion, ethics,

lead to which is directly and immediately practical, is equally
unable to do so. In fact, ethics must culminate in
religious ideals. Man's duty towards the perfection
of his acts, to the universe at large, as we have
endeavoured to indicate it above, logically leads us
to and in itself presupposes and predemands some
conception of a final, summary harmony to which
all human activity tends. All our rational and moral
activity demands the consciousness of a final end,
not in chaos, but in cosmos ; not irrational, but
rational ; not evil, but good ; not towards the Evil

CULTIVATION OF RELIGIOUS FEELING 351

One, but towards God. Without this infinite boun-
dary to all our thought and action, desires and
efforts, man's conscious world would not differ from
a madhouse or a gambler's den, or a vast haunt of
vice and criminality. Without this upward idealistic
impulse all conscious human activity would either
sink downward to lower animal spheres or errati-
cally whirl round and round in drunken mazes ; it
would lose all guidance and ultimate direction, and
be purely at the mercy of fickle chance or relentless
passion and greed.

But this upward idealistic impulse itself, as a Emo-
lasting and dominating emotion, must be cultivated, fcona^nd
just as, we have seen before, ethics must become education
emotional and aesthetic to be practically effective. ~^^WM
We have also seen that each ethical injunction need feelings,
not be, and ought not to be, consciously present in
the mind of him who is to act rightly ; for it would
weaken, if not completely dissolve, our will-power
and our active energy. It would ultimately lead to
the dreamer or the pedant who dreams while he
ought to be awake, and who idly thinks while he ought
to act. The step must be made from the intellectual
to the emotional sphere ; the moral injunction ought
to be made part of our emotional system through
habituation — it must become subconscious, almost
instinctive, if not purely aesthetic — a matter of taste.
Rational and efficient education must, from our
earliest infancy, tend to convert this conscious
morality into a subconscious and fundamental moral
state. We must not rest on our oars to think while
we ought to be rowing, and risk being carried away
by the unreasoning current of circumstance.

Still, there will be moments when we must thus Scale of
rest on our oars, when we must set the house in duties-
which we live in order, when we must ponder over
and test the broad principles upon which we act. We
24

352 DUTY TO GOD

must then bring into harmony and proportion the
ascending scale of duties, regulating the lower by
the higher in due subordination and discarding the
lower that will not bear the final test of the higher,
until we reach the crown of human existence in our
religious ideals.

But in all this idealistic ascent we must cultivate
the passion for such upsoaring idealism, and it is in
our final religious impulses that the emotional, nay
the mystical, element must itself be nurtured and
cultivated. Without this crown of life, life will
always be imperfect. The striving for the infinite,
which cannot be apprehended and reduced to intel-
lectual formulae, must itself be strengthened and
encouraged in the young and through every phase
of our life onward to the grave. Let us see that these
ideals are not opposed to our highest reason and
truth as far as we have been able to cultivate these
in ourselves. But whether our ultimate intellectual
achievement and our grasp of truth be high or low,
we cannot forego the cultivation and strengthening
of our religious emotions. Whoever believes in the
dogmatic teaching of any of the innumerable sects
and creeds that now exist, truthfully and with the
depth of his conviction, let him cling to that creed
and the usages, rites and ceremonies of the church or
chapel, synagogue, mosque, graves, or sacred shrines
and haunts in which his religious emotions are fed
and strengthened. But, if he does not truthfully
believe in the creed and dogmas, he must not subscribe
to them, or he will be committing the supreme sin
against his best self, " against the Holy Ghost." But
for those, however, whose religious ideals cannot be
compassed or bettered by any dogmatic creed that is
now established and recognised, let them not forego
the cultivation of their religious emotions, which, as
both past experience and all active reasoning teach

ESTHETIC INCENTIVES TO RELIGION 353

us, must be created and strengthened by emotional
setting, by an atmosphere removed from the absorbing,
interested activities of daily life.

The question for these people is, Where and how How and
can religious emotion thus be encouraged and culti- ^f^ose
vated ? It seems to me that there are two possible who
methods by which this crying demand can be re- belong
sponded to : either in the domestic sphere within to fixed
the family, or within the churches themselves, amid sects and
the religious associations of the past and the re- cr<re .ds ^

,. . ° , , . , . . , cultivate

hgious atmosphere which is essential to them. religious

As regards the home and the family as the centre ®™°g ?
for religious worship, some indication of the direction xhe
which such a domestic and family religious cult might family
take can be derived from Japanese ancestor-worship tombs.'
which is so vital and so potent an element in the
life of that people. As has been pointed out by
Nobushige Hozumi,1 Japanese ancestor-worship can
co-exist with any variety of religious beliefs, doctrines,
and creeds. For us, it has in its turn become stereo-
typed in its formal ritual to such a degree that it could
never be accepted in its actual form by those who
brought unbiased criticism to bear upon its binding
injunctions. But the essential fact in its ritual,
that it establishes within each family and each
household a sacred chamber or altar, of itself sancti-
fied by piety and gratitude towards our ancestors,
and thus effectively upholding the family spirit, the
family honour, with common strivings towards
higher moral and ideal ends ; furthermore, that it
becomes the natural focus for solemn gatherings
and lends spiritual elevation by association and
emotional stimulus to the silent prayer of the indi-
vidual or the collective worship of the whole family —
these elements make of it the fit local and physical
setting for religious communion or for silent self-

1 Ancestor-worship and Japanese Law, 19 13.

354 DUTY TO GOD

communion or prayer when the individual desires
to establish his solemn relationship with his highest
ideals.
The ex- Beyond this domestic and family sphere, however,
churches. we possess in every country the churches and shrines
associated with definite beliefs in the present and
with continuous religious aspirations for centuries
in the past. Not only these associations, but the
aesthetic qualities in the architecture and decorative
art within and without, possessed by so many, make
them the most suitable places for man's spiritual
devotion. If the guardians of these sacred buildings
admit, as they must, that religious aspirations and
desires are in themselves good ; that it is better for
those who differ from them in creed to have some
religion, and that they should cultivate their re-
ligious aspirations rather than that they should have
no religion at all and drift through life without any
such higher striving, they will surely lend a hand
to support their brethren in their highest efforts,
even if they differ from them in form and creed.
Let us hope that all our churches and religious
buildings will at certain definite times, when not
required for the special worship to which they are
dedicated, open their doors to those holding different
views. These buildings ought in the future, even
more than at present, to become the centres of purest
art, graphic or musical. These fellow strivers may
then receive the inestimable benefit of some stimu-
lation in their endeavours silently to commune with
their highest ideals, to pray, to think or to feel, and
to cultivate their truly religious spiritual emotions.

EPILOGUE

At the end of this attempt to put into logical and
intelligible form an outline scheme for the moral
regeneration of our own times and of the Western
civilised nations, a regeneration which of itself would
make a war, such as the one from which the whole of
civilised humanity is now suffering, impossible in the
future, I must ask myself whether any good can
come from such an effort, whether the mere exposi-
tion of truths, and even the realisation and admission
of these truths on the part of those who read what I
have written, will in any way alter the course of
events or the lives of the millions of people who cause
these events to take place as they do ? Is Nietzsche,
and are many other philosophers, right in main-
taining that the mass of the people do not like what
they consider superior to themselves and to the
general standard of life about them, that they are in
reality opposed to their leaders and inimical to what
they consider above average existence ? Even if —
which is doubtful — what I have here written should
reach the eyes of the people who rule by sheer numbers,
and if I were able to convince them of the lightness of
what is here put before them, would such an achieve-
ment in the slightest way modify the course of
individual or collective action ? A man must be
very young or very arrogant who believes that even
the most unassailable truths to which he is able to
give expression will of themselves influence the great
currents of human passion and action.

355

356 EPILOGUE

On the other hand, man's history in the past has
proved one truth above all others : namely, that only
ideas last, and that truth must prevail in the end.
Moreover, it has proved that the great thinkers of
bygone days have thus set their stamp and seal
upon their own age, and especially upon succeeding
ages. In the immediate past, the past that has
led up to the present day, in the disasters with
which we are all so sadly concerned, we can recog-
nise— and those who have studied the question must
admit it — that the Germany of the generation pre-
ceding the present one was fashioned in its char-
acter, in its ideals, in its collective, and in its individual
national life, by the expressed thoughts, the words,
and the writings of such disciples of truth as were
Kant, Fichte, Shelling and Hegel. The Germany —
not Prussia — of the generation preceding 1870 was
made what it was by the thought of such men,
filtering through the students of their philosophy
down to even the unthinking and illiterate masses
of the people. Since then, since 1870, not only Bis-
marck and Moltke and the present Kaiser are
responsible for the Germany that is, but, perhaps
even more than these, Treitschke, and even Schopen-
hauer, von Hartmann, and Nietzsche have created
the fundamental and ultimate and still the most
pervasive and efficient mentality of the young
Germany of to-day. If this be true, and if there be
virtue in what I have written in this book, there may
be some hope that I have not worked in vain, and
that some good, though it fall far short of the hopes
that have stirred me to make this effort, may come out
of what I have done. In any case, I may be allowed
to say to myself :

Dixi et animam meam liberavi.

APPENDIXES

Appendix I

PASSAGES ON CHAUVINISM FROM PREVIOUS
PUBLICATIONS

From Preface to Expansion of Western Ideals and the
World's Peace, 1899 :

My greatest fear is that, from the nature of the subject,
and from the special conditions which evoked my remarks,
I may not have been able on this occasion to give proper
emphasis to my positive and friendly feeling for the Euro-
pean Powers that are essentially the bearers of Occidental
civilisation. In urging the coalition and combined action
of England and the United States, I have but seized the
opportunity offered of advocating the union of the two
civilised Powers who are best fitted by present circumstances
to draw nearer to each other, and who, from the fundamental
constitution of their national life, are more closely related
to one another than any other two Powers in the civilised
world. Whatever negative attitude may be manifest in this
lecture towards the other civilised Powers of the European
Concert is due to the fact that these Powers have, by their
recent action, shown themselves to be opposed to any closer
union between the United States and Great Britain ; that
by several of their institutions, as well as by their foreign
and commercial policy, they are not yet prepared for a more
general federation of civilised nations ; and that the pre-
vailing spirit of Ethnological Chauvinism among them is
not only an impediment to wider humanitarian brotherhood,
but is destructive of the inner peace and good-will among
the citizens of each nation. I feel so strongly what I have
said of this curse of Ethnological Chauvinism that if it were
possible to create effective leagues and associations among
the civilised nations, and, moreover, associations with a
negative or defensive object, I should like to urge the institu*

357

358 ETHNOLOGICAL CHAUVINISM

tion of a great Anti-Chauvinistic League among the enlight-
ened people of all nationalities, to join together in com-
bating this evil spirit in whatever form it may manifest itself.
But I am not so visionary as to think that such a league could
be formed at the present juncture.

From The Expansion of Western Ideals and the World's
Peace, 1899, pp. 136 seq. :

It is interesting to note that the extreme and unbalanced
form of so-called patriotism which is now designated by the
term Chauvinism had its origin in the time of Napoleon,
when Chauvin lived as the unbounded admirer of that great
leader of men. But Chauvinism can in no sense be called an
outcome, or even a modification, of patriotism. They are
two distinct, if not opposed, ideas, the following of either of
which points to characters and temperaments as different
as the generous are from the covetous. Patriotism is a posi-
tive attitude of the soul, Chauvinism is a negative tendency
or passion. Patriotism is the love of, and devotion to, the
fatherland, to the wider or more restricted home, and to the
common interests and aspirations and ideals of these. Chau-
vinism marks the antagonistic attitude to all persons, interests,
and ideas, not within this wider or narrower conception of
the fatherland or home. Patriotism is love, Chauvinism is
jealousy. The one is generous, the other is envious. The
loving temperament makes for expansion, the jealous tends
towards contraction and restriction. While the patriot who
loves his people and his country is therefore likely to be
tolerant, even generous and affectionate, towards the stranger,
the Chauvinist is likely to turn the burning fire of his ani-
mosity inwards, within the narrow spheres and groupings
of even his own country. Now, this vice of hatred and envy,
which may (alas !) be ingrained deep down in human nature,
may have existed in all times and places of human history
and may have been predominant in some ; yet in our own
times it has received a peculiar character, a special formula-
tion, with an attempt at justification. I have tried to
qualify the general Chauvinism in the form predominant in
our time by the attribute of Ethnological Chauvinism.

The origin of this social disease within the nations of Europe
may be traced back first to Napoleon, when, with the inner
growth of France and its power, and his successes in Italy,
he coupled the enfeeblement, if not the destruction, of the
German Empire by splitting it up into insignificant princi-
palities under his own influence. There is no doubt he

PASSAGES ON CHAUVINISM 359

conceived the bold idea of the predominance of the Latin
race and Empire over the Teutonic race and over the world
in general. But he found himself wedged in between two
forces which checked the advance of this Latin hegemonia,
and which ultimately crushed him. On the one side was
the Slav, on the other side was the Anglo-Saxon. He suc-
ceeded for the time in repressing the Teuton, but he failed
both in Russia and in his struggle with Great Britain.

As a reaction against this Latin wave which submerged
the Teuton Empire, the German patriots endeavoured to
restore the vitality of the sturdy Teutonic oak. But while
the Latin Crusade had for its inspiring preacher the great
leader and man of action himself, the Germanic revival fell
to the lot of the theorist and thinker, and a German philo-
sopher and professor, Fichte, in his Reden an die Deutsche
Nazion, is the fullest exponent of these views. These, again,
are further formulated and carried into the realms of romantic
thought, theory, and science by the learned enthusiasts who
led the Revolution of 1848 in Germany.

But again there turned up a great man of action, who,
knowing his countrymen and the trend of the times, utilised
all these currents to weld together the separate blocks —
smoothly polished and florid marbles of prince-ridden princi-
palities, and clumsy, unhewn stones and rubble-stones of
independent cities and towns — the huge edifice of the German
Empire. The scientific spirit which was pervading the
civilised world of Western Europe was recognised by Bis-
marck as a useful force which could be turned into practical
advantage for the great purpose he had in view. He called
upon the German professor — even the ethnologist, philolo-
gist, and historian — and they obeyed his command with
readiness and alacrity. The theoretical and scientific lever
with which these huge building blocks were to be raised
in order to construct the German Empire was to be the
scientific establishment of the unity of the German people
based upon the unity of Germanic races. An historical basis
for German unity was not enough ; an ethnological, racial
unity had to be established. The historical and philological
literature of German university professors belonging to the
time of Bismarck's ascendancy can almost be recognised and
classified by their relation to the problem of establishing,
fixing, and distinguishing from those of other races, the laws
and customs, literature, languages, and religions, the life
and thought, the productions and the aspirations of the
Germanic race.
This influence went beyond the bounds of Germany : by

360 ETHNOLOGICAL CHAUVINISM

sympathy in England, the Freemans, and those who felt
with him, thumped the Saxon drum ; while, by contrast, in
France, the Fustel de Coulanges played variations in softer
strains on the theme of the Cite Antique. In course of time
and of events Russia, in the growing vigour of her racial and
national expansion, formulated and developed her Pan-
Slavistic theory and war-cry.

The distinctive feature in this modern version of the old
story of national lust of power is, that it now assumed a
more serious and stately garb of historical justice in the
pedantic pretensions of its inaccurate ethnological theories.
The absurdity of any application of such ethnological theories
to the practical politics of modern nations at once becomes
manifest when an attempt is made to classify the inhabitants
of any one of these Western nations by means of such racial
distinctions. What becomes of the racial unity of the pre-
sent German Empire if we consider the Slavs of Prussia,
the Wends in the North, and the tangle of different racial
occupations and interminglings during the last thousand
years within every portion of the German country ? And
the same applies to France and England, Italy and Spain.

But the German professor, with his political brief wrapped
round the lecture-notes within the oilcloth portfolio, pressed
between his broadcloth sleeve and ribs, as he walks to his
lecture-room, was forced further afield and deeper down in
his " scientific " distinctions. The divisions he established
for the purposes of national policy were but minor subdivi-
sions of broader ethnological distinctions. Here the philolo-
gist took the lead and established " beyond all doubt " the
difference, nay, the antagonism, between the Arian and the
Semitic, which makes the Hindoo more closely related to
the German and Saxon than these are to Spinoza, Mendels-
sohn and Heine, Carl Marx and Disraeli. We can perhaps
now appreciate the singular oversight of the last-named
statesman in not having made use of the scientific establish-
ment of this fact in order to strengthen his imperialist views
of the Indian Empire as an integral part of Great Britain.

This last-named classification could further be turned to
practical advantage by those in Germany whose interest it
would be to set one part of the German people against an-
other section, and to create a new party or to strengthen
the hands of the decrepit old ones. And thus there grew
up the anti-Semitic parties in Germany and elsewhere, who
could give strength and some semblance of sober dignity to
their party passions or violent economic theories by so re-
spectable a scientific justification as a racial distinction fixed

PASSAGES ON CHAUVINISM 361

thousands of years ago. This step once made, however, has
necessarily led further afield into wider and unsafer regions,
the exploration and exploitation of which may ultimately
lead to most disastrous results. For, when once the dis-
tinction between Arian and Semite led to the anti-Semitic
movement, religious prejudices, or, at all events, religious
distinctions, are necessarily carried in the wake and tend to
serious complications. Were it not for the clamorous in-
terests of recent politics in the East and West, as well as in
Africa and the Far East, which absorb the attention and the
passions of the nations of Europe, I venture to believe that
the current Ethnological Chauvinism would have drifted
more and more into the channels of religious Chauvinism.
And we need but recall the history of the seventeenth and
early eighteenth century in Europe to realise the effect of
religious and sectarian elements when mixed up with inter-
national partisanship !

There were striking indications within the last few years
that the ethnological game was played out. In Russia the
Pan-Slavistic cry was growing feebler and feebler and was
gradually merging into something like a Pan-Orthodox
movement, which carried very practical, if not material, plans
and purposes within the religious breast of its spiritual de-
votion. Feeble echoes of Pan -Anglicanism made themselves
heard ; while the Roman Catholic Church followed its old
tradition, and the national and Germanic ardour of Berlin,
if not of the whole of Germany, was diverted from the monster
statues on the hills of the Rhine and the Teuteburger forest
to the national Protestant churches in the German capitals.
Arminius was after all a Pagan ! And if this new old cry
is silenced for a time beneath the din of Gatling guns, the
axes of the coloniser, and the hammer of the colonial pro-
spector, it is not silenced for good and all, and will shortly
be raised again.

The result of all this is, that old antagonisms have been
intensified by the introduction of these ethnological dis-
tinctions, and that new ones, non-existent before, have been
created to swell their nefarious phalanx. No doubt other
passions have been added to them, the greed of gold and
the lust of Empire.

The result is that, with all our printing-press and the
rapid exchange of thought through its channels, with our
railways and telegraphs, which are supposed to bring us
together and to thwart invidious distance standing between
human hearts and brains, there has never been a period in
the world's history when, in spite of triple and dual alliances,

362 NATIONAL ANTAGONISMS

every nation feels more opposed to the other, its hand ready
to strike. Ask a typical Frenchman whom he loves and
feels at one with ? The Russian ? One would like to answer
him in his own vernacular : Qu'allez vous me chanter Id !
And whom does the German feel a brother or a cousin to ?
Surely not the Englishman ! Let every one go through the
list for himself and appeal to his past experience. The con-
ception of Humanity as a really potent thought, with meaning
and significance, calling forth definite feelings if not images,
a conception which pervaded the thought and feeling which
were supreme in the second half of the eighteenth century
and moved whole nations to action, these are disused and
unheard in our day, or are pityingly and incredulously smiled
away as cant.

If we cannot resuscitate and infuse the spirit of life into
the corpse of Humanity, we can at least prick the ethnological
bubble and recall the sane nations to the reality of their
inner history and the truly effective elements in the actual
national and social life of our times.

Patriotism is the love we bear to our country and its
people, represented by its government ; the love of order
and law ; and the submission of the interests and the life
of the individual to the State and its government, because
they stand for order and law. The modern State is a pro-
duct of modern history, and we need not go to the nebulous
regions of prehistoric ages to seek for its rationale and the
order and law which are its essence. If you wish to go back
to the ethnological foundations, you must ignore and wipe
out the history of centuries in Germany, France, Italy,
England, and the United States. You must ignore the
language and literature and the thought and feeling they
embody and convey, the form of government evolved, the
freedom and integrity of the citizen that are established, if
you wish to build your commonwealth upon racial distinc-
tions. Arminius did not make the modern German Empire ;
the Anglo-Saxon did not make the England of to-day. But
government, laws, institutions, customs, habits, language,
thought — these are clearly defined in each State. Every
day of our lives these facts are impressed upon us in the
streets of the towns and in the lanes of the country, they
make up our feeling of home, our feeling of belonging to this
country and not to another. These are not evoked by the
stagey picture, all out of drawing, of a Saxon in wolf's-skin
with spear and club, which the ethnological brush of a sign-
painting politician holds before the eyes of the masses.

England is the only country in Europe which has not yet

PASSAGES ON CHAUVINISM 363

been affected to any harmful extent by this disease of Chau-
vinism ; and there is no fear that, in spite of all the provoca-
tion which the attitude of other nations towards us arouses,
we shall respond to them in the same tone. But, to call an
alliance, or the growing amity between Great Britain and
the United States an Anglo-Saxon alliance, and to accept such
a term as embodying the essential bond of union between
these two great nations, would familiarise us with evil ideas,
if it did not create the evil passions. What brings us, and
will hold us, together is something quite different, and far
more potent than the empty words and the unsound theories
with regard to our racial origin.

If the forces we have just considered lead to Chauvinism,
and are not the essential elements which hold people together,
the question must be asked, what these binding elements
really are. Sir John Seeley maintained that " the chief
forces which hold a community together are common nation-
ality, common religion, common interest." I believe that
this epitome errs in being too narrow, and in omitting some
elements which are perhaps the most efficient in binding
people together, while at least one of the three is not essential
to national unity or national amity.

I should prefer to summarise these elements under the
following general headings : A common country ; a common
nationality ; a common language ; common forms of govern-
ment ; common culture, including customs and institutions ;
a common history ; a common religion, in so far as religion
stands for the same basis of morality ; and, finally, common
interests.

Now, I maintain that when any group of people have all
these eight elements in common, they ought of necessity to
form a nation, a political unity, internally and towards the
outside world ; and when a group of people have not the
first of these factors (the same country), but are essentially
akin in the remaining seven, they ought to develop an inter-
national alliance or some close form of lasting amity. In
the case of the people of Great Britain and of the United
States seven of these leading features that hold a community
together are actively present.

It may even be held that the first condition, a common
country, which would make of the two peoples one nation,
in some sense exists for them. At all events, a country is
sufficiently common to them to supply sentimental unity in
this direction. For, as regards England, Seeley has well
remarked, referring to a period when steam and electricity
had not yet reduced the separating distance of the ocean :

364 ENGLAND AND THE UNITED STATES

" There is this fundamental difference between Spain and
France on the one side and England on the other, that Spain
and France were deeply involved in the struggle of Europe,
from which England has always been able to hold herself
aloof. In fact, as an island, England is distinctly nearer for
practical purposes to the New World, and almost belongs
to it, or, at least, has the choice of belonging at her pleasure
to the New World or to the Old." As for the proximity
between the two countries for persons travelling and goods
interchanged, I can only say that, from continuous experi-
ence, the expenditure of money, nerve-tissue, and comfort
is higher in a trip from England to Greece or any of the
Balkan States, than in a voyage to New York ; while it
is a significant fact that the transport of goods from an
American to an English port is not only cheaper than from
any point in England to a short distance on the Continent,
but even from one point of England to a comparatively near
point on the same island. But if we turn from this question
of mere physical propinquity to the feeling of the American
people as regards the country, the actual soil of the British
Islands, we come to a sentiment far deeper and more cogent
in its binding power. It would be a very small minority of
the American people who would not be overcome by a sense
of home the moment they arrive on British soil, be it at
Cork or Liverpool ; and, after a short halt at Chester, during
which they have walked through the streets of that pictur-
esque city, they settle down in London and set foot in West-
minster Abbey, passing by the monuments of patriots,
statesmen, and poets whom they can rightly all claim as
essentially their own ! To all these people Great Britain
is the " Old Country." But I will go further, and venture
to say that this does not apply to the Americans of dis-
tinctly British origin, but also to those of German and
French and Dutch descent, or from any of the other Euro-
pean peoples, whose home has been sufficiently long in the
United States for them to have become thoroughly nationa-
lised through the language with its literature, the customs
and institutions which are practically the same in both
countries. Such a one has read his Shakespeare, Macaulay,
and Walter Scott, from his childhood upwards ; and thus
Westminster Abbey and Stratford-on-Avon, and Kenil-
worth, and Scotland strike an old familiar tone in his mind
and his heart — whether his name be Sampson or Schley or
Shafter.

Leaving the question of a common country, the bond of
union becomes closer the further we proceed with the other

PASSAGES ON CHAUVINISM 365

essential features which make for unity, when once we drop
the misleading and wholly illusory ethnological basis of
nationality, and, instead of flying to the nebulous and un-
known regions of prehistoric ages, we take into account the
process of real history. We then must acknowledge that
the people of Great Britain and of the United States are of
one nationality. I say this in spite of the Revolutionary
War, and, if I did not fear to be too paradoxical, I should
almost say because of it. I mean by this, that the establish-
ment of independence in the British Colonies of North
America marks a phase in the expansion of international
freedom, as the advance of representative government
marks the development of national freedom ; and that, as
the recognition of the separate household of an adult son,
who has been fretting with growing animosity against the
domination of parental authority, reasserts, on a new and
more propitious basis, the kinship of the two, so it is in the
relation of the two nations since America is free.

There is but one real and material fact amongst many to
which I wish to draw attention in view of the claims of
common nationality between these two great peoples, and
that is, the question of kinship and intermarriage. If
statistics could be established concerning the citizens of
each country, as to those who have some member of their
kith and kin, however remote, residing in the country over
the sea, the numbers of these would be found to be astonish-
ingly large — at all events, much larger than such relation-
ship between any other two nations. And in this respect
the importance of the continuous process of intermarriage,
which promises to grow even more frequent and effective in
the future, cannot be overestimated. For, in the making of
nations, intermarriage is the most important factor in weld-
ing the diversity of race into the unity of nationality. In
the history of England, Germany, France, and Italy it was
chiefly this custom which enabled the numerous and dis-
cordant ethnological elements to fuse into national unity.
Where larger masses of the population, as with the Hun-
garians and the Austrians, or smaller sections within a
nationality, are kept from intermarriage, from whatever
cause, the unity of the nation or of the smaller community
is not complete, and no amount of government action and
of administrative pressure can supply this want.

As regards the actual intercourse between the two nations,
a great deal can here be done by individuals to improve
and strengthen the relations between us. I would recom-
mend a little more tolerance, intellectual sympathy, and

366 PROVINCIALISM AND TOLERANCE

fairness of judgment to Americans as well as to Englishmen.
We must shift our standards of judgment if we mean to be
fair to those who have not put themselves within the pale of
our own social — often extremely provincial — laws. Such
provincialism argues a want of education in some and a
want of imagination in others. To put it tritely and epigram-
matically : Let us charitably remember that there is still
some salvation for the man who wears a frock-coat and a
round hat — if he be a foreigner ! We may be ever so sure
that our own rules of life and habits and fashions are the
best, but we cannot judge those by them who have never
recognised their sway. Also it is well for us to remember
that, whatever we may justly feel with regard to our national
greatness, the individual citizen — even the least distinguished
— is not necessarily responsible for the superiority of his
nation and country.

I would recommend every Englishman to read Lowell's
essay, "On a Certain Condescension in Foreigners." He
there strongly impresses the fact that a first-rate American
must not be confounded with a second-rate Englishman.
And I should like to add : that a second-rate Englishman
will never make a first-rate American. The difficulty will
remain, how to recognise " the first-rate American or Eng-
lishman ? " Well, there is no wholesale tag attached to
them. They are not known through the paragraphs in the
newspapers, nor are they always recognised by their own
estimate of themselves. We can only meet each other
courteously and generously, and find out for ourselves. It
takes some time and acuteness of perception to realise that
there is a native dignity and quiet modesty in the American,
though he may successfully hide it under the boisterous
ebullience of his vigorous life and manner ; while I hold
that there is a native fund of amiability and genuine cordial-
ity deep down in the Englishman's nature — only it is often
so deep down that it never appears on the surface. It is
effectively checked by a narrow, " provincial " education,
continued and fixed by stupid social traditions slavishly
accepted and followed by all classes.

The unity of nationality is expressed in the State, in the
laws and the forms of government, which actually hold the
people together. Now, though England is a monarchy and
the United States a republic, the fact remains that the
inhabitants of both countries feel that they belong to the
freest nations of the world. This freedom is the outcome of
representative government, an idea and a fact born in Eng-
land, to the development of which the history of the British

PASSAGES ON CHAUVINISM 367

people is one continuous illustration. It does not diminish
the glory of the framers of the American constitution to say,
that the central idea of liberty and self-government, which
that document embodies and develops, was the natural
evolution of political principles sunk deep down in their
hearts and minds by their English ancestors. And the reality
of a common foundation for the government and all political
institutions in the case of the United States and of Great
Britain impresses itself upon us, not only when we ponder
or generalise on things political, but when we are living
our ordinary daily lives and follow the natural interests and
calls of our several avocations. It is not merely a question
of political theory and speculation, it is eminently one of
practical experience, and of the action of life, individual as
well as collective. At every step, while the Englishman or
American travels abroad, even in the most civilised countries,
he meets with administrative enactments, privileges, re-
strictions, injunctions, and directions, sent from the summits
of government into the busy plains of ordinary daily life,
which are foreign to him, and which evoke a sense of criticism,
if not of irritation and revolt. The same feeling of strange-
ness and of foreignness constantly comes over him if he
attempts to follow their political life, though the American
considers the legislative and administrative proceedings of
a European republic, and the Englishman observes the laws
and enactments of some other constitutional monarchy. On
the other hand, every Englishman becomes readily familiar
with the political system of the United States, and feels at
home under its rule, as the American lives happily under
the laws of Great Britain and can at once follow with interest
the legislative work of the House of Commons.

Far more potent, however, than the ties of common des-
cent, country, and government, is the all-compromising bond
of a common language. Nay, so much do I consider this
the chief force of union and amity, that I would substitute
for Anglo-Saxon, or even Anglo-American, the title English-
speaking Brotherhood. For this conception is at once so
wide that it comprises, not only Great Britain and Ireland
and the United States, but every distant colony where
English is spoken, and the same thoughts and feelings, laws
and institutions are therefore bound to prevail.

From Appendix to The Jewish Question, 2nd edition 1899,
P- 343 :

Many of us are deeply saddened to find the reactionary
turn our age is taking in every sphere of public life. The

25

368 ENGLAND AND GERMANY

arch-fiend of our age is Chauvinism. All European nations
seem to hate each other. But to find hatred among the
constituent parts, groups, races, religions, within each
country, nurtured and fostered by men of superior power
and fundamentally good intentions is indeed disheartening.

ENGLAND AND GERMANY
To the Editor of " The Times "

Sir, — I agree with much your correspondent " English-
man " has so forcibly said in The Times of this morning.
But I think that the advice he gives would apply chiefly to
the quotation of German opinion in so many irresponsible
German newspapers and publications, whose very object
is gained by the notice which English comment has given
to their existence, an existence otherwise ignored even in
Germany.

I cannot believe that the dissemination and acceptance of
all the distorted reports and cruel libels are in any way
a national characteristic of the Germans. They are due
rather to the absence of certain traditions firmly established
for ages among the English and American people which do
not exist to the same degree elsewhere. I mean those tradi-
tions ingrained in the innermost character of our people, all
of which find their expression in the one phrase : fair play.
The habit, nay, the cult, of this national virtue has in Eng-
land led to the traditions of journalistic morality to which —
and this your bitterest enemy will have to admit — The Times
has so effectively contributed, if it has not created them.
If the Germans at all possessed such journalistic traditions,
the present state of public opinion there and much of the
injustice and brutality to which we have been subjected
could never have existed. It is indeed hard for all lovers
of truth and justice to be forced to realise that slander and
injustice, which we have always thought only can exist and
thrive when shunning the light of day, should still reign
supreme when the elaborate system of publicity in modern
journalism is spread over the whole civilised world, and
penetrates every district and corner of civilised States.

Nothing could be worse, nothing further removed from
the methods you, sir, follow in journalism, than the custom
of German newspapers — even the most respectable among
them. Allow me to give one striking, yet typical, instance :

During the Turko-Greek War of 1897, I held views as to
the claims of the Greeks differing essentially from those

PASSAGES ON CHAUVINISM 369

manifested by our Government and supported by The Times.
The letters which I then wrote urging more vigorous action
in support of the Greeks on the part of this Government
were printed by you in spite of your disapproval of my views.

In 1898, my attention was drawn to a series of letters
written by representative men of all classes and opinions
in Germany, in a weekly paper of highest standing, called
Die Gegenwart. They all dealt with the Greek War, and all
misrepresented the attitude which England took at the
time. The climax was reached when the distinguished
philosopher Eduard von Hartmann charged England with
being the instigator and prime mover (of course, entirely to
promote its own selfish interests) of both the Greek and the
Armenian agitations. England was made responsible for the
Armenian massacres and the Turko-Greek War. This paper
was sent to me by a high-minded as well as a prominent
personage in Germany, reminding me that I was in a posi-
tion to deny these allegations. It did not require much
urging on the part of my friend ; for I felt that fair play
demanded in this case, that, having vainly endeavoured to
bring the Government to take the part of Greece, and having
failed, it was not right for me to sit still and hear England
charged with actions which I had such good reason to know
we never committed. I wrote the reply to Herr von Hart-
mann in German and sent it to the paper, giving absolute
proof of the unfoundedness of his assertions. My letter
was rejected. I then sent it to my German friend, advising
that it should be published in some other paper. Even my
friend, and my friend's friends, failed in gaining publication
for the simple statement of truth in any paper they approached.

How can we expect truth to prevail when the mouthpiece
of public opinion is thus gagged ? How can the German
people possess such a Press, which is, after all, representative
of the people, and tolerate the existence of traditions which
block the way to the spread of light and truth ? The answer
is that, whatever great virtues the German people possess,
intellectual and moral, and however much we can learn from
them, the sphere of fair play is one in which they can learn
from us ; for they are comparatively wanting in the very
rudiments of this virtue.

Permit me to touch upon one other topic intimately con-
nected with this and concerning which much attention has
been aroused through Mr. Kipling's " Islanders." I main-
tain emphatically that the chief agent in producing, sustaining,
and spreading this national virtue in England and America
is athleticism in the best sense of the term. Cricket and

370 THE RIGHT ATHLETICS

football, rowing, hunting, etc., have trained the people of
this country from childhood upwards, from the yokel to the
greatest in the land, in the laws and the spirit of fair play
until they have entered in succum et sanguinem of the whole
people, and have become a general national characteristic
as the interest in our games and sports is a public and national
feature. If its importance is exaggerated in schools and
moral and intellectual pursuits are neglected, while the
validity of their standards of value is depreciated among
boys, this is no doubt bad and ought to be put right. But,
however much Mr. Kipling may be justified in advocating
serious education in the art of war, and in combating play-
fulness out of place and general amateurishness, he is, if I
may translate a German phrase, " pouring the child out
with the bath water " when he attacks athleticism.

May I finally add one definite instance which has come to
my notice ? One of my friends, a distinguished scholar and
public servant, joined the yeomanry as a private at the
beginning of the war, and was soon made sergeant. He
returned home in due course last spring and decided that it
was right for him to go back to Africa, which he did, receiv-
ing three wounds in a recent engagement. Before leaving
he was offered a commission, which he ultimately accepted.
But he had grave misgivings whether he ought to accept
a commission, because he was not sure that he would make
an efficient officer, however sure he was of himself as a
private or non-commissioned officer. " You see," he said,
" if I had been a hunting man I should not hesitate ; for the
experience in the hunting-field produces the qualities which
I consider most important in an officer of any grade in such
a country as South Africa."

I am, sir,

Your obedient servant,

Charles Waldstein.

King's College, Cambridge.
January 15, 1900.

P.S. — I feel bound to add that, not long ago, I ventured
as a foreigner to protest against the unfair charges brought
against the archaeological authorities of a German museum
in the Frankfurter Zeitung, and that my protest was duly
published in that paper.— -C. W.

From The Jewish Question, 1st ed. 1892, pp. 21-27 :

The prominence which has been given to the question of
race in connection with the opposition to the Jews is com-

PASSAGES ON CHAUVINISM 371

paratively of recent date. It is the outcome of a movement
which, I believe, had its origin in Germany, called forth by
the definite political needs of that country, but which has
had far-reaching and enduring effects (I believe for the bad),
even after the immediate aim which evoked it had been
fulfilled. As a reaction against the policy of Metternich,
which consisted in neutralising the restless and revolutionary
forces of the Austrian Empire by opposing different nationa-
lities to one another, which would thus keep each other in
check, the national unity of Germany was attained by means
of the idea of the national State, in which State was the ex-
pression of the unity of the people, and this unity was to be
found in a common origin, a common race. This idea of a
common origin naturally lent itself to kindle the enthusiasm
of a people whose political weakness lay in the division
among many petty States and principalities. And thus, in
connection with the romantic spirit which reigned supreme
fifty years ago, yet with the correct political instinct at the
bottom of the artificial and theatrical pose of the patriots of
those days, the pure German racial unity, as opposed to
Romance and other enemies without, was used as the lever
which was to move all the separate blocks (smoothly polished
and floridly decorated marbles of prince-ridden principalities,
and clumsy, unhewn stones and rubble-stones of independent
cities and towns) to construct one huge edifice of the German
Empire. The two men who in modern times used this
power most effectually were Bismarck and Cavour.

It appears to me a blot upon modern German academic
science, to which the world owes so much, that, within the
faculty of history and political science, many academic leaders
have more or less consciously bent their science to the service
of current political views. Through Germany and German
historical science, France, by reaction (maintaining the
claims of Romance nations), and by sympathy some his-
torians in England, have followed in this general retrograde
movement towards the intensifying and stereotyping of the
national unit. The chief difficulty has arisen, and most
mischief has been done, by the confusion of the terms " race "
and "nation." The word which the German publicists have
made, Nazional-Staat, must not be confused, as has been and
is so readily done, with Rassenstaat. The Nazional-Staat is
one which, we might say, has an historical unity, while the
Rassenstaat has an ethnological unity. Germany is at present
a Nazional-Staat. The Austrian and Turkish Empires are
not such States ; for the distinct and even opposed units
of peoples in these empires have remained distinct without

372 NATIONAL AND RACIAL UNITY

a common language, and they remain conscious of the separate-
ness of their nationalities. But national unity in this sense
is not at all identical with racial unity. The actual condition
of the German people in our time, and its history for the
last centuries, distinctly confirm its claims to be a nation, or
one people. History, language, and literature distinctly
show it to be such. To confirm this we need not go for sup-
port to the science of ethnology, which is much more likely,
I may venture to say, sure, to counteract the impression of
such a unity ; and, at all events, if you attempt to follow
the attractions of this science, you may be led into many
quagmires.

Ethnology is a most interesting scientific pursuit, but as
such it is still in its infancy ; and whatever claims to universal
recognition its generalisations and hypotheses may have, it
is quite premature and misleading as yet to bring them into
anything like practical application. But such unwarrantable
application has been and is being made every day with an
idea or a desire of invoking the aid of venerable science to
objects that are far from being venerable in their character,
namely, when it suits a definite political party, or even
private interests and purposes. It is then that, uncon-
sciously, or unperceived by those who are to be influenced,
the idea of nation is merged into the idea of race. Then
history is ignored in favour of a counterfeit ethnology ; then
it is no more the Germany welded together by common
suffering, civilisation, literature, and science since the Middle
Ages, the Germany of Lessing, of Goethe and Schiller, of
Fichte, of Heine ; but a Germany of pure Germanenthum,
purely Teutonic, or, at all events, Aryan. But the serious
students of ethnology and comparative philology themselves
are becoming more and more cautious of the distinctions
and classifications that have hitherto been current, and
they all feel that within the next few years there may be
forthcoming fundamentally different hypotheses, even with
regard to the broadest distinctions of human races. At all
events, it is absurd to apply the results of this science to the
practical consideration of nations as they are now before
us. I certainly venture to state that there is not one country
in the West of Europe which can claim purity of race in the
present day, or in any period of the Middle Ages. Who
will tell what tribes the people now dwelling in Germany
are made up of, since the barbarous hordes (Huns, Goths,
and Tartars) swept through their country, settled here and
there, to be followed in later centuries by invading armies
practising warfare in the spirit of their time ?

PASSAGES ON CHAUVINISM 373

Travel through the German Empire from north to south
and east to west, mingle with the crowds in the streets of
the towns and study the people in the country, and I ven-
ture to say that if you could for a moment do away with
the similarity of dress and fashion, and the manner of wear-
ing beards, and accidental habits of the present day which
may come from the school or the army, and if you could
ignore the fact that they all speak one modern German
tongue, the idea of race and unity among them would for
ever be destroyed in your mind. Nay, even as it is, the
lounger in the streets of Berlin may differ as much from the
Tyrolese mountaineers as he does from the cockney of London,
and their speech may be almost as unintelligible to one an-
other. Still, there is an actual unity among the people of
Germany ; but this unity is the modern summary of living
conditions to which, in dying, the past ages have given their
life, and has nothing to do with the Teutons, or the Hermon-
duri, or the Catts, or the Franks. The same applies to Eng-
land, with its Picts and Scots and Celts and Saxons and
Danes and Normans, and the immigration and assimilation
of French, Dutch, German, Spanish, and Jewish elements.
And so it is with France, and with Italy, and with Spain,
and all Western European nations.

From the Preface to The Jewish Question and the Mission
of tlte Jews, 2nd edit., p. xxiv :

One great service which Dreyfus has rendered to the
world, besides standing as the symbol of justice, is that he
has given the death-blow to anti-Semitism — not, I mean,
through the pity and admiration which is felt for him as a
Jew, but, above all, because through the Dreyfus affair the
anti-Semitic mask has been torn away from the French
Nationalists, and has shown the hideous face of the arch-
fiend Chauvinism, with all its menace to modern civilisation
and progress. This nefarious power has an outward and an
inward direction. In its outer aspects it becomes a diseased
and caricatured " patriotism," which manifests itself chiefly
in a blind hatred towards all foreigners. In its inward
direction, Nationalism becomes a convenient term for all
groups of people within a nation with common interests,
which they push against the existing order of things, treating
those opposed to them as aliens or foreigners. This is an
epidemic form of disease raging all over the world during the
second half of this century, which in our time is attaining an
acute form. Let us all take warning, and learn a lesson

374 BRITISH POWER OF ASSIMILATION

from what has happened in other countries. The strength
of the British nation has to no small extent lain in the fact
that, in all its history, it has freely and generously assimi-
lated the different groups of people as well as individuals,
from whatever country, race, or religion they came ; and it
has assimilated these nationally, politically, and socially.
There have been no fixed barriers to block the way to com-
plete nationalisation ; the English people have ever been
ready to receive and to recognise the good that has come to
them from abroad. They seem to have said : "If you have
merit, prove it, and we will recognise it." Out of this fact
and its results, as well as out of the consciousness of this
principle as a moral force, flows much of the vitality, the
power of growth and development, of sane progress, in the
British people. May we never forget this, and may we
realise the weakness and the danger which lie in the opposite
course, that of Nationalistic Chauvinism. May the people
of the United States as well take warning and beware of
this most dangerous element. You never know where it
will lead you, certainly away from internal unity, peace,
and good-will among citizens, away from charity and the
love of one's fellow-men !

Appendix II
PASSAGES ON COSMOPOLITANISM

From The Jewish Question, p. 90 :

I am also in sympathy with George Eliot when she says
that the time is not come for cosmopolitanism to be highly
virtuous, but I do look upon a certain form of cosmopoli-
tanism as a practical ideal which it is well for us to hold
before us. And I venture to believe that this great novelist
and philosopher would have agreed with me. I know that
many thoughtful people are repelled by the idea of cosmo-
politanism because of their love of " individuality." They
consider the free and varied expression of the inner and outer
capabilities of single men and of larger bodies of men to be
one of the most desirable conditions of life. With this I
also agree. But I do not consider cosmopolitanism, as I
conceive it, as in any way destructive of individuality ; on
the contrary, I think it will further it. The analogy, which
I do not wish to pursue further, at once suggests itself between
cosmopolitanism and restricted nationalism on the one
hand, and free-trade and protection in economical life on the
other. Cosmopolitanism will, I trust, encourage rather than
repress the desirable expression of individuality both for
States and for individuals. Federation of States (by which
I emphatically do not mean centralisation of life, interest,
and of intellectual leadership within one metropolis) gives
perhaps a greater chance for the free expression of individual
characteristics within the proper channels of activity. The
natural conditions, the local differences, will of themselves
work in this direction ; and we can see how they are acting
in the United States of America, where, I should say, there
is, in many respects, a growth rather than a decrease of indi-
vidualisation in the various districts. It is true we do notice
the dying away of local peculiarities, costume, habits of
living and of uncleanliness in the remoter districts of Europe ;
but this is not due to the action of the cosmopolitan spirit,

375

376 JUSTIFIED NATIONALISM

but to rapid communication, the spread of education, and
other influences. And in estimating these changes we must
carefully guard against attaching too much weight to our
own selfish artistic interest and craving for the picturesque,
in which, under the veil of philanthropy, we may be looking
upon our fellow-men as puppets that are dancing for our
edification upon a miniature stage of our own making.
Frenchmen, Englishmen, Italians, Germans, and Americans
are pronounced in their individuality, and will remain so for
ages to come, in spite of the growth of the cosmopolitan
spirit ; and we need not be much afraid of its extinction.
But what cosmopolitanism must set itself to counteract is
not the positive expression of individuality, but its negative
attitude. We hope that national traditions will remain in
their inspiring force, but that national antagonisms and
jealousies will grow less intense and perhaps cease ; that, as
they go, more active steps for friendly intercommunication
will be made ; that commercial and industrial life will be
ordered and regulated and elevated out of the chaotic state
of futile internecine waste and destruction. We hope that
civilised peoples will really live up to the feelings, which in
all other respects they have, of the common ties of civilisa-
tion, and in so far of a common history. This will be the basis
of the feeling for cosmopolitanism which we hold as a prac-
tical ideal, and from being a feeling it will lead to definite
and direct beneficent action.

The essence of cosmopolitanism is the widening of human
sympathies ; and it is as false to think that it will lead to
the weakening of proper national feeling, as it is an error
to believe that the widening of our sympathies makes them
less intense when at any time they are directed into narrower
channels, and weakens our power of affection. If charity
begins at home, it might with equal truth be maintained that
charity begins away from home ; that in a measure as it is
really removed from self does it become charity in the
truest sense. The physical analogy which people uncon-
sciously have in their minds when they misunderstand the
nature of sympathy is drawn from the world of solid or
fluid bodies. The more you extend these, the wider you
spread them, the less will they have in depth. And so it is
supposed that the wider the area over which you extend
your sympathies, the less will be their depth at any given
point. But this analogy is misleading. Sympathy is force,
and not matter ; it is a high function of a highly organised
body ; the more you exercise this function, the more you
increase your heart's vitality in different directions, the

PASSAGES ON COSMOPOLITANISM 377

greater will be the force when concentrated into one effort.
The narrowing and cramping of sympathies leads to atrophy
of the affections ; give them play, and they will retain their
health and vitality. I would appeal to the actual observa-
tion and experience of the reader with regard to the life
that he knows intimately and can see about him. I venture
to hold that the cases in which he finds people whose sym-
pathies and affections are bounded by their own families,
with a negative attitude towards people beyond these bounds,
are not as considerate and sympathetic to the members of
their own family as those whose sympathies know no such
narrow restrictions. For love, unless guided by sympathy,
is closely akin to selfishness. And the further you proceed
in the scale the more will you realise this. Wherever there
is a marked negative boundary to the affections, be it by
the clan, or the township, or the county, or the country,
these affections are not proof against trials, they are not so
thoroughly permeated by right altruistic thought as where
unselfishness has been raised into a positive faculty by being
removed habitually away from the centre of self, the further
away the stronger. The man who only loves himself does
not love himself well. He has not practised putting himself
into other people's places, and he will therefore be unjust to
himself, and dissatisfied when his immediate desires are
thwarted.

On this account I maintain that cosmopolitanism, which
means an effective widening of national sympathies, will in
no way diminish our power of national affection.

Appendix III

THE WORLD'S CHANGES IN THE PAST FIFTY
YEARS

The following article, written for The New York Times (1910)
by Professor Charles Waldstein, of King's College, Cambridge
University, England, is contributed in reply to a question
put to him by this paper. He was asked to give a short
review of the great change in the world that has taken place
within the last fifty years.

By Professor Charles Waldstein

I find it a Herculean task to answer the great question you
have put in your letter to me, and I have hesitated whether
it is right to issue any answer for publication at all. It is
impossible to elaborate fully in so short a space any of the
momentous questions that at once present themselves. But
a few suggestions to thought which I may be able to throw
out, and, still more, the doubts which such thoughts may
evoke as regards the acceptance of a complacent conviction
that our age is superior to any other, may be timely and
useful.

No doubt the world has changed within the last fifty
years, as it has often changed within similar periods of time.
The stupendous improvements in means of transportation,
in the facilities of wealth-production by the aid of stirring
scientific discovery, are a just cause for congratulation. Life
has undoubtedly been made easier to live for millions of
people deprived of fair opportunities of living before ; the
means of actual living, and the security of life, for all but
the privileged classes, have immeasurably increased com-
pared with former ages — especially the Middle Ages, which
false historians and insincere poets so often attempt to
endow with a halo of beauty and sanctity.

Yet there remains the great question : What is this life
to be after we are enabled to live it ? Are the means of

378

WORLD'S CHANGES FOR FIFTY YEARS 379

living to be the end of life ? Is the production of steel and
of coal, of food supplies, and of materials for clothing and
housing, to be the end in itself to which all effort and all
education are ultimately to tend ? In one word, are the
ideals of life better, higher, more worthy of realisation now
than they were fifty years ago ?

Well, sir, I believe that the achievements of the last fifty
years have been stupendous in preparing the opportunities
of living for the vast masses of civilised peoples ; but I think
that the ideals of living are lower than they were fifty years
ago in every one of the civilised countries. And though it
is foolhardy, if not arrogant, to anticipate the verdict of his-
tory and to predict the trend which human affairs are taking,
I venture to believe that our own age is chiefly noteworthy
in that great problems are being powerfully brought before
the consciousness of the world, but not for any solution of
great problems.

Let me merely enumerate epigrammatically a few of these
problems. First, the most manifest and most obtrusive —
though perhaps not the most important of them — the rela-
tion between capital and labour, the responsibility of the
power of accumulated wealth (exceeding in some individuals
any power which an autocrat, who could be dethroned, ever
had), without corresponding responsibilities, as well as the
responsibilities of organised labour. The general question
of the opposing claim of Socialism and Collectivism on the
one hand, and, equally important for the progress of humanity,
the claims of individual liberty and the development of per-
sonality, the intense bond of love, which members of a family
feel for one another, which parents have for their children,
and, in anticipation, for their progeny — forces which have
ever and will ever work for the good in man's history — all
these are claims which will have to be reconciled by man's
reason and justice in the future.

Then comes the great question of religion which can never
be replaced either by science or by ethics, or by art, and
which means the formulation of man's ideals of life and
thought raised to the spiritual spheres above the actual life
with which he contends. These high spiritual ends and
feelings and aspirations are not formulated in a manner to
satisfy the best that modern man can think, and for this
expression will have to be found in the future. The great
problem of the position of woman in modern society will
have to be solved. She has more and more emancipated
herself in her legal and social position. The future will have
to solve the problem of her political position.

380 DECLINE OF IDEALS. THE GERMAN DANGER

Forgive me if I venture to deal in outline with the problems
which you suggest, by hemispheres, beginning with America :

In spite of all material progress made in the United States
during the last fifty years, it appears to me that the collec-
tive ideal of the American people (notwithstanding the
splendid efforts of giving a new direction to it made by
leaders like Ex-President Roosevelt) is lower than it was in
the middle of the nineteenth century, or at the birth of the
American Republic at the end of the eighteenth.

The American Republic was the positive expression of
what the French Revolution cried for in articulate terms of
passionate suffering : the denial of privilege by birth, the
assertion of the equal rights of man to the opportunities of
living, and the development of individual superiority in
character or in mind. These ideals were reconfirmed on a
broader basis in the Civil War.

The thought in speech and in literature of the New Eng-
land leaders which led to the abolition of slavery was the
terribly real expression of the principle of the brotherhood
of man. This thought was the outcome of high-minded living,
of a tone of moral and intellectual superiority which per-
meated every community in the United States, and set up
the standards of taste and of social value for the whole of
the Union ; that life in tone and manners and in aspiration
is " played out," and with it the occupations which favoured
such attitudes of mind.

The ideal of power which makes of men the leaders in a
community and strikes the keynote of the social tone is to
be found in those occupations which, dealing chiefly with
the manipulation of large sums of corporate money, lead to
the rapid accumulation of vast hoards of wealth. There is
a growing and conscious desire for the evolution of a national
character out of which all the ideals of wider human brother-
hood are eliminated.

In Europe the last fifty years have collectively seen the
artificial growth of the national feeling as opposed to any
ideals of wider human progress which moved the people at
the end of the eighteenth century and stirred them again in
1848. Even as regards each nation, wider ideals are elimin-
ated, and, with conscious cynicism, Real-Politik is preached
from the housetops, which means that each nation has only
to see to the increase of its material power and the accumula-
tion of national wealth, and leave ideals to the sentimen-
talist.

Irrespective of any affinity in political aspirations or in
culture, Europe is fast approaching the division into two

WORLD'S CHANGES FOR FIFTY YEARS 381

hostile camps, which, it appears to be the hope of those who
rule the destinies of nations, will soon lead to a bloody con-
flict. There will be the military spine of Europe, Germany,
Austria, and Turkey, all powerful in directing the movement
of the body, as the vertebral column is in animal and man,
reaching from the Baltic and the North Sea to the Mediter-
ranean, supported by increased naval strength on either
side, which may stop all liberal advance of the rest of Europe,
whatever combination these may make.

In the Far East there seems some distant hope that the
supreme patriotic vitality, and the public spirit of abnega-
tion, which marks the people in Japan, shall adopt and
assimilate what we must call the Hellenic spirit, and realise
that love of family and patriotism must be directed toward
the production of the highest type of man and human society,
in which moral, intellectual, and artistic qualities and powers
are freely and fully developed in the individual and in the
community. Should Japan infuse such a spirit into China,
the yellow peril may be converted into the yellow blessing
for the advance of humanity.

The only countries which manifest in their political life
the consciousness that ideas and ideals are practical, and
can be made practical, are, at the present moment, the
Republic of France, and, in so far as the people is enabled to
express itself, the population of Russia.

For the rest, it appears to me that one of the great waves
— for human history moves by waves — in which the world's
destiny is carried on within the last fifty years is in a down-
ward direction, and marks a period of reaction, the end of
which I devoutly hope is near. I would not have it believed
that I am a pessimist. On the contrary, my optimism is of
the firmest, because I believe in the ultimate victory of the
good and the true. This victory will come. But from what
I have just said you will realise that I do not believe that
the last fifty years mark the ascent of the great wave.

Appendix IV

THE "TRANSPORTATION" OF CAPITAL

From The Political Confession of a Practical Idealist.
London : Smith, Elder & Co. 191 1, pp. 32 seq.

I have said before that I am not a socialist. As a remote

and ultimate ideal, I do believe that if the three great sources

which lead to crime and all misery in social life — money,

sexual passion, and drink — could be removed, the world

would be much better. But I also believe that a direct

attempt at immediate or proximate realisation of such an

ideal is Utopian and quite undesirable. Still, I maintain

that, in its present form, the position which money holds in

our life as the equivalent and the gauge of successful effort,

the common standard of power leading to esteem, the seal

of approval stamped upon achievement by society at large,

is a complete failure, and leads to most of the evils of our

time. It does not further the best needs of our age, as in

previous ages of man's history other standards corresponded

to what the instinct of society as a whole recognised to be

the quality most needed for the public welfare. Such were

physical prowess in the early periods of man's development,

when the protection from beasts and savage rivals was the

immediate and prevailing object of man's existence ; courage

and skill-at-arms, together with the power of ruling from his

castle the feudal subjects whom he in turn protected — and

all qualities that went to make up chivalry in the Middle

Ages. I can fully conceive of a state of society in which the

acquisition of money as the central motive to human effort

would no longer exist, and there would still remain every

potent incentive to lead man to his best efforts. He would

still be incited from other motives to perform the duties

imposed upon him, and he would be powerfully stimulated

to win the esteem and admiration of his fellow-men. Should

wealth ever be dethroned from its dominant position I am

convinced that a large section of the evils which mar the

harmonious and elevating development of life in human

society would be removed.

All the same, I believe that any direct attempt to alter

382

THE "TRANSPORTATION" OF CAPITAL 383

the economic foundations of life by any form of collectiv-
ism, which levels down instead of levelling up the scale of
individual effort, which postulates human equality and
endeavours to ensure it by checking the progress of the
individual and by undermining the continuity of the family,
is in no way desirable, even if it be practicable.

I am thus not a socialist. There are good, financial houses
with honest traditions in carrying on their complicated busi-
ness. There are honest financiers with a high sense of duty
and refinement of taste, who have amassed wealth in living
up to these good traditions of their business houses, and
have by their business activity furthered the cause of com-
mercial development. There are even those who have
amassed great wealth in finance by methods not so com-
mendable, and who have endeavoured to the best of their
ability to use part of their wealth for the public good. In
spite of these facts, I distinctly am opposed to that aspect
of modern economics which leads to what is called " finance "
and " promoting," to that source of wealth which comes
from the manipulation of other people's money, and which
in our days has become beyond all doubt the chief avenue
to the speedy acquisition of great and inordinate wealth. I
maintain that every legitimate effort may be used, and must
be used to remove this incubus, this curse of modern life
which retards the best development among civilised com-
munities in every direction. Furthermore, it will be found
that all this can be attained, not by violent revolution sub-
verting the foundations of modern society, not by anarchistic
means admitted to be illegal ; but, on the contrary, by legal
and equitable procedure on the part of the State, thereby
upholding its constitution. Finally, should it be found that,
by this same act on the part of the State, the means for
carrying on government will be provided by a most equit-
able method of taxation, surely every effort ought to be
made to bring about such a consummation.

As a rule, we may admit the just working of the economic
principle of Supply and Demand. On the whole, it acts in
the best interests of society, and furthers the ideal aims of
humanity as regards its future development. The higher a
function in life, the higher ought to be the pay, and the
greater the consequent power of him who possesses such
qualities. On the other hand, the rarer the possession of
such qualities, the smaller the supply, and, in consequence,
the more pressing the demand, the greater their value, and
the higher the price to be paid for them. But when society
becomes aware that certain occupations, receiving the highest

26

384 PRICE AND REAL VALUE

prices and consequently endowing the recipient with the
greatest power physically and morally, are bad for the indi-
vidual and for society at large, it produces what, in one
phrase, is best called " the Survival of the Unfittest." To
be a leader in any occupation recognised as legitimate and
good for society produces a type of which society must
approve in its own interest, the production of which it must
encourage. This leads to the production and the survival
of the fittest. The chiefs of mercantile and industrial enter-
prise in commerce and manufacture require qualities superior
to those of the clerks and underlings, as they are fewer in
number, of smaller supply for the importance of the demand
— the foreman holds the same position as regards the ordinary
artisan. In every profession, again, those who are the
leaders, the officers in the army and the navy, the leading
lawyers, physicians, teachers, represent a greater demand
and a smaller supply. We ought not to begrudge such
leaders their higher rewards, nor withhold from them our
higher esteem. In fact, the actual expression of this higher
esteem, because of the higher value of service, is accorded by
society by means of the higher reward. But when recognised
activity in civilised communities is discovered to produce
a type, and, of itself, to develop qualities injurious to the
character of the individual and demoralising to society at
large, every effort must be used to convert such activities
into less injurious forms, or, if possible, to replace them by
new forms which eliminate the type.

Such is the case in what, to use one term, I would designate
as " finance." I mean all manipulation of the money of
others which brings the manipulator an excessive proportion
of wealth. It produces a type of individual in modern
society, conferring upon him inordinate power and inciden-
tally the prestige and esteem which necessarily go with
power, which is not the best and fittest either from a moral,
a political, or an economical point of view.

Let me at once admit that the function of bringing capital
and labour together, the task — the all-important and most
difficult and complicated task — of bringing capital into those
numerous and often remote quarters where it happens to be
needed in order that the natural resources of the world may
be developed and used for the good of the community should
be encouraged, and that the capital congested in spheres where
it may lie idle, or not be turned to the best use, should be
properly distributed. I also admit that, in order that the
first steps be taken to bring such undeveloped resources within
the range of the fructifying influence of remote capital — a most

THE "TRANSPORTATION" OF CAPITAL 385

complex and difficult task — great insight and special know-
ledge, intense activity with the assumption of great risks, are
demanded, especially during the initial stages, and that these
might not be forthcoming unless exceptional rewards were
given. But I shall venture to suggest, further on, other means
by which these necessary functions of modern economic life
could be supplied. If it should be urged against my proposals
that they are deficient in supplying the element of rapidity
in realising potential natural resources in the system I advo-
cate, I will at once answer that rapidity is a much over-
estimated factor in modern life ; that, at all events, it is
accountable for much of the loss, waste, and demoralising
dishonesty of modern financial and industrial enterprise ;
and that, in any case, the evils which I shall point out both
in individual and in social life outweigh any of the advan-
tages which such rapidity of development can offer. The
sources of wealth are bound in the course of time to appeal
to the economical instincts and necessities of civilised com
munities ; and if a wild district with agricultural possi-
bilities, another with mineral wealth, if the means of trans-
portation in the form of railways and steamships to and from
such newly developed centres — if these are retarded for what
must be a short period in the life of a community, the loss
cannot be so great, and may be less, to the community as a
whole, than the loss entailed by the haste which the cupidity
and unscrupulousness of financial promoters have introduced
into the markets of the world.

I maintain that there is a check to the natural and free
development of life among the civilised people of our day, a
hitch in the working of the economical and social machinery,
which must be removed ; and that such removal is so far
from being subversive of the main principles and traditions
of civilised society that only through it can the present
order be retained. Without being paradoxical, I claim that
this is a conservative and not a revolutionary principle. In
the past the working of the social instincts of communities
ensured that those qualities which are most needed by the
society of the day produced recognised types, within the
community to whom all people looked up as leaders, and
felt the justification of their prominence because they ulti-
mately responded to its chief needs. Thus, to the man
possessing the greatest physical power there was acceded,
in the conditions of primitive life, the greatest moral and
social power in the community, and this was right. The
possessors of all those qualities summarised under the head
of chivalry formed the aristocracy of the Middle Ages, and

386 SOCIAL DOMINANCE OF THE FINANCIER

this was right and just. The type of the aristocrat, who was
capable of dealing with the affairs of State, who was the
most complete expression of the culture and refinement of
the society of the time, and possessed those graces and
amenities which enabled him properly to deal with all men
and all classes, again rightly received highest recognition.
All these types harmonise with the conscious or subconscious
recognition by society at large of the elements most needed
for its own self-preservation and advancement. A further
result was that the public power and consequent esteem
bestowed upon the type led the individuals within the com-
munity best fitted to fulfil its functions to develop in them-
selves those qualities. Thus the fittest within the community,
from this point of view, were by a natural process constantly
enlisted within the ranks of the leaders.

In our days, however, the greatest power, and, whatever
may be said to the contrary, ultimately the public esteem
which follows it, go to those who possess the greatest wealth.
Among all possible careers in modern life which lead to the
acquisition of greatest wealth, there is no doubt whatever
that the careers of finance, of all the work grouping round
the Stock Exchange, of company-promoting, etc., are the
supreme and readiest avenue to success. But it is equally
beyond all doubt, that the qualities required for such occupa-
tion or involved in the pursuit of it are not those which
morally and intellectually would be recognised as the best
and highest, and that the result of such work is not for the
good of the community. From the pulpits of the churches
and in our better moments of leisure, as well as with a small
minority of people whose voices cannot be heard in the
clash of so-called " public opinion," to the possession of
great wealth, is denied the approval, the esteem, or the admira-
tion accorded to what is best. On the contrary they are
assigned to individuals and to lives which turn their back
on material and mercenary advantages. But society as a
whole, by admitting a usurpation of greatest power to those
who do thus acquire greatest wealth, by that very act puts
its seal of approval on such a type, and with the power must
ultimately come the esteem. Furthermore, it will be found
as effective almost as a " natural law," that in assigning
such prizes to such occupations the fittest elements of society
are turned into such channels of life, and that the superior
qualities of character and mind which these may have pos-
sessed at the outset are diverted into channels of activity
which ultimately demoralise and vitiate them. To illustrate
this contention by actual life we need but turn to the examina-

THE "TRANSPORTATION" OF CAPITAL 387

tion of what is now happening in the United States. But
I wish at once to say that the strictures which I am about to
make do not apply to one nation as such, still less to a race ;
they apply only to the economical system which produces
them and which may be active in any community if they are
allowed to be effective. It has nothing to do with the
American nation or with the American constitution as such.
The production of this form of financier and promoter in
America among the purely American citizens is as little an
essential characteristic of that nation as, in other parts of
the world, the presence and the predominant power of certain
financiers of the Jewish race makes such economical disease
a characteristic of the Jews.

The great power and the numerous rewards in every aspect
of life which such financial work brings with it in America
has naturally attracted to these occupations a large proportion
of the most capable young men, both intellectually and
morally. When once, however, they have adopted such
occupations and constantly live in such a moral atmosphere,
their own mind and character become affected and vitiated,
and the great promise of their youth for the development of
the finest type of man and for the elevation of the standard
of the community in which they live is undone. An American
friend of mine, who left his home after he had completed
his studies at the University for some years, told me how
forcibly he was struck by the fact that nearly all his class-
mates of first-rate ability had been enlisted in those occupa-
tions which group round finance, stock exchange specula-
tion, and company promoting. But a very small propor-
tion among his gifted college friends had turned to scientific,
professional, or ordinary industrial and commercial work.
Even among those who had turned to the law, the most
capable again were attracted into that category of legal
pursuits (railway lawyers, etc.) which really made their
professional activity a part of the great speculative or com-
pany-promoting system. He gave me a graphic and impres-
sive account of a visit to Newport, the fashionable country
resort of wealthy Americans, as the guest of one of the
millionaires.

While driving with his host along the Ocean drive they met
a large number of the wealthy summer residents. His host
pointed out these several successful magnates to him, men-
tioning the millions which they possessed. The following
dialogue ensued : My friend asked his host how many of those
wealthy men had acquired their large fortunes in, what he
called, honest business.

388 HONEST AND DISHONEST BUSINESS

" What do you mean by honest business ? " asked his host.

" I mean those forms of business or professional occupation
which are recognised by the community as necessary and as
clearly for the good of society at large, and success in which
implies hard work, intelligence, wide experience, rapid decision
and resolution, power of organisation, power of induction in
forecasting future conditions, all based upon integrity and
fair dealing. I mean the established professions, that of the
lawyer, the doctor, the teacher ; I mean the merchant who
has studied every aspect of his trade and uses the capital of
his firm to order to bring the supply from all quarters to the
scenes of demand, thereby earning his just profit ; I mean
the manufacturer who develops a large industry, understands
every detail in the production of the commodity he supplies,
organises and utilises fairly the labour which he requires, and
thus directly increases the wealth of the nation ; I even mean
the inventor who himself has discovered some new object
greatly needed, or some new labour-saving process which
cheapens the cost of production of objects required, not
those who have merely manipulated his invention, often by
doubtful means ; I even mean the man who has had the
good fortune to discover or to inherit a site where great
mineral wealth has lain hidden (not the promoters of the com-
panies). But perhaps I can explain better to you what I
mean when I define what I do not consider straightforward
business ; it is business which leads to the accumulation of
great wealth chiefly by the manipulation of other people's
money, by the exploitation of some concession, by the mere
manipulation of the shares and stocks of a railway, and by
pure speculation. How many of the men you have pointed
out to me have, according to my definition, acquired these
large sums by honest business ? "

After pondering for a long while, the answer of the million-
aire, who had himself acquired his fortune by such manipu-
lation of capital, was " Not one." My friend then asked one
further question : " Do you, who have vast experience in
such matters, consider that it is possible for a man to accu-
mulate a large fortune, say ten million dollars, within a
short period, say ten to twenty years, without having passed
through one period, however short a moment, in which there
was a risk that he might lose, not only his own money, but
that of his friends, or of the public who had confided their
capital to him ? " Again there was a long thoughtful pause,
in which this successful veteran in the financial fight passed
the instances from his own experience before his inner eye.
Again the answer came, " No, it is not possible." Well, my

THE "TRANSPORTATION" OF CAPITAL 389

friend summarised this short and pregnant conversation,
" Then I do not consider that honest business."

But this is the occupation which stands at the very pinnacle
of economic and social life of the United States at this
moment. The power and, sad to say, generally the con-
sideration which this occupation brings are greater than
those of any of the highest functions of State, the loftiest and
lasting work in science, art, or literature, the self-denying
struggle during a whole life of him who devotes himself to the
bettering of men.

And what is the effect upon the life and character of him
who takes up such work, as far as the occupation itself is con-
cerned ; who started into lif e with the freshness and vigour
of a clear intellect, and the strength and purity of a sound and
manly character ? The whetting and sharpening of those
powers called forth in carrying " large deals " to a successful
issue, the attitude of militant distrust towards those with
whom he deals, the repression of all human impulses and the
compression of all passion into the channels which are to lead
to this rapid accumulation of great wealth, blunt the moral
fibre and produce in all other aspects of life cynicism, which,
as it lowers in him the estimation of the character of his
fellow-men, lowers most of all his own. A mediaeval autocrat
or a prince during the Italian Renaissance may have lived
up to the ideals of a Machiavelli and treated his fellow-men as
pawns in the great game of power ; but the very nature of
such a life, the atmosphere which surrounded them, the bril-
liancy and splendour which softened their lurid ambitions, the
struggle which constantly called for the defence or the sacrifice
of their own lives, the very permeation of life on all sides
with the recognised responsibilities which are entailed and of
which they were conscious as heads of the State, gave, as it
were, a dramatic justification to their existence and, at all
events, impressed responsibility towards the whole com-
munity, which, in case of revolution or war, would naturally
lead to their undoing. These compensating moments are
entirely wanting in the lives of the condottieri of the present
day, living upon the security of civilised social organisation
which the people at large grant them. An occasional assas-
sination by some disappointed madman is rightly repudiated
and punished by the laws of every land. With all this pro-
tection their responsibilities to the community as a whole
are none. There is no element of refinement, no saving grace
of heroism or devotion or sacrifice in any phase of their occu-
pation, which strenuously fills the whole of their conscious
existence. Their experience of men leads them to think,

390 DEGENERATING EFFECT OF CAPITALISM

and often to say, that there is not a man whom they cannot
buy ; and, directly or indirectly by insidious and remote
methods, this is not unfrequently the case. It is this
cynicism which is one of the leading characteristics of such
men and an inevitable result of the spirit in which they must
deal with their fellow-men. In the spending of wealth, again,
if its accumulation has not produced a type of the miser,
there is the coarse and irresponsible lavishness of the gambler,
demoralising the standards of expenditure for the whole com-
munity as its acquisition demoralises the commercial and
economic tone of the wealth- producing world. Their physique
as well as their morale, unless it be of the strongest (and then
it is likely to be coarsened into brutality), is undermined by
the nervous strain. The amenities of life and manners,
chivalrous conduct, graces of intellectual intercourse are far
below the average. In spite of this want of grace, besides
misleading the young men in their ideals of the occupation
of life to be followed, they can attract and secure the women,
whose ideals of life, whose fundamental outlook upon the
duties of a woman, are thereby vitiated. It has recently been
said, not without some justice, that many of the problems
suggested by what is now called eugenics (the improvement
of the race by proper marriage), that many of the evils with
which we are now battling, might be removed if the woman
were allowed to choose her husband. It is maintained that
she would be more likely to be guided in her choice by those
elements which not only make for a happy matrimonial state,
but would also lead to the improvement of progeny. In
one word : It would increase the chances for the survival of
the fittest. This would be still more likely if we did not live
under the curse of our central economic disease. For the
attraction which great wealth brings, especially to the life of
the woman, whose function is generally not to acquire but to
spend, is so great, that in the long run it will bring her to
choose the type whose leading characteristics I have just
sketched, generally unfit in body, coarsened in mind and in
character, and engrossed in an absorbing (though degrading)
occupation, which leaves no time for the cultivation of social
amenities or for that consideration, sympathy, and regard
which bring happiness to the wife, the mother, and the family.
This is the ideal type of man which the vicious development
of our modern economical life has produced, and which of
necessity has become an ideal for most of the young men in
the United States, superseding the ideals of those who founded
the great Republic and of the noble generations that succeeded
them.

THE "TRANSPORTATION" OF CAPITAL 391

The power of those possessors of great fortunes is, by the
inner need of capital and its manipulation in commercial life,
bound to grow. This power is not only felt in the economic
world itself, nor indirectly, as I have just endeavoured to show,
in its result upon social life and social ideals ; but also in
the remote spheres of our higher national life from which the
financier is, or ought to be, furthest removed. I am not
referring to the corruption introduced by their practice into
the Government of the State. This is manifest and has been
clearly shown by many writers and speakers. It has led to
the establishment of high protective tariffs, without which
many of these great financial enterprises could not have brought
the inflated wealth to their individual leaders. It is not an
exaggeration to say that nearly all the corruption which
admittedly exists in the Government of the United States
can be traced back to this source. But what I mean to
emphasise is the power without responsibility which many of
these possessors of inordinate wealth have in effecting and
modifying the course of more spiritual institutions which
uphold the higher life of our communities, a power possessed
by no living ruler, and probably not by any ruler in the past.
This does not only concern those institutions which we
broadly class under the heading of " charities," which they
can create or modify at will by throwing their millions into
the scales; but the educational institutions, those which provide
for the education of the young and the self- education of the
adult population, all that concerns science, art, and literature.
If such a millionaire is well guided and puts himself into the
hands of one who has made such topics his life- study, as he
in his life has devoted himself to the making of money, good
may come of it ; but if, as is not infrequently the case, the
definite view that one form of higher education is useless,
and another lower form which may dissipate and vitiate the
public mind is the only justifiable one to be encouraged, and
is held by one whose occupation and interests have naturally
given bias to the whole of his mind, he can modify the whole
intellectual life of a nation. In my opinion, for instance,
the creation of numerous scholarships in Scotland, which
on the face of it sounds generous and all for good, may rob
the Scotch people of one of the greatest intellectual and moral
assets which the conditions of their life and the traditions of
their past have established, namely, the widespread and vivid
realisation of the value of higher intellectual training ; and
it may lead to what I should call the pauperising of the
national intellect. Yet, what scientific or artistic institution
is far-sighted enough or strong enough to refuse the offer

392 MEANS OF CHECKING SUCH DEGENERACY

of millions ? If such men think that the aim of education
and the ideal of a civilised community are finally to be that
iron and steel and other commercial goods should be created
in vast amounts and transportation be made constantly more
rapid — desirable as all these may be — and nothing more ;
and that those forms of education which may for the time
being ignore these objects, but aim chiefly and directly at
improving and elevating the mind for the individual as well
as the intellectual, moral, and artistic life of the community
as a whole, — such a man has the power of carrying his point
by the force of money against all the accumulated experience
and the concentrated and self- devoted work of those who
have made the direct study of these problems their life-work,
as much as the multi-millionaire has made the accumulation
of money his own. Such is the power, even in the remotest
directions of life, which this cancer in the body-politic of
civilised countries has over the development of a healthy
nation.

The question is, " Can this be stopped by legitimate and
not revolutionary means ? " It certainly can, and, moreover,
by means which in themselves will remedy other glaring
defects in our public machinery.

I have referred merely to some of the evils necessarily arising
out of our present system of dealing with capital. The
chapter of indictments could be greatly enlarged and their
numbers swelled.

Can this curse be removed ? All attempts at tinkering
and at amending the practice are not enough. All preventive
and punitive enactments can be circumvented, while the
social evils in misdirecting the ideals, as regards the highest
occupation of business men and as regards the life and aim
of society as a whole, will remain.

The whole function of bringing capital and labour together
must be taken out of the hands of individuals and be entrusted
to the State. This is the only remedy for the disease, and
will, at the same time, mark the most powerful and beneficent
step in fiscal reform, providing the best means of grappling
with the grave problem of raising the funds needed for the good
government of the State on the lines of justice to its citizens,
that is, by turning for revenue to the sources where the
pressure will bear heavily on the poor. At the same time,
business enterprise will be encouraged on a sound basis. In
one word, the State will have to take over all the functions
now performed by the Stock Exchange, by the great financial
houses, and by the company-promoters. So far from being
in contradiction with our conception of the functions of the

THE "TRANSPORTATION" OF CAPITAL 393

State in its essentials, it is a natural and necessary step in
the evolution of our conception of the State on modern
lines. It implies no anarchistic or socialistic revolution ; it
spells reform on the lines recognised by all parties in the
successive legislative enactments of modern times for, at
least, a century. The development of our postal service,
which not so long ago was in the hands of private companies,
of telegraphs and of telephones, was in this direction. In
many States the nationalisation of the railways, and with us
the direct supervision and control of the railways, managed
by trustworthy and efficient companies ; even in foreign
finance the frequent direct influencing by the State of the
Stock Exchange in controlling the introduction of foreign
investments (often guided by definite problems of foreign
policy) ; the successful intervention of the State in New
Zealand regulating the tenure of the land and counteracting
the influences of the land- speculator, — all this is of the same
nature as what we advocate on the side of capital. As
regards labour, the more recent effective legislation of our
Old Age Pensions, the establishment of the Labour Bureaus,
and State Insurance — all these are on the same line of evolu-
tion. As we have established Labour Bureaus, so we can
and must establish Bureaus of Capital.

It will, of course, be said that individual enterprise will
be stifled ; it will be maintained that it is because of the
great rewards now coming to individuals that the great risks
are taken, which lead to the rapid development of our resources
and that otherwise these would he dormant and would not
contribute to the wealth of our nation. This is absolutely
untrue. It will certainly cause to lie dormant the spirit of
wild speculation and the hasty establishment of doubtful
enterprise. On the contrary, it will make commercial and
industrial enterprise all the more secure and sound. It will
add to finance and commerce that one element whch is most
potent in securing the ready circulation of capital and its
fearless application to new undertakings — namely, confidence.
It has invariably been seen that during financial crises money
has been locked up and business has been at a standstill,
not because the source of wealth had been dried up and
money was not there ; but, with money so tied up in the
coffers, or even in the stockings, of those who had it, there
was no confidence in the money market, inflated with gassy
speculation, unstable because all landmarks of guidance for
the direction in which it ought to flow were wiped out. When
such confidence is secured, capital will formally and continu-
ously flow in the channels where it can do most good.

394 THE CAPITAL BUREAU

This great Capital Bureau in the hands of the State will
take over all the functions that now belong to the Stock
Exchange, all the work of true company-promoting, under-
writing of capital, etc. All such companies will be registered,
a large staff of able and trustworthy commissioners will have
to examine and report on any new enterprise that is brought
within its ken. Of course doubts will be expressed as regards
the efficiency or honesty of such bodies, but there is no reason
why they cannot be made as efficient and as honest as the
officials of any other department of State. At all events, the
responsibility will always be clearly attached to them, and
the public will have the power to watch over the fulfilment
of these duties and punish any delinquency. Even in inter-
national finance, in which the investment of capital in other,
sometimes distant, countries is to be encouraged, our con-
sular and diplomatic machinery can be directly utilised for
such purposes. Even now they are spasmodically called in
for such work. But the very casualness of such use smacks
of unfairness and opens the door to partiality and dishonesty.

Who will dare to say that this cannot be done ? Remember
what has already been achieved in this direction in our days
compared with the remote past, especially in the intervention
of the State in questions of labour. I believe that the step
taken as regards labour in this direction is greater, in pro-
portion, than what would thus be done with regard to capital.

Finally, the commission, which the State will receive as its
just due for this most useful function, will produce by far
the greatest part of its revenue, and this will relieve us of
many other forms of taxation. All the money which now
swells the fortunes of the manipulators of other people's
money, all the money earned on the Stock Exchange by the
great financial houses and by promoters, will go to relieve
from taxation the regular and beneficent business enterprise,
and especially the poorer labourers. At the same time the
inventor, the discoverer of a mine, the possessor of conces-
sions, will no longer have to struggle through the solid,
though cryptic, phalanx that stands between them and the
realisation of the economic wealth they offer, in the form of
the promoter and the financial houses and the immoral tra-
ditions prevailing in their methods of work. They will at
once know where to go and where to find justice. So far
from stifling enterprise, it will facilitate and increase it by the
direct, manifest, and practical system with which capital
will be distributed, and, especially, by furnishing the most
important element in the establishment of values, that is,
confidence.

THE "TRANSPORTATION" OF CAPITAL 395

Call this socialism if you like j but it certainly arises out
of the actual needs of the day and is in no way subversive
of our society and its guiding principles. On the contrary,
it is the only means of confirming and strengthening our
social order. I know that some will say that if it be not
socialism it leads in that direction. They would attribute
to me, as they attribute to others, a hidden and insincere
purpose of aiming at more in the future, and asking for less
at present because one knows one cannot get more. I can
say in solemn truth, that I desire to see the present order
of society, its fundamental principles and the principles of
individualism, established more firmly, and not uprooted.
The method of argument applied in putting forward such
doubts is of the most nefarious. A good line of progress
is checked for fear that it might lead too far. My answer is,
" Stop it when it goes too far." But stay where you are
and block progress, and the compression of forces that move
onward, and rightly move onward, produces violence and
leads to revolution instead of reform. If the tyranny of
capital and syndicates goes on increasing and the irresponsible
power of the crownless millionaire-kings grows, demoralising
society from its highest to its lowest layers, the results may be
anarchy and revolution ; and all that constitutes the foun-
dations of modern society, built up through centuries of
civilised struggle, may be shaken and ultimately destroyed.
Only by such reforms are the weapons taken out of the
hands of the anarchist, and can our laws and our social aspira-
tions be safeguarded and strengthened.

Appendix V
HOW I PLACED A CONCESSION IN LONDON

Reprinted from Murray's Magazine, June, 1889

I had become a Concessionnaire. A happy thought had
one day struck me, on reading of the progressive tendencies
of the Torriline Republic as evinced by its apparently unlimited
willingness to allow foreign capital to be poured into it under
any pretext and for any purpose. I learnt that the municipal
authorities of the chief towns of the Republic were most
anxious to encourage the improvement and embellishment of
their townships, and I saw it curiously noted that, so far,
throughout the Republic no proper system of waterworks
had anywhere been constructed Although not a business
man, I was fired by my idea, and, having a little capital, I
determined to start at once for the Torriline Republic in
order to secure a Concession — the Monopoly of the Construc-
tion of Waterworks. I do not wish to dwell on this part of
my experiences at all, but merely say that, after the expendi-
ture of some money and pains and much time, I met with
success.

Having secured my Concession, I started back to England
in high spirits ; it was, after all, a valuable property, and I
intended to realise at once, and, whilst keeping more or less
in touch with the working of the Concession, so as to see
that it was properly managed, retire upon my hardly earned
laurels and rest — at any rate, in so far as that particular
business was concerned — in peace.

Accordingly, the day after my arrival in London I sallied
down to the City and called at the large and well-known
financial establishment of Barter & Co. I knew the active
working manager of the firm slightly, Mr. Dibbings, and sent
in my card to him. He immediately had me admitted, and
affably asked me what my business might be. He heard me
patiently out, and then raising his eyebrows and pursing his
hps, he said : —

" I don't wish you to lose your time, Mr. Smith — I don't

396

HOW I PLACED A CONCESSION IN LONDON 397

wish you to lose your time. I will therefore tell you at once
that I will have nothing to do with your Concession."

" Why not ? " I said, a little testily.

" In the first place," he answered, " it is Torriline. I have
no confidence whatever in Torriline business ; I always have
kept clear of it, and your proposals are not such as to induce
me to change my views. I will not lend the name of Barter
& Co. to anything which I do not consider a first-class sound
business. I have the greatest possible objection to being
made a stalking-horse by which to get at the public and
attract them into putting their money into doubtful con-
cerns ; and, begging you to excuse me for being so outspoken,
I must flatly decline to take any share in what you now offer
to me."

" I am obliged to you for your straightforwardness, Mr.
Dibbings," I replied ; " but you will allow me to remark
that in the first place, if I had not considered this a sound
business, I never should have come to you about it at all ;
and in the second place, if you suppose I had intended to use
you as a stalking-horse you are entirely mistaken. I brought
you a good business because I thought you would like it,
but I don't want you — not in the least. I can get on perfectly
well without you, and shall have no difficulty at all in finding
money." I said this for effect, and only wished it were true.

Mr. Dibbings raised his eyebrows and slightly smiled. " I
am very glad to hear it, my dear sir," he replied. " I meant
no offence, I am sure ; but I always say exactly what I think.
Besides being better business, it saves time both for me
and for those to whom I am speaking. Good day." And
before I knew where I was, I found myself walking away from
Messrs. Barter & Co. with a disagreeable feeling of having
played my trump card, failed, and not knowing what to do next.

I went to a variety of establishments with whom I had a
more or less extensive acquaintance, but at one and all was
met with very much the same answer. Many of them asked
if I had already a strong financial backing, because in that
case (the very one, as I took the liberty of pointing out to
them, in which I should not have had recourse to them) they
also would not have any objection to taking a certain share.
I got weary with explaining that I did not want them to take
a direct part in the business themselves, but to bring it out
upon the London market, to issue the shares to the public —
to float the company, in fact. Not one of them would listen
to it. One managing director only, seeing me, I suppose,
look tired and disgusted when his refusal was added to the
many others, advised me to go to brokers, and see what they

398 A BROKER'S OFFICE

thought of the matter, and whether possibly they would
raise the capital on commission. " You would thus, you
see," he said, " form a syndicate perhaps, which would set
the thing going, meet the first engagements, and turn it into
a company afterwards. There's lots of money sometimes to
be made that way," said he reflectively, — " lots ! "

"Ah! there is indeed," I replied. " Perhaps, Mr. Hard-
man," I added, as a sudden and happy afterthought,
" Messrs. Guldridge " (that was the name of his bank) " would
like to take part in it."

" Oh dear no ! " he said decidedly. " I have already told
you that it does not lie the least in our way of business. We
don't do that kind of thing, my good sir, we don't do it."

" But what kind of things do you do ? " I asked incredu-
lously.

" Other things," said Mr. Hardman. But in spite of his
mysterious answers and his shortness, he was more helpful
than the others I had seen, and gave me a letter to Messrs.
Bluff & Chowse, brokers, whose valuable aid I immediately
sought.

" Mr. Chowse is out," said a clerk to whom I showed my
letter. " I don't know where 'e's gone ; 'e said 'e'd be in
in ten minutes ; p'raps 'is brother 'ud do."

As I knew neither Mr. Tommy Chowse, to whom the letter
was addressed, nor his brother, I said I thought he would do.
The clerk then asked me to step in to Mr. Tommy Chowse's
room, and wait for a minute or two, and Mr. Alfred would be
down directly. The room in which I waited was a dingy little
place looking out upon one of those harrow lanes in the City,
which give one the idea instinctively that they are crammed
with wealth ; it was furnished with a biggish writing-table
covered with correspondence, financial papers, prospectuses,
and such articles of the trade, two chairs, and one of the
Exchange Telegraph self-recording instruments, which kept
on an alternate whirring and excited ticking as of an irritated
wood-pecker continually frustrated by a particularly hard
piece of bark. As I was amusing myself by trying to learn
some news from a tape- like paper ejected by the machine,
the door opened and in walked a tall gentlemanly man with, of
course, his hat on, and a most faultlessly spick-and-span hat
it was.

" Good morning, sir," he said, in rather an abrupt way,
" what can I do for you ? "

" I have a letter from Mr. Hardman," I replied, handing it
to him ; " perhaps you would glance through it before I state
my business."

HOW I PLACED A CONCESSION IN LONDON 399

It was only a few lines long, but he took as many minutes
to read them, and he just once gave me a keen, rapid glance
as he was reading. I was rather surprised at his taking so
long in reading so little, when he said :

" Oh ! I beg your pardon ; I'm very busy this morning,
and was thinking of something else. Ah ! this letter from
Hardman — ye-e-s. Well ! what do you expect us to do ? "

This abrupt conclusion a little disconcerted me. " This
Concession," I began

'* Hardman says nothing about a Concession," he inter-
rupted, " it's something about a Waterworks Company, or
something of that sort."

" I'll explain, if you'll allow me," I replied, " unless indeed
you're too busy, in which case I'll call to-morrow and see
your brother."

" No, no ! " he said, " you'd better shortly explain to me
what it is you want ; I'll talk it over with my brother, and
let you know to-morrow what we think. Fire away."

I shortly and concisely stated to him what my Concession
was, and what I now wished to do with it. As I drew to the
end of my discourse, I saw a twinkle in his eye and a quiver
at the corners of his mouth, and the slight effort necessary
for speaking was sufficient to cause him to lose control over
the muscles of his face.

" A very good statement, sir," he said, breaking into a
broad smile. " Might I ask if you have ever dealt in Con-
cessions before ? "

" No," I said, " I have not, never."

" You surprise me," he answered. " Well ! if you'll
kindly call in to-morrow at eleven in the morning, I'll tell
you what we think."

As I went home I could not help reverting in my mind,
over and over again, to what seemed to me to be his totally
unnecessary smile. I half feared that, being unused to this
kind of business, I might have made some foolish slip of
expression which might cause him to form a poor opinion
of my business-like capacity. I searched my memory to think
what it could be, but nothing occurred to me, and I tried to
conclude (though with poor success) that it was only a smile
of politeness.

The next morning when I presented myself I was im-
mediately shown into the same room as before, and there
found seated, one on each side of the writing-table, the two
Messrs. Chowse.

" I'm afraid," said Mr. Tommy Chowse, cocking his hat
back, after the morning greetings, " very much afraid that we

27

400 THE WAYS OF BROKERS

can't start that Concession for you. It's not precisely our
line. You've no one with you, have you ? I mean you are
sole Concessionnaire ? "

" Yes," I replied, " I am quite alone." At this reply I
thought I saw a scarcely perceptible wink pass between the
brothers.

" Who did you speak to before you saw Hardman ? " said
Mr. Tommy.

" Many people," I answered ; " amongst other, Mr. Dib-
bings, of Barter & Co."

" Ah," he replied ; " and what did he say ? "

I told him what he had said, and again fancied I noticed
a reciprocal wink of intelligence.

" Yes, well — you see, I don't know," said Mr. Tommy,
"I'm afraid I agree with him. Dibbings's is a devilish good
opinion — what do you think, Alf ? "

" Devilish," replied Mr. Alfred rather emphatically. " Mr.
Smith seems pretty confident about the business, too ! "

Mr. Tommy seemed to look upon this answer as conclusive.

" I'm really beastly sorry," said he, " and I'm sure I don't
want to discourage you or put you in a fix ; I'm afraid we
aren't the people for you — that's all."

I thought there was some indecision in his voice, and so,
remembering also the winks I had noticed, I began to hold
forth on the merits of my Concession with eloquence ; but it
was no use ; the more I talked, the more decided he seemed
to grow that he would have nothing to do with it.

" Well, gentlemen," I said, after trying my very best to
move them. " I will trouble you no more ; but allow me
to say that I am quite sure you will one day regret this as a
lost opportunity."

" Maybe ! " replied Mr. Tommy. " But although I can't
do the business for you, I'm always glad to see a good chap
or to help him. I'll give you a note to a friend of mine who
is pretty good at the kind of thing, and if you'll look round
any day at lunch time I'll be delighted to see you, or at any
time give you a bit of friendly advice, if you want it."

I caught at this with pleasure, for I was beginning to look
with dread upon the impossibility of meeting the engagements
I had taken in the Torriline Republic and of seeing my Con-
cession lapse ; and when I left the office of Messrs. Bluff &
Chowse, I determined to be a pretty frequent caller there
in the future. Mr. Tommy's letter was addressed to Rowley
Flasher, Esq.

The result of my inquiries about him was not very encour-
aging, in the sense that although no one said any harm of Mr.

HOW I PLACED A CONCESSION IN LONDON 401

Flasher, I could not make out that he had any great influence,
nor that he had ever been particularly successful. Many
people told me he was an " awfully clever chap," " a wonder-
ful fine talker," and a few seemed to know of some big
concerns which he had nearly launched, and in treating
which he had shown very considerable " smartness." On
the whole, I concluded I had better pluck up my courage,
smarten up my wits, and go for Mr. Rowley Flasher. I
found him to be a tall thin man, with the pale face and
light blue eyes which seem so common amongst City men
and frequently to accompany a talent for smartness. I gave
him Mr. Tommy's note, and in answer to his questions, which
were wonderfully to the point, very soon explained my
business to him

" Wait a minute, please," he said suddenly, rising from his
chair, and commencing to walk rapidly up and down the room
with his hands in the side-pockets of his coat. I watched him
in silence for a few minutes, when he as suddenly stopped,
turned towards me, and began to speak.

Then I sat in a state of alternate astonishment and rapt
admiration. He began by speaking quietly of the business
itself, running through a fight sketch of what it was, far better
than I could have done myself ; then he went on to develop
a whole scheme of how it was to be set going in England :
how this machine-factory, that engineer, the other contractor,
and so on, must be interested ; how thus certain great
financial houses could be led to support it. Passing on to
the future formation of a company, he waxed warm and
eloquent.

" This, sir," he said, " is more than a mere business specu-
lation ; it is a great patriotic work. Through it we shall
effect the spread of English ideas, and let in a flood of light
and civilisation upon countries now in a state of primitive
barbarity. From this point of view we must approach men
who, shrinking from business as a rule, will, nevertheless,
consent to sit on the Board of so great an undertaking as is
yours."

He went on to propose that we should construct a variety
of Boards ; a political Board, a technical Board, and a finan-
cial Board. Lord Salisbury would be the chairman of the
one, Lord Armstrong of the other, Lord Rothschild of the
third. It might possibly, he thought, be better to turn the
affair into an international concern ; there was quite room
enough for everybody, and the Torriline Government was,
politically, so suspicious. And so he went on, leading me
through Elysian fields of imaginary prosperity, until I saw

402 MR. ROWLEY FLASHER

myself as rich as Midas, and holding the destinies of nations
in the hollow of my hand. Considering, he said, that almost
the entire labour would fall upon him, and that the whole
business would be mounted and set going by introductions
coming through him, it was only fair that we should go
half-and-half into the business, for expenses as for profits.
I did not consent to this until I had had a day or two for
reflection, and had taken as impartial advice as I could
manage to obtain.

When the business relations between us had thus been
satisfactorily settled, we set to work. Mr. Rowley Flasher
was a very much occupied man, and could not devote all
his time to this one business ; but he took the leadership, I
acting under his direction. I was at first for obtaining the
promises of the great men he had mentioned to serve as
chairmen of the different Boards, and then, with the great
advantage which would be lent by their names, to return to
the big financial houses again, and see whether they would
not think better of it. But he would not hear of it. I had
already hawked the Concession about too much, he said — we
should get it depreciated ; he preferred doing things quietly.
We did things so quietly, that I remained idle, though anxious,
for days, until one morning he said that if I would accompany
him to a friend of his, I should see that we had made more
progress than I supposed. The name of his friend was
Croker ; on our way to his office he explained to me that he
was a man of enormous influence ; one of the very first
Company-promoters in London.

" And now do take care, Smith," he besought me. " You're
not much accustomed to this kind of work, and I am really
so awfully afraid of your letting yourself in. The best thing
you can do is to keep your mouth shut. I will tell you
honestly that I wouldn't take you with me, only as the
Concession is originally yours. I want you as a kind of con-
firmation of what I say. I don't mean to be rude, only
Croker is as sharp as a needle, and will be through and
through and in and out of every word you say, and before
you know it you may have compromised everything. I'll
talk ; you look confirmation."

These warnings, upon which Flasher rang the changes all
the way, made me feel some little trepidation when we entered
Croker's offices. We were immediately shown into his own
room, which was adjoining a much larger one in which several
persons were sitting, " doing the antechamber." Croker and
Flasher seemed to be old friends ; they shook hands cor-
dially, and I was well received on Flasher's introduction. We

HOW I PLACED A CONCESSION IN LONDON 403

came in in the midst of an incident which interested me so
much that I think it is worth noting. A poor, common- looking
man was there, to whom Croker addressed himself again, when
he had finished greeting us.

" Well, my good man," he said with resignation in his
voice, " let's hear it again."

The man then gave a laborious explanation of a method
he had invented of making trousers by machinery without a
seam in them. He said no one else could make them like
that — that it had cost him years of thought, and that he
would sell it to Mr. Croker for a sum of money down.

" But how," said Croker, " do you suppose I am going to
make anything out of that ? "

" Oh, well," said the man, " that's your look-out ! This
is a first-class way of cutting trousers, and saving cloth ; I
know as there's no one else can do it. And I've brought it
to you. Just you look here," and he went off again into his
laborious explanation right from the very beginning.

Croker touched a bell which summoned a clerk. Then
quite politely cutting his interlocutor short, he asked him to
follow the clerk and explain the matter carefully to him : the
clerk would write the explanation down, and he himself
would be able to study it to better effect. The man, as he
turned away, grumbled out something about preferring to
deal with principals, and he left the room looking rather
disconsolate.

"It's a perfectly awful waste of time ! " exclaimed
Croker, when we were alone ; " what the deuce can I do with
a thing of that sort ? Those kind of chaps are such fools ;
they are created, I do really believe, for the sole purpose
of tempting one to make bogus companies. But I am always
sorry for them and treat them well."

Mr. Croker — who was not a prepossessing-looking man,
being small and dirty, and blessed with a squint — could not
have said anything which could have set me more in his
favour. I could not, in my mind, help comparing him with
certain men whose co-operation I had been forced to accept
in the Torriline Republic, and congratulating myself on being
an Englishman, and having to deal with my own countrymen,
honest and compassionate. We now immediately began to
talk over my business, with which Croker evidently had
already a general acquaintance. Flasher did most of the
talking, and wonderfully well he did it too, Mr. Croker every
now and then asking a question or taking a note.

11 That'll do," [he said at last j "and what do Eccles &
Dumper say to it ? "

404 RAISING CAPITAL

" Most satisfactory," answered Flasher. " They are red-
hot to support it."

This answer nearly made me jump, for Eccles & Dumper 's
is one of the biggest firms of contractors in the world. With
great effort I suppressed all sign of pleasure and surprise, and
looked carelessly in front of me, as if this welcome piece of
news were quite ancient history to me. Indeed I had to
continue the effort, as Flasher brought other names, both in
the engineering line and financial, which were equally sur-
prising and delightful. Now and then Croker looked at me
as if for confirmation, but, knowing nothing and remem-
bering Flasher's advice, I looked much and did not open my
lips.

" Well," said Croker, after some time, " it all seems in
capital trim. I'm afraid I have no more time this morning :
come back to-morrow, will you ? and I'll tell you what I
propose."

Returning from Croker's office, I simultaneously con-
gratulated Rowley Flasher on the extraordinary progress he
had made, and reproached him for having kept me so much
in the dark. " You ought at least," I said, " to have told me
about Eccles & Dumper. I could have gone and seen
them, and it would have been much more effective if I could
have explicitly confirmed what you said, instead of sitting
there like a stuck pig."

" You acknowledge yourself I have done the thing thor-
oughly well so far," said Flasher, " and I really must beg of
you to allow me to conduct this business as I consider best.
I must also ask you to take no steps without my consent.
You do not know what smart men you have to deal with.
On no account go and see Eccles & Dumper ; I am arranging
with them, and if you interfere, things will only get muddled.
You must have confidence in me." He spoke so decidedly,
and had managed so successfully, that I thought better not
to take offence at the implied rudeness of his speech, but to
submit.

The next morning we went back to Croker's office, and
found that gentleman in a state of high delight. " We can
do it, Rowley, my boy ! " he cried ; "we have only to talk
out details a bit now, and put things down on paper. I can
see my way."

They talked a great deal and a long while, I sitting by most
of the time in the quality of a listener. In fact, they only
referred to me once, and then they utterly disagreed with
my answer, and refused to follow my advice.

" What," asked Rowley Flasher, " what capital do you think

HOW I PLACED A CONCESSION IN LONDON 405

we shall want, remembering of course that you must add a
good lot on for working capital, as the business may not pay
in the first year or two, and that financing requires a good
percentage ? "

I had my answer pat, for I had thought of all this before.
" Say three hundred thousand pounds," I replied.

"Oh, nonsense, sir!" said Croker. "You haven't the
least idea of the expense of floating companies, and you vastly
under- estimate the capital required for the business itself."

Flasher fully supported Croker 's view, whilst I somewhat
hotly disputed it. Croker himself appeared to take notes of
my arguments at first, and then to enter into a few calcu-
lations. When he had finished them he broke in again.

" It can't be done under a million," he said shortly ; " at
least / won't have anything to do with it under that. I
can't afford to have my name connected with a badly launched
business. You are at perfect liberty, of course, to take the
thing out of my hands, and go elsewhere with it." He fol-
lowed up the impression which of course this made upon me
by demonstrating the truth of his assertion, and at last I gave
way to his superior authority.

This point being settled, they referred no longer to me, but
drew up a plan between them as to the formation of a com-
pany. They entered into a variety of details which I could
not very well follow, and presently came to the necessity of
registering the Company.

" Oh, as to that," said Croker, " we only want the usual
association of seven persons for a lawful purpose, and we'll
register at once. We'll get Clinker & Dance to draw up
the memorandum. Do you agree, Mr. Smith, generally, to
the terms ? You will be paid fifty thousand pounds, of
which twenty- five thousand in cash on the first call and twenty-
five thousand in shares. Naturally you will be a Director.
Do you wish to name Directors ? "

" No," I replied, " I don't."

" Very good ! " answered Croker. " Then Flasher and I
will name them. You had better leave all details to us.
We will call a Board-meeting at the earliest opportunity, for
the purpose of settling the purchase agreements and drawing
up the prospectus, and we'll launch the Company as soon
as possible. Please say, do you agree to the amount men-
tioned for purchase ? "

" Oh, yes ! " I said. " It is a fair price." I should think
it was indeed ; it surpassed my highest expectations !

"Very good!" said Croker. "Then good morning! I
shall set to work at once."

406 THE FIRST BOARD MEETING

When we left him, Flasher told me I had better not bother
myself any more until I heard from him again. I should
only worry myself to no purpose. The matter was now in
perfectly first-class hands, and would go on wheels. It was
a week before I saw him again, and then only because I was
asked to attend the first Board-meeting. I thought it much
better not to interfere and get in the way of these excellent
business men. I once meanwhile paid a call on Mr. Tommy
Chowse, to thank him for his valuable introduction. He
received my thanks in an off-hand manner, and seemed
mightily tickled at something or other, which I could not
quite make out.

I shall not easily forget that first Board- meeting. To my
great annoyance Rowley Flasher got a telegram a few minutes
before it began, which absolutely prevented him from attend-
ing it. " Awfully sorry, I am — really," he protested ; " but it
can't be helped ! It doesn't really much matter. Croker is a
splendid chap to talk. You need only confirm what he says."

When I went into Croker's office I found eight men already
there whom Croker introduced to me as future Directors.
The future Chairman bore a name well known in society ;
and the names of two or three of the others were familiar to
me as directors of various big companies.

" We had better get to business at once, gentlemen," said
Croker, after a little desultory chatter. " We are most of us
pressed for time. In the first place, Mr. Smith, I must tell
you that at a kind of preliminary meeting we had a day or
two ago we decided to ask you to take your seat on the
Board only after the Company is formed and all the purchase
agreements, and so forth, executed. You being vendor, and
we (the Company) purchasers, we think it not only looks
better, but is better, leaves us all freer, to adopt that course.
It seems to us the straightforward way to act. Do you
agree ? "

" I agree of course," I replied, " if you gentlemen are of
that opinion. I object, however, to being kept in the dark
as to what is going on, and must be kept fully informed."

" Of course," said the Chairman, in a pleasant, bland voice,
" Mr. Smith is right ; he must be kept informed."

" No doubt whatever about it," said Croker. " Mr. Rowley
Flasher will keep him fully informed. Then you do agree,
Mr. Smith ? "

" Oh, yes ! " said I.

" Very well," continued Croker : " then, gentlemen, I will
just run over the chief points again ; Mr. Smith will correct
me if I go wrong."

HOW I PLACED A CONCESSION IN LONDON 407

He talked rapidly and almost as well as Flasher. His
estimates seemed to me rather exaggerated, but I did not care
to interrupt him on what was, after all, a mere matter of
opinion. But presently he glibly declared that I had
received promises of support from Eccles & Dumper, and
all the other firms whom Flasher had named.

" Oh, no ! " I said, " you are perfectly mistaken. I never
said anything of the kind. I don't even know the firms."

" Then you shouldn't have said you did," replied Croker ;
" either Flasher spoke and you confirmed him, or you spoke
and Flasher confirmed you ; it comes to precisely the same
thing."

I could not answer this, for truly I had confirmed Flasher
by my silence. I consoled myself by thinking that Flasher
was all right, and would not have dared play fast and loose
with the names of such big firms. No other incident occurred
worth noting until the signature of the purchase agreement
with me. Then all the Directors congratulated me, we
severally wished the business good luck, and the meeting broke
up.

I was not asked to come to another. Rowley Flasher kept
me informed of progress ; the memorandum of association
was signed ; the Company registered ; and prospectuses
launched.

I was astonished to see that, according to these, seven
hundred and twenty-five thousand pounds' worth of shares
had already been taken up. I also saw that the vendor, Mr.
Smith, had already extensive connections and had assured
himself of a large trade.

" What do you mean by extensive connections ? " I asked
Flasher.

" Oh ! / don't know," he replied. " The President and
that kind of thing. One must gas a little in this sort of
business."

I was also rather astonished to see that Messrs. Guldridge
were to be the bankers, and I made the remark.

" Oh, yes ! we've got them of course," answered Flasher,
and I could get no more explanation out of him on the
subject.

I think what surprised me most was to hear that Barter &
Co. were to bring the business out ; not only because Mr.
Dibbings had been so extremely positive with me, but it
hardly seemed worth while for them to trouble themselves
about it when seven hundred and twenty-five thousand out of
the million were already subscribed. But about this Mr.
Flasher treated me as much de haut en has as before ; he said the

408 MESSRS. ECCLES & DUMPER

matter was now on quite a different footing, that Croker was a
man of great standing and influence, and of course Barters
would listen to him, and so on.

It was a few days after this, and only two before the sub-
scription was to be opened by Barter & Co., that I received
a letter from Eccles & Dumper, asking me to come and see
them at once. I immediately went, and was received by a
short, dry little man, who made me a stiff bow, and asked
me, point-blank, when we were left alone, whether I was
responsible for the statement, industriously circulated in the
City, that his firm was prepared largely to back the Torriline
Waterworks Monopoly Company just about to be brought out.

" Certainly not," I answered. " I never stated anything
of the sort."

" Kindly read those letters, Mr. Smith," said he.

I read them. They were written in various styles of com-
position, but all made the same statement, and asked the
same question. In answer to their letters inquiring as to
Mr. Smith's extensive connections, the correspondents were
informed by letters signed by one or other of the Directors
of the new Company, or by Mr. Hardman or Mr. Croker,
that Mr. Smith had declared that Messrs. Eccles & Dumper
were strongly supporting the Torriline Waterworks Monopoly
Company. They begged that this might be confirmed. I sat
aghast.

" I ! — / say so !. Mr. Eccles — sir — I assure you," I stam-
mered, " I am absolutely innocent. But Mr. Flasher said —
you know Mr. Flasher ? "

"Not I, sir," replied Mr. Eccles; "never met him in my
life."

" Good God, sir ! " I cried, " not know Mr. Flasher ! But

Mr. Flasher " I really feared to go on, I did not know in

what net I might not become entangled. " What answer
have you made to these letters ? " I inquired at last, feebly.

" So far," said Mr. Eccles drily, " none whatever. I
strongly advise you, sir, to go and see Mr. Flasher at once."

I did not require that advice twice. I flew as fast as a
hansom cab could take me to Flasher's office, and let forth
the vials of my wrath and fear upon that gentleman. He
took no more notice of my objurgations than if I had been in
an adjoining planet. He heard me out to the end ; then he

shot one glance at me and muttered " D d fool ! " and I

overheard him, as he left the room, saying, " overtalked
myself, as usual," — and he left me alone.

I remained there, not knowing what to do, until he re-
turned. " I've squared Eccles," he said unpleasantly ; " you

HOW I PLACED A CONCESSION IN LONDON 409

entirely misunderstood the whole thing. I told you not to
go there. That slip will have cost a pretty penny. Don't
go meddling any more without consulting me ! All you've
got to do is to keep out of the way."

" Look here ! " I said decidedly. " Look here, Flasher !
Is this business all square ? I won't have my name, for fifty
thousand or five hundred thousand pounds, mixed up in
anything shady. I'll write to the papers as Concessionnaire,
and declare that false statements have been made."

" Mr. Smith," said Flasher, in a stately manner, " I will
not presume, whatever my suspicions may be, to question
your motives in behaving in this extraordinary way at the
last hour. I will not talk to you in your present state of
mind. If you have suspicions, pray go and talk them over
with Clinker & Dance ; it's their business. I really have
not time."

I left him on the spot and went straight to Clinker &
Dance. They reassured me ; they explained to me the pros-
pectus throughout, and reminded me of the misunderstanding
about Flasher's statements at the Board-meeting at which
their representative had been present. They smoothed me
down and flattered me up, and fully persuaded me that I
had been quite wrong and Flasher quite bond fide. Two days
afterwards Barter & Co. brought the Company out. When
they closed, the shares were at a fine premium. They fell
below par a few days later, and then large purchases began
to take place. They were enormously in demand. They
rose above the first premium ; I congratulated myself on a
brilliant success. But my feeling of triumph soon disappeared ;
the financial papers attacked the whole business in general,
and me and the Directors in person, in a way which made me
tingle. I wish at once to tell the truth as shortly as I can,
dupe and fool though it may make me appear. I learnt it
all from one of Clinker & Dance's chief clerks, an honest,
little chap with whom I became intimate. It was one day
when I was complaining bitterly to him, and declaring I
would bring an action for libel against the Financial Planet,
a leading City paper, that this man, whose name was Twigger,
strongly advised me to drop any idea of the sort at once, and
keep quiet. " If not," he said, " you will run into a nasty
job which you may never get clear of. Lie still now, and at
the outside in a few months' time the whole thing will be
forgotten ; my strong advice to you is not to risk a storm."
Then by dint of much persuasion and by swearing secrecy
I managed to induce him to reveal the whole thing to me.

It appeared that Croker & Flasher had both made very

410 A PRETEXT OF HONOUR

large sums of money indeed, so had Messrs. Guldridge as a
bank, Mr. Hardman personally, Barter & Co., Bluff & Chowse,
and others.

" At that Board Meeting at which you were," said Mr.
Twigger, " you ought to have had some friend with you a
little bit up to the business ; you were kept out of the Board
on a pretext of honour. The real reason, you know, was
that they didn't want you to know what was going on ; you
had shown yourself touchy about honour and all that kind
of thing, and might have got in their way."

" Oh ! " I murmured mechanically, " got in their way ! "

" Just so, sir ! " continued Mr. Twigger. " There was the
memorandum of association to be signed, and all kinds of
bogus agreements to be got up to be palmed off on the public.
Seven hundred and twenty-five thousand pounds had been
subscribed before the prospectus was issued. You perhaps
do not know that you subscribed for twenty- five thousand of
that ? "

" No," I answered feebly, " I had no idea of it."

" Ah ! " said Mr. Twigger, " yes, the twenty-five thousand
pounds in shares which was part of the price given you —
they were included. Of the other seven hundred thousand,
Mr. Croker and Mr. Flasher took about three-quarters and
the other gentlemen took the rest. It was," said Mr. Twigger
reflectively, " about as smart a thing in promotion- money as
ever I saw arranged."

" Do you mean to say," I asked incredulously, " that not
one single penny had really been subscribed ? Why, I saw a
tremendous list of shareholders ! "

" Shareholders ! " said Mr. Twigger pityingly. " Fiddle-
sticks, sir, begging your pardon ! Men of straw, all of them ;
nominees of Croker, Flasher, etc. No, sir ! not one penny
was subscribed. Bless you ! there are some rich men come
out of this job. Barters too ! they were in the swim. The
whole, or nearly the whole, of the other two hundred and fifty
thousand they and Guldridges took up and held back. They
couldn't have allotted one in ninety ! The public had been
played on beforehand — (Eccles & Dumper were squared by
Mr. Flasher after you had seen them, and lent their names for
a good consideration — but it was pretty touch and go, that
was ; Mr. Eccles was real riled) — and there was a rush on
Barters for the shares. Up they goes to a nice premium, and
then Barters & Guldridges realised cleverly and made a tidy
profit."

" Then there was a fall," I reminded him.

" There was, sir," said Mr. Twigger with a grin, " brought

HOW I PLACED A CONCESSION IN LONDON 411

about by bogus sales. Mr. Croker and Mr. Flasher, et cetera,
managed to buy up a good lot of what Barters had got rid
of at a premium below par."

" Then there was a rise," I said.

" There was, sir ! " said Mr. Twigger in the same voice,
and with the same grin, " brought about by bogus purchases.
The gentlemen have realised a good lot since. I think you
may say they've let off quite three-quarters on the public
now."

" But who did all the bogus buying and selling ? " I
inquired. " Brokers must have known what a vile trick they
were playing ! "

" Brokers know ! " exclaimed Mr. Twigger compassion-
ately. " Oh, Lord ! why, it was Bluff & Chowse did most
of it, and they turned a pretty penny. They had their agents
and friends who helped too. They'd have liked to have
worked you all by themselves, but they couldn't quite manage
it, and were obliged to let in partners to take a share of you."

" Work me ! a share of me!" I exclaimed warmly.
" Really, Mr. Twigger, you seem to know an extraordinary
deal. I am inclined to imagine that you are drawing on your
imagination."

" Not a bit of it, sir," said Mr. Twigger good-humouredly.
" I am not surprised at your being riled. But you may take
my word for it, it's all as true as gospel. Many of the men
we've been talking about are clients of ours, and they've
been chuckling about the business at our place. Mr. Croker
laughed a good deal over a ' trouser-scene ' he'd got up, he
said, on purpose to make you think what a good honest chap
he was."

" Then," I cried, my wrath rising again at the villainous
way in which I had been gulled, "I'll expose the whole
thing ! My estimate was right. Only three hundred thousand
pounds of capital was necessary, and now in order to swindle
out big profits, these people have palmed off a million on the
public. I'll be no party to it ; I'll bring an action, — I'll "

" Don't do it, sir," said Mr. Twigger persuasively. " You'll
be sure to lose. Clinker & Dance can sail as close to the
wind as ever you like, and never let their clients do anything
which will make them guilty before the law. Besides, they've
so entangled you in it, that really, sir, begging your pardon,
you might cut as bad a figure as any one."

I felt hopelessly discouraged ; it seemed to me that I was
wound round and round by a strong net from which I could
not cut myself free. I gave vent to my feelings by pouring
out a long invective upon the iniquity of financiers like the

412 A CONSPIRACY

Barters and Guldridges, who rejected my business when it
was honest, to fall upon it ravenously when it had become
a swindle ; who forced me into the hands of men like Flasher
and Croker, seemingly for the pleasure of making money
dishonourably.

" It is just like a conspiracy," I groaned.

"Not like, sir," corrected Mr. Twigger, " it is a conspiracy;
financial people form a kind of guild, and you can't work
otherwise than the guild chooses ; they play into each other's
hands, and every one makes bigger profits than they other-
wise would. I don't know if it is possible to do a business
of your kind honestly and above-board from beginning to
end, in the City now. Only we don't call it swindling, we call
it smart business."

I have resolved never to touch a Concession again.

John Smith (A Concessionnaire).

Appendix VI

THE AESTHETIC ELEMENT IN THE EDUCATION OF
THE INDIVIDUAL AND OF THE NATION

An Address delivered to the Parents' National Educational
Union, 1910, as reported in the " Parents' Review," March 1910,
by Professor Charles Waldstein, Litt.D., Ph.D., L.H.D.

From the very outset, I should like to guard against a
misunderstanding. I wish it to be known that no one values
more highly than I do the field sports and pastimes of our
nation, the athletic games of England. They have played a
very important part, not only in the physical education of
the British race, but also in the formation of the British
character, the manliness, the sense of fair play, which, how-
ever much they may be possessed by other nations, must be
considered one of our characteristic national qualities. But
if I should, in the course of my remarks, say what may sound
like censure of the part which sports play in our national
life, a one-sidedness which has led to philistinism, I do not
wish it to be understood that I do not value highly the im-
portance which they have for us. So, also, I do not wish
it to be thought — it almost sounds like a platitude for me to
say so — that I in any way undervalue the importance of
science, the intellectual and moral education of our people
as individuals, and of ourselves as a nation. The develop-
ment of the sense of truth, the striving for it in pure concen-
tration and in the highest form, which we call science, is one
of the central factors demanding the attention of the educator,
and is one of the ennobling elements of the life of the nation.
And if I should, in the course of what I have to say, point
to some shortcomings of a too exclusive view as regards the
importance of science in national education, I should not
like to have it thought that I in any way depreciate the
central importance and noble aims of science as a whole.
In the same way, I hope I need hardly tell you that I do
not undervalue the importance of morality for the individual

413

414 SCIENCE, MORALITY AND ART

and for the nation, nor the study of morality in a system of
ethics. It is a most important study, most worthy of our
attention. But that point of view, when taken too exclu-
sively in our own national consciousness, as an element to
be striven after, may also, when it is thrust out of proportion,
be harmful to our national intellectual sanity. I may
perhaps recur to this in the course of what I have to say.
And, finally, no one can have more reverence for that supreme
attitude of mind in which the individual stands face to face
with his ideals, with the ideals of human life, with the great
relationship between the individual and the cosmos as a
whole — whatever we may call it : God, the higher spiritual
life, religion. I do not wish it in any way to be thought
that I undervalue the importance of religion in the conscious-
ness of the individual and of a civilised nation. And yet,
if I may appear to point to the shortcomings of a view
exclusively religious, and out of place when other calls are
before man and his consciousness, I should be sorry if I were
misunderstood as in any way belittling, or not paying due
respect to, that highest of all human intellectual attitudes of
mind.

I wish I had been in Birmingham yesterday and had
had the privilege of listening to Sir Martin Conway's paper —
read, I have no doubt, most efficaciously by Mr. Wallis. I
should have liked very much not only to have heard the
paper, but also to have listened to the discussion. I should
have liked to have heard in the evening the address which
Mr. Alfred Lyttelton gave on " The National Drama." All
that I could do was to read the accounts of these addresses and
discussions in the morning paper. And I there also read in
one of your papers, in the Post, a very interesting leading
article, with which I was in great sympathy. Much was said
yesterday by the various gentlemen with which I am in
absolute accord. There are other points on which I differ from
them, as may become apparent in the course of what I have
now to say to you. I am also in sympathy with the criticisms,
which I could only read in shortened extracts, of your art
master, Mr. Catterson Smith. I feel deep sympathy with
the view which, I take it, he expressed. He seemed to take
umbrage at the statement contained in Sir Martin Conway's
paper, that art was primarily meant to please. I absolutely
agree with Sir Martin Conway. Art is primarily meant to
please. But the question is, what pleasure means. And,
therefore, I am in sympathy with the remarks that I
could glean from the report of Mr. Catterson Smith, who
insisted upon the seriousness of art, upon the serious moral

THE .ESTHETIC ELEMENT IN EDUCATION 415

aims which art has, and ought to hold before itself. He
was speaking, I take it, rather as an art-worker, and every
worker ought to do his best when he is working. " Whatso-
ever thine hand findeth to do, do it with thy might."
That means a sacrifice ; that means a serious attitude, that
means a fight, and a struggle in the making of a work of
art ; and the higher the aim of the art- worker, the higher
his ultimate ideals, and the more he concentrates upon learn-
ing his craft, and forcing his hand to follow his mind and his
heart, the better, no doubt, will be the work.

In so far the religious point of view belongs to all human
activity ; it means no more than the sense of duty, the
concentration of all our energies upon what we are doing.
But it would not lead us much farther if we said that a man
of science, who is bent upon discovering truth, must always
consider the goodness and the Tightness of what he is doing.
That will look after itself, if he really strives after truth.
If the artist really strives after beauty, and after producing
that pleasure which in itself is necessarily and essentially
elevating and ennobling, he need not trouble further about
the moral or the religious point of view ; he is moral and he
is religious.

Art, remember, differs from the vocation which leads to and
aims at utility. It differs from the scientific attitude which
aims at truth. It differs from the moral attitude which,
primarily and directly aims at goodness. They are all different
attitudes of mind which must be concentrated upon at given
moments. A proper development of each one of these sides
in human nature and life constitutes moral health in the
individual, and moral health and higher civilisation for a
nation. But in each one of these cases we have definite
tasks before us. Though art, and its aim of pleasing nobly,
differs from utility (it may in one sense even be directly
opposed to it), that does not mean that the two cannot live
side by side ; and though that playful attitude of mind
(spielend as Kant and Schiller called it) excludes for the time
being concentration on use, truth, or goodness, on pragmatics,
science, or ethics, that does not mean that we ought to be
unpractical, untrue, or immoral.

The aim of art is to please nobly. And art means the
attitude of mind as regards the world of form, created by man
or in nature, in which form becomes the essence. From this
point of view we do not only consider works of art, but
nature and life as well. It is chiefly with that attitude of mind
that I mean to deal to-day. It is the aesthetic faculty of
man, that inner need and fundamental instinct, with which

28

416 THE WIDER MEANING OF ART

every healthy child is born, which makes for proportion,
harmony, beauty — whatever other term you wish to give to
it. That is a fundamental instinct in man, and is an essential
faculty in all healthily developed human beings, and it must
be developed in every aspect of our existence. Art is the
most direct way of satisfying this inner need, this primary
instinct for proportion and harmony and beauty, as science
is the most direct means of satisfying man's fundamental need
for truth, though truth comes into every thought and action
of our daily life. And that being the case, there are men
singled out, because of their fitness for the task, to devote
their chief attention in life to the satisfying of that instinct
for beauty and form, however it manifests itself. There is a
great misunderstanding concerning the nature of art in our
country and in the English language. Most people think that
art means painting. They may include sculpture, they may
include architecture, they may even include decoration. They
are not aware that art means all work of the human brain
and hand which is meant directly to satisfy that fundamental
desire for proportion and harmony and beauty : that music
is art, only in a different form of expression, that painting
and sculpture and architecture are art, that poetry is art ; that
all forms of literature which are not directly intended to impart
information and to teach and to discover truth, whenever the
literary form is an essential part of the thing produced, are
art. As Aristotle put it : " Form and matter fused together
in harmony make up art." All the various forms of literature
are art. The novel is a very pure and high form of art.
Dancing is an art. In short, all those human activities which
make for the satisfying of the fundamental aesthetic instinct
inherent in man constitute art.

Now, it is upon the more ultimate effect of that attitude of
mind in education, in the education of the individual, and
the education of the nation, that I wish to concentrate your
attention this evening. And I shall begin with two para-
doxes : " No moral tenet is practically efficacious unless it
has become an element of taste." That sounds trite, and I
mean it to be paradoxical. And my second proposition is :
" No social law is efficacious unless it has become fashion-
able." That is still more trite, almost immoral. But I
mean it seriously, and I shall endeavour to show you what I
mean. Every educational injunction and example has as its
ultimate effect that it produces taste ; and taste is the im-
portant element which, I claim, directs action. It ought thus
to be one of the chief aims of the educator to produce good
taste. Yet I venture to say that of all educational factors

THE ESTHETIC ELEMENT IN EDUCATION 417

it is the one which comes least within the purview of the
educator.

Let me impress upon you, before I proceed, that in speaking
of art and the aesthetic faculty I have not in mind the effemin-
ate dilettanti, with whom you are familiar, who have long
since been held up to ridicule in the powerful pages of Punch,
who lose all sense of the proportion of life by self-complacently
smacking their lips over recondite and select elements of beauty
which the vulgar and lower do not know of, and in and out
of place stultify their activity by thus self-complacently
smacking their lips in artistic contemplation. They have
arrogated to themselves the term " Hellenism." They know
not what ancient Greece was. Theirs (the ancient Greeks)
was a healthy life. Theirs were healthy ideals of manhood
and of human life. All sides and all faculties, physical,
mental, and moral, were to be developed in proportion; and
art and the appreciation of art formed a part of this. They
were manly. These " aesthetes " are effeminate.

We must find the proper position of art in life and its rela-
tion to conduct. It is then not opposed to morality. But
I even maintain — and I am not exaggerating — that, from the
educational and practical point of view, morality itself must
become aesthetic. That is, it must appeal to our sense of propor-
tion and harmony and beauty, in order that it should become
truly efficient in fife. In other words, we must admire and
love the good ; and that means a direct appeal to our artistic
sense, not to the stern sense of intellectual cognition, realising
truths only, but loving them, admiring them, and being moved
by them. I claim that it is the development of this sense of
beauty, this love of truth, or goodness, for utility, which
makes science and ethics and all our life effective in the right
direction ; that unless you can convert these moral principles
which you wish to inculcate, unless you can convert them into
emotion, into a taste, a habit, a preference for, a love, a passion,
they will never be effective.

I have not yet come to the question of how you can teach
this ; nor will there be enough time to deal with this subject
exhaustively. I take it from what I read that Sir Martin
Conway quite rightly said you cannot teach taste. That is
true — and it is untrue. You cannot teach truth, you cannot
teach goodness, if you merely say it, if it merely is seen — if
it is merely understood, by the meaning of the words. They
must transpierce the heart and the character, and then they
are effective. And that is the sum of education : no more,
no less.

But how can taste be taught ? Well, surround the child

418 THE TEACHING OF TASTE

with beautiful things. If there is nobody to take it to the
museum and explain the works to it — there I differ, though,
partly from my friend Mr. Wallis — let it go there alone ;
let it run in and out as it will. Some good will come of it. I
should, of course, prefer that some one should go there and
teach the child ; but to make the surroundings of children
and parents beautiful is, as Sir Martin Conway said, pure gain.
Educate the parents, make the surroundings beautiful and
bright, that is the best way to foster good taste. Give the
children beautiful things to look at, and do not allow them
to see ugliness. I was walking through the streets as I
arrived here to-day, and I saw in the shop windows toys
for children, and I saw gollywogs, and I saw, still worse
than that, things that were called billikens. And I was
told that they are bought by the thousands. Mind you,
there is such a thing as the sense of the grotesque.
That is an aesthetic quality. I do not mean to say that a
grotesque object like a gollywog or a grotesque stupid thing
like a billiken may not in the proper surroundings, as a
contrast to beautiful things, produce a smile. But put it in
its right place. You can only afford to be grotesque when you
know what beauty is. If you begin by teaching the child
how to limp and how to crawl along grotesquely, and do
not teach it how to walk erect and normally, you are doing
it harm physically for life. But, after you have taught it
to walk and run correctly, you may allow it to dance and
hop and cut capers at times. So to give to children who
have not formed any sense of beauty these gollywogs, these
things of ugliness, to play with — which they love, I am told —
and to have in the homes of refined people on the mantel-
pieces these vulgar things which I have seen in the shops,
called billikens, cannot be elevating to the tone of people
living surrounded by such objects. I am always afraid of
exaggerating, I do not want to be too exclusive and ignore
the sense of humour, the sense of fun, which may be in-
herent in such a gollywog. I do not wish to exclude it.
I am only questioning the proportion which it holds among
the objects of play. Do not let it be the first thing. After
the child has seen beautiful things, you may let it see some
ugly things and learn to laugh at them. But I am told they
do not laugh at them, they love them more than they do
their most beautiful toys.

There are ways of producing and training taste. Besides
the direct means, standard things of beauty in literature and
art (mind you, I mean art to include music and all other
forms of beauty) must form the natural surroundings in which

THE ESTHETIC ELEMENT IN EDUCATION 419

parents live and children are brought up. That will of itself
in the end raise the standard of taste.

How little is done in this respect and how much more could
be done for the public in this country I have not time to bring
before you this evening. But less directly than by present-
ing works of art, the aesthetic attitude of mind, the satis-
faction of that desire for beauty and proportion and harmony
can be cultivated by parents, and in the schools, as a real
mental habit in every stage of activity, so that it produces an
atmosphere. In teaching the driest subjects in school,
arithmetic, sums, grammar, geography — mind, I do not
mean to exclude the development of a sense of duty and of
concentration on work, the serious side of education — the
aesthetic point of view can be profitably regarded and intro-
duced. Cultivate the intellectual pleasure in the child, give
it delight in form, in the form of sums, and the numbers that
come before it, lead it to realise the mystery of arithmetic,
the wonder that additions, subtractions, multiplications, and
divisions should come out right. Make it love such work
and see it as a work of art. Let children see how in grammar,
like fretwork, the words are strung together to give definite
meaning and to convey the deepest thoughts from one brain to
another, and make them love this form and structure. In
geography, dilate on the places and scenes and bring up a picture
before them. Besides the sense of truth, the sense of duty,
and concentration, you must give the playful attitude, the
intellectual delight which is artistic, and this means taste.

If we make our whole life beautiful and always develop
the sense of proportion we are at the bottom of right action.
Most of our mistakes, most of our sorrows — no, I am not ex-
aggerating— come from the absence of a sense of proportion.
If we can look at our own life and our own experiences in their
due proportion we shall not be saddened, and we shall not
have the whole sunlight of life shut out from our horizon.
These misfortunes and imaginative causes of disappointment
which arise, if we can only see them in their proper place,
will appear small and unimportant. If you teach the child
the proportion, the relationship, between its claims to happi-
ness and joy and the claims of others, and the proportion
which subsists in all relationships, — if you can teach this as a
matter of taste, of aesthetics, not as a matter of stern duty ;
if you can imbue the child with that attitude of mind, if you
can instil that which produces kindness and humour, and
form the power of seeing things rightly, that sense of pro-
portion, that sense of taste which never allows us to exaggerate,
you have done much towards making a good man or a good

420 MORAL EFFECTIVENESS OF TASTE

woman — at all events one with whom it is pleasant to live.
The philosopher Kant's Categorical Imperative is only
effective when it becomes a matter of taste, of natural prefer-
ence. " Act thus that thou always guardest the dignity
of thy neighbour and the dignity of thyself." This will not
be effective if merely enjoined or understood. But convert
it into taste, convert it into a feeling, make it an emotion,
a matter of art, so that the child or man or woman can see
the grotesqueness, the want of proportion, between the claims
that he or she makes upon a neighbour, and what he or she
ought to be prepared to do, and it will be effective.

The same applies to the duty to ourself. It is not merely
a matter of duty, not merely a matter of hygiene, that we
should care for our body and our soul, but it is effective when
it becomes an artistic emotion, in which we appear to our-
selves as beautiful and harmonious or ugly and deformed.
Intellectual and moral injunctions are herein not as effective
as the artistic emotion and taste. Think of what self-respect
means. Self-respect means that we compare ourselves as we
are with ourselves as we ought to be, the actual self with the
ideal self. That regard and reverence for the ideal in our-
selves make for self-respect : as we approach that ideal we
respect ourselves, as we fall short of it we despise ourselves.

Without an artistic imagination, without the sense of form,
to picture to ourselves what a life ought to be, our moral
sense will not be effective. As in a Greek statue the limbs
are all in due proportion, so ought we to hold before our
imagination perfection of body and of mind. If our physical
and moral and intellectual faculties on all sides are not duly
developed and our activities are not rounded and complete,
and if our actions will not bear the test of beauty and harmony,
if we have not that sense of right and proportion, the mere
perception of moral or intellectual laws will not help us. I.
maintain that the only effectual way, the only practical atti-
tude of life to make us act rightly, is when we have converted
these moral conceptions, these religious conceptions, into
feelings of form and beauty.

I should like to touch, and I am not afraid to do so, upon
a very delicate topic. Take sexual morality. You cannot
make it effective with the young — I defy you to do so — unless
you convert it into a taste. Religious tenets are not strong
enough to do it ; that is not the right way to do it. They
overshoot the mark. Something through which the human
race continues to exist is not in itself wrong. It only becomes
wrong when it is out of proportion, when it is out of place.
How can you make people refrain, especially the young and

THE ESTHETIC ELEMENT IN EDUCATION 421

impulsive, curb their passions and resist the strongest temp-
tations ?

I have experience of men as a teacher. As a friend among
the young, I have the right to speak. Religion does not help
them ; it is at once too wide in its injunctions and too remote.
There are individual cases in which people are thus guided.
There are rare cases in which people are directly guided by
religious injunctions in the most ordinary or lowly events of
life, but it is almost considered an aberration of mind in
actual life. I remember a touching story of one of my friends
— who became a leading politician — who told me that when
he was young religion was so directly active in him that when
he was playing in the football field he knelt down and made
believe that he was tying his bootlace in order to pray that
he might kick a goal. This sounds almost sacrilegious — the
grotesqueness of the idea that the whole course of nature
should be changed to bring him success at play. But it was
true with him, and showed how directly religion had entered
into his life. Yet it is — perhaps, fortunately — not often
present and effective to the same degree. In any case it is
not often effective in the great passions of life. It is too
remote and, moreover, it works too much through nervous
channels. Religious exaltation is not best in leading us
along the paths of sobriety. The great and violent religious
movements have often been accompanied by excesses,
because they have fed on a strong emotion. Morality alone
will not do it. "Thou shalt not " is not enough. Nor will
exaggeration, the wholesale condemnation of what is in
itself right induce it. Taste will. You teach it as good
old-fashioned nurses and good mothers unconsciously do.
They can. We can teach the child by impressing upon it :
" That is ugly." Produce disgust, and produce admiration,
and you will efficiently modify action. You tell the young
child, the young boy : "Be a strong man, and don't be a
mean sneak," and the more you succeed in producing in the
child the abhorrence, the dislike, the aesthetic disgust, of
what is wrong, and the artistic delight and admiration of
truth and goodness you have gone far towards making him
strong in a moral sense.

Let me leave the individual and turn to the wider com-
munity. The ideas of right and wrong have been prac-
tically the same from the religious and moral point of view.
What have changed are the traditions, the leading tone, the
taste of each period. Consider what the term " honour "
meant in conduct in former days and what it means now.
It has to be made an aesthetic quality; it has become a

422 INFLUENCE OF FASHION

tradition, a taste. That is why I use the word " fashion."
I mean fashion in its deeper sense ; that tone of taste in
social intercourse which is set up by what is supposed to be
the best element in each society ; and other social elements
are affected and follow. Make that fashion, instead of being
an ignoble and a low thing, make it a noble and a high thing
and you have done much to influence public morality. What
did honour mean ? Here, too, it is the public taste, the
abundant tradition — the fashion, if you like — in each place
and period which is effective in producing moral tone. In
one period it meant fighting, nothing but fighting, duel-
ling. I have friends to-day in Germany and elsewhere who
say : " What ! You in England can do without duelling ?
What do you do when, among men of honour, certain things
happen ? " Honour means a tradition, a fashion, and as such
is most effective. We need not look far back to see how
that changes. There was a time in this country when in the
best society even the leaders were habitually or frequently
drunk. This was thought the right thing : all the great
statesmen, the great men of the day, acted thus. There
was a time, not so long ago, when it was considered a very
smart thing to seduce a woman. The men who did this were
the beaux, the leaders of fashion, and the ideals of the young
men of fashion were built up on such examples. The
preachers and the moral teachers fulminated without effect.
It has gone out, thank God.

At our Universities there has been the same change in
tradition or fashion. One of my friends, the late Tom
Trollope, who was much older than I was — he died about
twenty years ago — gave me a picture of the life in my own
University in his day. Then, every man who was supposed
to be manly had to be drunk sometimes — and there were
other things about which I do not wish to speak. But they
were then " good form," and the leading young men lived
thus. That has gone by, all that has gone out, and now
" good form " is something else, I am happy to say. There
is a greater harmony between our professions and our ideas
and our actions in our Universities ; and this is due, not to
moral preaching and teaching, but to men who set up a
standard of living which has become the dominant standard.
It is good taste, " good form." Let me mention two men
who, I am proud to say, were my friends, and who helped
to establish such traditions : the late Henry Sidgwick and
the late Henry Bradshaw. We have made the right thing
fashionable, and that is the effective way to establish public
morality.

THE ^ESTHETIC ELEMENT IN EDUCATION 423

All that I have said — said, I am sorry to say, imperfectly —
is meant to show you the importance of developing taste in
the individual and in the nation. And that is done most
directly and immediately by the study of art in all its forms
and by the development of the aesthetic faculty in every
action of life ; by fostering in national life art and literature
in every form — what Matthew Arnold called " Culture."
It is the main duty of those concerned with public life to
advance the culture of the nation.

I agree with the leader-writer I read in this morning's
paper, and I agree with Mr. Lyttelton, when they maintain
that we need not decry ourselves too much in England. It
is always being said that we are such an inartistic nation. I
do not think we are. Certain periods and conditions in our
history and certain definite causes, which I could enumerate
to you, the action of narrow religious views and the suppres-
sion of all artistic instinct resulting from such traditions,
have gone far to repress the national feeling for art. But,
as a nation, we are not inartistic. If I look about me abroad
(and I have travelled a good deal) I see our people at large
standing fairly high. Where they have had a chance, in
Yorkshire and in Lancashire and in other parts, they are not
altogether inartistic. They are fond of music ; they sing a
good deal, and sing well. They understand it. The gardens
of our villages, the flowers before our labourers' cottages, all
these cannot be equalled in France or in Germany. To come
to another class, our bourgeoisie, our simple clerks in our offices
— the homes which we have in towns like Birmingham,
London, and elsewhere, the interiors, are in much better taste
than I have found the corresponding homes in France and
Germany. That is due chiefly to the efforts of a few earnest
teachers. I might single out two great men, Morris and
Ruskin. They were great fighters. They fought against
the age in which many of us were brought up — I certainly
was brought up then — by the inspiration of this younger
taste, when there was the fight against the coarseness
of what Matthew Arnold called " Philistia," the coarse-
ness resulting from our victories in the great war, after
Waterloo. Wars do not always produce elevation of the
national spirit as they did after the Persian wars of Greece.
In a country where the army is but a small portion of the
population, and the rest of the population do not go to war,
but sit at home and benefit by it, successful wars may produce
coarseness. It was also the period of the squirarchy, of the
rule of the common, coarse squire, whose only ambition was
to excel in the rural sports of that athletic age. And there

424 REFORMERS OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

was the power of the city merchant as he is portrayed by
Thackeray and by Dickens ; stupid, narrow, coarse, con-
ceited, material in his pleasures, inartistic, unintelligent,
philistine. That is the dominant note of the England that
produced the bad taste of that Early Victorian age.

And then came the great fight. The first protagonist
was Carlyle. But they were all exaggerators. Carlyle was
one-sided and exaggerated, coarse in his tone. I do not mean
to say that he was insincere ; but he was carried away by the
power of his own voice into the admiration of strength in
itself, which often meant brutality. He was narrow and
limited, but he did good service in the fight all the same.
Then followed great men and great deeds, great thinkers,
the age of Darwin, of Mill, of the Inductive Philosophy which
taught people noble sobriety and the seriousness of truth.
It refined the sense of truth by the conscientious training of
inductive methods as opposed to ready deduction and general-
isation run riot in romanticism. Then came George Eliot
and her social teaching. All fighting against the coarse spirit
of philistinism. And then came that great spirit, that great
prophet of beauty, Matthew Arnold, who extolled the ideals
of a cultured people. But he, too, was narrow and limited.
He did not see the beauty, the aesthetic side, the art- value of
science, the ennobling side of science, which has to go hand
in hand with the humanities to make a real civilisation. And
then come the two I have already mentioned, Morris and
Ruskin, and their great work of trying directly to foster and
cultivate taste and love of beauty, and to bring it into the
homes of the people. They too were narrow, were exagger-
ators. They exaggerated the importance of art itself, and
the part it is to play in the normal development of society.
They had an exaggerated respect for mediaevalism. They
were untrue in that respect : they did not show the ugliness,
the cruelty, the deformity of the Middle Ages ; the insecurity
of the life of the poor, who could not call their homes their
own, the filth of it, the narrowness of caste, the invidiousness
of the life of the guilds which they extolled and poetised.
They knew not the beauty and poetry of true science, the
good that there is in modern life with its vitality and its
broadening emancipation of all classes. They were too narrow,
too limited ; but they did much. Their influence has been
waning, and is largely spent.

I am not a pessimist. I dislike those who can only see
the darker side, and I see great brilliance ahead ; but I am
afraid we are in a bad way now, at this very moment, on a
back wave in this great flow onward. Those influences have

THE .ESTHETIC ELEMENT IN EDUCATION 425

spent themselves, and our ideals, our lives, are lower ; the
tone of our life, the tone of our society, as it is called, the
ideals of the young, of the individual and collectively, are
lower. It is the age of the financier — not even the commercial
age, not the age of the man of business whom Thackeray drew,
who had a sterling honesty in his own narrow groove. It
is the age of rapidly accumulated wealth, of the manipulation
of other people's money, of forming syndicates, not of gaining
a good competence for one's family, but of amassing huge
sums — the age of the millionaire or billionaire. The young
know that ; the women know that. And then it is an age of
mechanism, of transportation. Do not let me exaggerate.
I am delighted with all progress in transportation. I am far
from undervaluing the beneficent influence of the bicycle,
the motor car — nay, of aerial navigation in the future. But
they are a bad ideal for society as a whole to live on. If we
should succeed in going from New York to Paris and London
in a few hours, is that our ideal ? What should we find there ?
What should we go there for ? Why should we wish to go
from one place to the other so rapidly if we find nothing
there, if the life consists in the continuous expenditure of
energies to go faster — in producing more iron, more steel,
more machinery, more wealth going into single hands ? I
am not talking politics. I do not know whether I am a
Socialist or a Collectivist or an Individualist. But I ask you
what good such ideals do to you and to future ages ? Where
are our ideals of honour, honour for men, honour for women ?
What are the young taught in school ? What do I hear
boys saying : " What horse-power is your father's motor ? "
I have heard parents say : " My boy takes a wonderful
interest in mechanics; he is dreaming of nothing but
motors and machines." Machines are good things, and
those who work at them, if they work well, do well • and a
boy with a genius for mechanics should become a mechanician.
But if that is the civilisation we are going to aim at, that a
boy should dream only of getting faster from one place to
another, where is that to end ? Surely there is something
higher than this ?

Then we come to the schools and universities. We hear
of the wonderful strides that are being made in the new
universities. We are going to have schools " in touch with
all the things of life," we are going to have brewing and
leather- manufacture, and everything is to be taught in the
universities. Where is your humanity ? Where is the
taste of the nation going, where is the thought of the nation
going ? For it was the great pure science that produced

426 ENGLAND IS SHAKESPEARE

the power to invent those motor-cars and aeroplanes ; and
yet those men had no thought of gain. You do not help
a nation by that. Germany is not beating us by that. It
is beating us because with them the traditions and the love
of learning for its own sake still exist, because they still
have ideals of culture. That is why they are beating us,
and for no other reason. Our technical schools will not help
us if the man of science cannot think, if he has no imagina-
tion— (I wish I might have heard Canon Masterman's lecture) —
if the man of science has no imagination, no taste, no culture
of the mind, how can he do his work properly ? Where
are we going ? If you are going to have your schools, your
children taught, without the great classics, without great
literature (I do not mean only the literature of the Greeks
and Romans : there are other literatures, though those of
the ancient languages are still worthy of study and always
will be), where shall we get to ? People are not to be taught
French simply in order to be able to read French novels
quickly. If that is all, that will not make a great nation of us.
England is Shakespeare. That is what we are known by
and shall be known by, and none of our statesmen and
soldiers and sailors, no monarch, no man who has accumulated
wealth or contributed to the wealth of this country, stands
for England in the eyes of the world as Shakespeare does.
England is Shakespeare. The other workers on the fabric are
the hod-carriers or stonemasons, they are the foundation of
the monument, of which the pinnacle is Shakespeare. It is
our thought and our culture which make us a nation worthy
of admiration, worthy of emulation. If that goes, then we
can live like swine and die in the dust. Cultivate taste in
the young, the admiration of beautiful and noble things;
always cultivate the aesthetic element in your teaching, never
neglect it, and you will have done much to bring up healthy,
happy, and efficient children. And for the nation, — remember
that good taste, culture, is the highest asset a nation can have.

INDEX

Actions, duties to, 329-30, 336-46

Acton, Lord, 45

Adults, education of, 263

Allen, Grant, 115

Alliances, their instability, ix

Altruism, not a substance but a
force, 128-30, 225

Altruistic duties, the extreme im-
portance of, 335

Amphyctionic Council, suggested
constitution of, 157; terms of
office, 157; power of appoint-
ment, 158 ; proportional repre-
sentation, 158, 159; local
habitation, 159, 160; interna-
tional army and navy, 160,
161 ; effect on life and thought
of all nations, 161-3 ; language
difficulty, 163-7

Angell, Norman, 105

Aristocratic radicalism, 194

Aristotle, 192

Armenia, viii, ix

Arnold, Matthew, 171, 335, 339,
340

" Self-Dependence," 340

Art cannot replace religion, 350

— in national life, 276, 277

— of living, the, 18, 274-7, 369
Asia Minor, 97, 98, 100
Austria, 1, 9, 10, 56

Bacon, F., 191, 329
Bagdad Railway, the, 56, 100
Balance of power, 1
Balkan States, 1, 56, 88
Ball, Sir Robert, 248
Ballin, Herr, 12, 14
Barter favours lower standards
of honour than commerce, 282
Bavaria, King of, 97
Beer, G. L., in The Forum, 97
Belgium, viii, 69, 97, 98
Bergson, M., 292, 296
Bernhardi, xii, 12, 42, 44, 98, 149

Bismarck, Prince, xii, 46-50, 54,

68, 88, 149
Blanqui, L'Eterniti par les Astres,

185
Bluntschli, Prof., 88
Body, the cult of the, 240, 308
Brandes, G., "Aristocratic Radi-
calism," 194

— Friedrich Nietzsche, 183-6,

194-5
British Empire, the, and the

Open Door, 95, 96, 98

national sentiment in, 96

Browning, R., In a Spanish

Cloister, 70

— Instans Tyrannus, 70
Biilow, Prince, 68, 71

Butler, S., The Way of all Flesh, 206

Capital, international character
of, 105-8

— transportation of, 287, 288,
382-95

Carlyle, T., 73, 171
Castiglione, 77 Cortegiano, 280
Casuistry, moral, 258, 259
Chamberlain, Houston, Die Gund-

lagen des xix Jahrhunderts, 53
Chauvinism, what it is, 41, 63

— England's danger of contagion
from, 44, 66, 67

— Ethnological, 50-3

— in modern Germany, 41-85, 103
cause of, 64-6

— materialistic, spreading from
Germany, 64

— passages on, 357-74
Chesterfield, Lord, Letters to his

Son, 280
China, 98, 100
Chivalry, 290, 291
Christ and Plato reconciled, 327

— the teaching of, 198, 224-38
Civilisation confers no right of

conquest, 93, 94

427

428

INDEX

Civilisation, higher forms of, pre-
vail over lower, 10 1

— unity of, 142

Class-hatred in Germany, 70-2
Clifford, W. K., 171
Cohelet, 185
Commandments, the first and

second, 214-16, 224

— the third, 216, 217

— the fourth, 217-219

its inadequacy in modern

times, 217, 224
moral misapplication of, 218

— the fifth, 219-21, 226

doubts and limitations un-
just concerning, 220, 221

— the sixth to the ninth, 221, 222,

233

— the tenth, its supreme impor-
tance, 222-4

— the ten, see also Decalogue, the
Commercial honour, 281-7
Commercialism, an enemy of

individuality, 140

— growth of, in Germany, 76-8
Company promoting, 286, 289
Competition, moral and immoral,

283-7
Comte, August, 170
Concentration on the work in

hand, 336
Concession, placing a, 396-412
Conscience, 331, 332

— in regard to impersonal duties,

337
Considerateness, 274
Copyright Law, 284, 285, 288,

289
Cosmopolitanism and Patriotism,

co-ordination of, 130, 131, 137

— passage on, 375-7
Coubertin, Baron Pierre de, 81
Cramb, Prof. J. A., 44, 57
Credit system of modern com-
merce, dangers of, 283

Creeds, only those sincerely be-
lieved to be subscribed to, 352
Culture, 296-305

Darwin, Charles, 171, 187, 188
190-3, 244, 245

Dawson, W. H., What is wrong
with Germany, 45

Decalogue, the, 208-24

concerns duty to God, duty

to one's self, and duty to man-
kind, 214

embodies the idea of duty

and justice for the modern
world, 211

Decalogue, the, its greater part
already embodied in the Law,
213, 224

Decentralisation, effect of, 23-5

Deity, spiritual conception of the,
214

tainted by anthro-
pomorphism, 215

Democracy, versus Militarism, 6, 7

Denmark, 98

Dickinson, G. Lowes, Appear-
ances, Essay " Culture," 301-5

Disarmament, partial, easily
evaded, 154

— total or partial called for, 153
Discipline and obedience, 226-8

contemporary need of, 227

home life necessary for their

development, 227, 228

Disraeli, B., 90

Dogmas, only those sincerely
believed to be subscribed to, 352

Dress, 308, 309

Dreyfus case, 231, 232

Duties beyond the family, neces-
sity of progression in, 271-4

— impersonal, 328-30

— non-social, 328-30

— the extreme importance of
altruistic, 335

— to the family, 127, 128, 133,
219-21, 226-8, 266-70

— to humanity, 325-30

— to ourself, 331-5

— to the locality and community
in which we live, 272, 273

— to the State, 3 1 3-24

— to things and actions, 329, 330,
336-46

Duty of truthfulness to religious
ideas, 347

— to God, 347-354

— to make ali work perfect, 339

Education by means of recreation,
261-3

— of adults, 263

— the higher, 296, 297
Egoist, the, 228, 229

Eliot, George, 117, 118, 130, 171,

252, 309. 341-3

" Stradivarius," 341-3

Ellis, Havelock, 115

England should take warning from

the degradation of social life in

Germany, 82-5

INDEX

429

England substituted for Russia as
the primary foe by Germany, 1 2

Envy, a German national charac-
teristic, 66-73

— penetrating the world of science,

72.73
Erasmus, D., 164, 172
Ethical code of the ancient Jews

not sufficient for modern needs,

207

— education, the result of sec-
tarian teaching in schools upon,

204, 205

— example of the State in official
action, the, 263, 264

— teaching to be effective must
pass through character, 264, 265

— work by priests, the good done
by, is undeniable, 205, 206

Ethics and Law, their interaction,

212
their relation one to the

other, 211, 212
religion, the difference of

their essential mental attitudes,

201, 202

— cannot replace religion, 350

— leads to religion, 347, 350, 351

— Nietzsche's impeachment of the
existing, 193, 194

— recognition of the high position
of teachers of, 259-261

— social and political, origin of,
1 16-18

relation of, 137

— the concern of the State in, has
only been shown in social legis-
lation of a material kind, 257

— the necessarily logical literary
treatment of, opposed to emo-
tional and mystical manner
appropriate to the religious
spirit, 242, 243

— the need for the reconstruction
of, 198, 199, 239-46

— the teaching of, in schools, 204,

205, 257

— treatises on, confined to the
foundations and abstract prin-
ciples, 256

— see also Morals

Evolution, the need of conscious,
243

Family, the, 127, 128, 133, 219-

21, 226-8, 266-70
Federation of States, insufficient

to abolish war, 152, 153

Finance, 287, 288

France, 1, 8, 10, 11, 17, 18, 51, 52,

67, 69, 81, 82, 98, 142
Frederick, Emperor, 25, 26
Free Trade, 96, 98, 99
Fuchs, Dr. W., 25

Generosity to the weak, 290
Gentleman, the, 278-312
German claim to disinterested-
ness, 10

— colonies in South American
States, 101

— commercial penetration of
foreign countries, 96, 97

— emigration, 97

— expansion, 1 3

— ignorance of French and English
literature and art, 18, 19

— Imperialism, 96-8

— Kultur, 14-18, 21, 22, 48, 51,
52, 55. 93-5. 97. 98, 101, 102,
182

Nietzsche's estimate of, 182,

183

— pre-eminence in certain depart-
ments of culture, 16, 17

— streberthum, 5, 15, 21-3, 47
Germanenthum, 50-3
Germany, absence of sense of fair

play in, 65

— class hatred in, 70-2

— decline of Idealism in, 47, 49,
5o

— envy a national characteristic
of, 66-73

penetrating the world of

science in, 72, 73

— French and English Govern-
ment publications on the war
forbidden in, 19

— growth of Chauvinism in, 41,
8S. 103

reasons for, 64-6

— growth of Commercialism and
Materialism in, 76-8

— growth of Militarism in, 7, 41

— growth of money-greed in, 72,

73 ,

— modern, Nietzsche's share in

the making of, 181, 182

— moral decline of, 43

— old contrasted with the new,
xii, 21-40, 73-6

— the old, 21-40; the aristo-
cratic class of, 33, 36 ; the
artisan and labourer of, 38, 39 ;
the educational system of, 26-9 ;

430

INDEX

the men of science and learn-
ing of, 36, 37 ; the tradesmen
and shopkeepers of, 37, 38 ;
typical ruler in, 29-33

Germany, political education of
the people of, checked by Bis-
marck, 48, 49

Gilchrist Educational Trust, 247-
250

God, duty to, 347-54

Goethe, 182, 254, 255

Greek Colonies, the reaction of
their civilisation on the Mother
Country, 10 1

Haeckel, 171

Hague Tribunal, the, 142, 152

Hartmann, E. von, 170, 172, 184,

185
Hay, Colonel John, 100
Helfferich, Soziale Kultur und

Volkswohlfahrt wdhrend der

ersten 25 Regierungsjahre Wil-

helms II, 97
Holland, 98
Home life necessary for the

development of obedience and

discipline, 227, 228
Honour, barter favours lower

standardsof, than commerce, 282

— definition of, 278

— need for progressive revision
of its meaning, 279, 280

— Nietzsche has no use for it, 279

— the code of, fixed by the
dominant class, 281

— the man of, 278-82

" How I placed a Concession in
London," in Murray's Maga-
zine, 396-412

Human society, the perpendicu-
lar and horizontal divisions of,
111-14, 135, 137, 138

— solidarity, growing conscious-
ness of, 109, 1 10

Humanities, the, 291, 299-305
Humanity, Christianity supple-
ments Judaism in establishing
the central idea of, 230, 231

— duties to, 325-7
Huxley, 171, 248

Ibsen, H., 170, 172
Ibsen's teaching chiefly concerned
with the relation of the sexes,

172. 173
Idealism, decline of, in Germany,

47. 49, 50

Idealism, its relation to vanity and
self-respect, 331

Illimi table, the, predicated by limi-
tation, 348, 349

Imperfection in man predicates
perfection, 348, 349

Impersonal duties, 328-30

Improvement in working pro-
cesses, immoral to impede, 338

Individualism to be reconciled
with Socialism, 325, 326

Individuality, false conceptions of,

138, 139

— the enemies of, 140
Industries destroyed by inven-
tions of new processes, 337-9

Inequality with liberty and fra-
ternity, 327

Inge, Dean, " Patriotism " in
The Quarterly Review, 115, 144

Instincts not bad but needing
control, 240

International Court, backed by
adequate power, the only safe-
guard of peace, 153, 154; see
also Amphyctionic Council

— relations, conception of, 86-99
Internationalism, x
Inventions throw many workers

out of employment, 337-9
Italy, 1, 51, 52, 56

J' Accuse, 60-2, 97
Jansey, Vicomte de, 81
Japan, 98, 141

— sense of honour in, 281
J ebb, Sir Richard, 250

Jewish ancient ethical code not
sufficient for modern needs, 207

— religion and ritual, their effects
upon morals, 209-11

Jews, the, 52, 94, 95, 106-8
Johnson, Dr., 115
Journalists, Address to Congress
of German, 141, 142

Kant, Immanuel, 60, 122, 152, 187
Kierkegaard, 195
Kovalevsky, Prof., 252

Labour organisations, interna-
tional tendencies of, 6, 104, 105,
108

Lassalle, F., 170

Latin, its reinstatement as a
universal language, 164-7

Law and Ethics, their interaction,
212

INDEX

431

Law and Ethics, their relation one
to the other, 211, 212

— incredible to the savage that
personal or tribal conflict should
ever be superseded by, 148

Le Bon, Gustave, L'Homme et les
Societes, 185

Legislation, social, 322, 323

Lewes, G. H., 252

Liberty, Fraternity, and Inequal-
ity, 327

Liliencron, U nsurmountable Anti-
pathy, 70, 71'

Limitation predicates the illimit-
able, 348, 349

Living, the art of, 18, 274-7,

369
Love, Christianity supplements
Judaism in establishing the
central idea of, 230, 231

— the central force in man and
nature, 229, 230, 234, 235

Loyalty, a virtue in itself, often
perverted, 121

— corporate and individual, neces-
sity of continuous testing of,
125

— sectarian and partisan, 123,

319. 32°

— to the body corporate, the
abuse of, 1 20-3 1 ; the danger of
exaggerating, 122

— to the individual, the abuse of,
i2i, 127, 128

Luther, Martin, 172

Machiavelli, II Principe, 280
Maeterlinck, 171

Manners, importance of good,
291-6, 306

— M. Bergson on good, 292-6
Marx, Karl, 170, 251, 252, 254
Materialism, growth of, in Ger-
many, 76-8

Maxwell, In Cotton Wool, 228
Mazzini, 88
Meath, Lord, 227
Meredith, G., The Egoist, 228
Militarism, an enemy of indi-
viduality, 140

— defined, 41

— England's danger of con-
tagion from, 44

— in modern Germany, 7, 41

— leads to bullying, 66

— versus democracy, 6, 7
Mill, J. S., 171

Modern life, the establishment of

29

the facts and needs of, as a basis
for ethics, 243

Moltke, Field-Marshal von, 60

Money -greed, growth of, in Ger-
many, 72, 73

Moral injunctions, discrimination
between, when clashing, 258

Moral principles, Nietzsche's his-
toric criticism of, 195, 196

— sense, the, to create such and
make it effective the whole aim
of education, 226

the refinement and develop-
ment of, 234

— teaching, the absence of proper,
256

usurped by the churches,

prevented the development of
codes, 209

Morality, moral self-dependence
the standard of effective, 332-4

— the inadequacy of sectarian,
201, 203

Morals, elementary text-books of,
257

— the codification of modern,
200-7, 209, 213, 241, 256

the difficulties in the

way of, 242
the reasons why we

have not hitherto had it, 20 1, 209

— see also Ethics
Morris, William, 171

Moses, the teaching of, 198, 208-24

Mugwump, the, 321

Murray's Magazine, " How I

placed a Concession in Londoa,"

289

Napoleon I, 88, 228
Nationalism, the racial founda-
tion of, 89

— the wrong and the right, 1 32-43
Natural instincts, the following

of, leads to the dissolution of

human society, 225
Newman, Cardinal J. H., The Idea

of a University, 299, 300
Nietzsche, 98, 167, 170-99, 225,

239, 240, 243, 279

— an idealist in spite of his
opposition to idealism, 175

— Dawn of Day, 180

— Ecce Homo, 176, 178-80, 183

— his aristocratic tendency, 194,

195. 197

— his estimate of German Kultur,
182, 183

432

INDEX

Nietzsche, his historic criticism
of moral principles, 195, 196

— his impeachment of the existing
ethics, 193, 194

— his misunderstanding of Dar-
win, 187-91

— his opposition to the State, 183,
184

— his real achievement, 197

— his share in the making of
modern Germany, 181, 182

— his share in the present war,

182, 184, 185

— his superman the idealisation of
the physiological, excluding the
moral and social 176-81, 225

, the monstrosity of, 196

— his truthfulness, 174, 175, 197

— limitations of his idealism in
constructing the superman,
176-81

— the inspiration for his super-
man derived from Siegfried, 173

— the obtrusion of his own per-
sonality, 174, 178

— The Will to Power, 187

— Thoughts out of Season, 195

— Thus spake Zarathustra, 181,

183, 185, 186, 189, 190
Nippold, Prof., Der Deutsche Chaa-

vinismus, 8, 14, 25

Nobushige, Hozumi, Ancestor-wor-
ship and Japanese Law, 353

Non-social duties, 328-30

Norway, 98

Open Door, international princi-
ple of the, 96, 98, 100

Pacifist agitation out of place
during the present struggle, vii

Party politics, 318-21

Patent laws, 284, 285, 288, 289

Patriotism and Cosmopolitanism,
co-ordination of, 130, 131

— as national vanity, 102-4

— neither ethnographical nor
geographical, 1 12-14

— the duty of, 315

— the nobility of, 63, 115

— what it is, 1 1 5-19

Peace, international, a certainty

of the future, vii
Perfection predicated by man's

imperfection, 348, 349
Picturesqueness of poverty, 138,

139

Plato, 192, 242-46, 279, 330

— and Christ reconciled, 327

— as representing rational and
practical idealism, 245, 246y*

Priests, the good ethical work done

by, is undeniable, 205, 206
Pythagoras, 350

Racial unity cannot be claimed
for any nation, 89-93

Rajon, Paul, 308

Rathenau, Herr, 14

Recreation as a means of educa-
tion, 261-3

Referendum, the, 321

Religion and Ethics, the difference
of their essential mental atti-
tudes, 201, 202

— cannot be replaced by Ethics,
Science, or Art, 350

Religions, inherent opposition to

change in all, 202, 204
Religious emotions, how and

where to cultivate, 353

— feelings, emotional and aesthetic
education of, 351

— ideals, duty of truthfulness to,

347. 349
Renaissance of Italy, 102
Renan, Ernest, 134-6, 140, 171
Reptilienfond, the, 54-7
Roosevelt, President, 141
Ruskin, John, 115, 139, 140, 171,

174
Russia, 1, 8-13, 53, 56, 91, 100
Russian literature and art, 15, 16

Schiemann, Prof., 19

Schiller, 122

Schopenhauer, 170, 172, 183, 187

Schweninger, Dr., 50

Science cannot replace religion,
35o

Sectarian teaching in schools, its
results upon ethical education,
204, 205

Self, duties to, 331-5

Self-dependence, moral, as stan-
dard of effective morality, 332-4

Self-respect, its relation to vanity
and idealism, 331

Self-sacrifice in war, 58

Serbia, 9, 10

Sermon on the Mount, the, 232,
238

aimed at a reforma-
tion needed at the time it was
spoken, 241

INDEX

433

Sermon on the Mount, the, as an
advance on Mosaic law implies
the need of further advances
as conditions change, 241

influenced by the con-
gregation to whom it was ad-
dressed, 235, 236

intended to supple-
ment the commandments, 232

parts of, at variance

with modern ethics, 239, 240

Slav and Teuton, 10, 11, 52

— claims paramount in the Bal-
kans, 13

Social legislation, 322, 323

— life, degeneration of, in Ger-
many, 79-81

— reforms, the negative char-
acter of, 168-72

— responsibility, 276
Socialism, an enemy of individu-
ality, 140

— to be reconciled with individu-
alism, 325, 326

Society respects wealth without

considering how it is got, 287
South American Republics, 96-8,

101
Specialist, the, 297, 298
Speculation in modern commerce,

dangers of, 283
Spencer, Herbert, 171, 188
Sports and Pastimes productive

of the sense of fair play, 276
State, conceptions of the, 86-99,

"4. 313

— dishonesty towardsthe, 316,317

— duties to the, 313-24

— duties to, compared with those
to the family, 133

— in official actions, the ethical
example of the, 263, 264

— interrelations between the,
and the moral consciousness of
its citizens, 313

— justification of the existence of
the, 132

— moral and social ideas of the,
136

— Nietzsche's opposition to the,
182, 183

— obedience to the, 315, 316

— subventions, 42

— the, and Ethics, 257

— the, as a soul, a spiritual prin-
ciple, 134

— the, confers distinction on even
ill-gotten wealth, 287

State, the, its constitution and
laws, 136

— the, its duty to alleviate the
suffering of workers in industries
destroyed by new inventions,
338. 339

— the, its problem to reconcile
Socialism with Individualism,
32S. 326

— the, not an entity apart from
and above the people, 87

— the practical reality of the
ideals of the, 323

— the, the national or social idea
a compromise, 88

States, federation of, insufficient
to abolish war, 152, 153

— there is no constraining power
to enforce equity between, 146

Stock Exchange, the, 285, 286
Strauss, 171

Superman, the forerunner of the,
190

— the, how produced ? 190-3

— the, the idealisation of the
physiological to the exclusion
of the moral and social, 176-81

Sweden, 98
Switzerland, 98

Sympathy, not a substance but
a force, 128-30

Tact, 291

Tennyson, Lord, 130

Teuton and Slav, 10, 11

Things, duties to, 329, 330, 336-46

Tolstoy, 170

Treitschke, 42, 44-6, 88, 98, 150,

182, 183
Turkey, viii, 1, 56

United States, the, ix-xi, 19, 100,
101

opportunity to protest

against violation of inter-
national law missed by, xi

Unity of civilisation, 142

Universities, the, 297-305

Voting, wrong to abstain from, 318
Vanity, its relation to self-respect
and idealism, 331

Wagner, R., 170, 172-4, 183, 228

Waldstein, C, Address to Congress

of German Journalists, 141, 142

— " The ^Esthetic Element in the
Education of the Individual

434

INDEX

and of the Nation," address
as reported in The Parents'
Review, 413-26
Waldstein, C. , The Balance of Emo-
tion and Intellect, 226

— Cui Bono ? 343-6

— " England and Germany," in
The Times, 368-70

— The Expansion of Western
Ideals, 154-7, 356-66

— " The Ideal of a University,"
in North American Review, 208

— The Jewish Question and the
Mission to the Jews, 94, 95,
106-8, 135, 271, 278, 309-11,
367, 368,' 370-4

— " Origin of Nihilism and Pes-
simism in Germany," in Nine-
teenth Century, 73-6

— Specialisation, a Morbid Ten-
dency of the A ge, 297

— The Political Confessions of a
Practical Idealist, 287, 382-95

— The Works of John Ruskin,

139. 140

— " The World's Changes in the
Past Thirty Years," in the New
York Times, 378-81

War and the duel, 145, 146, 149-51

— in civilised opinion an ab-
surdity, 2

War neither a physiological,
moral, nor social necessity, 145

— prospect of, in 191-1, 5

— survival of the unfittest in,

144. 145

— that some good springs from
it admitted, 58

— the cure of the disease of, 152-

67

— the disease of, 144-51

— the glorification of, 57-62

— the paradox of, 142, 143

— the unjustness of, 145, 146

— the present, combatants often
of the same race, 112, 113

French and English

Government publications on,
forbidden in Germany, 19

Germany fixes the most

favourable date for, 8, 9

its cause, 1

neither England, France,

nor Russia the primary aggres-
sor, 9, 10

— Nietzsche's share in, 182,

184, 185

Wealth, society and the State
confer distinction on even ill-
gotten, 287

Will to power, the, 186, 187

Work, concentration in, 336

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