'^:i THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES ARDEN H. BRAME, JR. HERPETOLOGICAL LIBRARY COLLECTED ESSAYS By T. H. HUXLEY VOLUME IX EVOLUTION & ETHICS AND OTHER ESSAYS THOMAS H. HUXLEY EonJion MACMILLAN AND CO. 1894 Richard Clay and Sons, Limited, london axd bungay. PREFACE The discourse on "Evolution and Ethics," re- printed in the first half of the present volume, was delivered before the University of Oxford, as the second of the annual lectures founded by Mr. Romanes : whose name I may not write without deploring the untimely death, in the flower of his age, of a friend endeared to me, as to so many others, by his kindly nature ; and justly valued by all his colleagues for his powers of investigation and his zeal for the advancement of knowledge. I well remember, when Mr. Romanes' early work came into my hands, as one of the secretaries of the Royal Society, how much I rejoiced in the accession to the ranks of the little army of workers in science of a recruit so well qualified to take a high place among us. It was at my friend's urgent request that I agreed to undertake the lecture, should I be honoured with an official proposal to give it, though I confess not without misgivings, if only on VI PREFACE account of the serious fatigue and hoarseness which pubhc speaking has for some years caused me ; while I knew that it wouki be my fate to follow the most accomplished and facile orator of our time, whose indomitable youth is in no matter more manifest than in his penetrating and musi- cal voice. A certain sapng about comparisons intruded itself somewhat importunately. And even if I disregarded the weakness of my body in the matter of voice, and that of my mind in the matter of vanity, there remained a third difficulty. For several reasons, my attention, during a number of years, has been much directed to the bearing of modern scientific thought on the problems of morals and of politics, and I did not care to be diverted from that topic. Moreover, I thought it the most important and the worthiest which, at the present time, could engage the atten- tion even of an ancient and renowned University. But it is a condition of the Romanes foundation that the lecturer shall abstain from treating of either Religion or Politics ; and it appeared to me that, more than most, perhaps, I was bound to act, not merely up to the letter, but in the spirit, of that prohibition. Yet Ethical Science is, on all sides, so entancrled with Relioion and Politics, that the lecturer who essays to touch the former without coming into contact with either of the latter, needs all the dexterity of an egg-dancer ; and may even discover that his sense of clearness PREFACE vii and his sense of propriety come into conflict, by no means to the advantage of the former. I had little notion of the real magnitude of these difficulties when I set about my task ; but I am consoled for my pains and anxiety by observing that none of the multitudinous criticisms with which I have been favoured and, often, instructed, find fault with me on the score of having strayed out of bounds. Among my critics there are not a few to whom I feel deeply indebted for the careful attention which they have given to the exposition thus hampered ; and further weakened, I am afraid, by my forgetfulness of a maxim touching lectures of a popular character, which has descended to me from that prince of lecturers, Mr. Faraday. He was once asked by a beginner, called upon to address a highly select and cultivated audience, what he might suppose his hearers to know already. Whereupon the past master of the art of exposition emphatically replied " Nothing ! " To my shame as a retired veteran, who has all his life profited by this great precept of lec- turing strategy, I forgot all about it just when it would have been most useful. I was fatuous enough to imagine that a number of propositions, which I thought established, and which, in fact, I had advanced without challenge on former oc- casions, needed no repetition. I have 'endeavoured to repair my error by VIU PREFACE prefacing the lecture with some matter — chiefly elementary or recapitulatory — to which I have given the title of " Prolegomena." I wish I could have hit upon a heading of less pedantic aspect which would have served my purpose ; and if it be urged that the new building looks over large for the edifice to which it is added, I can only plead the precedent of the ancient architects, who always made the adytum the smallest part of the temple. If I had attempted to reply in full to the criticisms to which I have referred, I know not what extent of ground would have been covered by my pronaos. All I have endeavoured to do, at present, is to remove that which seems to have proved a stumbling-block to many — namely, the apparent paradox that ethical nature, while born of cosmic nature, is necessarily at enmity with its parent. Unless the arguments set forth in the Prolegomena, in the simplest language at my command, have some flaw which I am unable to discern, this seeming paradox is a truth, as great as it is plain, the recognition of which is fundamental for the ethical philosojDher. We cannot do without our inheritance from the forefathers who were the puppets of the cosmic process ; the society which renounces it must be destroyed from without. Still less can we do with too much of it ; the society in which it dominates must be destroyed from within. PREFACE IX The motive of the drama of human life is the necessity, laid upon every man who comes into the world, of discovering the mean between self-assertion and self-restraint suited to his character and his circumstances. And the eter- nally tragic asj)ect of the drama lies in this : that the problem set before us is one the ele- ments of which can be but imperfectly known, and of which even an approximately right solution rarely presents itself, until that stern critic, aged experience, has been furnished with ample justifi- cation for venting his sarcastic humour upon the irreparable blunders we have already made. I have reprinted the letters on the " Darkest England " scheme, published in the " Times " of December 1890 and January 1891 ; and subse- quently issued,with additions, as a pamphlet, under the title of" Social Diseases and Worse Remedies; " because, although the clever attempt to rush the country on behalf of that scheme has been balked, Mr. Booth's standing army remains afoot, retaining all the capacities for mischief which are inherent in its constitution. I am desirous that this fact should be kept steadily in view ; and that the moderation of the clamour of the drums and trumpets should not lead us to forget the existence of a force, which, in bad hands, may, at any time, be used for bad purposes. In 1892, a Committee was " formed for the pur- X PREFACE pose of investigating the manner in wliicli the moneys, subscribed in response to the appeal made in the book entitled ' In Darkest England and the Way out/ have been expended." The members of this body were gentlemen in whose competency and equity every one must have complete con- fidence ; and in December 1892 they published a report in which they declare that, " with the exception of the sums expended on the ' barracks ' at Hadleigh," the moneys in question have been " devoted only to the objects and expended in the methods set out in that appeal, and to and in no others." Nevertheless, their final conclusion runs as follows : " (4) That whilst the invested property, real and personal, resulting from such Appeal is so vested and controlled by the Trust of the Deed of January 30th, 1891, that any application of it to purposes other than those declared in the deed by any * General ' of the Salvation Army would amount to a breach of trust, and would subject him to the proceedings of a civil and criminal character, before mentioned in the Report, adcqiiatc legal safeguards do not at present exist to prevent the niisapptlication of such property." The passage I have italicised forms part of a document dated December 19th, 1892. It follows, that, even after the Deed of January 30th, 1891, was executed, " adequate legal safeguards " " to prevent the misapplication of the property " did PREFACE XI not exist. What then was the state of things, up to a week earlier, that is on January 22nd, 1891, when my twelfth and last letter appeared in the " Times " ? A better justification for what I have said about the want of adequate security for the proper administration of the funds intrusted to Mr. Booth could not be desired, unless it be that which is to be found in the following passages of the Report (pp. 36 and 37) :— " It is possible that a ' General ' may be forget- ful of his duty, and sell property and appropriate the proceeds to his own use, or to meeting the general liabilities of the Salvation Army. As matters now stand, he, and he alone, would have control over such a sale. Against such possibilities it appears to the Committee to be reasonable that some check should be imposed." Once more let it be remembered that this opinion, given under the hand of Sir Henry James, was expressed by the Committee, with the Trust Deed of 1891, which has been so sedulously flaunted before the public, in full view. The Committee made a suggestion for the improvement of this very unsatisfactory state of things ; but the exact value set upon it by the suggestors should be carefully considered (p. 37). " The Committee are fully aware that if the views thus expressed are carried out, the safe- guards and checks created will not be sufficient for all purposes absolutely to prevent possible XU PREFACE dealing with the property and moneys, inconsistent with the purposes to which they are intended to be devoted." In fact, they are content to express the very modest hope that " if the suggestion made be acted upon, some hindrance will thereby be placed in the way of any one acting dishonestly in respect of the disposal of the property and moneys referred to." I do not know, and, under the circumstances, I cannot say I much care, whether the suggestions of the Committee have, or have not, been acted upon. Whether or not, the fact remains, that an unscrupulous " General " will have a pretty free hand, notwithstanding " some " hindrance. Thus, the judgment of the highly authoritative, and certainly not hostile. Committee of 1892, upon the issues with which they concerned them- selves is hardly such as to inspire enthusiastic confidence. And it is further to be borne in mind that they carefully excluded from their duties " any examination of the principles, govern- ment, teaching, or methods of the Salvation Army as a religious organisation, or of its affairs" except so far as they related to the administration of the moneys collected by the " Darkest England " appeal. Consequently, the most important questions discussed in my letters were not in any way touched by the Committee. Even if their report PREFACE Xlll had been far more favourable to the " Darkest England " scheme than it is ; if it had really assured the contributors that the funds raised were fully secured against malversation ; the objections, on social and political grounds, to Mr. Booth's despotic organization, with its thousands of docile satellites pledged to blind obedience, set forth in the letters, would be in no degree weakened. The " sixpennyworth of good " would still be outweighed by the " shilling'sworth of harm " ; if indeed the relative worth, or unworth, of the latter should not be rated in pounds rather than in shillings. What would one not give for the opinion of the financial members of the Committee about the famous Bank ; and that of the legal experts about the proposed " tribunes of the people " ? HoDESLEA, Eastbourne, July 1894. CONTENTS I PAGE EVOLUTION AND ETHICS. PROLEGOMENA [1894] .... 1 n EVOLUTION AND ETHICS [1893] 46 III SCIENCE AND MORALS [1886] 117 IV CAPITAL— THE MOTHER OF LABOUR [1890] 147 V SOCIAL DISEASES AND WORSE REMEDIES [1891] 188 Preface 188 The Struggle for Existence in Human Society .... 195 Letters to the Times 237 Legal Opinions 312 The Articles of War of the Salvation Army 321 I EVOLUTION AND ETHICS PROLEGOMENA [1894] I It may be safely assumed that, two thousand years ago, before Caesar set foot in southern Britain, the whole country-side visible from the windows of the room in which I write, was in what is called " the state of nature." Except, it may be, by raising a few sepulchral mounds, such as those which still, here and there, break the flowing contours of the downs, man's hands had made no mark upon it ; and the thin veil of vegetation which overspread the broad-backed heights and the shelving sides of the coombs was unaffected by his industry. The native grasses and weeds, the scattered patches of gorse, contended with one another for the possession of the scanty surface soil ; they fought against the droughts of summer, VOL. IX g£ B 2 EVOLUTION AND ETHICS I the frosts of winter, and the furious gales which swept, with unbroken force, now from the Atlantic, and now from the North Sea, at all times of the year ; they filled up, as they best might, the gaps made in their ranks by all sorts of underground and overground animal ravagers. One year with another, an average population, the floating balance of the unceasing struggle for existence among the indigenous plants, maintained itself. It is as little to be doubted, that an essentially similar state of nature prevailed, in this region, for many thousand years before the coming of Caesar ; and there is no assignable reason for denying that it might continue to exist through an equally pro- longed futurity, except for the intervention of man. Reckoned by our customary standards of duration, the native vegetation, like the " ever- lasting hills " which it clothes, seems a type of permanence. The little Amarella Gentians, which abound in some places to-day, are the descendants of those that were trodden underfoot by the pre- historic savages who have left their flint' tools about, here and there ; and they followed ancestors which, in the climate of the glacial epoch, probably flourished better than they do now. Compared with the long past of this humble plant, all the history of civilized men is but an episode. Yet nothing is more certain than that, measured by the liberal scale of time-keeping of the universe, this present state of nature, however it may seem I PKOLEGOMENA ^ to have gone and to go on for ever, is but a fleeting phase of her infinite variety ; merely the last of the series of changes which the earth's sur- face has undergone in the course of the millions of years of its existence. Turn back a square foot of the thin turf, and the solid foundation of the land, exposed in cHffs of chalk five hundred feet high on the adjacent shore, yields full assurance of a time when the sea covered the site of the " everlasting hills " ; and when the vegetation of what land lay nearest, was as different from the present Flora of the Sussex downs, as that of Central Africa now is.^ No less certain is it that, between the time durino- which the chalk was formed and that at which the original turf came into existence, thousands of centuries elapsed, in the course of which, the state of nature of the ages during which the chalk was deposited, passed into that which now is, by changes so slow that, in the coming and going of the generations of men, had such witnessed them, the contemporary conditions would have seemed to be unchanging and unchangeable. But it is also certain that, before the deposition of the chalk, a vastly longer period had elapsed, throughout which it is easy to follow the traces of the same process of ceaseless modification and of the internecine struggle for existence of living things ; and that even when we can get no further ^ See "On apiece of Chalk" in the preceding volume of these Essays (vol. viii. p. 1). B 2 4} EVOLUTION AND ETHICS t back, it is not because there is any reason to think we have reached the beginning, but because the trail of tlie most ancient hfe remains liidden, or has become obhterated. Thus that state of nature of the world of plants, which we began by considering, is far from possess- ing the attribute of permanence. Rather its very essence is impermanence. It may have lasted twenty or thirty thousand years, it may last for twenty or thirty thousand years more, Avithout obvious change ; but, as surely as it has followed upon a very different state, so it will be followed by an equally different condition. That which endures is not one or another association of living forms, but the process of which the cosmos is the product, and of which these are among the transi- tory expressions. And in the living world, one of the most characteristic features of this cosmic pro- cess is the struggle for existence, the competition of each with all, the result of which is the selection, that is to say, the survival of those forms which, on the whole, are best adapted to the conditions which at any period obtain ; and which are, there- fore, in that respect, and only in that respect, the fittest.^ The acme reached by the cosmic process ^ That every theory of evolution must be consistent not merely with progressive development, but with indefinite persistence in the same condition and with retrogressive modifi- cation, is a point which I have insisted upon repeatedly from the year 1862 till now. See CoUecfcd Essays, vol. ii. pp. 461-89 ; vol. iii. 11. 33 ; vol. viii. p. 304. In the address on "Geological I PROLEGOMENA 5 in tlie vegetation of the downs is seen in the turf, with its weeds and gorse. Under the con- ditions, they have come out of the struggle victorious ; and, by surviving, have proved that they are the fittest to survive. That the state of nature, at any time, is a temporary phase of a process of incessant change, wliich has been going on for innumerable ages, appears to me to be a proposition as well estab- lished as any in modern history. Paleontology assures us, in addition, that the ancient philo- sophers who, with less reason, held the same doctrine, erred in supposing that the phases formed a cycle, exactly repeating the past, exactly foreshadowing the future, in their rotations. On the contrary, it furnishes us with conclusive reasons for thinking that, if every link in the ancestry of these humble indigenous plants had been preserved and were accessible to us, the whole would present a converging series of forms of gradually diminishing complexity, until, at some period in the history of the earth, far more remote than any of which organic remains have yet been discovered, they would merge in those low groups among which the boundaries between animal and vegetable life become effaced.^ Contemporaneity and Persistent Types" (1862), the paleonto- logical proofs of this proposition were, I lielieve, first set forth. ^ '•'On the Border Territory between the Animal and the Vegetable Kingdoms," Essays, vol. viii. p. 162. 6 EVOLUTION AND ETHICS i The word '' evolution," now generally applied to the cosmic process, has had a singular histor} , and is used in various senses.^ Taken in its popular signification it means progressive development, that is, gradual change from a condition of relative uniformity to one of relative complexity ; but its connotation has been widened to include the phenomena of retrogressive metamorphosis, that is, of progress from a condition of relative complexity to one of relative uniformity. As a natural process, of the same character as the development of a tree from its seed, or of a fowl from its egg, evolution excludes creation and all other kinds of supernatural intervention. As the expression of a fixed order, every stage of which is the effect of causes ojDerating according to definite rules, the conception of evolution no less excludes that of chance. It is very desirable to remember that evolution is not an explanation of the cosmic process, but merely a generalized statement of the method and results of that pro- cess. And, further, that, if there is proof that the cosmic process was set going by any agent, then that agent will be the creator of it and of all its products, although supernatural intervention may remain strictly excluded from its further course. So far as that limited revelation of the nature of things, which we call scientific knowledge, has ^ See "Evolution in Biology," Essays, vol. ii. p. 187. I PROLEGOMENA 7 yet gone, it tends, with constantly increasing emphasis, to the belief that, not merely the world of plants, but that of animals ; not merely living things, but the whole fabric of the earth ; not merely our planet, but the whole solar system ; not merely our star and its satellites, but the millions of similar bodies which bear witness to the order which pervades boundless space, and has endured through boundless time ; are all working out their predestined courses of evolution. With none of these have I anything to do, at present, except with that exhibited by the forms of life which tenant the earth. All plants and animals exhibit the tendency to vary, the causes of which have yet to be ascertained ; it is the tendency of the conditions of life, at any given time, while favouring the existence of the varia- tions best adapted to them, to oppose that of the rest and thus to exercise selection ; and all living things tend to multiply without limit, while the means of support are limited ; the obvious cause of which is the production of offspring more numerous than their progenitors, but with equal expectation of life in the actuarial sense. Without the first tendency there could be no evolution. Without the second, there would be no good reason why one variation should disappear and another take its place ; that is to say, there would be no selection. Without the 8 EVOL LOTION AND ETHICS i third, the struggle for existence, the agent of the selective process in the state of nature, would vanish.^ Granting the existence of these tendencies, all the known facts of the history of plants and of animals may be brought into rational correlation. And this is more than can be said for any other hypothesis that I know of Such hypotheses, for example, as that of the existence of a primitive, orderless chaos ; of a passive and sluggish eternal matter moulded, with but jmrtial success, by archetypal ideas ; of a brand-new world-stuff suddenly created and swiftly shaped by a super- natural power; receive no encouragement, but the contrary, from our present knowledge. That our earth may once have formed part of a nebu- lous cosmic magma is certainly possible, indeed seems highly probable ; but there is no reason to doubt that order reigned there, as completely as amidst what we regard as the most finished works of nature or of man.- The faith which is born of knowledge, finds its object in an eternal order, bringing forth ceaseless change, through end- less time, in endless space ; the manifesta- tions of the cosmic energy alternating between phases of potentiality and phases of explication. It may be that, as Kant suggests,^ every cosmic xssim. ^ Collected Essays, vol. ii. paf.. - Ibid., vol. iv, p. 138 ; vol, v. pp. 71-73. 3 Ibid., vol. viii. p. 321. I PROLEGOMENA 9 magma predestined to evolve into a new world, has been the no less predestined end of a van- ished predecessor. II Three or four years have elapsed since the state of nature, to which I have referred, was brought to an end, so far as a small patch of the soil is concerned, by the intervention of man. The patch was cut off from the rest by a wall ; within the area thus protected, the native vegetation was, as far as possible, extirpated ; while a colony of strange plants was imported and set down in its place. In short, it was made into a garden. At the present time, this artificially treated area presents an aspect extraordinarily different from that of so much of the land as remains in the state of nature, outside the wall. Trees, shrubs, and herbs, many of them appertaining to the state of nature of remote parts of the globe, abound and flourish. Moreover, considerable quantities of vegetables, fruits, and flowers are produced, of kinds which neither now exist, nor have ever existed, except under conditions such as obtain in the garden ; and which, therefore, are as much works of the art of man as the frames and glass-houses in which some of them are raised. That the "state of Art," thus created in the state of nature by man, is sustained by and dependent on him, would at once become 10 EVOLUTIOX AND ETHICS i apparent, if the watchful supervision of the gar- dener were withdrawn, and the antagonistic influ- ences of the general cosmic process were no longer sedulously warded off, or counteracted. The walls and gates would decay ; quadrupedal and bipedal intruders would devour and tread down the useful and beautiful plants; birds, insects, blight, and mildew would work their will ; the seeds of the native plants, carried by winds or other agencies, would immigrate, and in virtue of their long- earned special adaptation to the local conditions, these despised native weeds would soon choke their choice exotic rivals. A century or two hence, little beyond the foundations of the wall and of the houses and frames would be left, in evidence of the victory of the cosmic powers at work in the state of nature, over the temporary obstacles to their suioremacy, set up by the art of the horticulturist. It will be admitted that the garden is as much a work of art,^ or artifice, as anything that can be mentioned. The energy localised in certain human bodies, directed by similarly localised intellects, has produced a collocation of other material bodies which could not be brought about in the state of nature. The same proposition is true of all the 1 The . rj/xoyv rj ^v^rj. So far as the testimony for the universality of what ordinary people call ' evil ' goes, there is nothing better than the writings of the Stoics themselves. They might serve as a storehouse for the epigrams of the ultra-pessimists. Heracleitus {circa 500 B.C.) says just as hard things about ordinary humanity as his disciples centuries later ; and there really seems no need to seek for the causes of this dark view of life in the circumstances of the time of Alexander's successors or of the early Emperors of Home. To the man with an ethical ideal, the world, including himself, will always seem full of evil. Note 14 (p. 73). I use the well-known phrase, but decline respon- sibility for the libel upon Epicurus, whose doctrines were far less compatible with existence in a stye II NOTES 111 than those of the Cynics. If it were steadily borne in mind that the conception of the ' flesh ' as tlie source of evil, and the great saying ' Initium est salutis notitia peccati,' are the property of Epicurus, fewer illusions about Epicureanism would pass muster for accepted truth. iVo^e 15 (p. 75). The Stoics said that man was a ^wov XoyLKov ttoXltlkov (fiiXdWrjXov, or a rational, a political, and an altruistic or philanthropic animal. In their view, his higher nature tended to develop in these three directions^ as a plant tends to grow up into its typical form. Since, without the introduction of any consideration of pleasure or pain, whatever thwarted the realization of its type by the plant might be said to be bad, and whatever helped it good ; so virtue, in the Stoical sense, as the conduct which tended to the attainment of the rational, political, and philanthropic ideal, was good in itself, and irrespectively of its emotional concomitants. Man is an " animal sociale communi bono genitum." The safety of society depends upon practical recog- nition of the fact. " Salva autem esse societas nisi custodia et amore partium non possit," says Seneca. (De. Ira, ii. 31.) ^^ote 16 (p. 75). The importance of the physical doctrine of the Stoics lies in its clear recognition of the universality 112 EVOLUTION AND ETHICS n of the law of causation, with its corollary, the order of nature : the exact form of that order is an altogether secondary consideration. Many ingenious persons now appear to consider that the incompatibility of pantheism, of materialism, and of any doubt about the immortality of the soul, with religion and morality, is to be held as an axiomatic truth. I confess that I have a certain difficulty in accepting this dogma. For the Stoics were notoriously materialists and pantheists of the most extreme character ; and while no strict Stoic believed in the eternal duration of the individual soul, some even denied its persistence after death. Yet it is equally certain that of all gentile philosophies, Stoicism exhibits the highest ethical development, is animated by the most religious spirit, and has exerted the profoundest influence upon the moral and religious development not merely of the best men among the Komans, but among the moderns down to our own day. Seneca was claimed as a Christian and placed among the saints by the fathers of the early Christian Church ; and the genuineness of a correspondence between him and the apostle Paul has been hotly maintained in our own time, by orthodox writers. That the letters, as we possess them, are worthless forgeries is obvious ; and writers as wide apart as Baur and Lightfoot agree that the whole story is devoid of foundation. The dissertation of the late Bishop of Durham {Epistle to the Philippians) is particularly worthy of study, apart from this question, on account of the II NOTES 1J3 evidence which it supplies of the nnmeroiis similarities of thought between Seneca and the writer of the Pauline epistles. When it is remembered that the writer of the Acts puts a quotation from Aratus, or Cleanthes, into tlie mouth of the apostle ; and that Tarsus was a great seat of philosophical and especially stoical learning (Chrysippus himself was a native of the adjacent town of Soli), there is no difficulty in understanding the origin of these resemblances. See, on this subject, Sir Alexander Grant's dissertation in his edition of The Ethics of Aristotle (where there is an interesting reference to the stoical character of Bishop Butler's ethics), the concluding pages of Dr. Weygoldt's instructive little work Die Philosophie der Stoa, and Aubertin's Seneque et Saint Paul. It is surprising that a writer of Dr. Lightfoot's stamp should speak of Stoicism as a philosophy of ' despair.' Surely, rather, it was a philosophy of men who, having cast oif all illusions, and the childish- ness of despair among them, were minded to endure in patience whatever conditions the cosmic process might create, so long as those conditions were com- patible with the progress towards virtue, which alone, for them, conferred a worthy object on existence. There is no note of despair in the stoical declaration that the perfected * wise man ' is the equal of Zeus in everything but the duration of his existence. And, in my judgment, there is as little pride about it, often as it serves for the text of discourses on stoical arrogance. Grant the stoical postulate that there is no good except virtue ; grant that the per- VOL. IK I 114 EVOLUTION AND ETHICS ii fected wise man is altogether virtuous, in consequence of being guided in all things by the reason, which is an effluence of Zeus, and there seems no escape from the stoical conclusion. Note 17 (p. 76). Our "Apathy" carries such a different set of connotations from its Greek original that I have ventured on using the latter as a technical term. Note 18 (p. 77). Many of the stoical philosophers recommended their disciples to take an active share in public affairs ; and in the Roman world, for several centuries, the best public men were strongly inclined to Stoicism. Nevertheless, the logical tendency of Stoicism seems to me to be fulfilled only in such men as Diogenes and Epictetus. Note 19 (p. 80). "Criticisms on the Origin of Species," 1864. Collected Essays, vol. ii. p. 91. [1894.] Note 20 (p. 81). Of course, strictly speaking, social life, and the ethical process in virtue of which it advances towards perfection, are part and parcel of the general process of evolution, just as tlie gregarious habit of in- II NOTES 115 numerable plants and animals, which has been of immense advantage to them, is so. A hive of bees is an organic polity, a society in which the part played by each member is determined by organic necessities. Queens, workers, and drones are, so to speak, castes, divided from one another by marked physical barriers. Among birds and mammals, societies are formed, of which the bond in many cases seems to be purely psychological ; that is to say, it appears to depend upon the liking of the individuals for one another's company. The tendency of individuals to over self-assertion is kept down by fighting. Even in these rudimentary forms of society, love and fear come into play, and enforce a greater or less renunciation of self-will. To this extent the general cosmic process begins to be checked by a rudi- mentary ethical process, which is, strictly speaking, part of the former, just as the ' governor ' in a steam- engine is part of the mechanism of the engine. JVote 21 (p. 82). See " Government : Anarchy or Regimentation, '* Collected Essays, vol. i. pp. 413 — 418. It is this form of political philosophy to which I conceive the epithet of ' reasoned savagery ' to be strictly applicable. [1894.] Note 22 (p. 83). " L'homme n'est qu'un roseau, le plus faible de la nature, mais c'est un roseau pensant. 11 ne faut I 2 116 EVOLUTION AND ETHICS ii pas que runivers entier s'arme pour I'ecraser. Une vapeur, une goutte d'eau, suffit pour le tuer. Mais quand I'univers I'ecraserait, riionime serait encore plus noble que ce qui le tue, parce qu'il sait qu'il meurt ; et I'avantage que I'univers a sur lui, I'univers n'en sait rien." — Pensees de Pascal. Note 23 (p. 85). The use of the word " Nature " here may be criti- cised. Yet the manifestation of the natural tendencies of men is so profoundly modified by training that it is hardly too strong. Consider the suppression of the sexual instinct between near relations. Note 24 (p. 86). A great proportion of poetry is addressed by the young to the young ; only the great masters of the art are capable of divining, or think it worth while to enter into, the feelings of retrospective age. The two great poets whom we have so lately lost, Tennyson and Browning, have done this, each in his own inimitable way ; the one in the Ulysses, from wliich I have borrowed ; the other in that wondei-ful fragment ' Childe Eoland to the dark Tower came.' Ill SCIENCE AND MORALS [1886] In spite of long and, perhaps, not unjustifiable hesitation, I begin to think that there must be something in telepathy. For evidence, which I may not disregard, is furnished by the last number of the " Fortnightly Review " that among the hitherto undiscovered endowments of the human species, there may be a power even more wonder- ful than the mystic faculty by which the esoteric- ally Buddhistic sage " upon the farthest mountain in Cathay " reads the inmost thoughts of a dweller within the homely circuit of the London postal district. Great indeed is the insight of such a seer ; but how much greater is his who combines the feat of reading, not merely the thoughts of which the thinker is aware, but those of which he knows nothing ; who sees him unconsciously drawing the conclusions which he repudiates and 118 SCIENCE AND MORALS m supporting the doctrines which he detests. To reflect upon the confusion which the working of such a power as this may introduce into one's ideas of personahty and responsibiUty is perilous — madness lies that way. But truth is truth, and I am almost fain to believe in this magical visibi- lity of the non-existent when the only alternative is the supposition that the writer of the article on " Materialism and Morality" in vol. xl. (1886) of the " Fortnightly Review," in spite of his manifest ability and honesty, has pledged himself, so far as I am concerned, to what, if I may trust my own knowledge of my own thoughts, must be called a multitude of errors of the first magnitude. I so much admire Mr. Lilly's outspokenness, I am so completely satisfied with the uprightness of his intentions, that it is repugnant to me to quarrel with anything he may say ; and I sympa- thise so warmly with his manly scorn of the vileness of much that passes under the name of literature in these times, that I would willingly be silent under his by no means unkindly exposition of his theory of my own tenets, if I thought that such j)ersonal abnegation would serve the interest of the cause we both have at heart. But I cannot think so. My creed may be an ill-favoured thing, but it is mine own, as Touchstone says of his lady- love ; and I have so high an opinion of the solid virtues of the object of my affections that I cannot calmly see her personated by a wench who is much Ill SCIENCE AND MORALS 119 Uglier and has no virtue worth speaking of. I hope I should be ready to stand by a falling cause if I had ever adopted it ; but suffering for a falling cause, which one has done one's best to bring to the ground, is a kind of martyrdom for which I have no taste. In my opinion, the philosophical theory which Mr. Lilly attributes to me — but which I have over and over again disclaimed — is untenable and destined to extinction ; and I not unreasonably demur to being counted among its defenders. After the manner of a media3val disputant, Mr. Lilly posts up three theses, which, as he con- ceives, embody the chief heresies propagated by the late Professor Clifford, Mr. Herbert Spencer, and myself. He says that we agree "(1) in putting aside, as unverifiable, everything which the senses cannot verify ; (2) everything beyond the bounds of physical science; (3) everything which cannot be brought into a laboratory and dealt with chemically " (p. 578). My lamented young friend Clifford, sAveetest of natures though keenest of disputants, is out of reach of our little controversies, but his works speak for him, and those who run may read a refutation of Mr. Lilly's assertions in them. Mr. Herbert Spencer, hitherto, has shown no lack either of ability or of inclination to speak for himself; and it would be a superfluity, not to say an impertinence, on my part, to take up the cudgels for him. But, for myself, if my know- 120 SCIENCE AND MORALS m ledge of my own consciousness may be assumed to be adequate (and I make not the least pretension to acquaintance with what goes on in my " Un- bewusstsein "), I may be permitted to observe that the first proposition appears to me to be not true ; that the second is in the same case ; and that, if there be gradations in untrueness, the third is so monstrously untrue that it hovers on the verge of absurdity, even if it does not actually flounder in that logical limbo. Thus, to all three theses, I reply in appropriate fashion, Ncgo — I say No ; and I proceed to state the grounds of that negation, which the proprieties do not permit me to make quite so emphatic as I could desire. Let me begin with the first assertion, that I " put aside, as unverifiable, everything Avhich the senses cannot verif}^" Can such a statement as this be seriously made in respect of an}' human being ? But I am not appointed apologist for mankind in general ; and confining my observa- tions to myself, I beg leave to point out that, at this present moment, I entertain an unshakable conviction that Mr. Lilly is the victim of a patent and enormous misunderstanding, and that I have not the slightest intention of putting that con- viction aside because I cannot " verify " it either by touch, or taste, or smell, or hearing, or sight, which (in the absence of any trace of telepathic faculty) make up the totality of my senses. Again, I may venture to admire the clear and Ill SCIENCE AND MORALS 121 vigorous English in which Mr. Lilly embodies his views ; but the source of that admiration does not lie in anything which my five senses enable me to discover in the pages of his article, and of which an orang-outang might be just as acutely sensible. No, it lies in an appreciation of literary form and logical structure by aesthetic and intellectual feculties which are not senses, and which are not unfrequently sadly wanting where the senses are in full vigour. My poor relation may beat me in the matter of sensation ; but I am quite confident that, when style and syllogisms are to be dealt with, he is nowhere. If there is anything in the world which I do firmly believe in, it is the universal validity of the law of causation ; but that universality cannot be proved by any amount of experience, let alone that which comes to us through the senses. And when an effort of volition changes the current of my thoughts, or when an idea calls up another associated idea, I have not the slightest doubt that the process to which the first of the phe- nomena, in each case, is due stands in the relation of cause to the second. Yet the attempt to verify this belief by sensation would be sheer lunacy. Now I am quite sure that Mr. Lilly does not doubt my sanity ; and the only alternative seems to be the admission that his first proposition is erroneous. The second thesis charges me with putting 122 SCIENCE AND MORALS III aside "as unverifiable" "everything beyond the bounds of physical science." Again I say, No. Nobody, I imagine, will credit me with a desire to limit the empire of physical science, but I really feel bound to confess that a great many very familiar and, at the same time, extremely impor- tant phenomena lie quite beyond its legitimate limits. I cannot conceive, for examjDle, how the phenomena of consciousness, as such and apart from the physical process by which they are called into existence, are to be brought within the bounds of physical science. Take the simplest possible example, the feeling of redness. Physical science tells us that it commonly arises as a con- sequence of molecular changes propagated from the eye to a certain part of the substance of the brain, when vibrations of the luminiferous ether of a certain character fall upon the retina. Let us suppose the process of physical analysis pushed so far that one could view the last link of this chain of molecules, watch their movements as if they were billiard balls, weigh them, measure them, and know all that is physically knowable about them. Well, even in that case, we should be just as far from being able to include the resulting phenomenon of consciousness, the feeling of redness, within the bounds of physical science, as we are at present. It would remain as unlike the jihenomena we know under the names of matter and motion as it is now. If there is any Ill SCIENCE AND MORALS 123 plain truth upon which I have made it my business to insist over and over again it is this — and whether it is a truth or not, my insistence upon it leaves not a shadow of justification for Mr. Lilly's assertion. But I ask in this case also, how is it conceivable that any man, in possession of all his natural faculties, should hold such an opinion ? I do not suppose that I am exceptionally endowed because I have all my life enjoyed a keen perception of the beauty offered us by nature and by art. Now physical science may and probably will, some day, enable our posterity to set forth the exact physical concomitants and conditions of the strange rapture of beauty. But if ever that day arrives, the rapture will remain, just as it is now, outside and beyond the physical world ; and, even in the mental world, something superadded to mere sen- sation. I do not wish to crow unduly over my humble cousin the orang, but in the iBSthetic province, as in that of the intellect, I am afraid he is nowhere. I doubt not he would detect a fruit amidst a wilderness of leaves where I could see nothing ; but I am tolerably confident that he has never been awestruck, as I have been, by the dim religious gloom, as of a temple devoted to the earthgods, of the tropical forests which he in- habits. Yet I doubt not that our poor long- armed and short-legged friend, as he sits medita- tively munching his durian fruit, has something 124' SCIENCE AND MORALS III behind that sacl Socratic face of his which is utterly " beyond the bounds of physical science." Physical science may know all about his clutching the fruit and munching it and digesting it, and how the physical titillation of his palate is trans- mitted to some microscopic cells of the gray matter of his brain. But the feelings of sweet- ness and of satisfaction which, for a moment, hang out their signal lights in his melancholy eyes, are as utterly outside the bounds of physics as is the " fine frenzy " of a human rhapsodist. Does Mr. Lilly really believe that, putting me aside, there is any man with the feeling of music in him who disbelieves in the reality of the delight which he derives from it, because that delight lies outside the bounds of physical science, not less than outside the region of the mere sense of hearing ? But, it may be, that he includes music, painting, and sculpture under the head of physical science, and in that case I can only regret I am unable to follow him in his ennoblement of my favourite pursuits. The third thesis runs that I put aside " as un- verifiable " " everything which cannot be brought into a laboratory and dealt with chemically " ; and, once more, I say No. This wondrous allegation is no novelty; it has not unfrequently reached me from that region where gentle (or ungentle) dulness so often holds unchecked sway — the pulpit. But I marvel to find that a Ill SCIENCE AND MORALS 125 writer of Mr. Lilly's intelligence and good faith is willing to father such a wastrel. If I am to deal with the thing seriously, I find m3'self met by one of the two horns of a dilemma. Either some meaning, as unknown to usage as to the diction- aries, attaches to "laboratory" and "chemical," or the proposition is (what am I to say in my sore need for a gentle and yet appropriate Avord ?) — well — unhistorical. Does Mr. Lilly suppose that I put aside " as unverifiable " all the truths of mathematics, of philology, of history? And if I do not, will he have the great goodness to say how the binomial theorem is to be dealt with " chemically," even in the best-appointed " laboratory " ; or where the balances and crucibles are kept by which the various theories of the nature of the Basque language may be tested ; or what reagents will extract the truth from any given History of Rome, and leave the errors behind as a residual calx ? I really cannot answer these questions, and unless Mr. Lilly can, I think he would do well hereafter to think more than twice before attributing such preposterous notions to his fellow-men, who, after all, as a learned counsel said, are vertebrated animals. The whole thing perj^lexes me much; and I am sure there must be an explanation which will leave Mr. Lilly's reputation for common sense 126 SCIENCE AND MORALS m and fair dealing untouched. Can it be — I put this forward quite tentatively — that Mr. Lilly is the victim of a confusion, common enough among thoughtless people, and into which he has fallen unawares ? Obviously, it is one thing to say that the logical methods of physical science are of universal applicability, and quite another to affirm that all subjects of thought lie within the pro- vince of physical science. I have often declared my conviction that there is only one method by which intellectual truth can be reached, whether the subject-matter of investigation belongs to the world of iDhj'sics or to the world of consciousness ; and one of the arguments in favour of the use of ph3^sical science as an instrument of education v/hich I have oftenest used is that, in my opinion, it exercises young minds in the appreciation of inductive evidence better than any other study. But while I repeat my conviction that the physical sciences probably furnish the best and most easily appreciable illustrations of the one and indivisible mode of ascertaining truth by the use of reason, I beg leave to add that I have never thought of suggesting that other branches of knowledge may not afford the same discipline ; and assuredly I have never given the slightest ground for the attribution to me of the ridiculous contention that there is nothing true outside the bounds of physical science. Doubtless j)eople who wanted to say something damaging, without too nice a Ill SCIENCE AND MORALS 127 regard to its truth or falsehood, have often enough misrepresented my plain meaning. But Mr. Lilly is not one of these folks at whom one looks and passes by, and I can but sorrowfully wonder at finding him in such company." So much for the three theses which Mr. Lilly has nailed on to the page of this Review. I think I have shown that the first is inaccurate, that the second is inaccurate, and that the third is in- accurate ; and that these three inaccurates con- stitute one prodigious, though I doubt not unin- tentional, misrepresentation. If Mr, Lilly and I were dialectic gladiators, fighting in the arena of the " Fortnightly," under the eye of an editorial lanista, for the delectation of the public, my best tactics would now be to leave the field of battle. For the question whether I do, or do not, hold certain opinions is a matter of fact, with regard to which my evidence is likely to be regarded as conclusive — at least until such time as the tele- pathy of the unconscious is more generally recog- nised. However, some other assertions are made by Mr. Lilly which more or less involve matters of opinion whereof the rights and wrongs are less easily settled, but in respect of which he seems to me to err quite as seriously as about the topics we have been hitherto discussing. And the im- portance of these subjects leads me to venture upon saying something about them, even though I am 128 SCIENCE AND MORALS ni thereby compelled to leave the safe ground of personal knowledge. Before launching the three torpedoes which have so sadly exploded on board his own ship, Mr. Lilly says that with whatever " rhetorical ornaments I may gild my teaching," it is " Materialism." Let me observe, in passing, that rhetorical ornament is not in my way, and that gilding refined gold would, to my mind, be less objectionable than varnishing the fair face of truth with that pestilent cosmetic, rhetoric. If I believed that I had any claim to the title of " Materiahst," as that term is understood in the language of jDhilosojDhy and not in that of abuse, I should not attempt to hide it by any sort of gild- incr. I have not found reason to care much for hard names in the course of the last thirty years, and I am too old to develop a new sensitiveness. But, to repeat what I have more than once taken pains to say in the most unadorned of plain language, I repudiate, as philosophical error, the doctrine of Materialism as I understand it, just as I repudiate the doctrine of Spiritualism as Mr. Lilly presents it, and my reason for thus doing is, in both cases, the same ; namely, that, whatever their differences, Materialists and Spiritualists agree in making very positive assertions about matters of which I am certain I know nothinof, and about whicli I believe they are, in truth, just as ignorant. And further, tliat, even when their Ill SCIENCE AND MORALS 129 assertions are confined to topics which He within the range of my faculties, they often appear to me to be in the wrong. And there is yet another reason for objecting to be identified with either of these sects; and that is that each is extremely fond of attributing to the other, by way of re- proach, conclusions which are the property of neither, though they infallibly flow from the logical development of the first principles of both. Surely a prudent man is not to be reproached because he keeps clear of the squabbles of these philosophical Bianchi and Neri, by refusing to have anything to do with either ? I understand the main tenet of Materialism to be that there is nothing in the universe but matter and force ; and that all the phenomena of nature are explicable by deduction from the pro- perties assignable to these two primitive factors. That great champion of Materialism whom Mr. Lilly appears to consider to be an authority in physical science, Dr. Blichner, embodies this article of faith on his title-page. Kraft und Stoff — force and matter — are paraded as the Alpha and Omega of existence. This I apprehend is the fundamental article of the faith materialistic; and whosoever does not hold it is condemned by the more zealous of the persuasion (as I have some reason to know) to the Inferno appointed for fools or hypocrites. But all this I heartily disbelieve ; and at the risk of being charged with VOL. IX K 130 SCIENCE AND MORALS m wearisome repetition of an old story, I will briefly give my reasons for persisting in my infidelity. In the first place, as I have already hinted, it seems to me pretty plain that there is a third thing in the universe, to wit, consciousness, which, in the hardness of my heart or head, I cannot see to be matter, or force, or any conceivable modifica- tion of either, however intimately the manifesta- tions of the phenomena of consciousness may be connected with the phenomena known as matter and force. In the second place, the arguments used by Descartes and Berkeley to show that our certain knowledge does not extend beyond our states of consciousness, appear to me to be as irrefragable now as they did when I first became acquainted with them some half-century ago. All the materialistic writers I know of who have tried to bite that file have simply broken their teeth. But, if this is true, our one certainty is the existence of the mental world, and that of Kraft unci Stoff falls into the rank of, at best, a highly probable h}^othesis. Thirdly, when I was a mere boy, with a per- verse tendency to think when I ought to have been playing, my mind was gi'eatly exercised by this formidable problem. What would become of things if they lost their qualities ? As the quahties had no objective existence, and the thing without qualities was nothing, the solid world seemed whittled away — to my great horror. As I grew Ill SCIENCE AND MORALS 131 older, and learned to use the terms matter and force, the boyish problem was revived, mutato nomine. On the one hand, the notion of matter without force seemed to resolve the world into a set of geometrical ghosts, too dead even to jabber. On the other hand, Boscovich's hypothesis, by which matter was resolved into centres of force, was very attractive. But when one tried to think it out, what in the world became of force con- sidered as an objective entity ? Force, even the most materialistic of philosophers will agree with the most idealistic, is nothing but a name for the cause of motion. And if, with Boscovich, I resolved things into centres of force, then matter vanished altogether and left immaterial entities in its place. One might as well frankly accept Idealism and have done with it. I must make a confession, even if it be humili- ating. I have never been able to form the slightest conception of those " forces " which the Materialists talk about, as if they had samples of them many years in bottle. They tell me that matter consists of atoms, which are separated by mere space devoid of contents ; and that, through this void, radiate the attractive and repulsive forces whereby the atoms affect one another. If anybody can clearly conceive the nature of these things which not only exist in nothingness, but pull and push there with great vigour, I envy him for the possession of an intellect of larger grasp, not only than mine, but than that of K 2 132 SCIENCE AND MORALS m Leibnitz or of Newton> To me the " chimsera, bombinans in vacuo quia comedit secundas inten- tiones" of the schoohnen is a familiar and domestic creature compared with such " forces." Besides, by the h}^othesis, the forces are not matter ; and thus all that is of any particular con- sequence in the world turns out to be not matter on the Materialist's own showing. Let it not be supposed that I am casting a doubt upon the propriety of the employment of the terms " atom " and " force," as they stand among the working hypotheses of physical science. As formula3 which can be applied, with perfect precision and great con- venience, in the interpretation of nature, their value is incalculable ; but, as real entities, having an ob- jective existence, an indivisible particle which never- theless occupies space is surely inconceivable ; and with respect to the operation of that atom, where it is not, by the aid of a " force " resident in nothingness, I am as little able to imagine it as I fancy any one else is. Unless and until anybody will resolve all these doubts and difficulties for me, I think I have a right to hold aloof from Materialism. As to Spiritualism, it lands me in even greater difficul- ^ See the famous Collection of Papers, published by Clarke in 1717, Leibnitz says : " 'Tis also a supernatural tiling that bodies should attract one another at a distance without any intermediate means." And Clarke, on behalf of Newton, eaj)S this as follows : " That one body should attract another without any intermediate mcaiis is, indeed, not a miracle, but a contra- diction ; for 'tis supposing something to act where it is not." Ill SCIENCE AND MORALS 133 ties when I want to get change for its notes-of- hand in the solid coin of reality. For the assumed substantial entity, spirit, which is supposed to underlie the phenomena of consciousness, as matter underlies those of physical nature, leaves not even a geometrical ghost when these phenomena are abstracted. And, even if we suppose the existence of such an entity apart from qualities — that is to say, a bare existence — for mind, how does any- body know that it differs from that other entity, apart from qualities, which is the supposed sub- stratum of matter ? Spiritualism is, after all, little better than Materialism turned upside down. And if I try to think of the " spirit " which a man, by this hypothesis, carries about under his hat, as something devoid of relation to space, and as something indivisible, even in thought, while it is, at the same time, supposed to be in that place and to be possessed of half a dozen different faculties, I confess I get quite lost. As I have said elsewhere, if I were forced to choose between MateriaHsm and Idealism, I should elect for the latter ; and I certainly would have nothing to do with the effete mythology of Spiritualism. But I am not aware that I am under any compulsion to choose either the one or the other. I have always entertained a strong suspicion that the sage who maintained that man is the measure of the universe was sadly in the wrong ; and age and experience have not weakened 134 SCIENCE AND MORALS m that conviction. In following these Hnes of specu- lation I am reminded of the quarter-deck walks of my youth. In taking that form of exercise you may perambulate through all points of the com- pass with perfect safety, so long as you keep within certain limits : forget those limits, in your ardour, and mere smothering and spluttering, if not worse, await you. I stick by the deck and throw a life- buoy now and then to the struggling folk who have gone overboard; and all I get for my humanity is the abuse of all whenever they leave off abusing one another. Tolerably early in life I discovered that one of the unpardonable sins, in the eyes of most people, is for a man to presume to go about unlabelled. The world regards such a person as the police do an unmuzzled dog, not under proper control. I could find no label that would suit me, so, in my desire to range myself and be respectable, I in- vented one ; and, as the chief thing I was sure of was that I did not knoAV a great many things that the — ists and the — ites about me professed to be familiar with, I called myself an Agnostic. Surely no denomination could be more modest or more appropriate ; and I cannot imagine why I should be every now and then haled out of my refuge and declared sometimes to be a Materialist, some- times an Atheist, sometimes a Positivist ; and sometimes, alas and alack, a cowardly or reaction- ary Obscurantist. Ill SCIENCE AND MORALS 135 I trust that I have, at last, made my case clear, and that henceforth I shall be allowed to rest in peace — at least, after a further explanation or two, which Mr. Lilly proves to me may be necessary. It has been seen that my excellent critic has original ideas respecting the meaning of the words " laboratory " and " chemical " ; and, as it appears to me, his definition of " Materialist " is quite as much peculiar to himself For, unless I misunderstand him, and I have taken pains not to do so, he puts me down as a Materialist (over and above the grounds which I have shown to have no foundation); firstly, because I have said that consciousness is a function of the brain ; and, secondly, because I hold by determinism. With respect to the first point, I am not aware that there is any one who doubts that, in the proper physiological sense of the word function, con- sciousness, in certain forms at any rate, is a cerebral function. In physiology we call function that effect, or series of effects, which results from the activity of an organ. Thus, it is the function of muscle to give rise to motion ; and the muscle gives rise to motion when the nerve which supplies it is stimulated. If one of the nerve- bundles in a man's arm is laid bare and a stimulus is applied to certain of the nervous filaments, the result will be production of motion in that arm. If others are stimulated, the result will be the production of the state of consciousness called ISG SCIENCE AND MORALS III pain. Now, if I trace these last nerve-filaments, I find them to be ultimately connected with part of the substance of the brain, just as the others turn out to be connected with muscular sub- stance. If the production of motion in the one case is properly said to be the function of the muscular substance, why is the production of a state of consciousness in the other case not to be called a function of the cerebral substance ? Once upon a time, it is true, it was supposed that a certain " animal spirit " resided in muscle and was the real active agent. But we have done with that wholly superfluous fiction so far as the muscular organs are concerned. Why are we to retain a corresponding fiction for the nervous organs ? If it is replied that no physiologist, however spiritual his leanings, dreams of supposing that simple sensations require a " spirit " for their production, then I must point out that we are all agreed that consciousness is a function of matter, and that particular tenet must be given up as a mark of Materialism. Any further argu- ment will turn upon the question, not whether consciousness is a function of the brain, but whether all forms of consciousness are so. Again, I hold it would be quite correct to say that material changes are the causes of psychical phenomena (and, as a consequence, that the organs in which these changes take place have Ill SCIENCE AND MORALS 137 the production of such phenomena lor their function), even if the spirituaHstic hypothesis had any foundation. For nobody hesitates to say that an event A is the cause of an event Z, even if there are as many intermediate terms, known and unknown, in the chain of causation as there are letters between A and Z. The man who pulls the trigger of a loaded pistol placed close to another's head certainly is the cause of that other's death, though, in strictness, he " causes " nothing but the movement of the finger upon the trigger. And, in like manner, the molecular change which is brought about in a certain portion of the cerebral substance by the stimula- tion of a remote part of the body would be properly said to be the cause of the consequent feeling, whatever unknown terms were interposed between the physical agent and the actual psychi- cal product. Therefore, unless Materialism has the monopoly of the right use of language, I see nothing materialistic in the phraseology which I have employed. The only remaining justification which Mr. Lilly offers for dubbing me a Materialist, malgrd moi, arises out of a passage which he quotes, in which I say that the progress of science means the exten- sion of the province of what we call matter and force, and the concomitant gradual banishment from all regions of human thought of what we call spirit and spontaneity. I hold that opinion now, 188 SCIENCE AND MORALS m if anything, more firmly tlian I did when I gave utterance to it a score of years ago, for it has been justified by subsequent events. But what that opinion has to do with Materialism I fail to discover. In my judgment, it is consistent Avith the most thorough-going Idealism, and the grounds of that judgment are really very plain and simple. The growth of science, not merely of physical science, but of all science, means the demonstration of order and natural causation among phenomena which had not previously been brought under those conceptions. Nobody who is acquainted with the progress of scientific thinking in every department of human knowledge, in the course of the last two centuries, will be disposed to deny that immense provinces have been added to the realm of science ; or to doubt that the next two centuries will be witnesses of a vastly greater annexation. More particularly in the region of the physiology of the nervous sj^stem is it justifiable to conclude from the progress that has been made in analysing the relations between material and psj^hical pheno- mena, that vast further advances will be made ; and that, sooner or later, all the so-called spon- taneous operations of the mind will have, not only their relations to one another, but their relations to physical phenomena, connected in natural series of causes and effects, strictly defined. In other words, while, at present, we know only the nearer Ill SCIENCE AND MORALS 139 moiety of the chain of causes and effects, by which the phenomena we call material give rise to those which we call mental ; hereafter, we shall get to the further end of the series. In my innocence, I have been in the habit of supposing that this is merely a statement of facts, and that the good Bishop Berkeley, if he were alive, would find such facts fit into his system without the least difficulty. That Mr. Lilly should play into the hands of his foes, by declaring that unmistakable facts make for them, is an exemplification of ways that are dark, quite un- intelligible to me. Surely Mr. Lilly does not hold that the disbelief in spontaneity — which term, if it has any meaning at all, means uncaused action — is a mark of the beast Materialism ? If so, he must be prepared to tackle many of the Cartesians (if not Descartes himself), Spinoza and Leibnitz among the philosophers, Augustine, Thomas Aquinas, Calvin and his followers among theolo- gians, as Materialists — and that surely is a suffi- cient redudio ad absurdtim of such a classification. The truth is, that in his zeal to paint " Material- ism," in large letters, on everything he dislikes, Mr. Lilly forgets a very important fact, which, however, must be patent to every one who has paid attention to the history of human thought ; and that fact is, that every one of the specu- lative difficulties which beset Kant's three prob- lems, the existence of a Deity, the freedom of the 140 SCIENCE AND MORALS m will, and immortality, existed ages before any- thing that can be called physical science, and would continue to exist if modern jDhysical science were swept away. All that physical science has done has been to make, as it were, visible and tangible some difficulties that formerly were more hard of apprehension. Moreover, these difficulties exist just as much on the hypothesis of Idealism as on that of Materialism. The student of nature, who starts from the axiom of the universality of the law of causation, cannot refuse to admit an eternal existence ; if he admits the conservation of energy, he cannot deny the possibility of an eternal energy; if he admits the existence of immaterial phenomena in the form of consciousness, he must admit the possibility, at any rate, of an eternal series of such phenomena ; and, if his studies have not been barren of the best fruit of the investigation of nature, he will have enough sense to see that when Spinoza says, " Per Deum intelligo ens absolute infinitum, hoc est substantiam constantem infinitis attributis," the God so conceived is one that only a very great fool would deny, even in his heart. Physical science is as httle Atheistic as it is Materialistic. So with respect to immortaUty. As physical science states this problem, it seems to stand thus : " Is there any means of knowing whether the series of states of consciousness, which has been Ill SCIENCE AND MORALS 141 casually associated for threescore years and ten with the arrangement and movements of in- numerable millions of successively different mate- rial molecules, can be continued, in like associ- ation, with some substance which has not the properties of matter and force ? " As Kant said, on a like occasion, if anybody can answer that question, he is just the man I want to see. If he says that consciousness cannot exist, except in relation of cause and effect with certain organic molecules, I must ask how he knows that ; and if he says it can, I must put the same question. And I am afraid that, like jesting Pilate, I shall not think it worth while (having but little time before me) to wait for an answer. Lastly, with respect to the old riddle of the freedom of the will. In the only sense in which the word freedom is intelligible to me — that is to say, the absence of any restraint upon doing what one likes within certain limits — physical science certainly gives no more ground for doubting it than the common sense of mankind does. And if physical science, in strengthening our belief in the universality of causation and abolishing chance as an absurdity, leads to the conclusions of deter- minism, it does no more than follow the track of consistent and logical thinkers in philosophy and in theology, before it existed or was thought of Whoever accepts the universality of the law of causation as a dogma of philosophy, denies the 142 SCIENCE AND MORALS III existence of uncaused jDhenomena. And the essence of that which is improperly called the freewill doctrine is that occasionally, at any rate, human volition is self-caused, that is to say, not caused at all ; for to cause oneself one must have anteceded oneself — which is, to say the least of it, difficult to imagine. Whoever accejDts the existence of an omniscient Deity as a dogma of theology, affirms that the order of things is fixed from eternity to eternity ; for the fore-knowledge of an occurrence means that the occurrence will certainly happen; and the certainty of an event happening is what is meant by its being fixed or fated.^ 1 I may cite, in support of this obvious conclusion of sound reasoning, two authorities who ^Yill certainly not be regarded lightly by Mr, Lilly. These are Augustine and Thomas Aquinas. The former declares that "Fate" is only an ill- chosen name for Providence. "Prorsus divina providentia regna constituuntur humana. Quoe si propterea quisquam fato tribuit, quia ipsam Dei volun- tatem vel potestatem fati nomine appellat, sententiaia tencaty linriuam corrigat" (Augustinus Be Civitate Dei, V. c. i.) The other great doctor of the Catholic Church, " Divus Thomas," as Suarez calls him, whose marvellous grasp and subtlety of intellect seem to me to be almost without a parallel, puts the whole case into a nutshell, when he says that the ground for doing a thing in the mind of the doer is as it were the pre-existence of the thing done : "Ratio autem alicujus fiendi in mente actoris existens est quredam prse-existentia rei fiendaj in eo" {Summa, Qu. xxiii. Art. i.) If this is not enough, I may further ask what " Materialist" has ever given a better statement of the case for determinism, on theistic grounds, than is to be found in the following passage of the Summa, Qu. xiv. Art. xiii. " Omnia qua; sunt in tempore, sunt Deo ab ajterno pnesentia, nou solum ea ex ratiouo qua habet ratioues rerum apud se Ill SCIENCE AND MORALS 143 Whoever asserts the existence of an omnipotent Deity, that he made and sustains all things, and is the causa causarum, cannot, without a contra- diction in terms, assert that there is any cause independent of him ; and it is a mere subterfuge to assert that the cause of all things can " permit " one of these things to be an independent cause. Whoever asserts the combination of omniscience and omnipotence as attributes of the Deity, does implicitly assert predestination. For he who knowingly makes a thing and places it in circum- stances the operation of which on that thing he is perfectly acquainted with, does predestine that thing to whatever fate may befall it. Thus, to come, at last, to the really important part of all this discussion, if the belief in a God is essential to morality, physical science offers no obstacle thereto ; if the belief in immortality is essential to morality, physical science has no more to say against the probability of that doctrine than the most ordinary experience has, and it effectually closes the mouths of those who pretend to refute it by objections deduced from merely physical presentes, ut quidam diciint, sed quia ejus intuitus fertur ab seterno supra omnia, prout sunt in sua praesentialitate. Unde manifcstum est quod contingcntia infallihiliter a Deo cognos- cuntur, in quantum subduntur divino conspectui secundum suam prtesentialitatem ; et tamen sunt futura contingentia, suis causis proximis comparata." [As I have not said that Thomas Aquinas is professedly a determinist, I do not see the bearing of citations from him which may be more or less inconsistent with the foregoing.] 144 SCIENCE AND MORALS m data. Finally, if the belief in the uncausedness of volition is essential to morality, the student of physical science has no more to say against that absurdity than the logical philosopher or theo- logian. Physical science, I rej^eat, did not invent determinism, and the deterministic doctrine would stand on just as firm a foundation as it does if there were no physical science. Let any one who doubts this read Jonathan Edwards, whose de- monstrations are derived wholly from j^hilosophy and theology. Thus, when Mr. Lilly, like another Solomon Eagle, goes about proclaiming " Woe to this wicked city," and denouncing j^hysical science as the evil genius of modern days — mother of materialism, and fatalism, and all sorts of other condemnable isms — I venture to beg him to lay the blame on the right shoulders ; or, at least, to put in the dock, along Avith Science, those sinful sisters of hers. Philosophy and Theology, who, being so much older, should have known better than the poor Cinderella of the schools and universities over which they have so long dominated. No doubt modern society is diseased enough ; but then it does not differ from older civilisations in that respect. Societies of men are fermenting masses, and, as beer has what the Germans call " Oberhefe " and " Unterhefe," so every society that has existed has had its scum at the top and its dregs at the bottom ; but I doubt if any of the Ill SCIENCE AND MORALS 145 " ages of faith " had less scum or less dregs, or even showed a proportionally gi'eater quantity of sound wholesome stuff in the vat. I think it would puzzle Mr. Lilly, or any one else, to adduce con- vincing evidence that, at any period of the world's history, there was a more widespread sense of social duty, or a greater sense of justice, or of the obligation of mutual help, than in this England of ours. Ah ! but, says Mr. Lilly, these are all pro- ducts of our Christian inheritance ; when Christian dogmas vanish virtue will disappear too, and the ancestral ape and tiger will have full play. But there are a good many people who think it obvious that Christianity also inherited a good deal from Paganism and from Judaism; and that, if the Stoics and the Jews revoked their bequest, the moral property of Christianity would realise very little. And, if morality has survived the stripping off of several sets of clothes which have been found to fit badly, why should it not be able to get on very well in the light and handy garments which Science is ready to provide ? But this by the way. If the diseases of society consist in the weakness of its faith in the existence of the God of the theologians, in a future state, and in uncaused volitions, the indication, as the doctors say, is to suppress Theology and Philo- sophy, whose bickerings about things of which they know nothing have been the prime cause and continual sustenance of that evil scepticism VOL. IX L 146 SCIENCE AND MORALS III which is the Nemesis of meddling with the un- knowable. Cinderella is modestly conscious of her ignor- ance of these high matters. She lights the fire, sweeps the house, and provides the dinner; and is rewarded by being told that she is a base creature, devoted to low and material interests. But in her garret she has fairy visions out of the ken of the pair of shrews who are quarrelling down stairs. She sees the order which pervades the seeming disorder of the world ; the great drama of evolution, with its full share of pity and terror, but also with abundant goodness and beauty, unrolls itself before her eyes ; and she learns, in her heart of hearts, the lesson, that the foundation of morality is to have done, once and for all, with lying ; to give up pretending to believe that for which there is no evidence, and repeating unintelligible propositions about things beyond the possibilities of knowledge. She knows that the safety of morality lies neither in the adoption of this or that philo- sophical speculation, or this or that theological creed, but in a real and living belief in that fixed order of nature which sends social disorganisation upon the track of immorality, as surely as it sends physical disease after physical trespasses. And of that firm and lively faith it is her high mission to be the priestess. IV CAPITAL— THE MOTHER OF LABOUR AN ECONOMICAL PROBLEM DISCUSSED FROM A PHYSIOLOGICAL POINT OF VIEW [1890] The first act of a new-born child is to draw a deep breath. In fact, it will never draw a deeper, inasmuch as the passages and chambers of the lungs, once distended with air, do not empty themselves again ; it is only a fraction of their contents which passes in and out with the flow and the ebb of the respiratory tide. Mechanically, this act of drawing breath, or inspiration, is of the same nature as that by which the handles of a bellows are separated, in order to fill the bellows with air ; and, in like manner, it involves that expenditure of energy which we call exertion, or work, or labour. It is, therefore, no mere metaphor to say that man is destined to a life of toil : the work of respiration which began with his first breath ends only with his last ; nor does one born L 2 148 CAPITAL — THE MOTHER OF LABOUR iv in the purple get off with a lighter task than the child who first sees light under a hedge. How is it that the new-born infant is enabled to perform this first instalment of the sentence of life-long labour which no man may escape ? Whatever else a child may be, in resj^ect of this particular question, it is a complicated piece of mechanism, built up out of materials supplied by its mother; and in the course of such building- up, provided witli a set of motors — the muscles. Each of these muscles contains a stock of sub- stance capable of yielding energy under certain conditions, one of which is a change of state in the nerve fibres connected with it. The powder in a loaded gun is such another stock of substance capable of yielding energy in consequence of a change of state in the mechanism of the lock, which intervenes between the finger of the man who pulls the trigger and the cartridge. If that change is brought about, the potential energy of the powder passes suddenly into actual energy, and does the work of propelling the bullet. The powder, therefore, may be appropriately called worh-stujf, not only because it is stuff which is easily made to yield work in the physical sense, but because a good deal of work in the economical sense has contributed to its production. Labour was necessary to collect, transport, and purify the raw sulphur and saltpetre ; to cut wood and con- vert it into powdered charcoal ; to mix these in- IV CAPITAL — THE MOTHER OF LABOUR 149 gredients in the right proportions; to give the mixture the projDer grain, and so on. The powder once formed part of the stock, or capital, of a powder-maker : and it is not only certain natural bodies which are collected and stored in the gun- powder, but the labour bestowed on the operations mentioned may be figuratively said to be incor- porated in it. In principle, the work-stuff stored in the muscles of the new-born child is comparable to that stored in the gun-barrel. The infant is launched into altogether new surroundings ; and these operate through the mechanism of the nervous machinery, with the result that the potential energy of some of the work-stuff in the muscles which bring about inspiration is suddenly converted into actual energy ; and this, operating through the mechanism of the respiratory ap- paratus, gives rise to an act of inspiration. As the bullet is propelled by the "going off" of the powder, as it might be said that the ribs are raised and the midriff depressed by the " going off" of certain portions of muscular work-stuff. This work-stuff is part of a stock or capital of that commodity stored up in the child's organism before birth, at the expense of the mother ; and the mother has made good her expenditure by drawing upon the capital of food-stuffs which furnished her daily maintenance. Under these circumstances, it does not appear 150 CAPITAL — THE MOTHER OF LABOUR iv to me to be open to doubt that the primary act of outward labour in the series which necessarily accomjDany the life of man is dependent upon the pre-existence of a stock of material which is not only of use to him, but which is disposed in such a manner as to be utili sable with facility. And I further imagine that the propriety of the application of the term ' capital ' to this stock of useful substance cannot be justly called in question; inasmuch as it is easy to prove that the essential constituents of the work-stuff accumulated in the child's muscles have merely been transferred from the store of food-stuffs, which everybody admits to be capital, by means of the maternal organism to that of the child, in which they are again deposited to await use. Every subsequent act of labour, in like manner, involves an equivalent consumj^tion of the child's store of work-stuff — its vital capital ; and one of the main objects of the process of breathing is to get rid of some of the effects of that consumption. It follows, then, that, even if no other than the respiratory work were going on in the organism, the capital of work-stuff, which the child brought with it into the world, must sooner or later be used up, and the movements of breathing must come to an end ; just as the see-saw of the piston of a steam-engine stops when the coal in the fireplace has burnt away. Milk, however, is a stock of materials which IV CAPITAL — THE MOTHER OF LABOUR 151 essentially consists of savings from the food-stuffs supplied to the mother. And these savings are in such a j^hysical and chemical condition that the organism of the child can easily convert them into work-stuff. That is to say, by borrowing directly from the vital capital of the mother, indirectly from the store in the natural bodies accessible to her, it can make good the loss of its own. The operation of borrowing, however, involves further work ; that is, the labour of sucking, which is a mechanical operation of much the same nature as breathing. Tlie child thus pays for the capital it borrows in labour ; but as the value in work-stuff of the milk obtained is very far greater than the value of that labour, estimated by the consumption of work-stuff it involves, the operation yields a large profit to the infant. The overplus of food-stuff suffices to in- crease the child's capital of work-stuff; and to supply not only the materials for the enlargement of the " buildings and machinery " which is ex- pressed by the child's growth, but also the energy required to put all these materials together, and to carry them to their proper places. Thus, throughout the years of infancy, and so long thereafter as the youth or man is not thrown upon his own resources, he lives by consuming the vital capital provided by others. To use a terminology which is more common than appro- priate, whatever work he performs (and he does 152 CAPITAL — THE MOTHER OF LABOUR iv a good deal, if only in mere locomotion) is un- productive. Let us now suppose the child come to man's estate in the condition of a wandering savage, dependent for his food upon what he can pick up or catch, after the fashion of the Australian aborigines. It is plain that the place of mother, as the supplier of vital capital, is now taken by the fruits, seeds, and roots of plants and by various kinds of animals. It is they alone which contain stocks of those substances which can be converted within the man's organism into work-stuff; and of the other matters, except air and water, required to supply the constant consumption of his capital and to keep his organic machinery going. In no way does the savage contribute to the production of these substances. Whatever labour he bestows upon such vegetable and animal bodies, on the contrary, is devoted to their destruction ; and it is a mere matter of accident whether a little labour yields him a great deal — as in the case, for example, of a stranded whale ; or whether much labour yields next to nothing — as in times of long-continued drought. The savage, like the child, borrows the capital he needs, and, at any rate, intentionally, does nothing towards repay- ment ; it would plainly be an improper use of the word " produce " to say that his labour in hunting for the roots, or the fruits, or the eggs, or the grubs and snakes, which he finds and eats, " j^ro- IV CAPITAL — THE MOTHER OF LABOUR 153 duces " or contributes to " produce " them. The same thing is true of more advanced tribes, who are still merely hunters, such as the Esquimaux. They may expend more labour and skill ; but it is spent in destruction. When we pass from these to men who lead a purely pastoral Hfe, like the South American Gauchos, or some Asiatic nomads, there is an important change. Let us suppose the owner of a flock of sheep to Hve on the milk, cheese, and flesh which they yield. It is obvious that the flock stands to him in the economic relation of the mother to the child, inasmuch as it suppHes him with food-stuffs competent to make good the daily and hourly losses of his capital of work- stuff. If we imagine our sheep-owner to have access to extensive pastures and to be troubled neither by predacious animals nor by rival shep- herds, the performance of his pastoral functions will hardly involve the expenditure of any more labour than is needful to provide him with the exercise required to maintain health. And this is true, even if we take into account the trouble originally devoted to the domestication of the sheep. It surely would be a most singular pre- tension for the shepherd to talk of the flock as the " produce " of his labour in any but a very limited sense. In truth, his labour would have been a mere accessory of production of very little consequence. Under the circumstances supposed, 154 CAPITAL — THE MOTHER OF LABOUR iv a ram and some ewes, left to themselves for a few years, would probably generate as large a flock ; and the superadded labour of the shepherd would have little more effect upon their production than upon that of the blackberries on the bushes about the pastures. For the most part the increment would be thoroughly unearned ; and, if it is a rule of absolute political ethics that owners have no claim upon " betterment " brought about inde- pendently of their own labour, then the shepherd would have no claim to at least nine-tenths of the increase of the flock. But if the shepherd has no real claim to the title of " producer," who has ? Are the rams and ewes the true " producers " ? Certainly their title is better if, borrowing from the old terminology of chemistry, they only claim to be regarded as the " proximate principles " of production. And yet, if strict justice is to be dispensed, even they are to be regarded rather as collectors and distri- butors than as " producers." For all that they really do is to collect, slightly modify, and render easily accessible, the vital capital which already exists in the green herbs on which they feed, but in such a form as to be practically out of the reach of man. Thus, from an economic point of view, the sheep are more comparable to confectioners than to producers. The usefulness of biscuit lies in the raw flour of which it is made ; but raw flour IV CAPITAL — THE MOTHER OF LABOUR 155 does not answer as an article of human diet, and biscuit does. So the usefuhiess of mutton hes mainly in certain chemical compounds which it contains : the sheep gets them out of grass ; we cannot live on grass, but we can on mutton. Now, herbaceous and all other green plants stand alone among terrestrial natural bodies, in so far as, under the influence of light, they possess the power to build up, out of the carbonic acid gas in the atmosphere, water and certain nitro- genous and mineral salts, those substances which in the animal organism are utilised as work-stuff. They are the chief and, for practical purposes, the sole producers of that vital capital which we have seen to be the necessary antecedent of every act of labour. Every green plant is a laboratory in which, so long as the sun shines upon it, materials furnished by the mineral world, gases, water, saline compounds, are worked uj) into those food- stuffs without which animal life cannot be carried on. And since, up to the present time, synthetic chemistry has not advanced so far as to achieve this feat, the green plant may be said to be the only living worker whose labour directly results in the production of that vital capital which is the necessary antecedent of human labour.^ Nor is this statement a paradox involving perpetual ^ It remains to be seen whether the plants which have no chlorophyll, and flourish in darkness, such as the Fungi, can live upon purely mineral food. 156 CAPITAL — THE MOTHER OF LABOUR iv motion, because the energy by which the plant does its work is supplied by the sun — the prim- ordial capitalist so far as we are concerned. But it cannot be too strongly impressed upon the mind that sunshine, air, water, the best soil that is to be found on the surface of the earth, might co-exist ; yet without plants, there is no known agency competent to generate the so-called " jDrotein compounds," by which alone animal life can be permanently supported. And not only are plants thus essential ; but, in respect of par- ticular kinds of animals, they must be plants of a particular nature. If there were no terrestrial green plants but, say, c}^resses and mosses, pastoral and agricultural life would be alike impossible; indeed, it is difficult to imagine the possibility of the existence of any large animal, as the labour required to get at a sufficiency of the store of food-stuffs, contained in such plants as these, could hardly extract from them an equi- valent for the waste involved in that expenditure of work. We are compact of dust and air ; from that we set out, and to that complexion must we come at last. The plant either directly, or by some animal intermediary, lends us the capital which enables us to carry on the business of life, as we flit through the upper world, from the one term of our journey to the other. Popularly, no doubt, it is permissible to sjDcak of the soil as a " pro- IV CAPITAL — THE MOTHER OF LABOUR 157 ducer," just as we may talk of the daily movement of the sun. But, as I have elsewhere remarked, propositions which are to bear any deductive strain that may be put upon them must run the risk of seeming pedantic, rather than that of being inaccurate. And the statement that land, in the sense of cultivable soil, is a producer, or even one of the essentials of economic production, is any- thing but accurate. The process of water-culture, in which a plant is not " planted " in any soil, but is merely supported in water containing in solution the mineral ingredients essential to that plant, is now thoroughly understood ; and, if it were worth while, a crop yielding abundant food-stuffs could be raised on an acre of fresh water, no less than on an acre of dry land. In the Arctic regions, again, land has nothing to do with " production " in the social economy of the Esquimaux, who live on seals and other marine animals; and might, like Proteus, shepherd the flocks of Poseidon if they had a mind for pastoral life. But the seals and the bears are dependent on other inhabitants of the sea, until, somewhere in the series, we come to the minute green plants which float in the ocean, and are the real " producers " by which the whole of its vast animal population is supported.^ 1 In some remarkable passages of the Botany of Sir James Ross's Antarctic voyage, which took place half a century ago, Sir Josejdi Hooker demonstrated the dependence of the animal life of the sea upon the minute, indeed microscopic, plants which float in it : a marvellous example of what may be done 158 CAPITAL — THE MOTHER OF LABOUR iv Thus, when we find set. forth as an " absolute " truth the statement that the essential factors in economic production are land, capital and labour — when this is offered as an axiom whence all sorts of other important truths may be deduced — it is needful to remember that the assertion is true only with a qualification. Undoubtedly " vital capital" is essential; for, as we have seen, no human work can be done unless it exists, not even that internal work of the body which is necessary to passive life. But, with respect to labour (that is, human labour) I hope to have left no doubt on the reader's mind that, in regard to production, the importance of human labour may be so small as to be almost a vanishing quantity. Moreover, it is certain that there is no approximation to a fixed ratio between the expenditure of labour and the production of that vital capital which is the foundation of all wealth. For, suppose that we introduce into our suppositious pastoral paradise beasts of prey and rival shepherds, the amount of labour thrown upon the sheep-owner may increase almost indefinitely, and its importance as a con- dition of production may be enormously aug- mented, while the quantity of produce remains stationary. Compare for a moment the unim- by water-culture. One might indulge in dreams of cultivating and improving diatoms, until the domesticated bore the same relation to the wild forms, as cauliflowers to the primitive Brassica oleracca, without passing beyond the limits of fair gcientific speculation. IV CAPITAL — THE MOTHER OF LABOUR 159 portance of the shepherd's labour, under the cir- cumstances first defined, with its indispensability in countries in which the water for the sheep has to be drawn from deep wells, or in which the flock has to be defended from wolves or from human depredators. As to land, it has been shown that, except as affording mere room and standing ground, the importance of land, great as it may be, is secondary. The one thing needful for economic production is the green plant, as the sole producer of vital capital from natural inorganic bodies. Men might exist without labour (in the ordinary sense) and without land ; without plants they must inevitably perish. That which is true of the purely pastoral con- dition is a fortiori true of the purely agricultural ^ condition, in which the existence of the cultivator is directly dependent on the production of vital capital by the plants which he cultivates. Here, again, the condition precedent of the work of each year is vital capital. Suppose that a man lives exclusively upon the plants which he cultivates. It is obvious that he must have food-stufis to live upon, while he prepares the soil for sowing and throughout the period which elapses between this and harvest. These food-stuffs must be yielded by the stock remaining over from former crops. ^ It is a pity that we have no word that signifies plant-culture exclusively. But for the present purpose I may restrict agi'iculture to that sense. 160 CAPITAL — THE MOTHER OF LABOUR iv Tlie result is the same as before — the pre-existence of vital capital is the necessary antecedent of labour. Moreover, the amount of labour which contributes, as an accessory condition, to the pro- duction of the crop varies as widely in the case of plant-raising as in that of cattle-raising. With favourable soil, climate and other conditions, it may be very small, with unfavourable, very great, for the same revenue or yield of food-stuflfs. Thus, I do not think it is possible to dispute the following proposition : the existence of any man, or of any number of men, whether organised into a polity or not, depends on the production of food- stuffs (that is, vital capital) readily accessible to man, either directly or indirectly, by plants. But it follows that the number of men who can exist, say for one year, on any given area of land, taken by itself, depends upon the quantity of food-stuffs produced by such plants growing on the area in one year. If « is that quantity, and h the minimum of food-stuffs required for each man, - = n, the maximum number of men who can exist on the area. Now the amount of production (a) is limited by the extent of area occupied ; by the quantity of sunshine which falls upon the area ; by the range and distribution of temperature ; by the force of the winds ; by the supply of water ; by the com- position and the physical characters of the soil ; by animal and vegetable competitors and de- IV CAPITAL — THE MOTHER OF LABOUR 161 stroyers. The labour of man neither does, nor can, produce vital capital ; all that it can do is to modify, favourably or unfavourably, the conditions of its production. The most important of these — namely, sunshine, range of daily and nightly temperature, wind — are practically out of men's reach. ^ On the other hand, the supply of water, the physical and chemical qualities of the soil, and the influences of competitors and destroyers, can often, though by no means always, be largely affected by labour and skill. And there is no harm in calling the effect of such labour " pro- duction," if it is clearly understood that " produc- tion " in this sense is a very different thing from the " production " of food-stuffs by a plant. We have been dealing hitherto with suppositions the materials of which are furnished by everyday experience, not with mere a iwiori assumptions. Our hypothetical solitary shepherd with his flock, or the solitary farmer with his grain field, are mere bits of such experience, cut out, as it were, for easy study. Still borrowing from daily ex- perience, let us suppose that either sheep-owner or farmer, for any reason that may be imagined, * I do not forget electric lighting, greenhouses and hothouses, and the various modes of alFovding slielter against violent winds : but in regard to productiou of food-stuffs on the large scale tliey may be neglected. Even if synthetic chemistry should effect the construction of proteids, tlie Laboratory will hardly enter into competition with the Farm within any time which the present generation need trouble itself about. VOL. IX M 162 CAPITAL — THE MOTHER OF LABOUR iv desires the helj^ of one or more other men ; and that, in exchange for their labour, he offers so many sheep, or quarts of milk, or pounds of cheese, or so many measures of grain, for a year's service. I fail to discover any a priori " rights of labour " in virtue of which these men may insist on being employed, if they are not wanted. But, on the other hand, I think it is clear that there is only one condition upon which the persons to whom the offer of these " wages " is made can accept it ; and that is that the things offered in exchange for a year's work shall contain at least as much vital capital as a man uses up in doing the year's work. For no rational man could knowingly and willingly accept conditions which necessarily involve starvation. Therefore there is an iiTeducible minimum of wages ; it is such an amount of vital capital as suffices to replace the inevitable consumption of the person hired. Now, surely, it is beyond a doubt that these wages, whether at or above the irreducible minimum, are paid out of the capital disposable after the wants of the owner of the flock or of the crop of grain are satisfied ; and, from what has been said already, it follows that there is a limit to the number of men, whether hired, or brought in in any otlier way, who can be maintained by the sheepowner or landowner out of liis own resources. Since no amount of labour can produce an ounce of food- stuff beyond the maximum producible by a limited IV CAPITAL — THE MOTHER OF LABOUR 163 number of plants, under the most favourable circumstances in regard to those conditions whicli are not affected by labour, it follows that, if the number of men to be fed increases indefinitely, a time must come when some will have to starve. That is the essence of the so-called Malthusian doctrine ; and it is a truth which, to my mind, is as plain as the general proposition that a quan- tity which constantly increases will, some time or other, exceed any greater quantity the amount of which is fixed. The foregoing considerations leave no doubt about the fundamental condition of the existence of any polity, or organised society of men, either in a purely pastoral or purely agricultural state, or in any mixture of both states. It must possess a store of vital capital to start with, and the means of repairing the consumption of that capital which takes place as a consequence of the work of the members of the society. And, if the polity occu- pies a completely isolated area of the earth's surface, the numerical strength of that polity can never exceed the quotient of the maximum quantity of food-stuffs producible by the green plants on that area, in each year, divided by the quantity necessary for the maintenance of each person during the year. But, there is a third mode of existence possible to a polity ; it may, conceivably, be neither purely pastoral nor purely agricultural, but purely manufacturing. Let us M 2 164 CAPITAL — THE MOTHER OF LABOUR IV suppose three islands, like Gran Canaria, Teneriffe and Lanzerote, in the Canaries, to be quite cut off from the rest of the world. Let Gran Canaria be inhabited by grain-raisers, Teneriffe by cattle- breeders ; while the population of Lanzerote (which we may suppose to be utterly barren) consists of carpenters, woollen manufacturers, and shoemakers. Then the facts of daily experience teach us that the people of Lanzerote could never have existed unless they came to the island provided with a stock of food-stuffs ; and that they could not continue to exist, unless that stock, as it was consumed, was made up by contributions from the vital capital of either Gran Canaria, or Teneriffe, or both. Moreover, the carpenters of Lanzerote could do nothing, unless they were provided with wood from the other islands ; nor could the wool spinners and weavers or the shoemakers work without wool and skins from the same sources. The wood and the wool and the skins are, in fact, the capital without which their work as manufacturers in their respective trades is impossible — so that the vital and other capital supplied by Gran Canaria and Teneriffe is most indubitably the necessary antecedent of the industrial labour of Lanzerote. It is perfectly true that by the time the wood, the wool, and the skins reached Lanzerote a good deal of labour in cutting, shearing, skinning, transport, and so on, would have been spent upon them. But this IV CAPITAL — THE MOTHER OF LABOUR 165 does not alter the fact that the only " production " which is essential to the existence of the popula- tion of Teneriffe and Gran Canaria is that effected by the green plants in both islands ; and that all the labour spent upon the raw produce useful in manufacture, directly or indirectly yielded by them — by the inhabitants of these islands and by those of Lanzerote into the bargain — will not provide one sohtary Lanzerotian with a dinner, unless the Teneriffians and Canariotes happen to want his goods and to be willing to give some of their vital capital in exchange for them. Under the circumstances defined, if Teneriffe and Gran Canaria disappeared, or if their inhabit- ants ceased to care for carpentry, clothing, or shoes, the people of Lanzerote must starve. But if they wish to buy, then the Lanzerotians, by " cultivating " the buyers, indirectly favour the cultivation of the produce of those buyers. Thus, if the question is asked whether the labour employed in manufacture in Lanzerote is " productive " or " unproductive " there can be only one reply. If anybody will exchange vital capital, or that which can be exchanged for vital capital, for Lanzerote goods, it is productive ; if not, it is unproductive. In the case of the manuftxcturer, the dependence of labour upon capital is still more intimate than in that of the herdsman or agriculturist. When the latter are once started they can go on, without IGG CAPITAL — THE MOTHER OF LABOUR iv troubling themselves about the existence of any other people. But the manufacturer depends on pre-existing capital, not only at the beginning, but at the end of his operations. HoAvever gi'eat the expenditure of his labour and of his skill, the result, for the purpose of maintaining his exist- ence, is just the same as if he had done nothing, unless there is a customer able and wilHng to exchange food-stuflfs for that which his labour and skill have achieved. There is another point concerning which it is very necessary to have clear ideas. Suppose a carpenter in Lanzerote to be engaged in making chests of drawers. Let us suppose that a, the timber, and h, the grain and meat needful for the man's sustenance until he can finish a chest of drawers, have to be paid for by that chest. Then the capital with which he starts is repre- sented by a + 1). He coidd not start at all unless he had it ; day by day, he must destroy more or less of the substance and of the general adapta- bility of a in order to work it up into the special forms needed to constitute the chest of drawers ; and, day by day, he must use up at least so much of l as will replace his loss of vital capital by the work of that day. Suppose it takes the car- penter and his workmen ten days to saw up the timber, to plane the boards, and to give them the shape and size proper for the various parts of the chest of drawers. And suppose that he then lY CAPITAL— THE MOTHER OF LABOUR ICu offers his heap of boards to the advancer of a + h as an equivalent for the wood + ten days' supply of vital capital ? The latter will surely say : " No. I did not ask for a heap of boards. I asked for a chest of drawers. Up to this time, so far as I am concerned, you have done nothing and are as much in my debt as ever." And if the carpenter maintained that he had " virtually " created two- thirds of a chest of drawers, inasmuch as it would take only five days more to put together the pieces of wood, and that the heap of boards ought to be accepted as the equivalent of two-thirds of his debt, I am afraid the creditor would regard him as little better than an impudent swindler. It obviously makes no sort of difference whether the Canariote or Teneriffian buyer advanced the wood and the food-stuffs, on which the carpenter had to maintain himself; or whether the carpenter had a stock of both, the consumption of which must be recouped by the exchange of a chest of drawers for a fresh supply. In the latter case, it is even less doubtful that, if the carpenter offered his boards to the man who wanted a chest of drawers, the latter would laugh in his face. And if he took the chest of drawers for himself, then so much of his vital capital would be sunk in it past recovery. Again, the payment of goods in a lump, for the chest of drawers, comes to the same thing as the papnent of daily wages for the fifteen days that 168 CAPITAL — THE MOTHER OF LABOUR iv the carpenter was occupied in making it. If, at the end of each day, the carpenter chose to say to himself '' I have ' virtually ' created, by my day's labour, a fifteenth of what I shall get for the chest of drawers — therefore my wages are the produce of my day's labour "' — there is no great harm in such metaphorical speech, so long as the poor man does not delude himself into the supposition that it represents the exact truth. " Virtually " is apt to cover more intellectual sins than " charity " does moral delicts. After what has been said, it surely must be plain enough that each day's work has involved the consumption of the carpenter's vital capital, and the fashioning of his timber, at the expense of more or less consumption of those forms of capital. Whether the a + & to be ex- changed for the chest has been advanced as a loan, or is 23aid daily or weekly as wages, or, at some later time, as the price of a finished commodity — the essential element of the transaction, and the only essential element, is, that it must, at least, effect the replacement of the vital capital con- sumed. Neither boards nor chest of drawers are eatable ; and, so far from the carpenter having produced the essential part of his wages by each day's labour, he has merely Avasted that labour, unless somebody who happens to want a chest of drawers offers to exchange vital capital, or some- thing that can procure it, equivalent to the IV CAPITAL— THE MOTHER OF LABOUR 169 amount consumed during the process of manu- facture.^ That it should be necessary, at this time of day, to set forth such elementary truths as these may well seem strange ; but no one who consults that in- teresting museum of political delusions, " Progress and Poverty," some of the treasures of which I have already brought to light, will doubt the fact, if he bestows proper attention upon the first book of that widely-read work. At page 15 it is thus written : The proposition I shall endeavour to prove is : that wages, instead of being drawn from capital, are, in reality, drawn from the product of the labour for which they are paid. Again at page 18 : — In every case in which labour is exchanged for commodities, production really precedes enjoyment . . . wages are the earnings — that is to say, the makings— of labour — not the advances of capital. And the proposition which the author en- deavours to disprove is the hitherto generally accepted doctrine that labour is maintained and paid out of existing capital, before the product which constitutes the ultimate object is secured (p. 16). The doctrine respecting the relation of capital and wages, which is thus opposed in " Progi'ess and ^ See the discussion of this subject further on. 170 CAPITAL — THE MOTHER OF LABOUR iv Poverty," is that illustrated in the foregoing pages ; the truth of which, I conceive, must be plain to any one Avho has apprehended the very simple arguments by which I have endeavoured to demonstrate it. One conclusion or the other must be hopelessly wrong ; and, even at the cost of going once more over some of the ground traversed in this essay and that on " Natural and Political Rights," ^ I propose to show that the en'or lies with " Progress and Poverty" ; in which work, so far as political science is concerned, the poverty is, to my eye, much more apparent than the progress. To begin at the beginning. The author pro- pounds a definition of wealth : " Nothing which nature supplies to man without his labour is wealth " (p. 28). Wealth consists of " natural sub- stances or products which have been adapted by human labour to human use or gratification, their value depending upon the amount of labour which, upon the average, would be required to produce things of like kind" (p. 27). The following examples of wealth are given : — Buildings, cattle, tools, macliinery, agricultural and mineral products, manufactured goods, ships, waggons, furniture, and the like (p. 27). I take it that native metals, coal and brick clay, are " mineral products " ; and I quite believe that they are properly termed " wealth." But when a seam of coal crops out at the surface, and ^ Collected Essays, vol. i. pp. 359-382. IV CAPITAL— THE MOTHER OF LABOUR 171 lumps of coal arc to be had for the picking up ; or when native copper lies about in nuggets, or when brick clay forms a superficial stratum, it appears to me that these things are supplied to, nay almost thrust upon, man without his labour. According to the definition, therefore, they are not " wealth." According to the enumeration, however, they are " wealth " : a tolerably fair specimen of a contradiction in terms. Or does " Progress and Poverty " really suggest that a coal seam which crops out at the surface is not wealth ; but that if somebody breaks off a j)iece and carries it away, the bestowal of this amount of labour upon that particular lump makes it wealth ; while the rest remains " not wealth " ? The notion that the value of a thing bears any necessary relation to the amount of labour (average or otherwise) be- stowed upon it, is a fallacy which needs no further refutation than it has already received. The average amount of labour bestowed upon warming-pans confers no value upon them in the eyes of a Gold- Coast negro ; nor would an Esquimaux give a slice of blubber for the most elaborate of ice-machines. So much for the doctrine of " Progress and Poverty" touching the nature of wealth. Let us now consider its teachings respecting capital as wealth or a part of wealth. Adam Smith's definition " that part of a man's stock which he expects to yield him a revenue is called his capital" is quoted with approval (jx 32); else- 172 CAPITAL— THE MOTHER OF LABOUR iv where capital is said to be that part of wealth " which is devoted to the aid of production " (p. 28) ; and yet again it is said to be wealth in course of exchange,'^ understanding exchange to include, not merely the passing from hand to hand, hut also such transmutations as occur Avhcn the reproductive or trans- forming forces of nature are utilised for the increase of wealth (p. 32). But if too much pondering over the possible senses and scope of these definitions should weary the reader, he will be relieved by the following acknowledgment : — Nor is the definition of capital I have suggested of any importance (p. 33). The author informs us, in fact, that he is " not writing a text-book," thereby intimating his opinion that it is less important to be clear and accurate when you are trying to bring about a political revolution than when a merely academic interest attaches to the subject treated. But he is not busy about anything so serious as a text- book : no, he " is only attempting to discover the laws which control a great social problem" — a mode of expression which indicates perhaps the high-water mark of intellectual muddlement. I have heard, in my time, of " laws " which control other *' laws " ; but this is the first occasion on which " laws " which " control a problem " have come under my notice. Even the disquisitions " of ^ The italics are the author's. IV CAPITAL — THE MOTHER OF LABOUR 173 those flabby writers who have burdened the press and darkened counsel by numerous volumes which are dubbed political economy " (p. 28) could hardly furnish their critics with a finer specimen of that which a hero of the " Dunciad," by the one flash of genius recorded of him, called " clotted nonsense." Doubtless it is a sign of grace that the author of these definitions should attach no importance to any of them; but since, unfortunately, his whole argument turns upon the tacit assumption that they are important, I may not pass them over so lightly. The third I give up. Why any- thing should be capital when it is " in course of exchange," and not be capital under other circum- stances, passes my understanding. We are told that " that part of a farmer's crop held for sale or for seed, or to feed his help, in part payment of wages, would be accounted capital ; that held for tlie care of his family would not be " (p. 31). But I fail to discover any ground of reason or authority for the doctrine that it is only when a crop is about to be sold or sown, or given as wages, that it may be called capital. On the contrary, whether we consider custom or reason, so much of it as is stored away in ricks and barns during harvest, and remains there to be used in any of these ways montlis or years afterwards, is customarily and rightly termed capita-l. Surely, the meaning of tlie clumsy phrase that capital is " wealth in the course of exchange " must be that it is " wealth capable of 174 CAPITAL— THE MOTHER OF LABOUR iv being exchanged " against labour or anything else. That, in fact, is the equivalent of tlie second definition, that capital is "that part of wealth which is devoted to the aid of production." Obviously, if you possess that for which men will give labour, you can aid production by means of that labour. And, again, it agrees with the first definition (borrowed from Adam Smith) that capital is " that part of a man's stock which he expects to yield him a revenue." For a revenue is both etymologically and in sense a "return." A man gives his labour in sowing grain, or in tending cattle, because he expects a " return " — a "revenue" — in the shape of the increase of the grain or of the herd ; and also, in the latter case, in the shape of their labour and manure which " aid the production " of such increase. The grain and cattle of which he is possessed immediately after harvest is his capital ; and his revenue for the twelvemonth, until the next harvest, is the surplus of grain and cattle over and above the amount with which he started. This is disposable for any purpose for which he may desire to use it, leaving him just as well off as he was at the beginning of the year. Whether the man keeps the surplus grain for sowing more land, and the surplus cattle for occupying more pasture ; whether lie exchanges them for other commodities, such as the use of the land (as rent); or labour (as wages); or whether he feeds himself and his IV CAPITAL — THE MOTHER OF LABOUR l75 family, in no way alters their nature as revenue, or affects tlie ftict that this revenue is merely disposable capital. That (even apart from etymology) cattle are typical examples of capital cannot be denied (" Progress and Poverty," p. 25) ; and if we seek for that particular quality of cattle which makes them " capital," neither has the author of " Pro- gress and Poverty" supplied, nor is any one else very likely to supply, a better account of the matter than Adam Smith has done. Cattle are " capital " because they are " stock which yields revenue." That is to say, they afford to their owner a supply of that which he desires to pos- sess. And, in this particular case, the " revenue " is not only desirable, but of supreme importance, inasmuch as it is capable of maintaining human life. The herd yields a revenue of food-stuffs as milk and meat ; a revenue of skins ; a revenue of manure ; a revenue of labour ; a revenue of ex- changeable commodities in the shape of these things, as well as in that of live cattle. In each and all of these capacities cattle are capital ; and, conversely, things which possess any or all of these capacities are capital. Therefore what we find at page 25 of " Progress and Poverty " must be regarded as a welcome lapse into clearness of apprehension : — A fertile field, a rich vein of ore, a falling stream which sup- plies power, may give the possessor advantages equivalent to the 176 CAPITAL — THE MOTHER OF LABOUR iv possession of capital ; Ijut to class such thiugs as capital would Ise to put an end to the distinction between land and capital. Just SO. But the fatal truth is that these things are capital; and that there really is no funda- mental distinction between land and capital. Is it denied that a fertile held, a rich vein of ore, or a falling stream, may form part of a man's stock, and that, if they do, they are caj^able of yielding revenue ? Will not somebody pay a share of the produce in kind, or in money, for the privilege of cultivating the first ; royalties for that of working the second; and a like equivalent for that of erecting a mill on the third ? In what sense, then, are these things less " capital " than the buildings and tools which on page 27 of " Progress and Poverty " are admitted to be capital ? Is it not plain that if these things confer " advantages equivalent to the possession of capital," and if the " advantage " of capital is nothing but the yielding of revenue, then the denial that they are capital is merely a roundabout way of self-contradiction ? All this confused talk about capital, however, is lucidity itself compared with the exposition of the remarkable thesis, " Wages not drawn from capital, but produced by labour," which occupies the third chapter of " Progress and Poverty." If, for instance, I devote my labour to gathering birds' eggs or picking wild berries, the eggs or berries I thus get are my wages. Surely no one will contend that, in such a case, wages are diawu from capital. There is no capital in the case (p. 34). IV CAPITAL — THE MOTHER OF LABOUR 177 Nevertheless, those who have followed what has been said in the first part of this essay surely neither will, nor can, have any hesitation about substantially adopting the challenged contention, though they may possibly have qualms as to the propriety of the use of the term " wages." ^ They will have no difficulty in apprehending the fact that birds' eggs and berries are stores of food- stuffs, or vital capital ; that the man who devotes his labour to getting them does so at the expense of his personal vital capital ; and that, if the eggs and the berries are " wages" for his work, they are so because they enable him to restore to his organism the vital capital which he has consumed in doing the work of collection. So that there is really a great deal of " capital in the case." Our author j)roceeds : — An absolutely naked man, thrown on an island where no human being has before trod, may gather birds' eggs or pick berries (p. 34). No doubt. But those who have followed my argument thus far will be aware that a man's vital capital does not reside in his clothes ; and, therefore, they will probably fail, as completely as I do, to discover the relevancy of the statement. 1 Not merely on the grounds stated below, but on the strength of Mr. George's own definition. Does the gatherer of eggs, or berries, 2^i'odiicc them by his labour ? If so, what do the hens and the bushes do 'i VOL. IX N 178 CAPITAL — THE MOTHER OF LABOUR iv Again : — Or, if I tossesses just that amount of ambiguity which enables him to play hocus-pocus Avith it. It is this ; that " the creation of value does not dej^end upon the fin- ishing of the product " (p. 44). There is no doubt that, under certain limitations, this proposition is correct. It is not true that " labour always adds to capital by its exertion before it takes from capital its wages" (p. 44)> 184 CAPITAL — THE MOTHER OF LABOUR iv but it is true that it may, and often does, produce that effect. To take one of tlie examples given, the con- struction of a ship. The shaping of the timbers undoubtedly gives them a value (for a shipbuilder) which they did not possess before. When they are put together to constitute the framework of the ship, there is a still further addition of value (for a shipbuilder) ; and when the outside planking is added, there is another addition (for a ship- builder). Suppose everything else about the hull is finished, exce^Dt the one little item of caulking the seams, there is no doubt that it has still more value for a shij^builder. But for whom else has it any value, except perhaps for a fire-wood merchant ? What price will any one who wants a shii^ — that is to say, something that will carry a cargo from one port to another — give for the un- finished vessel which would take water in at every seam and go down in half an hour, if she were launched ? Supjoose the shipbuilder s capital to fail before the vessel is caulked, and that he cannot find another shipbuilder who cares to buy and finish it, what sort of proi:>ortion does the value created by the labour, for which he has paid out of his capital, stand to that of his advances ? Surely no one Avill give him one-tenth of the capital disbursed in wages, perhaps not so much even as the prime cost of the raw materials. Therefore, though the assertion that " the creation IV CAPITAL — THE MOTHER OF LABOUR 185 of value does not depend on the finishing of the product" may be strictly true under certain cir- cumstances, it need not be and is not always true. And, if it is meant to imply or suggest that the creation of value in a manufactured article does not depend upon the finishing of that article, a more serious error could hardly be propounded. Is there not a prodigious difference in the value of an uncaulked and in that of a finished ship ; between the value of a house in which only the tiles of the roof are wanting and a finished house ; between that of a clock which only lacks the escapement and a finished clock ? As ships, house, and clock, the unfinished articles have no value whatever — that is to say, no person who wanted to purchase one of these things, for immediate use, would give a farthing for either. The only value they can have, apart from that of the materials they contain, is that which they possess for some one who can finish them, or for some one who can make use of parts of them for the construction of other things. A man might buy an unfinished house for the sake of the bricks ; or he might buy an incomplete clock to use the works for some other piece of machinery. Thus, though every stage of the labour bestowed on raw material, for the purpose of giving rise to a certain product, confers some additional value on that material in the estimation of those who are 186 CAPITAL — THE MOTHER OF LABOUR IV engaged in manufocturing that product, the ratio of that accumulated vakie, at any stage of the process, to the vahie of the finished product is extremely inconstant, and often small; while, to other pei-sons, the value of the unfinished pro- duct may be nothing, or even a minus quantity. A house-timber merchant, for example, might consider that wood which had been worked into the ribs of a ship was spoiled — that is, had less value than it had as a log. According to " Progress and Poverty," there wa.s, really, no advance of capital while the great St. Gothard tunnel was cut. Suppose that, as the Swiss and the Italian halves of the tunnel approached to within half a kilometre, that half-kilometre had turned out to be composed of practically impene- trable rock — would anybody have given a centime for the unfinished tunnel ? And if not, how comes it that " the creation of value does not depend on the finishing of the jDroduct '"' ? I think it may be not too much to say that, of all the political delusions which are current in this queer world, the very stupidest are those which assume that labour and capital are necessarily antagonistic ; that all capital is produced by labour and therefore, by natural right, is the property of the labourer; that the possessor of capital is a robber who preys on the workman and approi^riates to him- self that which lie has had no share in producing. IV CAPITAL — THE MOTHER OF LABOUR 187 On the contrary, capital and labour are, necessarily, close allies ; capital is never a product of human labour alone ; it exists apart from human labour; it is the necessary antecedent of labour; and it furnishes the materials on which labour is employed. The only indispensable form of capital — vital capital — cannot be produced by human labour. All that man can do is to favour its formation by the real producers. There is no intrinsic relation between the amount of labour bestowed on an article and its value in exchange. The claim of labour to the total result of operations which are rendered possible only by capital is simply an a 'priori iniquity. SOCIAL DISEASES AND WORSE REMEDIES LETTERS TO THE " TIMES " OX MR. BOOTH'S SCHEME. WITH A PREFACE AND INTRODUCTORY ESSAY [1891] PREFACE The letters which are here collected together were published in the " Times " in the course of the months of December, 1890, and January, 1891. The circumstances whicli led me to write the first letter are sufficiently set forth in its oi^ening sentences ; and the materials on which I based my criticisms of Mr. Booth's scheme, in this and in the second letter, were wholly derived from Mr. Booth's book. I had some reason to know, how- evei*, that when anybody allows his sense of duty so far to prevail over his sense of the blessedness of peace as to write a letter to the " Times/' on V SOCIAL DISEASES AND WORSE REMEDIES 189 any subject of public interest, his reflections, be- fore he has done with the business, will be very like those of Johnny Gilpin, " who little thought, when he set out, of running such a rig." Such undoubtedly are mine when I contemj^late these twelve documents, and call to mind the distinct ad- dition to the revenue of the Post Office which must have accrued from the mass of letters and pamphlets which have been delivered at my door; to say nothing of the unexpected light upon my character, motives, and doctrines, which has been thrown by some of the " Times' " corre- spondents, and by no end of comments elsewhere. If self-knowledge is the highest aim of man, I ought by this time to have little to learn. And yet, if I am awake, some of my teachers — unable, perhaps, to control the divine fire of the poetic imagination which is so closely akin to, if not a part of, the mythopoeic faculty — have surely dreamed dreams. So far as my humbler and essentially prosaic faculties of observation and comparison go, plain facts are against them. But, as I may be mistaken, I have thought it well to prefix to the letters (by way of " Prolegomena ") an essay which appeared in the " Nineteenth Century" for January, 1888, in which the prin- ciples that, to my mind, lie at the bottom of the " social question " are stated. So far as Indi- vidualism and Regimental Socialism are con- cerned, this paper simply emphasizes and expands 190 SOCIAL DISEASES AND v the opinions expressed in an address to the members of the Midland Institute, dehvered seventeen years earher, and still more fully developed in several essays published in the " Nineteenth Century" in 1889, which I hope, before long, to republish.^ The fundamental proposition which runs through the writings, which thus extend over a period of twenty years, is, that the common a 'priori doctrines and methods of reasoning about political and social questions are essentiall}' vicious ; and that argumentation on this basis leads, with equal logical force, to two contradictory and extremely mischievous systems, the one that of Anarchic Individualism, the other that of despotic or Regimental Socialism. Whether I am right or wrong, I am at least consistent in opposing both to the best of my ability. Mr. Booth's system aj)pears to me, and, as I have shown, is regarded by Socialists themselves, to be mere autocratic Socialism, masked by its theo- logical exterior. That the " fantastic " religious skin will wear away, and the Socialistic reality it covers will show its real nature, is the expressed hope of one candid Socialist, and may be fairly conceived to be the unexpressed belief of the despotic leader of the new Trades Union, who has shown his zeal, if not his discretion, in cham- pioning Mr. Booth's projects. [See Letter VIII.] 1 See Collected Essays, vol. i. p. 290 to end ; and this volume, p. 147. V WORSE REMEDIES 191 Yet another word to commentatoi-s upon ni}^ letters. There are some wlio rather chuckle, and some who sneer, at what they seem to consider the dexterity of an " old controversial hand," exhibited by the contrast which I have drawn between the methods of conversion depicted in the New Testament and those pursued by fanatics of the Salvationist type, whether they be such as are now exploited by Mr. Booth, or such as those who, from the time of the Ana- baptists, to go no further back, have worked upon similar lines. Whether such observations were intended to be flattering or sarcastic, I must respectfully decline to accept the compliment, or to apply the sarcasm to myself. I object to obliquity of pro- cedure and ambiguity of speech in all shapes. And I confess that I find it difficult to understand the state of mind which leads any one to suppose, that deep respect for single-minded devotion to high aims is incompatible with the unhesitating conviction that those aims include the jDropagation of doctrines which are devoid of foundation — perhaps even mischievous. The most degrading feature of the narrower forms of Christianity (of which that professed by Mr. Booth is a notable example) is their insistence that the noblest virtues, if displayed by those who reject their pitiable formula3, are, as their pet phrase goes, " splendid sins." But there is, 192 SOCIAL DISEASES AXD v perhaps, one step lower; and that is that men, who profess freedom of thought, should fail to see and appreciate that large soul of goodness which often animates even the fanatical adherents of such tenets. I am sorry for any man who can read the epistles to the Galatians and the Corin- thians without pelding a large meed of admiration to the fervent humanity of Paul of Tarsus ; who can study the lives of Francis of Assisi, or of Catherine of Siena, without wishing that, for the furtherance of his o^^Tl ideals, he might be even as they ; or who can contemplate unmoved the steadfast veracity and true heroism which loom through the fogs of mystical utterance in George Fox. In all these gi'eat men and women there lay the root of the matter ; a burning desire to amend the condition of their fellow-men, and to put aside all other things for that end. If, in spite of all the dogmatic helps or hindrances in which they were entangled, these people are not to be held in high honour, who are ? I have never expressed a doubt — for I have none — that, when Mr. Booth left the Methodist connection, and started that organisation of the Salvation Army upon which, comparatively re- cently, such ambitious schemes of social reform have been grafted, he may have deserved some share of such honour. I do not say that, so far as his personal desires and intentions go, he may not still deserve it. V WORSE REMEDIES 193 But the correlate of despotic authority is unlimited responsibility. If Mr. Booth is to take credit for any good that the Army system has effected, he must be prepared to bear blame for its inherent evils. As it seems to me, that has happened to him which sooner or later happens to all despots : he has become the slave of his own creation — the prosperity and glory of the soul-saving machine have become the end, instead of a means, of soul-saving ; and to maintain these at the proper pitch, the " General " is led to do things which the Mr. Booth of twenty years ago would probably have scorned. And those who desire, as I most emphatically desire, to be just to Mr. Booth, however badly they may think of the working of the organisation he has founded, will bear in mind that some astute backers of his probably care little enough for Salvationist religion ; and, perhaps, are not very keen about many of Mr. Booth's projects. I have referred to the rubbing of the hands of the Socialists over Mr. Booth's success ;^ but, unless I err greatly, there are politicians of a certain school to whom it affords still greater satisfaction. Consider what electioneering agents the captains of the Salvation Army, scattered through all our towns, and directed from a political " bureau " in London, would make ! Think how political adversaries could be harassed by our local 1 See Letter Fill. VOL. IX O 194 SOCIAL DISEASES AND WORSE REMEDIES v attorney — " tribune of the people," I mean ; and how a troublesome man, on the other side, could be " hunted down " upon any convenient charge, whether true or false, brought by our Vigilance- familiar ! ^ I entirely acquit Mr. Booth of any complicity in far-reaching schemes of this kind ; but I did not write idly when, in my first letter, I gave no vague warning of what might grow out of the organised force, drilled in the habit of unhesitating obedience, which he has created. 1 See Utter II. INTRODUCTORY ESSAY THE STRUGGLE FOR EXISTENCE IN HUMAN SOCIETY [1888] The vast and varied procession of events, which we call Nature, affords a sublime spectacle and an inexhaustible wealth of attractive pro- blems to the speculative observer. If we confine our attention to that aspect which engages the attention of the intellect, nature appears a beau- tiful and harmonious whole, the incarnation of a faultless logical process, from certain premisses in the past to an inevitable conclusion in the future. But if it be regarded from a less elevated, though more human, point of view ; if our moral sym- pathies are allowed to influence our judgment, and we permit ourselves to criticize our great mother as we criticize one another ; then our verdict, at least so far as sentient nature is concerned, can hardly be so favourable. In sober truth, to those who have made a o 2 196 THE STRUGGLE FOR EXISTENCE v study of the phenomena of hfe as they are exhibited by the higher forms of the animal world, the optimistic dogma, that this is the best of all possible worlds, will seem little better than a libel upon possibility. It is really only another instance to be added to the many extant, of the audacity of a i^iori speculators who, having created God in their own image, find no difficulty in assuming that the Almighty must have been actuated by the same motives as themselves. They are quite sure that, had any other course been practicable. He would no more have made infinite suffering a necessary ingredient of His handiwork than a respectable philoso23her Avould have done the like. But even the modified optimism of the time- honoured thesis of physico-theology, that the sentient world is, on the whole, regulated by principles of benevolence, does but ill stand the test of impartial confrontation with the facts of the case. No doubt it is quite true that sen- tient nature affords hosts of examples of subtle contrivances directed towards the production of pleasure or the avoidance of pain ; and it may be proper to say that these are evidences of benevo- lence. But if so, why is it not equally proper to say of the equally numerous arrangements, the no less necessary result of which is the production of pain, that they are evidences of malevolence ? If a vast amount of that which, in a piece of human workmanship, we should call skill, is V IN HUMAN SOCIETY 197 visible in those parts of the organization of a deer to which it owes its abiUty to escape from beasts of prey, there is at least equal skill displayed in that bodily mechanism of the wolf which enables him to track, and sooner or later to bring down, the deer. Viewed under the dry light of science, deer and wolf are alike admirable ; and, if both were non-sentient automata, there would be nothing to qualify our admiration of the action of the one on the other. But the fact that the deer suffers, while the wolf inflicts suffering, engages our moral sympathies. We should call men like the deer innocent and good, men such as the wolf malignant and bad; we should call those who defended the deer and aided him to escape brave and compassionate, and those who helped the wolf in his bloody work base and cruel. Surely, if we transfer these judgments to nature outside the world of man at all, we must do so impartially. In that case, the goodness of the right hand which helps the deer, and the wickedness of the left hand which eggs on the wolf, will neutralize one another : and the course of nature will appear to be neither moral nor immoral, but non-moral. This conclusion is thrust upon us by analogous facts in every part of the sentient world ; yet, in- asmuch as it not only jars upon prevalent pre- judices, but arouses the natural dislike to that which is painful, much ingenuity has been exercised in devising an escape from it. 198 THE STRUGGLE FOR EXISTENCE v From the theological side, we are told that this is a state of probation, and that the seeming- injustices and immorahties of nature will be com- pensated by and by. But how this compensation is to be effected, in the case of the great majority of sentient things, is not clear. I apprehend that no one is seriously prepared to maintain that the ghosts of all the mjTiads of generations of her- bivorous animals which Hved during the millions of years of the earth's duration, before the appear- ance of man, and which have all that time been tormented and devoured by carnivores, are to be compensated by a perennial existence in clover; while the ghosts of carnivores are to go to some kennel where there is neither a panof Avaternor a bone with any meat on it. Besides, from the point of view of morality, the last stage of things would be worse than the first. For the carnivores, however brutal and sanguinary, have only done that which, if there is any evidence of contrivance in the world, they were expressly constructed to do. Moreover, carnivores and herbivores alike have been subject to all the miseries incidental to old age, disease, and over-multiplication, and both might well put in a claim for "compensation" on this score. On the evolutionist side, on the other hand, we are told to take comfort from the reflection that the terrible struggle for existence tends to final good, and that the suffering of the ancestor is paid for by the increased perfection of the progeny. There would be something in this argument if, in V IN HUMAN SOCIETY 199 Chinese fashion, the present generation could pay its debts to its ancestors ; otherwise it is not clear what compensation the Eohipinis gets for his sorrows in the fact that, some millions of years afterwards, one of his descendants wins the Derby. And, again, it is an error to imagine that evolution signifies a constant tendency to increased perfec- tion. That process undoubtedly involves a constant re-modelling of the organism in adaptation to new conditions ; but it depends on the nature of those conditions whether the direction of the modifi- cations effected shall be upward or downward. Retrogressive is as practicable as progressive metamorphosis. If what the physical philosophers tell us, that our globe has been in a state of fusion, and, like the sun, is gradually cooling down, is true ; then the time must come when evolution will mean adaptation to an universal winter, and all forms of life will die out, except such low and simple organisms as the Diatom of the arctic and antarctic ice and the Protococcus of the red snow. If our globe is proceeding from a condition in which it was too hot to support any but the lowest living thing to a condition in which it will be too cold to permit of the existence of any others, the course of life upon its surface must describe a trajectory like that of a ball fired from a mortar; and the sinking half of that course is as much a part of the general process of evolution as the rising. From the point of view of the moralist the 200 THE STRUGGLE FOR EXISTENCE v animal world is on about the same level as a gladiator's show. The creatures are fairly Avell treated, and set to fight — whereby the strongest, the swiftest, and the cunningest live to fight another day. The spectator has no need to turn his thumbs down, as no quarter is given. He must admit that the skill and training displayed are wonderful. But he must shut his eyes if he would not see that more or less enduring suffering is the meed of both vanquished and victor. And since the great game is going on in every corner of the world, thousands of times a minute ; since, were our ears sharp enough, we need not descend to the orates of hell to hear — o sospiri, pianti, ed alti giiai. Voci alte e fioche, e suon di man con elle — it seems to follow that, if this world is governed by benevolence, it must be a different sort of benevolence from that of John Howard. But the old Babylonians wisely symbolized Nature by their great goddess Istar, who combined the attributes of Aphrodite with those of Ares. Her terrible aspect is not to be ignored or covered up with shams ; but it is not the only one. If the optimism of Leibnitz is a foolish though pleasant dream, the pessimism of Schopenhauer is a nightmare, the more foolish because of its hideousness. Error which is not pleasant is surely the worst form of wrong. V IN HUMAN SOCIETY 201 This may not be the best of all possible worlds, but to say that it is the worst is mere petulant nonsense. A worn-out voluptuary may find nothing good under the sun, or a vain and inexperienced 3^outh, who cannot get the moon he cries for, may vent his irritation in pessimistic meanings ; but there can be no doubt in the mind of any reasonable person that mankind could, would, and in fact do, get on foirly well with vastly less happiness and far more misery than find their way into the lives of nine people out of ten. If each and all of us had been visited by an attack of neuralgia, or of extreme mental depression, for one hour in every twenty-four — a supposition which many tolerably vigorous people know, to their cost, is not extravagant — the burden of life would have been immensely increased without much practical hindrance to its general course. Men with any manhood in them find life quite worth living under worse conditions than these. There is another sufficiently obvious fact, which renders the hypothesis that the course of sentient nature is dictated by malevolence quite untenable. A vast multitude of pleasures, and these among tlie purest and the best, are superfluities, bits of good which are to all appearance unneces- sary as inducements to live, and are, so to speak, thrown into the bargain of life. To those who experience them, few delights can be more 202 THE STRUGGLE FOR EXISTENCE y entrancing than such as are afforded by natural beauty, or by the arts, and especially by music ; but they are products of, rather than factors in, evolution, and it is probable that they are known, in any considerable degree, to but a very small proportion of mankind. The conclusion of the whole matter seems to be that, if Ormuzd has not had his way in this world, neither has Ahriman. Pessimism is as little consonant with the facts of sentient existence as optimism. If we desire to represent the course of nature in terms of human thought, and assume that it was intended to be that which it is, we must say that its governing principle is intellectual and not moral ; that it is a material- ized logical process, accompanied by pleasures and pains, the incidence of which, in the majority of cases, has not the slightest reference to moral desert. That the rain falls alike upon the just and the unjust, and that those upon whom the Tower of Siloam fell were no worse than their neighbours, seem to be Oriental modes of expressing the same conclusion. In the strict sense of the word "nature," it denotes the sum of the phenomenal world, of that which has been, and is, and will be ; and society, like art, is therefore a part of nature. But it is convenient to distinguish those parts of nature in which man plays the part of immediate cause, as V IN HITMAN SOCIETY 203 something apart ; and, therefore, society, Hke art, is usefully to be considered as distinct from nature. It is the more desirable, and even necessary, to make this distinction, since society differs from nature in having a definite moral object ; whence it comes about that the course shaped by the ethical man — the member of society or citizen — necessarily runs counter to that which the non-ethical man — the primitive savage, or man as a mere member of the animal kingdom — tends to adopt. The latter fights out the struggle for existence to the bitter end, like any other animal ; the former devotes his best energies to the object of setting limits to the struggle.^ In the cycle of phenomena presented by the life of man, the animal, no more moral end is discernible than in that presented by the lives of the wolf and of the deer. However imperfect the relics of prehistoric men may be, the evidence which they afford clearly tends to the conclusion that, for thousands and thousands of years, before the origin of the oldest known civilizations, men were savages of a very low type. They strove with their enemies and their competitors ; they preyed upon things weaker or less cunning than themselves ; they were born, multiplied without stint, and died, for thousands of generations, alongside the mammoth, the urus, the lion, and ^ [The reader will observe that this is the argument of the Romanes Lecture, in brief. — 1894.] 204 THE STRUGGLE FOR EXISTENCE v the hyaena, whose Hves were spent in the same way; and they were no more to be praised or blamed, on moral grounds, than their less erect and more hairy compatriots. As among these, so among primitive men, the weakest and stupidest went to the wall, while the toughest and shrewdest, those who were best fitted to cojDe with their circvimstances, but not the best in any other sense, survived. Life was a continual free fight, and beyond the limited and temporary relations of the family, the Hobbesian war of each against all was the normal state of existence. The human species, like others, plashed and floundered amid the general stream of evolution, keeping its head above water as it best might, and thinking neither of whence nor whither. The history of civilization — that is, of society — on the other hand, is the record of the attempts which the human race has made to escape from this position. The first men who substituted the state of mutual peace for that of mutual war, whatever the motive which impelled them to take that step, created society. But, in establish- ing peace, they obviously put a limit upon the struggle for existence. Between the members of that society, at any rate, it was not to be pursued a outran ce. And of all the successive shapes which society has taken, that most nearly approaches perfection in which the war of indi- vidual against individual is most strictly limited. V IN HUMAN SOCIETY 205 The primitive savage, tutored by Istar, appro- priated whatever took his fancy, and killed whomsoever opposed him, if he could. On the contrary, the ideal of the ethical man is to limit his freedom of action to a sphere in which he does not interfere with the freedom of others ; he seeks the common weal as much as his own ; and, indeed, as an essential part of his own welfare. Peace is both end and means with him ; and he founds his life on a more or less complete self- restraint, which is the negation of the unlimited struggle for existence. He tries to escape from his place in the animal kingdom, founded on the free development of the principle of non- moral evolution, and to establish a kingdom of Man, governed upon the principle of moral evolution. For society not only has a moral end, but in its perfection, social life, is embodied morality. But the effort of ethical man to work towards a moral end by no means abolished, perhaps has hardly modified, the deep-seated organic impulses which impel the natural man to follow his non- moral course. One of the most essential condi- tions, if not the chief cause, of the struggle for existence, is the tendency to multiply without limit, which man shares with all living things. It is notable that "increase and multiply" is a commandment traditionally much older than the ten ; and that it is, perhaps, the only one which 206 THE STRUGGLE FOR EXISTENCE v has been spontaneously and ex animo obeyed by the gi'eat majority of the human race. But, in civilized society, the inevitable result of such obedience is the re-establishment, in all its inten- sity, of that struggle for existence — the war of each against all — the mitigation or abolition of which was the chief end of social organisation. It is conceivable that, at some period in the history of the fabled Atlantis, the production of food should have been exactly sufficient to meet the wants of the population, that the makers of the commodities of the artificer should have amounted to just the number supportable by the surplus food of the agriculturists. And, as there is no harm in adding another monstrous supposition to the foregoing, let it be imagined that every man, woman, and child was perfectly virtuous, and aimed at the good of all as the highest personal good. In that happy land, the natural man would have been finally put down by the ethical man. There would have been no competition, but the industry of each would have been serviceable to all ; nobody being vain and nobody avaricious, there would have been no rivalries ; the struggle for existence would have been abolished, and the millennium would have finally set in. But it is obvious that this state of things could have been permanent only with a stationary population. Add ten fresh mouths ; and as, by the supposition, there was V IN HUMAN SOCIETY 207 only exactly enough before, somebody must go on short rations. The Atlantis society might have been a heaven upon earth, the whole nation might have consisted of just men, needing no repentance, and yet somebody must starve. Eeck- less Istar, non-moral Nature, would have riven the ethical fabric. I was once talking Avith a very eminent physician^ about the vis mcdicatrix natuTcc. " Stuff ! " said he ; " nine times out of ten nature does not want to cure the man : she wants to put him in his coffin." And Istar- Nature appears to have equally little sympathy with the ends of society. " Stuff ! she wants nothing but a fair field and free play for her darling the strongest." Our Atlantis may be an impossible figment, but the antagonistic tendencies which the fable adumbrates have existed in every society which was ever established, and, to all appearance, must strive for the victory in all that will be. Histor- ians point to the greed and ambition of rulers, to the reckless turbulence of the ruled, to the debasing effects of wealth and luxury, and to the devastating wars which have formed a great part of the occupation of mankind, as the causes of the decay of states and the foundering of old civilisations, and thereby point their story with a moral. No doubt immoral motives of all sorts have figured largely among the minor 1 The late Sir W. GuU. 208 THE STRUGGLE FOR EXISTENCE y causes of these events. But beneath all this superficial turmoil lay the deep-seated impulse given by unlimited multiplication. In the swarms of colonies thrown out by Phoenicia and by old Greece ; in the vcr sacrum of the Latin races ; in the floods of Gauls and of Teutons which burst over the frontiers of the old civilisation of Europe ; in the swaying to and fro of the vast Mongolian hordes in late times, the popula- tion problem comes to the front in a very visible shape. Nor is it less plainly manifest in the everlasting agrarian questions of ancient Rome than in the AiTeoi societies of the Polynesian Islands. In the ancient world, and in a large part of that in which we live, the practice of in- fanticide was, or is, a regular and legal custom ; famine, pestilence, and war were and are normal factors in the struggle for existence, and they have served, in a gross and brutal fashion, to mitigate the intensity of the effects of its chief cause. But, in the more advanced civilisations, the progress of private and public morality has steadily tended to remove all these checks. We declare infanticide murder, and punish it as such ; we decree, not quite so successfully, that no one shall die of hunger; we regard death from pre- ventive causes of other kinds as a sort of construc- tive murder, and eliminate pestilence to the best V IN HUMAN SOCIETY 209 of our ability; we declaim against the curse of war, and the wickedness of the military spirit, and we are never weary of dilating on the blessedness of peace and the innocent beneficence of Industry. In their moments of expansion, even statesmen and men of business go thus far. The finer spirits look to an ideal civitas Dei ; a state when every man, having reached the point of absolute self-negation, and having nothing but moral perfec- tion to strive after, peace will truly reign, not merely among nations, but among men, and the struggle for existence will be at an end. Whether human nature is competent, under any circumstances, to reach, or even seriously advance towards, this ideal condition, is a question which need not be discussed. It will be admitted that mankind has not yet reached this stage by a very long way, and my business is with the pres- ent. And that which I wish to point out is that, so long as the natural man increases and multi- plies without restraint, so long will peace and industry not only permit, but they will necessi- tate, a struggle for existence as sharp as any that ever went on under the regime of war. If Istar is to reign on the one hand, she will demand her human sacrifices on the other. Let us look at home. For seventy years peace and industry have had their way among us with less interruption and under more favourable conditions than in any other country on the VOL. IX P 210 THE STRUGGLE FOR EXISTENCE v face of the earth. The wealth of Croesus was nothing to that which we have accumulated, and our prosperity has filled the world with envy. But Nemesis did not forget Croesus : has she for- gotten us ? I think not. There are now 36,000,000 of people in our islands, and every year considerably more than 300,000 are added to our numbers.^ That is to say, about every hundred seconds, or so, a new claimant to a share in the common stock of maintenance presents him or herself among us. At the present time, the produce of the soil does not suffice to feed half its population. The other moiety has to be supplied with food which must be bought from the people of food-producing countries. That is to say, we have to offer them the things which they want in exchange for the things we want. And the things they want and which we can produce better than they can are mainly manufactures — industrial j^roducts. The insolent reproach of the first Napoleon had a very solid foundation. We not only are, but, under penalty of starvation, we are bound to be, a nation of shopkeepers. But other nations also lie under the same necessity of keeping shop, and some of them deal in the same goods as ourselves. 1 These numbers are only approximately accurate. In 1881, our population amounted to 35,241,482, exceeding the number in 1871 hy 3,396,103. The average annual increase in the decennial period 1871—1881 is therefore 339,610. The number of minutes in a calendar year is 525,600. V IN HUMAN SOCIETY 211 Our customers naturally seek to get the most and the best in exchange for their produce. If our goods are inferior to those of our competitors, there is no ground, compatible with the sanity of the buyers, which can be alleged, why they should not prefer the latter. And, if that result should ever take place on a large and general scale, five or six millions of us would soon have nothing to eat. We know what the cotton famine was ; and we can therefore form some notion of what a dearth of customers would be. Judged by an ethical standard, nothing can be less satisfactory than the position in which we find ourselves. In a real, though incomplete, degree we have attained the condition of peace which is the main object of social organization ; and, for argument's sake, it may be assumed that we desire nothing but that which is in itself innocent and praiseworthy — namely, the enjoyment of the fruits of honest industry. And lo 1 in spite of ourselves, we are in reality engaged in an inter- necine struggle for existence with our presumably no less peaceful and well-meaning neighbours. We seek peace and we do not ensue it. The moral nature in us asks for no more than is com- jiatible with the general good; the non-moral nature proclaims and acts upon that fine old Scottish family motto, " Thou shalt starve ere I want." Let us be under no illusions, then. So long as unlimited multiplication goes on, no social organization which has ever been devised, or is p 2 212 THE STRUGGLE FOR EXISTENCE v likely to be devised, no fiddle-faddling with the distribution of wealth, will deliver society from the tendency to be destroyed by the reproduction within itself, in its intensest form, of that struggle for existence the limitation of which is the object of societ}^ And however shocking to the moral sense this eternal competition of man against man and of nation against nation may be ; however revolting may be the accumulation of misery at the negative pole of society, in contrast with that of monstrous wealth at the positive pole ; ^ this state of things must abide, and grow continually worse, so long as Istar holds her way unchecked. It is the true riddle of the Sphinx; and every nation which does not solve it will sooner or later be devoured by the monster itself has generated. The practical and pressing question for us, just now, seems to me to be how to gain time. " Time brings counsel," as the Teutonic proverb has it ; and wiser folk among our posterity may see their way out of that which at present looks like an impasse. It would be folly to entertain any ill-feeling towards those neighbours and rivals who, hke ourselves, are slaves of Istar ; but, if somebody is to be starved, the modem world has no Oracle of Delphi to which the nations can appeal for an indication of the victim. It is open to us to try ^ [It is hard to say whether the increase of the imemj)loyed poor, or that of the unemployed rich, is the greater social evil.— 1894.] V IN HUMAN SOCIETY 213 our fortune ; and, if we avoid impending fate, there will be a certain ground for believing that we are the right people to escape. Securus judicat orhis. To this end, it is well to look into the necessary conditions of our salvation by works. They are two, one plain to all the world and hardly needing insistence ; the other seemingly not so plain, since too often it has been theoretically and prac- tically left out of sight. The obvious condition is that our produce shall be better than that of others. There is only one reason why our goods should be preferred to those of our rivals — our customers must find them better at the price. That means that we must use more knowledge, skill, and industry in producing them, without a proportionate increase in the cost of production ; and, as the price of labour constitutes a large element in that cost, the rate of wages must be restricted within certain limits. It is perfectly true that cheap production and cheap labour are by no means synonymous ; but it is also true that wages cannot increase beyond a certain proportion without destroying cheapness. Cheapness, then, with, as part and parcel of cheapness, a moderate price of labour, is essential to our success as competitors in the markets of the world. The second condition is really quite as plainly indispensable as the first, if one thinks seriously about the matter. It is social stability. Society 214 THE STRUGGLE FOR EXISTENCE v is stable, when the wants of its members obtain as much satisfaction as, Hfe being what it is, common sense and experience show may be reasonably expected. Mankind, in general, care very little for forms of government or ideal considerations of an}^ sort; and nothing really stirs the great multitude to break with custom and incur the manifest perils of revolt excejDt the belief that misery in this world, or damnation in the next, or both, are threatened by the continu- ance of the state of things in which they have been brought up. But when they do attain that conviction, society becomes as unstable as a package of dynamite, and a very small matter will produce the explosion which sends it back to the chaos of savager}^ It needs no argument to prove that when the price of labour sinks below a certain point, the worker infallibly falls into that condition which the French emphatically call la misere — a word for which I do not think there is any exact EngHsh equivalent. It is a condition in which the food, warmth, and clothing which are necessary for the mere maintenance of the functions of the body in their normal state cannot be obtained ; in which men, women, and children are forced to crowd into dens wherein decency is abolished and the most ordinary conditions of healthful exist- ence are impossible of attainment ; in which the pleasures within reach are reduced to bestiality V IN HUMAN SOCIETY 215 and drunkenness ; in wliich the pains accumulate at compound interest, in the shape of starvation, disease, stunted development, and moral degrada- tion ; in which the prospect of even steady and honest industry is a life of unsuccessful battling with hunger, rounded by a pauper's grave. That a certain proportion of the members of every great aggregation of mankind should con- stantly tend to establish and populate such a Slough of Despond as this is inevitable, so long as some people are by nature idle and vicious, while others are disabled by sickness or accident, or thrown upon the world by the death of their bread-winners. So long as that proportion is restricted within tolerable limits, it can be dealt with ; and, so far as it arises only from such causes, its existence may and must be patiently borne. But, when the organization of society, instead of mitigating this tendency, tends to continue and intensify it ; when a given social order plainly makes for evil and not for good, men naturally enough begin to think it high time to try a fresh experiment. The animal man, finding that the ethical man has landed him in such a slough, resumes his ancient sovereignty, and preaches anarchy ; which is, substantially, a proposal to reduce the social cosmos to chaos, and begin the brute struggle for existence once again. Any one who is acquainted with the state of the population of all great industrial centres, 216 THE STRUGGLE FOR EXISTENCE v whether in this or other countries, is aware that, amidst a large and increasing body of that pojm- lation, la misere reigns supreme. I have no pretensions to the character of a philanthropist, and I have a special horror of all sorts of senti- mental rhetoric ; I am merely trying to deal with facts, to some extent within my own knowledge, and further evidenced by abundant testimony, as a naturalist ; and I take it to be a mere plain truth that, throughout industrial Europe, there is not a single large manufacturing city which is free from a vast mass of people whose condition is exactly that described ; and from a still greater mass who, living just on the edge of the social swamp, are liable to be precipitated into it by any lack of demand for their produce. And, with every addition to the population, the multitude already sunk in the pit and the number of the host sliding towards it continually increase. Argumentation can hardly be needful to make it clear that no society in which the elements of decomposition are thus swiftly and surely accumu- lating can hope to win in the race of industries. Intelligence, knowledge, and skill are undoubt- edly conditions of success ; but of what avail are they likely to be unless they are backed up by honesty, energy, goodwill, and all the physical and moral faculties that go to the making of manhood, and unless they are stimulated by hope of such reward as men may fairly look to ? And what V IN HUMAN SOCIETY 217 dweller in the slough of want, dwarfed in hody and soul, demoralized, hopeless, can reasonably be exjDOcted to jDossess these qualities ? Any full and permanent development of the productive powers of an industrial population, then, must be compatible with and, indeed, based upon a social organization which will secure a fair amount of physical and moral welfare to that popu- lation ; which will make for good and not for evil. Natural science and religious enthusiasm rarely go hand in hand, but on this matter their concord is complete; and the least sympathetic of natural- ists can but admire the insight and the devotion of such social reformers as the late Lord Shaftesbury, whose recently i^ublished " Life and Letters " gives a vivid picture of the condition of the working classes fifty years ago, and of the pit which our industry, ignoring these plain truths, was then digging under its own feet. There is, perhaps, no more hopeful sign of progress among us, in the last half-century, than the steadily increasing devotion which has been and is directed to measures for promoting physical and moral welfare among the poorer classes. Sanitary reformers, like most other reformers whom I have had the advantage of knowing, seem to need a good dose of fanaticism, as a sort of moral coca, to keep them up to the mark, and, doubtless, they have made many mistakes ; but that the endeavour to imjjrove the condition under 218 THE STRUGGLE FOR EXISTENCE v which our industrial population live, to amend the drainage of densely jDeopled streets, to provide baths, washhouses, and gymnasia, to facilitate habits of thrift, to furnish some provision for instruction and amusement in i^ublic libraries and the like, is not only desirable from a philanthropic point of view, but an essential condition of safe industrial development, appears to me to be indis- putable. It is by such means alone, so far as I can see, that we can hope to check the constant gravitation of industrial society towards la misere, until the general progTess of intelligence and morality leads men to grapple with the sources of that tendency. If it is said that the carrying out of such arrangements as those indicated must enhance the cost of production, and thus handicap the producer in the race of competition, I venture, in the first place, to doubt the fact ; but if it be so, it results that industrial society has to face a dilemma, either alternative of which threatens destruction. On the one hand, a population the labour of which is sufficiently remunerated may be physically and morally healthy and socially stable, but may fail in industrial competition by reason of the dearness of its produce. On the other hand, a population the labour of which is insufficiently remunerated must become physically and morally unhealthy, and socially unstable ; and though it may succeed for a while in industrial competition, by reason of the V IN HUMAN SOCIETY 219 cheapness of its produce, it must in the end fall, through hideous misery and degradation, to utter ruin. Well, if these are the only possible alternatives, let us for ourselves and our children choose the former, and, if need be, starve like men. But I do not believe that a stable society made up of healthy, vigorous, instructed, and self-ruling people would ever incur serious risk of that fate. They are not likely to be troubled with many competi- tors of the same character, just yet; and they may be safely trusted to find ways of holding their own. Assuming that the physical and moral well- being and the stable social order, which are the indispensable conditions of permanent industrial development, are secured, there remains for consideration the means of attaining that know- ledge and skill without Avliich, even then, the battle of competition cannot be successfully fought. Let us consider how we stand. A vast system of elementary education has now been in operation among us for sixteen years, and has reached all but a very small fraction of the population. I do not think that there is any room for doubt that, on the whole, it has worked well, and that its indirect no less than its direct benefits have been immense. But, as might be expected, it exhibits the defects of all our educational systems — fashioned as they were to 220 THE STRUGGLE FOR EXISTENCE v meet the wants of a bygone condition of society. There is a widespread and, I think, well-justified complaint that it has too much to do with books and too little to do with things. I am as little disposed as any one can well be to narrow early education and to make the primary school a mere annexe of the shop. And it is not so much in the interests of industry, as in that of breadth of culture, that I echo the common complaint against the bookish and theoretical character of our primary instruction. If there were no such things as industrial ]3ursuits, a system of education which does nothing for the faculties of observation, which trains neither the eye nor the hand, and is com- patible with utter ignorance of the commonest natural truths, might still be reasonably regarded as strangely imperfect. And when we consider that the instruction and training which are lacking are exactly those which are of most importance for the great mass of our population, the fault becomes almost a crime, the more that there is no practical difficulty in making good these defects. There really is no reason why drawing should not be universally taught, and it is an admirable training for both eye and hand. Artists are born, not made ; but everybody may be taught to draw elevations, plans, and sections ; and pots and pans are as good, indeed better, models for this purpose than the Apollo Belvedere. V IN HUMAN SOCIETY 221 The plant is not expensive ; and there is this excellent quality about drawing of the kind indicated, that it can be tested almost as easily and severely as arithmetic. Such drawings are either right or wrong, and if they are wrong the pupil can be made to see that they are wrong. From the industrial point of view, drawing has the further merit that there is hardly any trade in which the power of drawing is not of daily and hourly utility. In the next place, no good reason, except the want of capable teachers, can be assigned why elementary notions of science should not be an element in general instruction. In this case, again, no expensive or elaborate ap- paratus is necessary. The commonest thing — a candle, a boy's squirt, a piece of chalk — in the hands of a teacher who knows his business, may be made the starting-points whence children may be led into the regions of science as far as their capacity permits, with efficient exercise of their observational and reasoning faculties on the road. If object lessons often prove trivial failures, it is not the fault of object lessons, but that of the teacher, who has not found out how much the power of teaching a little depends on knowing a great deal, and that thoroughly ; and that he has not made that discovery is not the fault of the teachers, but of the detestable system of training them which is widely prevalent.^ ^ Training in the use of simple tools is no doubt very desir- 222 THE STRUGGLE FOR EXISTENCE v As I have said, I do not regard the proposal to add these to the present subjects of universal instruction as made merely in the interests of industry. Elementary science and drawing are just as needful at Eton (where I am happy to say both are now parts of the regular course) as in the lowest primary school. But their importance in the education of the artisan is enhanced, not merely by the fact that the knowledge and skill thus gained — little as they may amount to — will still be of practical utility to him ; but, further, because they constitute an introduction to that special training which is commonly called " tech- nical education." I conceive that our wants in this last direction may be grouped under three heads : (1) In- struction in the principles of those branches of science and of art which are peculiarly applicable to industrial pursuits, which may be called preliminary scientific education. (2) Instruction in the special branches of such applied science and art, as technical education proper. (3) Instruction of teachers in both these branches. (4) Capacity-catching machinery. A great deal has already been done in each of these directions, but much remains to be done. able, on all grounds. From the ])ointof view of "culture," the man whose "fingers are all thumbs" is but a stunted creature. But the practical difficulties in the way of introducing handi- work of this kind into elementary schools appear to me to be considerable. V IN HUMAN SOCIETY 223 If elementary education is amended in the way that has been suggested, I think that the school- boards will have quite as much on their hands as they are capable of doing well. The influences under which the members of these bodies are elected do not tend to secure fitness for dealing with scientific or technical education ; and it is the less necessary to burden them with an un- congenial task, as there are other organizations, not only much better fitted to do the work, but already actually doing it. In the matter of preliminary scientific educa- tion, the chief of these is the Science and Art Department, which has done more during the last quarter of a century for the teaching of ele- mentary science among the masses of the people than any organization which exists either in this or in any other country. It has become veritably a people's university, so far as physical science is concerned. At the foundation of our old uni- versities they were freely open to the poorest, but the poorest must come to them. In the last quarter of a century, the Science and Art Depart- ment, by means of its classes spread all over the country and open to all, has conveyed instruction to the poorest. The University Extension move- ment shows that our older learned corporations have discovered the propriety of following suit. Technical education, in the strict sense, has become a necessity for two reasons. The old 224 THE STRUGGLE FOR EXISTENCE v apprenticeship 53^stem has broken down, partly by reason of the changed conditions of industrial life, and partly because trades have ceased to be "crafts," the traditional secrets whereof the master handed down to his apprentices. Inven- tion is constantly changing the face of our industries, so that " use and wont," " rule of thumb," and the like, are gradually losing their importance, while that knowledge of principles which alone can deal successfully with changed conditions is becoming more and more valuable. Socially, the " master " of four or five apprentices is disappearing in favour of the " employer " of forty, or four hundred, or four thousand, " hands," and the odds and ends of technical knowledge, formerly picked up in a shop, are not, and cannot be, supplied in the factory. The instruction formerly given by the master must therefore be more than replaced by the systematic teaching of the technical school. Institutions of this kind on var}4ng scales of magnitude and completeness, from the splendid edifice set up by the City and Guilds Institute to the smallest local technical school, to say nothing of classes, such as those in technology instituted by the Society of Arts (subsequently taken over by the City Guilds), have been established in various parts of the country, and the movement in favour of their increase and multiplication is rapidly growing in breadth and intensity. But V IN HUMAN SOCIETY 225 there is much difference of opinion as to the best way in which the technical instruction, so generally desired, should be given. Two courses appear to be practicable : the one is the establishment of special technical schools with a systematic and lengthened course of instruction demanding the employment of the whole time of the pupils. The other is the setting afoot of technical classes, especially evening classes, comprising a short series of lessons on some special topic, which may be attended by persons already earning wages in some branch of trade or commerce. There is no doubt that technical schools, on the plan indicated under the first head, are extremely costly; and, so far as the teaching of artizans is concerned, it is very commonly objected to them that, as the learners do not work under trade conditions, they are apt to fall into ama- teurish habits, which prove of more hindrance than service in the actual business of life. When such schools are attached to factories under the direction of an employer who desires to train up a supply of intelligent workmen, of course this objection does not apply ; nor can the usefulness of such schools for the training of future em- ployers and for the higher grade of the employed be doubtful ; but they are clearly out of the reach of the great mass of the people, who liave to earn their bread as soon as possible. We nmst therefore look to the classes, and especially to VOL. IX Q 226 THE STRUGGLE FOR EXISTENCE v evening classes, as the great instrument for the technical education of the artizan. The utility of such classes has now been placed beyond all doubt ; the only question which remains is to find the ways and means of extending them. We are here, as in all other questions of social organization, met by two diametrically opposed views. On the one hand, the methods pursued in foreign countries are held up as our example. The state is exhorted to take the matter in hand, and establish a great sj-stem of technical educa- tion. On the other hand, many economists of the individualist school exhaust the resources of language in condemning and repudiating, not merely the interference of the general government in such matters, but the application of a farthing of the funds raised by local taxation to these purposes. I entertain a strong conviction that, in this country, at any rate, the State had much better leave purely technical and trade instruction alone. But, although my personal leanings are decidedly towards the individualists, I have ar- rived at that conclusion on merely practical grounds. In fact, my individualism is rather of a sentimental sort, and I sometimes think I should be stronger in the faith if it were less vehemently advocated.^ I am unable to see that civil society ' In what follows I am only repeating and emphasizing opinions which I expressed seventeen years ago, in an Address to the members of the Midlan