Fate of Man

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The Fate of Man
BY CRANE BRINTON
History of Western Morals (1959)
The Anatomy of Revolution (1957) Modern Civilization (1957) Portable Age of Reason Reader (1956)
History of Civilization (1955)
The World of History (1954) The Shaping of the Modern Mind (1954) The Temper of Western Europe (1953)
English Political Thought in the Nineteenth Century (1950)
Ideas and
Men
(1950)
The United
States
and Britain (1948)

(1948)
From Many One
Nietzsche (1941) The Lives of Talleyrand (1936) French Revolutionary Legislation on Dlegitimacy (1936) Decade of Revolution (1935)
Political Ideas of the English Romanticists
The Jacobins (1930)

(1926)
THE FATE OF
MAN
Postscript by
Edited with Introductions
and
CRANE BRINTON
GEORGE BRAZILLER NEW YORK 1961
Copyright
1961 by Crane Brinton
All rights reserved
For information, address the publisher: George BrazHler, Inc. 215 Park Avenue South, New York 3, N. Y.
March 1961 October 1962 Third PrintingSeptember 1963 Fourth PrintingFebruary 1965
First Printing
Second Printing
ibrary of Congress Catalog
Card Number: 61-8477
Printed in the United States of America
Acknowledgments
The
editor
and publisher have made every
effort to
of copyright of the selections in this book.

in future
Any
errors or omissions
determine and credit the holders may be rectified
volumes. For permission to use these selections, the editor and publisher
make
grateful
acknowledgment
to the following authors, publishers
and agents, who
reserve all rights for the matter reprinted:
From THE FUTURE OF UNBELIEF by Gerhard

B. Garside. Copyright
Braziller, Inc.
Szczesny. Translated by
Edward
1961 by George Braziller, Inc. By permission of George
From
THE NAVAHO by Clyde Kluckhohn and Dorothea Leighton. Copyright, 1946, by the President and Fellows of Harvard College. By permission of Harvard Uni-
versity Press.
From PROCESS
AND REALITY
by Alfred North Whitehead. Copyright 1929 by

1957.
The Macmillan Company, copyright renewed millan Company.
By permission of The Mac-
From OF STARS
Shapley.
AND MEN by Harlow Shapley. Copyright, , 1958, by Harlow By permission of Beacon Press and Elek Books Limited.
Randall, Jr. Copyright Columbia University York. By permission of Columbia University Press.
Vol. IV, by Walter Farrell, O. P. Copy-
From ARISTOTLE by John Herman

Press,
New
From
A COMPANION TO THE SUMMA,

1942 by Sheed
right,
& Ward. By
permission of Sheed
& Ward,
Inc.
From SKETCH FOR

Noonday
A HISTORICAL PICTURE OF THE HUMAN MIND

By permission
of
by
the Marquis de Condorcet. Translated by Jane Barraclough.

Press; Library of Ideas
The
and Weidenfeld and Nicolson Ltd.
Acknowledgments
From
THE MARXIAN THEORY OF THE STATE by Sherman H. M. Chang. Copyright 1931 by the Author. By permission of University of Pennsylvania Press.
From ETHICS From
AND LANGUAGE
By permission
by Charles L. Stevenson.
of Yale University Press.
1944 By Yale Uni-
versity Press, Inc.
A MODERN THEORY OF ETHICS
by Olaf Stapledon. By permission of
Methuen & Co.
Ltd. and the Executrix of the Estate of Olaf Stapledon.
From THE PERENNIAL PHILOSOPHY by Aldous Huxley. Copyright 1944, 1945 by Aldous Huxley. By permission of Harper & Brothers and Chatto and Windus
Ltd.
From MEISTER ECKHART, a modern translation by Raymond B. Blakney. Copyright 1941 by Harper & Brothers. By permission of Harper & Brothers.
From BLAISE PASCAL by Ernest Mortimer. Copyright 1959 by By permission of Harper & Brothers and Methuen & Co. Ltd. From From
Ernest Mortimer.
THE ANTIGONE OF SOPHOCLES.
right, 1930,
Translated by John Jay Chapman. Copyby John Jay Chapman. By permission of Houghton Mifflin Company. Translated by Louis Kronen-
THE MAXIMS OF LA ROCHEFOUCAULD.
berger.
Copyright 1959 by
Random House,
Inc.
By permission of Random
House, Inc.
From THE LICHTENBERG READER.

and Henry
Hatfield.
Edited and Translated by Franz H. Mautner
By permission
of Beacon Press, Inc.
From
HUMAN NATURE AND THE HUMAN CONDITION
by Joseph
Wood
Krutch.
Inc.
Copyright 1959 by Joseph
Wood
Krutch.
By permission of Random
House,
From IN SEARCH OF
By permission
HUMANITY
by Alfred Cobban.
Alfred Cobban 1960.

Ltd.
of George Braziller, Inc. and Jonathan
Cape
From ISSUES OF FREEDOM by Herbert J. MuUer. Copyright J. MuUer. By permission of Harper & Brothers. From
1960 by Herbert
THE CONFESSIONS OF SAINT AUGUSTINE.

& Ward,
Inc.
Translated by F.
J.
Sheed.
Copyright, 1943, by Sheed
By permission of Sheed & Ward,
Inc.
and
Sheed
& Ward
Ltd.
From BENJAMIN FRANKLIN: THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY AND SELECTIONS FROM HIS OTHER WRITINGS. Farrand edition. Copyright, 1949, by University
of California Press.
By permission
of University of California Press.
From
THE TWO CULTURES AND THE SCIENTIFIC REVOLUTION
by C.
P.
Snow.
C. P. Snow, 1959. By permission of Cambridge University Press.
From THE INTELLECTUALS
edited by George B. de Huszar: America's PostRadical Critics by Harold Rosenberg. (Originally published in The Tradition of 1960 by The the New by Harold Rosenberg, Horizon Press, 1959-60.) Copyright Free Press, a Corporation. By permission of The Free Press, Horizon Press, and
Harold Rosenberg.
From
WORDS AND THINGS
by Ernest Gellner.
1959 by Ernest Gellner. By
permission of Beacon Press and Victor GoUancz, Ltd.
From THE
WAY THINGS ARE
by
P.
dent and Fellows of Harvard College.
W. Bridgman. Copyright 1959 by the By permission of Harvard University
Presi-
Press.
From SOCIALISM: UTOPIAN
AND SCIENTIFIC by Frederick Engels. Translated by Edward AveUng. Copyright, 1935, by International Publishers Co., Inc. By
Dermission of International Publishers.
Vi
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
From THE PATTERN OF THE PAST:

Geyl, Arnold
J.
DETERMINE IT? by Pieter CAN Toynbee, and Pitirim Sorokin. Copyright, 1949, The Beacon Press. By permission of Beacon Press and Uitgeverij F. G. Kroonder.
1959, 1960, THE FUTURE AS HISTORY by Robert Heilbroner. Copyright by Robert L. Heilbroner. By permission of Harper & Brothers and William Morris Agency, Inc.
WE
From
From
THE RECOVERY OF BELIEF
by C. E. M, load. By permission of Faber
and Faber Ltd.
From
AN OUTLINE OF MAN'S KNOWLEDGE OF THE MODERN WORLD
by Lyman Bryson: The Search for Answers by Clarence H. Faust. Copy1960 by Catherine McGrattan Bryson, Executrix of the estate of Lyman Bryson. By permission of Doubleday & Company, Inc., and published by McGrawedited
right
Hill
Book Company,
Inc.
From THE WAY OF ZEN by Alan W. Watts. Copyright 1957 by Pantheon Inc. By permission of Pantheon Books, Inc. and Thames and Hudson Ltd. From
Books,
THE STANDARD EDITION OF THE COMPLETE PSYCHOLOGICAL WORKS OF SIGMUND FREUD. Translated and edited by James Strachey and
Anna
Freud. Translation
Press Ltd., Encyclopaedia Britannica, and
James Strachey 1959. By permission of Hogarth Sigmund Freud Copyrights Ltd.
From THE
NEW AGE OF FAITH

Press,
Inc.,
The Viking
by John Langdon-Davies. Copyright, 1925, by 1953 by John Langdon-Davies. By permission of The by Alexis Carrel. Copyright 1935 by Harper &
Brothers.
Viking Press, Inc.
From
MAN THE UNKNOWN
Brothers.
By permission of Harper &
From ACCENT ON FORM by Lancelot Law Whyte. Copyright 1954 by Lancelot Law Whyte. By permission of Harper & Brothers and Routledge & Kegan Paul Ltd.
From SCIENCE
AND THE HUMAN TEMPERAMENT
Copyright by Erwin Schrodinger 1935. (Copyright Inc. 1957 under the title SCIENCE THEORY George Allen & Unwin Ltd.
by Erwin Schrodinger. by Dover Publications,
AND MAN.)
By permission of
From
WHAT SCIENCE STANDS FOR by Orr, Hill, Philip, Gregory, Hall and Hogben. By permission of George Allen & Unwin Ltd.
HEALTH by Rene Dubos. Copyright 1959 by Rene Dubos. By permission of Harper & Brothers and George Allen & Unwin Ltd.
From MIRAGE OF
From
THE FOREST AND THE SEA by Marston Bates. Copyright 1960 by Marston Bates. By permission of Random House, Inc. and Museum Press Ltd.
From THE
NEXT MILLION YEARS by
Charles Galton Darwin. Copyright 1952 by

Inc.
Charles Galton Darwin.
By permission of Doubleday & Company,
and Rupert
Hart-Davis Ltd.
From POSTHISTORIC
versity of
lina Press.
MAN
North Carolina
Press.
by Roderick Seidenberg. Copyright 1950 by the UniBy permission of The University of North Caro-
From
Encounter, May 1960: "Inventing the Future" by Dennis Gabor. Encounter Ltd. By permission of Encounter.
1960 by
I
it
wish to thank the
many
authors and publishers
who have made
book so much contemporary writing. In particular, I am grateful to Henry Murray, whose provocative Phi Beta Kappa address at Harvard in 1959 set my mind runfor the moment ning on several different tacks, one of which ended with this book. My gratitude may seem at first sight paradoxically near ingratitude, since one of my purposes has been to demonstrate how hard it will be, on these matters of the condition of man, to achieve the refreshing meeting of minds Dr. Murray wants. But I take it that we
possible for to include in this
me
both believe that disagreement must precede agreement in our kind

of society.
The
professional ethics of that singular vocation,
book pub-
lishing, will
not permit
me
to single out
by name the members of the
Braziller staff
they
who have done so much to make this book. I am sure know how grateful I am. Finally, and once more, I wish to thank
Miss Elizabeth F. Hoxie, for invaluable help with type-
my
secretary.
script
and proofs.
CRANE BRINTON
Cambridge, November 15, 1960
Table of Contents
I.
SETTING THE PROBLEM HENRY A. MURRAY

Beyond Yesterday's Idealisms
11
GERHARD SZCZESNY
The Future of Unbelief
19
n.
THE WAY THINGS ARE

A.
Order: Cosmologies, Cosmogonies, Cosmographies
27
31
GENESIS
32
CLYDE KLUCKHOHN
J.
J.
and
DOROTHEA LEIGHTON
37
The Navaho View of Life
M.
DE GROOT
the Universe
The Tao or Order of
45
51
LUCRETIUS
The Formation of
ST.
the
World
AUGUSTINE
57
The Cosmology of Genesis
ALFRED NORTH WHITEHEAD

God and
the
World
63
HARLOW SHAPLEY
Organization in Nature
71
B.
Purpose: Teleologies, Eschatologies
77
PLATO
Priority of the Soul
78
ARISTOTLE
The Order of Being
84
LUCRETIUS
The Universe Not Designed for
ST.
Man
91
THOMAS AQUINAS
96
The End of Life
MARQUIS DE CONDORCET
The Doctrine of Natural Salvation
101
HERBERT SPENCER
Reconciliation of Science
and Religion
112
SHERMAN
H. M.
CHANG
121
The Stateless-Communistic Society of Marxism
X
C.
CONTENTS
Right and Wrong: Ethics
127
THE OLD AND NEW TESTAMENTS

The Ten Commandments The Sermon on the Mount
128 130
PLATO
The Natural Appetites
132
ARISTOTLE
Classification of Virtues
138
EPICTETUS
The Practice of Stoicism
ST. 141
AUGUSTINE
Pagan Ethics
145
Christian vs.
IMMANUEL KANT
The Metaphysics of Morality
155
JEREMY BENTHAM
The Principle of
Utility
161
CHARLES
L.
STEVENSON
164
The Semantic Approach
OLAF STAPLEDON
Moral
Zeal, Disillusion,
and Ecstasy
171
D.
Transcendence: The Mystic Dimension
179
ALDOUS HUXLEY
The Perennial Flight
ST.
180
JOHN OF THE CROSS

185
Practical Advice to the Religious
MEISTER ECKHART
Idealism
191
BLAISE PASCAL
Renunciation
195 199
III.
THE WAY MEN ARE

SOPHOCLES
"What a Thing
Is
Man!"
203
ECCLESL\STES
FRANCOIS,
Aphorisms
205
DUC DE LA ROCHEFOUCAULD
207
ANTHONY, EARL OF SHAFTESBURY

Concerning Enthusiasm
212 218
BERNARD MANDEVILLE
Private Vices, Public
Honor
Contents
xi
JEAN DE LA BRUYERE
Varieties of Character
224
GEORG CHRISTOPH LICHTENBERG

More Aphorisms
229
FRIEDRICH WILHELM NIETZSCHE Human, All Too Human

JOSEPH
234
242
WOOD KRUTCH
Man
Judgment
in Ethical
The Conditioned
The Decline
ALFRED COBBAN
255
HERBERT
ST.
J.
MULLER
Man
261
The Nature of
Confession
AUGUSTINE
270
FRANCOIS,
DUC DE LA ROCHEFOUCAULD
273
Self-Portrait
JEAN JACQUES ROUSSEAU

One Confession Out
Moral Perfection
of
Many
277
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN
285
IV.
THE TWENTIETH CENTURY: SEA OF TROUBLES

A.
291
The Alienation
C. P.
of the Intellectuals
295
SNOW
Literati
The
and
the Scientists
296 304
CRANE BRINTON
On
the Discrimination of Anti-Intellectualisms
HAROLD ROSENBERG
America's Post-Radical Critics
314
B.
Meaning
Is All:
The
Linguistic Philosophy
319
ERNEST GELLNER
The Mystical
P.
Philistines
320
328
W. BRIDGMAN
Words and Meanings
C.
Historical Inevitability
335
FRIEDRICH ENGELS
Scientific Socialism
336 340
ARNOLD
J.
TOYNBEE
the Past
The Pattern of
Xii
CONTENTS
ROBERT
D.
L.
HEILBRONER
352
365
The Limits of Determinism
Back
C. E.
to Religion
M. JOAD
Plight of the Intellectual
The
A. R.
366
ORAGE
"ill
Life of Gymnastics
CLARENCE
H. FAUST The Search for Answers
381
ALAN
W.
WATTS
Doing Nothing"
Problem
391
"Sitting Quietly,
CARL GUSTAV JUNG

The Modern
E.
Spiritual
403
The Voices
of Science
419
SIGMUND FREUD
Psycho-Analysis
420
Religion
JOHN LANGDON-DAVIES
Science, the New ALEXIS CARREL
427
The Remaking of
Man
436
AAA 452
463
LANCELOT LAW WHYTE

The Search for Understanding
ERWIN SCHRODINGER
The Not-Quite-Exact Sciences
ARCHIBALD VIVIAN HILL

The Humanity of Science
F.
Inventing the Future
467
RENfi JULES
Utopias and
DUBOS
468 482
491
Human Goals MARSTON BATES Man and the Balance of Nature

SIR CHARLES GALTON The Next Million Years
Another Distant View
DARWIN
RODERICK SEIDENBERG
505
DENNIS GABOR
The
Postscript:
New
Golden Age
of the
514
The Tradition
Enhghtenment
519 529
Reading Suggestions
PART
SETTING
THE PROBLEM
Setting the Problem
THE VERY DISPARATE WRITINGS GATHERED IN THIS BOOK ARE THERE FOR a purpose. They are part of what an intera very small part indeed ested mid-twentieth-century American might use to help locate himself in the bewildering world of twentieth-century thought on the great questions we still call philosophical. The book is frankly and unashamedly
didactic. It is
one of a genre
if
that,
lowly though
literary genres, is surely indispensable in
it be in the hierarchy of our democracy: the do-it-yourself
book. Make,
you must and can, your own world-view. attempt to explain more fuUy what might be done with the materials here collected. But first, in fairness to the prospective reader, I must make clear what this anthology is not. It is not a collection of excerpts from the best books, the greatest books, the books everyone ought
I shall shortly
to read. It is not a chronologically arranged
book
of readings in formal
philosophy or in the
now
fashionable history of ideas, designed to acIt is
company a
systematic textbook in these subjects.
not a collection
of "primary" source materials in original forms. Indeed, I have not hesitated to use "secondary" materials,
good
clear expositions of
is
one man's
ideas by another
man,
especially
as, for
when
the original
gracelessly written,
very technical,
difficult,
form we have received them. This book

later
pages might
make
it
example, the writings of Aristotle in the is not, though a sampling of its appear so, a collection of essays on contemporary
elicit
"problems," a collection designed to

tions
like,
thoughtful and literate composi-
from freshman English
classes. It is not
or agree with, or even find always very interesting. But
a collection of pieces that I it is, I hope,
human
a useful and only very roughly systematic assemblage of a wide range of thinking about man's place in the universe. It is meant for the
need to do such thinking for themselves. our mid-twentieth-century world few? We encounter at the very start of our enterprise one of the most difficult and controversial aspects of the basic problem of man's fate as it seems to men today. Are men Western men, men of the free world at least in unusually
relatively
feel a
few who
Are they indeed
in
large
numbers puzzled, disturbed,
adrift
"alienated," as the psychologist

3
4
likes to
SETTING THE PROBLEM

put
is
it? I
give later in this introductory section a firm statement
that ours that
indeed an age of
put
it
mildly
spiritual confusion,
let
and
we need
badly to clear that confusion up. But
me
cite
now two
passages from contemporary writers, both trained psychologists, which
put clearly and succinctly the opinion, widespread

few, that the less-articulate
among
is
the articulate
many
are today in a state of intellectual
and
emotional
crisis, are,
in fact, "alienated." First, here
the distinguished
psychoanalyst Bruno Bettelheim^:
We
so hectic
are in great haste to send and receive messages from outer space. But and often so tedious are our days, that many of us have nothing of
importance to communicate to those close to us. Never before have so many had it so good; no longer do we tremble in fear of sickness or hunger, of hidden evils in the dark, of the spell of witches. The burden of killing toil has been lifted from us, and machines, not the labor of our hands, will soon provide us with nearly all we need, and much that we don't really need. We have inherited freedoms man has striven after for centuries. Because of all this and much more we should be living in a dawn of great promise. But now that we are freer to enjoy life, we are deeply frustrated in our disappointment that the freedom and comfort, sought with such deep desire, do not give meaning and purpose to our lives. With so much at hand that generations have striven for, how bewildering that the meaning of life should evade us. Freedoms we have, broader than ever before. But more than ever before most of us yearn for a self realization that eludes us, while we abide restless in the midst of plenty. As we achieve freedom,
we
are frightened
all
by
social forces that
seem
to suffocate us,
seem
to
move
in
on us from
parts of an ever contracting world.

dissatisfaction with life are
let
The tedium and

are getting ready to
becoming so great that many
out of their hands. They feel it is all too complicated, too difficult to hold on to it, and to themselves. If meaning has gone out of their lives, then at least they wish not to be responsible for it, to let society carry the burden of failure and guilt. Just how to achieve self realization, to preserve freedom, and adapt society to both, seems increasingly harder to know; it is felt as a central, overwhelming problem of our days. From finding security in a repetition of sameness, of only slight and slow variations, we are having to live with a very different kind of security; one that must rest on achieving the good life, with very little chance to predict the outcome of our actions in a fast changing world. To manage such a feat, heart and reason can no longer be kept in their separate places. Work and art, family and society, can no longer develop in isolation from each other. The daring heart must invade reason with its own living warmth, even if the symmetry of reason must give way to admit love and the pulsation of life. No longer can we be satisfied with a life where the heart has its reasons, which reason cannot know. Our hearts must know the world of reason, and reason must be guided by an informed heart.
freedom
slip
Bruno Bettelheim, The Informed Heart (Glencoe, III.: The Free Press, 1960), vii-viii. This interesting and controversial book deals centrally with Dr. Bettelheim's own direct experience of Nazi Germany, including a year in the concentration camps of Dachau and Buchenwald. It is also a tract for the times, worried but not alarmist. The reader will find a stimulating discussion of the meaning of attitudes re^
pp.
vealed in the Diary of
Anne Frank,
pp. 252-254.
Setting the
Problem
is
Second, here
psychologist,
much more worried
passage from a young Harvard
Kenneth Keniston^:
an age that inspires little enthusiasm. In the industrial West, and now in the uncommitted nations of the East, ardor is lacking; instead men talk of their growing distance from one another, from their social order, from their work and play, and even from the values that in a perhaps romanticized past seem to have given their lives cohesiveness and direction. Horatio Alger is replaced by Timon, Napoleon by Ishmael, and even Lincoln now seems pallid before the defiant images of "hoods" and "beats." The vocabulary of social commentary is dominated by terms that characterize this distance:
This
is
increasingly
estrangement, separation, withdrawal, indifference, disaffection, apathy, noninvolvement, neutralism all these words describe the increasing distance between men and their former objects of love, commitment, loyalty, devotion and reverence. Alienation, once seen as the consequence of a cruel (but changeable) economic order, has become for many the central fact of human existence, characterizing man's "thrown-ness" into a world in which he has no inherent place. Formerly imposed upon men by the world around them, estrangement increasingly is chosen by them as their dominant reaction to the world.
alienation,
woe must not be confused with what the hisknows is never quite absent from the record that is, the complaints of the bright young men and those not so young but still bright against the ways of their less-gifted fellow men. The now
Dr. Keniston's recital of
torian of Western thought
fashionable phrase, "alienation of the intellectuals,"
if it is
taken to
mean
no more than the discontent of sensitive, high-minded, imaginatively inventive and adventurous persons, expressed in particular over the behavior of the rest of the human race, may be said almost to describe a constant of history. You can find such alienation in the writers of ages that now look most golden and happy, in Plato, in Shakespeare, in almost all the writers of that "Century of Hope," the nineteenth. Here is an example from yesterday:
Why have
you Bloomers and Women's Rights Men, and strong-minded women, and Mormons, and anti-renters, and "vote myself a farm" men, Millerites, and Spiritual Rappers, and Shakers, and Widow Wakemanites, and Agrarians, and Grahamites, and a thousand other superstitious and infidel Isms at the North?
is
there faith in nothing, speculation about everything? Why is this unhalf-demented, state of the human mind co-extensive in time and space, with free society? Why is Western Europe now starving? and why has it been fighting and starving for seventy years? Why all this, except that free society is a failure? Slave society needs no defense till some other permanently practicable form of society has been discovered. Nobody at the North who reads my book will attempt to reply to it; for all the learned abolitionists had unconsciously discovered and proclaimed the failure of free society long before I did.^
Why
settled,
Perhaps one might say that Fitzhugh, a Southern journalist

^
who wrote
Kenneth Keniston, "Alienation and the Decline of Utopia," American Scholar,
Number 2 (Spring, 1960), p. 1. ^Letter from George Fitzhugh to A. Hogeboom, 14 January 1856, quoted in the John Harvard Library edition of Fitzhugh's Cannibals All, ed. C. Vann Woodward (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1960), p. xxvii.
29,
6
in defense of slavery,
SETTING THE PROBLEM
meant by "unsettled, half-demented" substantially what Dr. Keniston means by "alienated"? And a hundred years ago apparently there were those who were aware of the unconscious. This brief
paragraph deserves careful analysis, for some of
alienation
lectual;
it it
drives
home
at least in
what Fitzhugh
calls
"free society"
the eternal
of the intel-
reminds us that "multanimity"* among men is not just of today; one of the weaknesses of these fighters with words, namely their disregard for facts. Surely Western Europe did not starve in those marvelous seventy years of Progress, 1786-1856? But the alienation of our intellectuals today, if Henry Murray, Gerhard
and
it
exhibits
Szczesny, Kenneth Keniston, and a host of others are right,
is
something
more than indignant impatience with the imperfections of human institutions and human "nature." Our intellectuals are discontented with themselves
as well as with the universe
existentialist whistling in the dark, are
and their fellows, are prey to an above all uncertain as to whether
they really know, can really plan, let alone achieve, a better
way
of
life
here on earth. In fine simple terms: they lack what

tial
may
well be an essen-
of
human
existence, a confident sense that they understand their place
in the universe; they lack a firm metaphysics, a firm teleology, a firm cos-
mology; perhaps we might as well say they lack a firm, consohng, yet
duly stimulating religion.
Now
the above
is
with a perspective
we cannot
put with some exaggeration. Historians in the future, gain, may find our twentieth century a fertile
if
and creative time, no more disturbed than seems necessary

grow, or at
indignant,
least,
we
are to
change. Certainly our leading intellectuals are not re-
signed, defeated, apathetic; they
may be
bewildered, but they are also
and
very, very articulate. I quite deliberately did not write above
do not have any such lack. and wrong are not very different from those of theur grandparents, nor, except in manners rather than in morals, is their behavior very different. I feel sure that no one who knows the ways of American intellectuals teachers, preachers, writers, artists, yes, scienthat they lack a firm ethics, for they clearly
Their standards of right
tists,
for they too are intellectuals
can
fairly
maintain that as a group
they are less well behaved than the rest of Americans. Their spiritual
troubles, which are real, have not for the most part undermined their moral sense. I say this firmly, in part just because of recent T.V. quiz
scandals.
But how about the rest of our country or, indeed, of the West, for the problem is by no means pecuUarly American? Is this aUenation of the intellectuals also an alienation of the nonintellectuals? Are the many spiritually disoriented, disturbed, and, if so, are the moral consequences of such widespread popular alienation Ukely to be a danger to the very
hard to believe that I have coined so obvious and useful a word as I confess I have not found it in any of the three unabridged dictionaries I have consulted. C. B.
*I
find
it
"multanimity," but
Setting the
Problem
wisest of our spiritual guides
enormous questions, to which the and the ablest of our social scientists cannot give the kind of answer we should all like to have. I should not dream of
existence of the free world? These are
attempting such an answer, but
should
like, in
order to clarify to the
reader just what I expect of him, to set
down
very briefly indeed a few
propositions on this subject, propositions which I trust will encourage the

fit
fit
reader to go on, and encourage the unfit reader
(who may
well be very
indeed for other things, indeed, for other reading) to refrain from goFirst,
ing on.
though probably
all
human
beings save for the very feeble-
minded do have what

about
I shall call
"metaphysical concern," do have "ideas"

fate,
religion, philosophy,
man's condition and man's

is
only a few
"think" about such matters; probably only a few can think about such
matters. I realize that this
a very controversial statement, and one that

at least not in the present state of
can hardly be verified experimentally,

the appropriate social sciences.
Yet the range or spectrum of individual

capacities
human
differences in readily assessed external or "physical"
and achievements is great and obvious even to the most democratically inspired. We do not usually expect most people to be, or even to become,
platinum blondes, possessors of absolute pitch, .300
hitters,
or heroic
mountain cHmbers; notably, we do not expect football linemen to serve also as coxswains of eight-oared shells; and though the ardent democratic egalitarians take this
hard
we
are resigned to the apparent fact
that the
male and female of the human species are not quite interchangeall respects.
it
able in
I think
clear that not
all
human
that
word
snobbishly, imprecisely
and
it,
beings can think.

usefully
Of course
use
to
mean
a particular
kind of thinking, the kind of manipulation of "abstractions" you and I are now indulging ourselves in, thinking "philosophically." This kind of
thinking
is
also, for the
person doing
in a sense deserving of those nice
and "creative" even though it results in nothing that has not been thought and said many many times before. Thinking, like loving, is for the individual always a unique and pristine adventure. At this point, I face great temptations to digression and amplification. Let me content myself with noting that our Western tradition, if somewhat ambivalent toward this kind of thinking, on the whole has held it to be a form of privileged, that is, aristocratic, excellence, which is one reason why so many Americans would like to believe that everyone can and ought to indulge in it. In a variant form, still essentially philosophical, which is now called scientific, thinking is today held in high esteem by most Ameriadjectives "original"
cans.
Second, though probably all mentally normal persons from infancy on do think in concrete daily matters of problem-solving in ways by no means wholly unlike the ways of philosophic or scientific or abstract or
analytical thought,
it
seems
likely that their opinions in actual philosophy,
8
religion, ethics
SETTING THE PROBLEM
cultural inheritance
and the and
like are pretty painlessly
acquired by a kind of
training; or at
any rate
that,
once acquired, these
opinions are held comfortably, firmly, consciously, of course, but not

proddingly.
They
Le Play, Pareto have long recognized the importance of these "inherited" and consoling beliefs; hopelessly unreaUstic
social thinkers
Burke,
are part of the ritual regularities of Ufe. Conservative
thinkers Ûke a John Stuart Mill themselves always thinking, thinking, have wholly misunderstood them, even to the point of maintaining that the unhappy holders actually find their treasured beUefs ("dogmas," horrid word) a burden. Now I am at least unconvinced that the ahenation of the intellectuals
in
our modern West has spread very far among the non-intellectual (though not stupid) many. Enlightened secularists, numerous among in-
exaggerate the extent to which the fundamentals of our Judaeo-Christian religious inheritance no longer hold the many. Needtellectuals, certainly
less to say, this
Judaeo-Christian tradition can give a very firm, and very
on its ultimates. Moreover, most of the surrogates for and even a Christianity watered down with doubts as to possible transcendence of the this-world of science, can and do for many in our world fend off the cosmic worries that show up in ahenation. Indeed, even what I like to call, not secular religion, but the religion of the Enlightment, once it is stripped of its expectation of an immediate First Coming of Happiness on this earth, can be and for many is a consoUng faith, suitably prophylactic against the ills of doubt and despair. Third, however, I should indeed agree with Messrs. Murray, Szczesny, Keniston and many others some of whom I have included in later sections of this book that the state of mind diagnosed by them as "alienation" is real, important, and to be fought against, even though it is probably limited to the intellectual few. Let me make here three final comments. First, though we do not by any means understand, for complex societies such as those of the West, the relations between the intellectual few and
consoling, grasp
Christianity,
the rest of the society, the two groups are not mutually isolated, nor neces-
mutually hostile. Somehow, what the few do does seep down among many, does affect their behefs and hence theh conduct. Again I brush lightly against an enormous subject. To be summary: I do not think we can have many bright young men in the state of mind Dr. Keniston depicts without a serious corruption of our whole national will to five. Second, the plight of the ahenated intellectuals, though it is certainly due to many complex and interrelated factors, is in part at least, or so it must seem to a historian, due to their fine American ignorance of the
sarily
the
past
even
of our
own
past.
They, as grandchildren of the eighteenth-
century Enlightment, really were brought up to believe that man's normal condition on earth is the successful pursuit of happiness. As Robert Hetl-
broner puts
his recent The Future As History, they it very succinctly believed in the "inevitabiUty of progress," moral as well as material; they
Setting the
Problem
they ran up against a catalogue of and Hiroshima. Third, and put very briefly: although relatively few in the billions of humanity, these troubled intellectuals are absolutely numerous indeed, and very important.
horrors, from Sarajevo to Auschwitz
were optimists, indeed Utopians.
And
on these matters at the end of this have shaped this anthology above all for the now unhappy few who feel the need of thinking about man's fate and their own, and who have begun to realize that neither their scholastic
I shall attempt further reflections
let
book. Here
me
note that
education, with
its
neglect of history for vague and quite unreassuring
"social studies" slanted
toward the democratic
pieties,
nor their family
training with
its
excessive lack of the vein of iron, has prepared
them
for
have gathered under section IV from twentieth-century writers might well have filled the whole book, but this would have meant the loss of what is in some respects the most important thing for our troubled seekers to face: simple historical perspective. Literally hundreds of generations of thinkers have
I
the task of placing themselves in a world like ours.
What
had
to face the kind of
problems we face
yes,
of total destruction of the race and the universe.

of course been identical,
even the apocalyptic fears The problems have not

it is
and
their solutions
have varied;
possible that
culture an
over the long centuries there has been in these phases of

understandable and explicable process of the kind
human
we understand
well
enough
in biology
by a term
like "evolution," in
technology by terms like
"progress" or "greater efl&ciency." But on this very problem of the nature
and existence of a
"cultural evolution,"
we
in the
West
are
by no means
in
agreement today, as can be seen from the foreword by Leslie A. White and the chapters on the Law of Evolutionary Potential in the excellent volume by Sahlens and Service, Evolution and Culture, which I refer to
on page 427.
Briefly,
men
many
men
are obviously driven to
ask the kind of
question, set the kind of problem,
we
are concerned with in this book.
Quite as obviously, they have not succeded in getting answers, solutions,
on which all men can agree. They have not got even the kind of agreement which we expect from common sense, from science, and which the Christhe securus judicat orbis tians must still expect ultimately in religion
terrarum of
shall
St.
Augustine.
twentieth-century school of philosophers
meet
briefly in section
or Unguistic philosophers
has been taken
IV
we
the logical positivists, or logical analysts,
among
popularizers of philo-
sophical thought and hostile philosophers to have maintained that since
such problems (metaphysical, theological, ethical, aesthetic problems) cannot be "solved" as, say, the chemist or the mathematician solves problems in his field, such problems are "meaningless" and therefore not really
problems. Yet the most determined logical positivist
naive convert to what
faces,
is itself
better,
the
a rather old metaphysical position
most
clearly
and
in a sense solves, such
problems daily as a
citizen, a husband,.
10
a father, a professional
SETTING THE PROBLEM
man, a reader, a viewer of television, a traveler, an individual human being. He may well, in our day, be very greatly troubled over the difficulties and uncertainties he encounters as he faces these interminable problems; he may even be, as Dr. Keniston holds, "alienated," driven to a despairing abandonment of any attempts to improve his spiritual lot. But he need not feel ashamed, need not feel alone, need not feel that he wants something not quite natural. For what he is after put it as vaguely, if you like, as "a search for the meaning of life" is as natural a desire, as essential a part of man's condition, as eating, drinking, or making love.
and even
as that puzzling creature,
Here, in a recent book^,

I
is
a fine concrete statement of this need:
had spent some years in the intensive study of imaginative and philosophical and was continually brought up against the problem of the contrast between the meaning of a man's work and life for us, the "likeness" we make, and his own image or idea of himself. We generally underestimate the importance in a man's life of his "life-illusion," and I wanted to compensate my own bias by studying autobiography, the record of this illusion. Personal experiences reinforced, and perhaps in reality prompted, this purpose. I was frequently startled to find that for other people I was a person
literature,
with definite characteristics, who in given circumstances could be expected to have certain views and to act in certain ways; while I remained in my own eyes rather indefinite and capable of unforeseeable reactions. I came to realise that I was deluding myself in some degree, but felt that the others were deluding themselves about me also. I am not so fixed as I appear to them, and I am not so indeterminate as I assume. Thinking over recent changes in my thoughts and habits, I found it immensely difficult to decide whether they were foreseeable, as the assertion of a deeper trend over less fundamental attitudes, or whether they were something really new. In either case, it seemed curious that I should be so anxious to persuade myself that I was consistent, that this "I" was an identity; for even if something new had emerged, I tried to prove to myself that it grew organically out of the old. As if freedom could mean something to me only if it was destiny, as if a choice was satisfactory only if it
imposed
itself as
my
nature.
This intellectual problem presented itself however as an insistent moral pressure. I do not mean concern for the morality of my behavior and thoughts, though old faults and follies of course cause sleepless nights. / mean a need for meaning (italics C. B.). I do not believe that an individual fife has a religious or transcendental meaning, and I cannot even comfort myself with the metaphysical despair, the Angst, of the existentialists. Nor is it enough to prove to myself that I am fulfilling a social purpose in a useful job. The meaning had to be personal, subjective. I did not pitch my hopes extravagantly high, and felt one could be content if one could feel one's self to be consistent, to have developed naturally and organically, to have remained "true to itself," and if within this framework one could order certain intense experiences whose significance defied analysis but which were peculiarly one's own. The terms are vague, and I cannot say where this pressure comes from, but I think I am delineating a state of mind from which autobiography springs.
'^Roy Pascal, Design and Truth in Autobiography (Cambridge, Mass.: 1960), pp.
vii-viii.
HENRY
Beyond
A.
MURRAY
Yesterday's Idealisms
) is Professor of Psychology at Harvard. He which is in tone and content a model of its kind, before the Harvard Chapter of Phi Beta Kappa during Commencement week of 1959. It sets neatly some of the problems we shall try to set more fully and more skeptically in this book. Note that Dr. Murray asks for a "mythology" worthy of our group adulthood, as, he holds, the JudaeoChristian "mythology" is not worthy; and note that he does not ask for a "religion" worthy of our adulthood. I am afraid that for most human beings when a set of cosmic beliefs is a mythology it is no longer a set of beliefs. in which case It would be nice if "mythology" did the fob of "religion" Dr. Murray's proposed new New and Old Testaments might be, if at all
Henry Murray (1893this address,
gave
possible, also useful.
But
religions just aren't
mythologies not
at least
while they are alive as religions. I may, however, be unfairly quibbling over
to go further can start with a very sugby trained scholars, Henry A. Murray, ed., Myth and Mythmaking {New York: George BrazHler, Inc., 1960). definitions.
The reader who wants
gestive collection
the
MR. PRESIDENT, LADIES, AND GENTLEMEN: THE LIST OF ORATORS SINCE first performance of this rite in 1782, the blaze of famous names, was blinding to one who as an undergraduate was never on the Dean's list but often in his office, blinding to one who has been fumbling in the dark for many years, in the underground of mind, well below the level of luminous rationality sustained by members of this elite society. From the parade of annual orations one receives imposing views of the diversity of elevated thinking in America, challenging yet humbling, I would guess, to pretty nearly anyone your President might pick to add another theme to this medley of reflections.
to
Happily for a man in this predicament there are transfusions of courage be had from a host of predecessors, especially, as you well know, from those wondrous emanations in 1837 of the Platonic Over-Soul of Ralph Waldo Emerson, To this apostle of self-confidence I attribute whatever
11
12
Stamina
is
HENRY
A.
MURRAY
required to speak freely to you today, some hundred and twenty
years beyond his yesterday. Here
my
cue comes from Emerson himself

its
who reminded
his enthralled
audience that each age "must write

fit
own
books." "The books of an older age will not
this."
Emerson's preoccupation was Man Thinking, or, to be more accurate, Mr. Emerson Thinking, serene and saintly, solitary and aloof, residing in his own aura without envy, lust, or anger, unspotted by the world and impervious to its horrors. My preoccupation will be a little different, a difference that makes all the difference: men and women thinking, privately and publicly, in the teeth of an infernal, lethal threat that will be here as long as our inhuman human race is here. In the realm of thought, Sigmund Freud who, on the question of innate, potential evil, concurred with St. Augustine Freud marks the great divide which separates us irrevocably from the benign atmosphere of the untempted, unhurt, and unmolested sage of Concord. Also separating us from that tall, angular, gentle, blue-eyed mystic, who saw evil at such a distance that he could dismiss it and condone it, and who, in so doing, as his admirer Santayana pointed out, "surrendered the category of the better and the worse, the deepest foundation of life and reason" separating us incurably from that justly-venerated poet-thinker are the blights and blasts of more than forty lurid years of enormities and abominations perpetrated by our fellow-men on the sensitive bodies and souls of other men. Before the occurrence of this global epidemic of lies, treacheries, and atrocities, most of us Americans were temperamentally with Emerson, strongly inclined to optimism, and so to shun or to deny the fact that human creatures were still capable of surpassing all other species as callous and ferocious torturers and killers of their own kind. But now that we have seen all this,
the darker vision of the once-rejected

veracity in
Herman
Melville resonates with
more
some
of us.
Would
that I could offer, out of
my
well of joy, a nicer prospect,

I,
more
appropriate to this festive week! But were

ideas to indulge both
with bland, buoyant or urbane
you and me, I would deserve that label that Melville, on second thought, attached to Emerson Confidence Man. You see there is still danger that out of shallowness and the desire to be pleasant at all costs two of our besetting sins we may rid consciousness of the unflattering knowledge we have gained, and, by so doing, cancel the possibility of ever reaching the conclusion that the present degree and aim of certain of our dispositions and certain states and aims of our various
societies are definitely out of date, unsuitable for survival. It looks to

if
me
as
we must transform or fall apart. The inevitable decision is that the eminent Yankee seer was right: the books of his age, his own books imperishable as they surely are are not in all respects fitting to this age. The present age and your coming age must write its own books.
I suppose that most of you, just-honored intellectuals, will necessarily be occupied for the next years in thinking in a differentiated way, thinking as

specialists
13
as lawyers, business-men, doctors, scientists, historians, edu-
There is vigor and ample creativity involved in all of these professions. But later, if not sooner, you will be pressured from within or from without to think seriously once more about yourself and your relations with women and with men, to think personally and then impersonally, to ask knowledge for what? freedom for what? yourself embarrassing questions
cators.
existence for what?
to think, in other words, as a free-lance philosopher,
or generalist, about matters of profound and superordinate concern: ways
and ends of being and becoming, morals, religion, the human situation, the At such times each of you will be, in Emerson's sense, Man Thinking, and your reflections may beget a book or brace of books fitting logical, critical, and substantial to your age. Your capacity to write a book has been accredited by the conferring of the Key, symbolic of the fact that learning and transforming what you learn may be the happiest of activities, and may, with luck on your side, lead to the solution of crucial problems, turn the lock and open the door to new knowledge. Today the really crucial problems, as I hook them, are all deep, deep in
world's plight.
human
nature,
and
in this country with
our long preference for appearances,
for tangible, material realities, for perceptible facts, acts,
and technics, for
the processes and conclusions of conscious rationality, and for quick attain-
ments of demonstrable results with this native and acquired bent for things that one can plainly see, grasp, count, weigh, manipulate, and photograph, the probability of our solving or even seriously grappling with the strategic problems of our time does not appear to be encouragingly high. Only if this appraisal is somewhere near the truth can I discern a single reason for your President's election of a depth psychologist as orator for this day. What could his reason be except to have the depth dimension
stressed, with the
accompanymg
hint that the key to the
more perplexing
problems might be lying in the dark. Pertinent to this issue is the old story of the London bobby who, in the blackness of one night, came upon a man half-seas-over stumbling in a circle within the Ughted zone around a lamppost. "I
am
it
looking for
dropped dropped
here."
by
this light?" the
it
out there in
man explained. "Are you sure you bobby asked. "No," the man replied, "I the dark, but I can't see out there and I can see
key," the
my
What Freud discovered in the dark of the unconscious was what Puritan and Victorian morality suppressed as Sin, spelt with a capital. But now those floodgates are demolished and sexuality is conspicuously in the open, running loose among the young without benefit of form, grace, or dignity; and what is nowadays repressed, if my reading of the signs is not awry, are all the hopes, yearnings, claims, both dependent and aspiring, which down the centuries were comforted and directed by the mythologies and rituals of religion. Here I leave Freud and stand with Dr. Jung. That a bent for the ideal is latent in the psyches of men and women of your age is not what I've been told by any confiding undergraduate, and it is about the last conclusion that a reader of modem literature would be likely
14
to arrive at.
HENRY
For
certainly
A.
MURRAY
novelists,
most of the best poets, playwrights, and
together with
many
psychoanalysts, behavioral psychologists, social phi-
losophers, existentiaUsts, and
some angry
others,
seem
to
be conspiring,
with peculiar unanimity, to reduce or decompose, to humiliate so far as they can do it, man's image of himself. In one way or another, the impression
is
conveyed
that, in the
realm of
spirit,
all
of us are baflBed Beats,
Beatniks, or dead-beats, unable to cope as persons with the existential

situation.
But tell me, what is the underlying meaning of this flood of discontent and self-depreciation? One pertinent answer comes from Emerson himself. "We grant that human life is mean, but how did we find out that it was mean? What is the ground of this uneasiness of ours, of this old discontent? What is the universal sense of want and ignorance but the fine innuendo by which the soul makes its enormous claim." Yes, surely, "its enormous claim," and in the very midst of this American Paradise of material prosperity. The enormous claim of the sensitive, alienated portions of our comes, as I catch artists, would-be artists, and their followers society the innuendoes, from want of a kindling and heartening mythology to feel, think, live, and write by. Our eyes and ears are incessantly bombarded by a mythology which breeds greed, envy, pride, lust, and violence, the mythology of our mass media, the mythology of advertising, Hollywood and Madison Avenue. But a mythology that is sufiicient to the claim of head and heart is as absent from the American scene as symbolism is absent from
the new, straight-edged, bare-faced, glass buildings of
New
York.
An
emotional deficiency disease, a paralysis of the creative imagination,

superficials
an addiction to
this is the physician's diagnosis I
would
offer
to account for the greater part of the widespread desperation of our time,
and half a would also account, in part, for the fact that the great majority of us, wedded to comfort so long as we both shall live, are turning our eyes away from the one thing we should
the enormous claim of people
are living with half a heart
lung. Paralysis of the imagination, I suspect,
who
be looking
at:
the possibility or probabiUty of co-extermination.
In his famous speech of acceptance upon the award of the Nobel prize for literature, Albert Camus declared as follows: "Probably every generation sees itself as charged with remaking the world. Mine, however, that
it it
knows
will
not remake the world. But

statement to be
its
task
is
perhaps even greater, for
world from destroying itself." made before an auditory of our faculty and students even by Camus himself, speaking with utter candor out of his embattled deeps of agony I fear it would be met by a respectful, serious, yet stony silence, an apparent silence, for, coming from behind the nonconsists in keeping the
Were
this
committal, uncommitted faces,
all
would be aware of the almost palpable,
familiar throb of Harvard's splendid engines of sophisticated demolition.
We are as sick of being warned of our proximity to hell as were the members of Jonathan Edwards' congregation. Wolf! Wolf!
How,
in heaven's
name, does Camus imagine that a league of
artists
and philosophers could

possibly prevent the destruction of the world?
to telling us
is
15
when he
states that his "generation
race against time, it ought to re-establish based on slavery, to reconcile labor and culture again, and to reconstruct "re-establish," with all men an Ark of the Covenant." These words
mad
The nearest that he comes knows that, in a sort of among nations a peace not
"reconcile," "reconstruct,"
suggest that in his
mind
the prevention of
destruction does, in fact, call for a remaking of the world, the building of a
new Ark
of the Covenant as basis for re-union.
Here, reason might lead us to infer that

stitution of
Camus was
thinking of the in-
world government, which as scores of enlightened men, from Woodrow Wilson to Bertrand Russell, have insisted is the only rational answer to global, social chaos, a central government being the sole means that man has ever found of securing and maintaining order. But framing a
constitution for world government, as the competent
Mr. Grenville Clark
has done,
it
is
not in line with the special genius of Camus, and, furthermore,
is
apparent that the concept of world government, though absolutely
is gaining little popular or Federal support. Sanity is overmatched: deep, blind, primitive compulsions which by-pass consciousness are towing us with a cable we have no knife to cut and driving us nearer and
necessary,
nearer to the verge of death.
At such a
time,
when hidden
passions are deciding things, a legal scheme,
no matter how commonsensical and logical, is not a magnet to large numbers of men and women: it chills them, leaves them frigid, uninvolved.
Nor,
at
guided by philosophers arouse enthusiasm. But
such a time, could something like Plato's plan for a Republic when Plato, envious of
Homer's enormous influence in Greece, banished poets and myth-makers from his Republic, he deprived it of the springs of charismatic power, and so, when it came to a show-down with the masses, his beautifully reasoned books were ploughed under by the passionate myths and images of the poet-authors of the Bible. The Bible proved to be the fitting book not only for that century but for many centuries to come. It seems highly significant to me that Camus, a firm opponent of the theism of Judaeo-Christianity, should have reached into the fathomless well of the Old Testament to gain a potent image for his hope Ark of the Covenant. It is there, among those images, that one can find the moulds that shaped the deepest passions of the Western World, including Russia. At this juncture I shall seize, with your permission, the remaining minutes
of this proffered opportunity, with
its
cherished privilege of free speech, to
I would write if I had been vouchsafed the necessary genius and resources. This hypothetical book would also be a sketch, though a far larger and more detailed sketch, of a book to come composed by other authors, a super-personal book, a book of books, that might be termed a testament, a world testament. Before submitting this micro-sketch of a macro-sketch of a book for a new age, I should warn you that this imagined testament will carry us beyond the mythology of dependent and compliant childhood, the same as
submit a micro-sketch of a hypothetical book that
16
that of the
HENRY
A.
MURRAY
dependent childhood of our society in colonial days, that is, the we inherited, and also beyond the mythology of adolescence, the same as that of the adolescence of our Nation, the mythology of protest, rebelUon, independence, rugged
authoritarian father-son mythology of the religion
Both of these mythologies are still operative. In fact, the mythology of adolescence, stressing freedom without qualifications or conditions, constitutes our national religion. Please understand and hold in mind that in looking forward to a future that has moved beyond these idealisms of today and yesterday, I am not forsaking them. There is a helpless, suffering child and a frustrated, rebellious adolescent in every one of us, and always will be. I would say, there is a time and place for authority and the founding of character, and there is a time and place for Uberation from authority and the development and expression of a self-reUant personality. But, as I see the human situation, we are in need of a mythology of adulthood, something that is conspicuous by its absence in Western literature, a mythology of interdependence and creation, not only on the level of imaginative love, marriage, and the forming of a family, but on
individualism.
other levels, especially that of imaginative international reciprocities.
Have
we not
pretty nearly reached the age
when we can
well afford to go
beyond
the glorification of vanity, pride, and egotism, individual and national?
Well, now, to return to

the testament that
my
sketch of a sketch.
The
essential features of
be roughly these: it would be the product of the interdependent judgments and imaginations of numerous composers, drawn from different cultures and from different callings. The initial task of these presumably creative and judicious thinkers would be to select from the vast libraries of the world, arrange, and edit, whatever past and present writings in poetry or prose were suitable to the appointed purpose. Except for more abundant stores from which to draw their substance, a larger scope and longer span of time, these testamentmakers would proceed, we may suppose, as did the compilers and editors of the canonical and non-canonical books of the Bible. They would certainly be advantaged by the example of those fore-runners. Like the Old Testament, this new one would contain numerous variations of subject matter and of style: narratives, historical and biographical, stories, parables, legends, and myths, songs and poems, psalms of praise, codes and ordinances, premonitions and philosophical reflections. Most difficult for the testament-makers would be the task of loosely
occupies
integrating, as in the Bible, the selected parts in terms of a philosophy of social evolution
now
my mind would
cycles of creation, conservation, decay, or induration
tending, in the long run, toward the fulfillment of that
dream
of
human
fel-
lowship which centuries of deep and loving people have recommended to
our hearts.
This testament would differ radically from the Bible inasmuch as its mythology would be consonant with contemporary science: its personifications would all refer to forces and functions within nature, human nature. Also, it would differ radically from previous testaments of the Near East

and West
17
the Bible, the Koran, and the Testament of Karl
Marx
by
describing and praising, with even-handed justice, forms of excellence,
achieved by each and every culture. There would be no bowing to special

claims,
made by any
single collectivity, of
tion, of infallible truth, of salvation for its
unique superiority, of divine elecmembers and damnation for all
its There would be no ovation for the apocalyptic myth, either or in its modern Communistic Persian or Judaeo-Christian form; the myth of the inevitable and final Great Encounter between the all-good and the all-evil, resulting in an eternity of bliss for chosen saints or comrades, and death or everlasting torments for the enemy. There would
others.
ancient form
be no acceptance of the necessity of inquisitions, persecutions, brain-washings, or concentration camps. In a sense, the world testament would be a parable, a parable of parables, expressive of the universal need for peace, for interdependence, for fruitful reciprocations among those manifold units of mankind which are still proud and quarrelsome, still locked in clenched antagonisms. Its symbolisms would commemorate on all levels the settlement of hostilities between opposites, their synthesis, or creative union: man and nature, male and female, reason and passion, understanding and imagination, enjoyable means and enjoyable ends, science and
art,
management and
labor.
West and
East. Its ulti-
mate, ethical ideal would be the resolution of differences through mutual embracement and subsequent transformation. In the words of Henry James,
senior: "It
is
no doubt very tolerable
finite
or creaturely love to love one's
own in
another, to love another for his conformity to one's self: but nothing
can be in more flagrant contrast with the creative Love, aU whose tenderness ex vi termini must be reserved only for what intrinsically is most bitterly hostile and negative to itself." In the judgment of America's most profound philosopher, Charles S. Peirce, this sublime sentence "discloses for the problem of evil its everlasting solution." Finally, in contrast to the umelieved sociological language of the outmoded testament of Marx, this world testament, heir to the secret of the Bible's everlasting magic, would consist in its best parts of moving and revealing poetic passages.
stirring
Some devout
Christians overlook the fact that the
and sustaining influence of the Book they dream and live by depends on the marvelous words, the vivid imagery and figures of speech with which its wisdom is transmitted. This is one of the chief qualities by which a religion can be distinguished from a moral philosophy or system of ethics. If the New Testament, for example, had been written by a modem social scientist in the jargon of his profession it would have died at birth, and Mithraism, or Manichaeanism, or Mohammedanism would have taken possession of the European mind. A religion is propagated by the alchemy of the aesthetic imagination, in striking parables and metaphors that solace, cheer, or channel our profoundest feelings. A code of morals, on the other hand, can appeal only to our intellects and to a few of our more shallow
sentiments.
If,
perchance, a world testament with the mythic qualities I have men-
18
tioned
it
HENRY
A.
MURRAY
became an invitation to the feelings and thoughts of men and women, would gain this influence only through its power to enchant, charm, clarify, edify, and nourish. There would be no agents of sovereign authority
with threatened penalties to enforce compliance, and, in contrast to the
testaments of our estabUshed Churches,
revisions, additions,
it would be always susceptible to and subtractions. Everybody, I assume especially on reaching the accepted age for the retirement of his brain is entitled to a dream, and this is mine, heretical at certain points, but not so visionary as it sounds. Works of the magnitude of this imagined testament have been composed in the past, notably in India. Much of what is needed has been in printed form for years. Ample energy and genius is available hterary critics, historians, social scientists, philosophers, and poets in different quarters of the globe. Enough money for the effort is in the keep of men who are aware of humanity's dire strait. A provisional first edition of the testament would not be very long in coming. Translated into all languages it might turn out to be the book this
age
is
waiting for.
that
A
a
war
no one wants, an
is
utterly disgraceful
end to man's long ex-
periment on earth
a possibility
we
are facing every day. Events are hang-
finger on a trigger, on But ours is no momentary problem to be solved by this or that practical expedient. Does a mature nation sacrifice the future for the present? The day will come when small countries will possess enough lethal energy to ehminate a large country. Does a mature nation have the arrogance to believe that it can buy with dollars the permanent good-will and loyalty of other peoples? Has our government a long time-perspective, a philosophy of history, a world-view to guide its day-by-day and year-by-year decisions? If yes, only a few of us have heard of it.
ing by a thread, depending
on an
accident,
on some
game
of wits and tricks, of pride and saving faces.
It is such considerations that have pressured the generation of a vision of something which intellectuals like you and other members of the Phi
Beta Kappa society might have a hand in shaping. Why not? Many times in the past, the direction of events has been affected by the pubhcation of a single book. At the very least, the composition of this testament would
constitute a brave, far-seeing try
light in
no vulgar
try
to kindle a httle veritable
a black world.
The one conversion requisite for those who would lose themselves in this demanding enterprise was long ago described in two famous, pithy sentences by a stubborn American patriot, contemporary with Emerson. No doubt many of you have had occasion to saunter down the elm-shaded path in the middle of Commonwealth Avenue and, arriving at the statue of William Lloyd Garrison, stopped to read these words: "My country is the world. My countrymen are all mankind."
GERHARD SZCZESNY
pert, Director of Special
) is a German writer and broadcasting exPrograms of Radio Bavaria. His Die Zukunft des Unglaubens (1958) {translated into English in 1961 as The Future of Unbelief] has attracted wide attention in Germany. It is a most discerning study of the relation between Christianity and what the
Gerhard Szczesny (1918-
author calls the "ersatz" or "surrogate" religions of our time, religions which I in this book lump together as sects of the "religion of Enlighten-
ment." Dr. Szczesny's diagnosis of our present troubles our alienation will admirably supplement Dr. Murray's and help prepare the reader for what follows. The reader will find it profitable to read The Future of
Unbelief in
its entirety.
led to a renascence of the Christian faith.
THE EVENTS OF THE FIRST HALF OF OUR CENTURY CERTAINLY HAVE NOT They have, however, brought
about a revival of the secular currency and authority of Christianity. After
the failure of recent substitute religions, Christianity again seems like the
unassailable treasure house of
all human values. The writings of a David Ludwig Feuerbach or a Friedrich Nietzsche, if publikelihood would be greeted as a public scandal and
Friedrich Strauss, a
lished today, in all
give rise to parliamentary protest
by
all
"Christian" parties.
We
are faced
by the
and psychologically explainable, yet on the whole still extraordinary, that the argument with Christianity which began more than a hundred years ago has in recent
fact,
a fact in
many
respects historically
decades become increasingly taboo.
One
of the reasons for this
phenomenon
life,
is
the collapse of the intellectual

past.
and moral optimism that was the mark of the century

a simple, pristinely joyous belief in
richer
As opposed
to
Christianity proved itself to be a
striving
and deeper thing. It knew more of the unavailingness of all human and the need always to take this frustration into account. Finally,
(New York: George
Braziller,
From Gerhard
Inc.,
Szczesny, The Future of Unbelief 1961), pp. 11-17, 75-80.
19
20
it
GERHARD SZCZESNY
inclination to turn to the mysteries, to
knew more about man's
form some
notion of what hes beyond the rationally knowable.
This rediscovery and reawakening of Christianity as a universally binding moral institution has not, to be sure, altered the fact that the real
content of the Christian doctrine of salvation, for a dominant type of
man, has become completely unacceptable, indeed, a matter of admit this without hesitation. However, in the face of modem crises and catastrophes the security afforded by a venerable and firmly built structure of beUef makes Christianity, as a whole, taboo and hinders open critical analysis of it, even of its now unbelievable metaphysics. Thus, existing Christian dogma, which possesses social currency even while no longer seriously believed, obstructs that looking out and beyond needed to find new answers to the "final questions."
indifference. Intelligent Christians
modem
Our
inquiry in this direction

Christians.
is
not undertaken with any intention of

It
is
making apostates of
rather concerned with
those to
whom
and from whom a return to Christianity can no longer be expected. It is aimed at overcoming the illusion that the "godless" man is an inferior creature, a nihilistic form of existence making for the total mination of all human order in sum, an utterly devilish sort of apparition the fighting of which with every means at hand demonstrates insight, humanity and adherence to the Christian way. This book is anti-Christian only in its contention that such views are en"unbelievingness" has
become
habitual,
joined or promoted, that there

pressure to bear on those
is
a recognizable procHvity to bring the non-
Christian standpoint into disrepute and to put social, moral and political
who embrace
it.
Otherwise
this
book
is
no more
It
intended to be anti-Christian than anti-Taoist or anti-Anthroposophic.

will
defend the freedom of Christians to profess their beliefs and practice
their form of worship. But it will equally defend the rights of those who have non-Christian forms of conviction and modes of behavior. And precisely on this account it will repudiate Christian claims to cultural or political
dominion.
of
The sharpness
subject matter
many
ensuing formulations
is
conditioned not by the
itself,
but by the situation surrounding the subject matter.

respects Christianity as a world-shaking historical
its
The author
is
neither a backslider nor a protester, nor any sort of anti-
or pro-religionist.
He
for two thousand years. But Chrishe does not respect. The author is also well aware that many people who cling eamestiy and honestly to Christianity are people of good will and good faith. It is not easy for him to wreak injury on his friends among such Christians. But under present circumstances he sees no way of taking up the cause of the "unbelievers" without at the same time putting the patience and open-mindedness of the believers to a severe test. Any reader who considers this to be asking too much may as well lay the book aside at once. But anyone who, as a Christian, decides to hear the author out, might bear in mind that every-
manifestation, which has left
mark
tianity as a confession of faith

body denied the
to
gift
21
of "belief" can hardly,
on
that account,
it,
thinking about the world and the role he plays in
abandon all and how these are

the relation-
be understood.
The
following observations represent
random thoughts on
crises
ships between Christianity
and
modem
in belief, rather than
systematic analysis.
They
also represent
an attempt
to characterize the
typical content of a post-Christian ideology or world-outlook.
Among
these
random thoughts appear
certain remarks
on
this great
family of problems
which assume a solution in a certain direction. Yet in no wise are they to be understood as final or comprehensive. Our task is to throw Hght on
the basic, root question of diversity of viewpoint. Certain trains of thought
will recur again
and again, since they estabUsh a connection between the
widely disparate objects of our analysis.
Many
things in the following pages
But it is the fate of certain truisms that whereas everyone knows them, no one reaUy pays them the least attention. There are commonplaces which, if publicly expressed, arouse resentment. They are allowed to hold good only as long as no one brings them to mind. This is understandable. The bad conscience of our epoch not only makes for
trivial.
may appear
complicated
illusions,
but for downright suppressions as well.

is
This observer's platform, then,
nothing more than the usual vantage
from which the normal
man
of our times occasionally tries to cast a look
"Unbehef" is no longer the prerogative of an especially enlightened minority. It is the fate of a contemporary type of Western man who may actually be in the majority, or who at any rate is very frequently encountered. This contemporary normal man is concerned with the old basic questions Who am I? What is the nature of the world? What can I believe in and what must I do about it? It is hard to fimid anat the great context of his life.
:
swers to these questions in the

sideration.
field of learning
appropriate to their con-
Without wishing to beUttle the significance of modem philosophy, one must recognize the fact that its contributions toward resolving the spiritual crises of our time are small indeed. On the one hand the philosophers wear themselves out making ever more refined interpretations of handed down conceptual. On the other, their voice never reaches beyond a small circle of initiates to those who might profit by philosophy's answers or solutions. Christianity's claim to spiritual leadership, its fear of the "ideological" and the murkiness of its own terminology seal the selfchosen or guilt-bora apartness of Western philosophy. The implicit and unsettled conflict with the Christian metaphysic Ues like mildew over all the philosophers' effort to show us how the innermost world is made. Also, the way our school philosophers write, their very style has always served more to cloud than to clarify and continues to do so to this day. The European's specific "intellectual gift" is to think and argue. Yet this gift,
in all probability,
is
largely intelligible as nothing
more than
the product
of a centuries-old clash with theology, in the course of which the art Qf concealment, evasion and deception has been
consummately developed.
22
GERHARD SZCZESNY
But a philosophy that can function only under camouflage and proviso
eventually loses clarity of insight and impartiality of judgment. In conse-
quence, the day finally arrives
when
it
can produce nothing but the ambigu-
ous and equivocal.

In
all
events
the average
problems and tragedies, without benefit of advice from our professional thinkers. There is also reason to suspect that as soon as these people have to measure up to the
age "educated"
his
life,
man
must manage
modern man
and by
its
this
we mean
the aver-
fundamental questions of
they, too, will
human existence outside their bookish province, behave in a "dilettante" and naive fashion. Anyone who has
ever listened in on a discussion among philosophers, or a discussion in which philosophers took part, will have noted with astonishment that at decisive moments in the debate they abandon the well-traveled paths of their specialized fund of knowledge and, like any other mortal, at best can utter only subjective, perplexed and simple opinions on God and the world.
Actually this
is
a gratifying thing.
At
the bottom, to philosophize simply
meaning into the nature of things, not spinning thoughts about other thoughts and writing another book about other
direct attempt to read
means a
books.
Therefore, since here what
the
we have
in
mind
is
a direct interpretation of
academic philosdependence on documents, writings and citable names to prop our argument. Very little or nothing will be taken for granted. For it must be possible to develop out of raw experience a line of thought that will be accessible to everybody, and to develop it in such fashion that everybody can follow it through. What does it profit us to drag in the name of this or that author, however prominent, if we are not in a position to explain the reference we have in mind in our own words? And would it make our thesis any more enlightening or true if we took refuge behind the authority of some philosopher whose authority, meanwhile, was being questioned by still other authorities? Our deUberations go straight to the heart of the matter. The world in which we find ourselves offers such aspects as these: birth and death, old age and sickness, happiness and misery, the results of man's scientific insight into nature and into himself. Thus a picture of relationships is generated, and a need to interpret the picture. In this manner what is known as a "Weltanschauung," an ideology, a way of looking at the world, comes into
situation rather than another contribution to
modem
we
ophy,
shall give
up
all
being.
As a word and concept "Weltanschauung"

it
has fallen into disrepute since
was taken over by the propagandists of the new German barbarism. Nevertheless, we feel we cannot dispense with it. The word as such stems neither from Marx nor Haeckel nor Hitler. It was discovered by the Romantics and popularized by Wilhelm Dilthey. And no one was ever less materialistic or trite than he. The word "Weltanschauung" a way of viewing the world intuitively arrived at in our opinion more intelligibly expresses
The Future
the
of Unbelief
23
for a comprehensive interpretation of all exist-
common human need
and beyond it, than does the word "rehgion." So thoroughly is the term "religion" steeped in Christian notions of faith and Christian emotional values that it has become virtually unusable except to connote a specifically Christian form of man's response to the cosmos. A restoration of the discredited concept of "Weltanschauung" to its original worth seems possible to us. It can be done if "Welt" (world) is understood as containing everything in the cosmos, known and unknown. Beyond this, "Anschauung" (contemplation) must refer to an
ence, within reason's grasp
intuitive as well as
a rational apprehension of the aforementioned totaUty. Actually everything that will be said in this book could be couched in
"religion"
terms of an interpretation of both concepts,
and "Weltan-
schauung" (hereafter, in English, world-outlook or ideology). If "religion" seems to us to be something larger, deeper and more inclusive than mere "ideology," at the same time we are aware that we still harbor a secret wish to fashion our own way of regarding the world, and one which
will
have no connection with what in

this the stage is spiritually
. . .
this
country
is
called "religion."
With
tions.
and psychologically
set for
our delibera-
Today
lives
the real Christian creed, viewed in the broad, scarcely survives as
of the West, as they live out their account the majority of those who call themselves Christians in their thinking and behavior have ceased to pay the least attention to Christianity's idea of God and the hereafter, or the Chris-
a vitally creative force.
and
The peoples
this takes into
tian notions of sin
pervaded
human
existence.
and grace. Christianity was once a faith that really But it has been supplanted by a kind of indiffer-
ent tolerance of that theological phraseology which, every Sunday, resounds
from pulpit and loudspeaker. It has come to be accepted as a ritual composed of humanitarian protestations, appeals and activities, pursued by dint of much expensive publicity. We, the inheritors of Western culture, live in the midst of all kinds of testimonials and memories of Christianity, as will many generations to come, and this circumstance still leaves a characteristic mark on our lives. Yet, in this same connection, the bulk of people who busy themselves professionally with the appreciation and evaluation of these Christian memorials are not motivated in truth by religious zeal, but by a mere philological or esthetic interest. In spite of this epigonal state of affairs it would be false and reprehensible to propagate the destruction of the inherited form and content of the Christian-Occidental culture. For "progress" of this nature would not only disrupt the historical continuum, but at the same time rob the world of the fruits of the past, riches without which neither present nor future can have
meaning. Therefore,
it is
not so
much
a question of opposing Christianity as
such, as of further awakening a consciousness of the spiritual condition of
mankind outside the framework of
inherited conviction.
24
GERHARD SZCZESNY
Looking back over the years, we are certainly justified in concluding none of the ersatz rehgions either those tried and found wanting or can those still extant, from materialism to psychologism to sociologism ever contain reality's plenum of being. At the same time these one-sided and counterfeit movements can be validly adjudged symptomatic of a basic change in the Western-European consciousness. There is no fault to be found with these experiments in the sense that they represent an attempt to bring man and the world into a system based on demonstrable truth. But where they are naive and false is in their assumption that any new correlation of reality must take, by all means available to the human intellect, the form of a reduction to a common denominator, an ultimate formula acceptable to all. As a matter of fact, in our own times it has been realized that to fill with rational material the "religious" void left by the overthrow of the Christian metaphysic is an impossible task. It is this discovery which holds us in irons, and which has led to a revival of all kinds of antirationalism and subjectivism. In whatever direction we look, toward philosophy, the arts, literature or science, everywhere minds are hard at work laying bare to view the background and the underground of fife, exposing the metaphysical and metapsychical, the magical, the unreal and the beyond-the-real. These analysts, having cut reality ignominiously open on their dissecting table, try to breathe new meaning and mystery into the corpse. Meanwhile, in defensive reaction to this proces, others adjure us to open our eyes to this vain and foolish "flight from God," and again seek refuge and safety in the true faith. The whole history of European enlightenment, these people say, is nothing more than a great heresy, a dangerous illusion and overevaluation of man's intelligence. It behooves us, henceforth, to restore Christ's message of redemption to its rightful supremacy, since from this message alone true knowledge and release can come. None but Christ's teachings can control reason's arrogant claims and again commit mankind to lost moral
that
and
spiritual values.
conviction is quite opposite. It is our belief that the process of transforming and widening the Western consciousness has been a necessary thing, and cannot be reversed. Within this development there may be errors in need of correction. But this does not hold true for the development as such. Not all the results of scientific study can be suddenly judged false simply because certain credulous men of science happen to draw unwar-
Our
ranted inferences from them.
Western man's emancipation from the

tian metaphysic
all
is
spiritualistic
basically characterized
and dualistic Chrisby a discovery of the unity of

things
is
being, which revelation has spilled over into the general awareness. the struggle to get to the
As
bottom of
all
pressed farther and
farther, the seeking
mind comes hard up against the fact that man and all the forces which motivate him and constitute him are part of the continuum of reality. The world cannot be divided into a life on earth and a
hereafter. Actually everything contains a "this side"
and a "that
side."
25
is
The
"this side" turns
out merely to be that part of world unity which
ac-
and "that side" the part of the whole which remains in the dark. The absolute dualism of the Christian concept of the world and the concept of deity linked to it, in this view have been done away with. What remains is the relative dualism of the know able and unknowable. This simply indicates that a portion of the world lies outside human experience,
cessible to the senses,
but "not outside the world."
breakdown of all forms of myth derivative from ignorance of reality's true relationships. Meanwhile a need has arisen to project a kind of metaphysic that will go beyond the accumulated facts of experience, yet stUl be rooted in experience. We find ourselves today in a period where the old and new outlooks overlap. On the one hand we see an attempt to force inductive truth into traditional doctrine; on the other, a need to formulate a system of belief resting easily and naturally on these same demonstrable truths. Even where Catholicism is still deeply rooted, as in such rural and backward parts of Europe as Spain, or in Latin America, places in which
are witnessing an inescapable
Today we
speculation and
Catholicism
is
still
a state religion seemingly in possession of unlimited

it is
power over men's
souls,
doubtful whether oncoming generations will

it
spontaneously accept the Christian tradition and carry
forward in time.
And
in the highly civilized,
dominantly Protestant countries
above
all in
the United States, the nation which henceforth will lead the Western
World
in these countries,
where Christianity
still
holds uncontested sway

trivial
over the cultural fagade, the Christian idea has degenerated into
moralism, which has no religious superstructure

of
it
left
is
at all,
projects the Babbitt ideal, of the

satisfied
man who
in all
and in lieu ways healthy,

settlers
normal and
of the
with himself, the world and providence. The
"New World" soon found
themselves in a situation not unlike that
of the Continental peoples at the time of their encounter with Christianity.
There was a great urge to create a new way of life. Indeed, this had to be done. This impulse merged with the individualistic, activist and missionary ideology of Christianity, without, however, greatly exciting any desire to think seriously about the religious and philosophical motivation of this
ethic. It is fairly obvious, in this general connection, that the
pioneer
spirit,
as linked with Christian individualism, played an essential part in spreading

practical humanitarianism
and the democratic way of
life.
But
it
is
only
a half-century ago that the problem of finding an ontologically sound and
reasonable foundation for ethic and being began to be discussed in America,
whereas in the Old World thinking people had been wrestling with the problem for centuries. As soon as man begins to live consciously, as soon as he ceases to be guided by imported norms and instead conceives a desire to do and strive, wish and want in terms of his own insight, so that he may bring his life, as he feels, into an intelligible relationship with all reality when this happens any lack of harmony between motive and deed, idea and configuration, the beUeved and the known tends to become intolerable. Having arrived
26
at this stage,
GERHARD SZCZESNY
man must either find new motives while continuing to act new forms of action while retaining his old motives. That is, he must either find a new way to accommodate his existence to the Chrisas before, or
on a non-Christian basis. In the end there is nothing left for him to do but to bring everything that he does, hopes or wishes into harmony with what he has come to believe is the
tian idea of faith, or rebuild his existence
nature of the whole.
Though modern
"unbelief"
it
is
a deep-reaching, collective phenomenon,

still
the process from which

individual apostasy. It
liever" into
results is
immature, which in turn limits
is
a gradual thing.
The transformation
of a "be-
an "unbeUever" does not threaten to upset the individual's psychic equilibrium, as a rule, since it comes about insensibly from a gradual widening of the consciousness. This process is occurring everywhere. The facts which make for doubt and which force human beings to think things over and form new ideas are reaching out into the remotest villages. These facts come into purview, too, without any special outside assistance. Whether remotely situated people respond to these forces, or let
them pass in indifference depends, of course, on their relative intellectual and psychological development. The spirit listeth where it will, but bears fruit only on fertile ground. If a genuine desire for enlightenment obtains, contemporary man has only to reach out his hand to satisfy it. If this
desire
is
lacking, better then that

is
As
far as prognosis
possible,
he remain secure in his old faith. it seems almost certain that among imwill
mediately ensuing generations the structure of consciousness will suffer a
fundamental change. This change

living
on the periphery of
civilization.
to the peoples of Asia and Africa, though here the collision between enlightenment and traditional religious beUefs, in accordance with the tremendous variety of the latter, very likely will
and primitive peoples will same prognosis also applies
occur even among populations stUI The thinking of erstwhile backward tend more and more toward the objective. The
give rise to motley results and bring
all sorts
of divers consequences to a
head.
lates
Not only Buddhism but Islam
as well contains metaphysical postu-
which might very well prove quite serviceable as a superstructure for scientific thought. We have already indicated the compatibility of the Buddhistic world-idea and rational knowledge. Mohammed's message, too, is anti-miraculous, and is characterized by a strong incentive, liable at any moment to be quickened, to make use of man's God-given powers of understanding in praise of creation. Both reUgions could have a great deal of appeal in the West, if they were skillfully maneuvered. The great conflict among the world's three principal religions has yet to come. There could be a phase of de-Christianization in which Buddhism and Islam might come to be r'egarded as acceptable substitutes. For men driven to despair will tend first to seek a new meaning for existence in already great and recognized systems of belief.
advancing
PART
II
THE WAY THINGS ARE
II
The
Way
Things Are
HAVE GROUPED
IN THIS SECTION
of what until quite recently everyone
EXAMPLES OF APPROACHES TO PROBLEMS would call "philosophy." As philoso-
phy became a professional academic disciphne a few centuries ago, however, its followers naturally enough became more exclusive. They not only rejected the old folk-sense in which anybody might have a "philosophical"
outlook or interest or temperament; they also rejected that
stiU unprofessional
less
vague but
range of thinking about man's condition of which the Kluckhohn and Leighton analysis of the Navaho "view of life" (p. 37) or the Marxist eschatology (p. 121) are examples. Nonetheless I shall
unashamedly, though with protective punctuation,

ophy."
I
call this section "philos-
The subdivisions by no means include all aspects of philosophy. Notably have been obliged to omit poUtical philosophy, epistemology (theory of knowledge), logic, and a good deal else. But I have tried to give a wide if unsystematic range of subject matter. I begin suitably with what is a fine example of the human need to understand the universe as a system, as something that has a beginning and may have an end, that may once have been chaos, but now has order in short, a cosmology. I have chosen to end this series of cosmologies with that of a contemporary astronomer, Harlow Shapley, to emphasize the fact that, though as a good Enlightened humanist he might not wholly accept the analogy, he, Uke the authors of Genesis, is composing a cosmology. Don't let him fool you with his "cosmographies"; he too is inventing a universe, as indeed is Whitehead.
To
Dr. Shapley, at
least, his is quite clearly a
consoling invention.
no trouble. Teleology, the knowledge of design, and eschatology, the knowledge of ends, final ends, not just current purposes, are both ten-dollar words, but both are worth the money. Here too the sequence from Plato to Marx seems to me at least to be obvious, and not at all rigged. The "classless society" is a heaven, a Utopia, an eschatology in short. Perhaps for many in the democracies of the free West this phase of a world-view is somewhat vague, remote, and certainly not apocalyptic. But I beUeve it is there, a less pressingly optimis-
The second subheading should
give
29
30
tic
THE WAY THINGS ARE
version of Condorcet's Utopia, to which has been added a dose of Evolution as seen by T. H. Huxley and Herbert Spencer. It is not only
Americans who believe that "prosperity is just around the comer." Indeed, the whole world has begun to believe that it ought to be there, or even
closer.
Ethics
is
a branch of philosophy
field,"
we
is
all
recognize. I have of course

limitless,
by
no means "covered the
which
almost
but I have again
attempted to present samples of ethical thinking which can bring home both the range of such thinking and the persistence within our Western
tradition of that range.
Finally, I
must apologize for the somewhat nebulous

trying to bring before the reader here
is
final subdivision of this section
"Transcendence: The Mystichave given Experience."

title I
the
What
am
that range of
human
(a
experience indicated by such colorless words as "mysticism," "quietism,"

and, in political thought, "non-violent non-resistance." question-begging phrase
if
By temperament
I
there ever
was one)
suppose
of understanding the mystical experience as the tone-deaf of understanding music. But no tone-deaf
is
am as man is
incapable
incapable
that music
man ought to announce
a fake, a wicked fake at that. Something very strong in Western intellec-
tual
and emotional habits resists Mr. Huxley's "perennial philosophy," though Westerners have long been addicted to somewhat simpler forms of transcendence achieved by alcohol or other drugs. At any rate, here too I have given the reader a sampling. There is much, much more available
any library for the mystic, transcend what these stand for though he may, simply has to make use of the stained and worldly counters of comin
munication
devices
we
call
words, has indeed to put them together by the worldly

rhetoric.
we
call
grammar and
A
Order: Cosmologies,
Cosmogonies, Cosmographies
GENESIS
Perhaps the cosmogony of Genesis should be taken as it comes. But I have followed the dominant opinion of modern biblical scholarship that there are in the story of the creation as it appears in Genesis two different accounts, one older
and more naive or "primitive," the other
later
and
closer to developed Jewish monotheism. I have therefore put the older
account
scholars
first.
who
linguistic
The two are of course so well put together by the Jewish them that it was only in the last few centuries that the and historical scholarship of the "higher criticism" was able to
edited
discern the fact of editing.
THE EARLIER ACCOUNT OF CREATION

Chapter 2
4 % These are the generations of the heavens and of the earth when they were created, in the day that the LORD God made the earth and the
heavens.
5
And
every plant of the field before

it
it
was
in the earth,
of the field before
grew: for the
LORD God
and every herb had not caused it to rain
the earth, and there was not a man to till the ground. 6 But there went up a mist from the earth, and watered the whole face of the ground.
upon
And
the
LORD God
man whom
formed
man
of the dust of the ground, and
breathed into his nostrils the breath of hfe; and

8 ^
man became
a living soul.
And
the
LORD God
planted a garden eastward in Eden; and

the
there he put the
he had formed.
9
is
And
out of the ground
made
LORD God
to
grow every
evil.
tree that
pleasant to the sight, and good for food; the tree of Hfe also in the
midst of the garden, and the tree of knowledge of good and
10
it
And
a river went out of
Eden
to water the garden;

.
.
and from thence
was parted, and became

15
into four heads.
And
And
the
LORD God
it
of
Eden
16
to dress
and
to
took the man, and put him into the garden keep it.
the
LORD God
commanded
the
man,
saying,
Of every
tree of
the garden thou mayest freely eat:

32
Genesis
17 But of the tree of the knowledge of good and
it:
33
evil, thou shalt not day that thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die. 18 H And the LORD God said, It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him an help meet for him. 19 And out of the ground the LORD God formed every beast of the field, and every fowl of the air; and brought them unto Adam to see what
eat of
for in the
he would call them: and whatsoever Adam called every living creature, that was the name thereof. 20 And Adam gave names to all cattle, and to the fowl of the air, and to every beast of the field; but for Adam there was not found an help meet
for him.
21
And
the
LORD God
caused a deep sleep to

his ribs,
fall
upon Adam, and

flesh instead
he
slept:
and he took one of

rib,
and closed up the
thereof;
had taken from man, made he a man. 23 And Adam said, This is now bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh: she shall be called Woman, because she was taken out of Man. 24 Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife: and they shall be one flesh. 25 And they were both naked, the man and his wife, and were not
which the
22 And the
LORD God
the
woman, and brought her unto
ashamed.
Chapter 3
Now
Ye
2
3
the serpent
LORD God
shall
was more subtil than any beast of the field which the had made. And he said unto the woman. Yea, hath God said,
not eat of every tree of the garden?

the
And
woman
said unto the serpent.
We may
eat of the fruit of the
trees of the garden:
But of the
fruit of the tree

it,
which
is
in the midst of the garden,

it,
God
hath said.
Ye
shall not eat of
neither shall ye touch
lest
ye die.
4 And the serpent said unto the woman. Ye shall not surely die: 5 For God doth know that in the day ye eat thereof, then your eyes shall be opened, and ye shall be as gods, knowing good and evil. 6 And when the woman saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was pleasant to the eyes, and a tree to be desired to make one wise, she took of the fruit thereof, and did eat, and gave also unto her husband with her; and he did eat. 7 And the eyes of them both were opened, and they knew that they were naked; and they sewed fig leaves together, and made themselves aprons.
8
And
they heard the voice of the
LORD God
walking in the garden in
and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the LORD God amongst the trees of the garden. 9 And the LORD God called unto Adam, and said unto him, Where
the cool of the day:
art thou?
and
Adam
34
10
cause
1
GENESIS
And
I
he
said, I
heard thy voice in the garden, and I was afraid, beI
was naked; and
hid myself.
he said, Who told thee that thou wast naked? Hast thou eaten of the tree, whereof I commanded thee that thou shouldest not eat? 12 And the man said. The woman whom thou gavest to be with me, she gave me of the tree, and I did eat. 13 And the LORD God said unto the woman, What is this that thou hast done? And the woman said. The serpent beguiled me, and I did eat. 14 And the LORD God said unto the serpent. Because thou hast done
And
this
thou art cursed above
all cattle,
upon thy
life:
belly shalt thou go,
and above every beast of the field; and dust shalt thou eat all the days of thy
15
heel.
And
I will
thy seed and her seed;
put enmity between thee and the woman, and between it shall bruise thy head, and thou shalt bruise his
16 Unto the woman he said, I will greatly multiply thy sorrow and thy conception; in sorrow thou shah bring forth children; and thy deske shall be to thy husband, and he shall rule over thee. 17
And
unto
Adam
he
said,
Because thou hast hearkened unto the
voice of thy wife, and hast eaten of the tree, of which I

saying.
commanded
thee,
Thou
shalt not eat of

it all
it:
cursed
is
the ground for thy sake;

life;
in sorrow shalt thou eat of
the days of thy
18 Thorns also and the herb of the field;
thistles shall it
bring forth to thee; and thou shalt eat
19 In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return unto the ground; for out of it wast thou taken: for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return.
20 And
of
Adam Adam
called his wife's
name Eve; because
she was the mother
all living.
21 Unto
also
and
to his wife did the
LORD God
make
coats
of skins, and clothed them.
22 f And the LORD God said, Behold, the man is become as one of know good and evil; and now, lest he put forth his hand, and take also of the tree of life, and eat, and live for ever: 23 Therefore the LORD God sent him forth from the garden of Eden, to till the ground from whence he was taken. 24 So he drove out the man; and he placed at the east of the garden of Eden Cherubims, and a flaming sword which turned every way, to keep the way of the tree of life.
us, to
THE LATER ACCOUNT

Chapter 1
In the beginning
God
And
the earth
created the heaven and the earth. was without form, and void; and darkness was upon
Genesis
the face of the deep.
waters.
35
And
the Spirit of
God moved upon
the face of the
il
And God
said,
Let there be
light:
4 And God saw the from the darkness.

5
light, that it
and there was light. was good: and God divided the
light
And God
called the light
Day, and the darkness he called Night.

first
And
the evening and the morning were the
day.
6 f
And God
said,
Let there be a firmament in the midst of the waters,
and
7
let it
divide the waters
from the waters.
And God made
the firmament, and divided the waters which were
under the firmament from the waters which were above the firmament: and it was so. 8 And God called the firmament Heaven. And the evening and the morning were the second day. 9 f And God said, Let the waters under the heaven be gathered together unto one place, and let the dry land appear: and it was so. 10 And God called the dry land Earth; and the gathering together of the waters called he Seas: and God saw that it was good. And God said, Let the earth bring forth grass, the herb yielding seed, 1
and the
12
fruit tree yielding fruit after his kind,

it
whose seed
is
in itself,
upon
the earth: and
was
so.
And
the earth brought forth grass,
kind, and the tree yielding fruit,
and herb yielding seed after his whose seed was in itself, after his kind: and
God saw that it was good. 13 And the evening and the morning were the third day. 14 f And God said, Let there be lights in the firmament
to divide the
of the heaven day from the night; and let them be for signs, and for seasons, and for days, and years: 15 And let them be for lights in the firmament of the heaven to give light upon the earth: and it was so. 16 And God made two great lights; the greater light to rule the day, and the lesser light to rule the night: he made the stars also. 17 And God set them in the firmament of the heaven to give light upon
the earth.
18 And to rule over the day and over the night, and to divide the light from the darkness: and God saw that it was good. 19 And the evening and the morning were the fourth day. 20 And God said. Let the waters bring forth abundantly the moving creature that hath life, and fowl that may fly above the earth in the open
firmament of heaven. 21 And God created great whales, and every living creature that moveth, which the waters brought forth abundantly, after their kind, and every winged fowl after his kind: and God saw that it was good.
22 And God blessed them,

waters in the seas, and
let
saying.
Be
fruitful,
and multiply, and
fill
the
fowl multiply in the earth.
36
GENESIS
23 And the evening and the morning were the fifth day. 24 % And God said, Let the earth bring forth the Uving creature after his kind, cattle, and creeping thing, and beast of the earth after his kind: and it was so. 25 And God made the beast of the earth after his kind, and cattle after their kind, and every thing that creepeth upon the earth after his kind: and God saw that it was good. 26 % And God said. Let us make man in our image, after our likeness: and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping
upon the earth. 27 So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him; male and female created he them. 28 And God blessed them, and God said unto them, Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth, and subdue it: and have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over every living thing that moveth upon the earth. 29 H And God said, Behold, I have given you every herb bearing seed, which is upon the face of all the earth, and every tree, in the which is the fruit of a tree yielding seed; to you it shall be for meat. 30 And to every beast of the earth, and to every fowl of the air, and to every thing that creepeth upon the earth, wherein there is life, / have given every green herb for meat: and it was so. And God saw every thing that he had made, and behold, it was very 3 good. And the evening and the morning were the sixth day.
thing that creepeth
Chapter 2
Thus the heavens and the earth were finished, and all the host of them. 2 And on the seventh day God ended his work which he had made; and he rested on the seventh day from aU his work which he had made.
3
And God
blessed the seventh day, and sanctified

all his
it:
because that in
it
he had rested from
work which God created and made.
CLYDE KLUCKHOHN
and
DOROTHEA LEIGHTON
The Navaho View of Life
The
late Clyde Kluckhohn (1905-1960) was Professor of Anthropology at Harvard. Dorothea Leighton, his collaborator, is the wife of Alexander
Leighton, a distinguished psychologist and sociologist. Both Professor Kluckhohn and Mrs. Leighton display a first-hand familiarity with the Navaho. This analysis of the Navaho "view of life" should bring home the universality of such "views." The anthropologist can, of course, supplyexamples of them in a very great variety. Almost all of them contain some
sort of "creation-myth," a phase not here
emphasized by our authors.
surprising
number have
stories of a total flood.
SOME PREMISES OF NAVAHO LIFE AND THOUGHT

To
understand fully the Navaho "philosophy of
life"
one must dig
deeper.
The very
fact that
The People
find
it
necessary to talk about their
"ethical principles" and their values suggests that not everybody lives up to them (any more than is the case in white society). But many characteristically Navaho doings and sayings make sense only if they are related to certain basic convictions about the nature of human life and experience, convictions so deep-going that no Navaho bothers to talk about them in so
many
words. These unstated assumptions are so completely taken for

nature and find
life
life as an ineradicable part of hard to understand that normal persons could
granted that The People take their views of
human
it
possibly conceive
in other terms.
Is Very,
Premise One. Life

This premise
All sensible
is
Very Dangerous
its
of course distinctive only in
intensity
and
its
phrasing.
human
beings realize that there are
many
hazards in living; but
From Clyde Kluckhohn and Dorothea Leighton, The Navaho (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1946), pp. 223-232.
37
38
to
CLYDE KLUCKHOHN AND DOROTHEA LEIGHTON
many
whites,
Navahos seem morbid
in the variety of threats
from
this
world and from the world of the supernatural which they fear and name. Of course this is largely a point of view. To some detached observers it might seem more healthy to worry about witches than about what you will live on when you are old or about the dreadful consequences of picking up some germ. Whites also tend to personify evil forces. They found relief
in "discovering" that
World War
was
all
due
to J. P.
Morgan. All human
beings doubtless have the tendency to simplify complex matters because

this gives the gratifying illusion of
understanding them and of the possibiUty
of doing something about them.
However, while this is clearly not a matter of black or white, The People do have a more overwhelming preoccupation than whites with the uncertainty of life and the many threats to personal security. The great emphasis laid upon "taking care of things," upon the industry and skills necessary for survival, and upon the ceremonial techniques bear witness to this. There are five main formulas for safety. Formula 1: Maintain orderliness in those sectors of life which are little
human control. By seeming to bring the areas of actual ignorance, and accident under the control of minutely prescribed ritual formulas, these prescriptions The People create a compensatory mechanism. are partially negative and partially positive. The Navaho conceives safety either as restoration of the individual to the harmonies of the natural, human, and supernatural world or, secondarily, as restoration of an equilibrium among nonhuman forces. This is achieved by the compulsive force of order and reiteration in ritual words and acts. The essence of even ceremonial drama is not sharp cUmax (as whites have it) so much as fixed rhythms. The keynote of all ritual poetry is compulsion through orderly repetition. Take this song which the Singer of a Night Way uses to "waken" lie mask of each supernatural supposed to participate in the rite.
subject to
error,
.
.
He stirs, he Among the
stirs,
he
stirs,
he
stirs.
lands of dawning, he stirs, he stirs; The pollen of the dawning, he stirs, he stirs; Now in old age wandering, he stirs, he stirs; Now on the trail of beauty, he stirs, he stirs.
He
stirs,
he
stirs,
he he
stirs,
he he
stirs.
He stirs, he stirs, Among the lands
stirs,
stirs.
of evening, he stirs, he stirs; The pollen of the evening, he stirs, he stirs; Now in old age wandering, he stirs, he stirs; Now on the trail of beauty, he stirs, he stirs.
He He
stirs,
he
stirs,
he
stirs,
he
stirs.
stirs,
Now Now
he stirs, he stirs, he stirs. Talking God, he stirs, he stirs; his white robe of buckskin, he stirs, he
stirs;
The Navaho View
of Life
in old age
39
Now Now
He
nous
the
wandering, he stirs, he stirs; on the trail of beauty, he stirs, he stirs. stirs, he stirs, he stirs, he stirs.^
this for
The song goes on like

Navaho
many verses. To
quality, but infinite repetitions in
white people it has a monotoan expected sequence seem to lull
into a sense of security.
Formula 2: Be wary of non-relatives. This is, to some extent, the obverse of the centering of trust and affection upon relatives. If one feels thoroughly at home and at ease when surrounded by one's kin, it is natural that one
should distrust strangers. In white society (and probably in
there
is
all
others)
a distrust of strangers, members of the "out-group." But the Navaho
fears also the other
members
of his
own
people
who
are not related to
him. Hence antiwitchcraft protection must always be carried to a "squaw
dance" or any other large gathering. This tendency to be ill at ease when beyond the circle of one's relatives is a truly "primitive" quality and is
characteristic, to varying degrees, of
most nonliterate folk

if
societies.
This formula
patterns,
threats.
is
closely related to the preceding one;
one wins security

to familiar
by reducing the uncharted areas of the nonhuman universe

it is
natural that unfamiUar
human
beings should be regarded as
Formula
3:
Avoid
excesses.
Very few
activities are
is
wrong
is
in in
themselves, but excess in the practice of any

as sex
dangerous. This
and of marked
To Navahos such things and gambling are not "wrong" at all but will bring trouble if indulged in "too much." Even such everyday tasks as weaving must be done only in moderation. Many women will not weave more than about two hours at a stretch; in the old days uimiarried girls were not allowed to weave for fear they would overdo, and there is a folk rite for curing the results of excess in this activity. Qosely related is the fear of completely finishing an)rthing: as a "spirit outlet," the basketmaker leaves an opening in the design; the weaver leaves a small slit between the threads; the Navaho who copies a sandpainting for a white man always leaves out something, however trivial; the Singer never tells his pupil quite all the details of the ceremony lest he "go dry." Singers also systematically leave out transitions in relating myths.
contrast to the puritanical concept of immorality.
This fear of excess
is
reflected also in various characteristic attitudes to-
ward
There is, for example, a folk saying: "If a child gets too smart, it will die young." The distrust of the very wealthy and very powerful and the sanctions and economic practices which tend to keep men at the level of their fellows have already been mentioned. Formula 4: When in a new and dangerous situation, do nothing. If a threat is not to be dealt with by ritual canons, it is safest to remain inactive. If a Navciho finds himself in a secular situation where custom does not tell him how to behave, he is usually ill at ease and worried. The white Ameriindividuals.
^ Washington Matthews, The Night Chant, a Navaho Ceremony, Memoirs of the American Museum of Natural History, VI (1902), 110-111.
40
can under these circumstances will most often overcompensate by putting on a self-confidence he does not in fact have. The American tradition says, "When danger threatens, do something." The Navaho tradition says, "Sit tight and perhaps in that way you may escape evil."
Formula 5: Escape. This is an alternative response to Formula 4, which The People select with increasing frequency when pressure becomes too
Doing nothing is not enough: safety lies in flight. This flight may take the form of leaving the field in the sheer physical sense. Navahos
intense.
have discovered that they don't get very far by trying to resist the white man actively; so they scatter. The white man then cannot deal with them as a group he can't even locate and exhort or admonish or punish them as individuals. Escape may be this sort of passive resistance or it may be
simple evasion, as
when
Navaho woman, who was otherwise

it
fairly
happy
in a goverimient hospital, left
rather than ask for one kind of food which

it
she desperately missed.

she found
it
Had
she asked,
would have been given
her, but
simpler to leave. Flight also takes the even
more
unrealistic
form of addiction
to alcohol or of indiscriminate sexuality. In effect, the
is in escape from my difficulties." These types of behavior in the face of danger are documented by the following episode related by a fifth-grader in one of the boarding schools.
Navaho
says,
"My
only security
down to the river, we saw a lot of cows at the river. My brother not scared of those cows that are at the river." Soon the cows were going back up the hill. We just climb up on a big tall tree and sit there. The cows come in closer and closer. We stay on the tree. Soon they come under the tree. My brother and I were so scared that we just sit there and not move. Soon my brother start crying. When the cows go away we laugh and laugh. My brother said, "The cows were scared of me." I said, "They are not scared of you." We say that over and over. Soon my brother got angry, then we fight in the sand. After we fight we go home.
look
said, "I
We
am
Premise Two. Nature Is More Powerful Than
Man
Navahos accept nature and adapt themselves
to her
can, but they are not utterly passive, not completely the
demands as best they pawns of nature.
They do a
and
great
many
things that are designed to control nature physically
to repair
damage caused by
to master nature.
the elements. But they do not even hope For the most part The People try to influence her with
various songs and rituals, but they feel that the forces of nature, rather than anything that man does, determine success or failure of crops, plagues of
grasshoppers, increase of arroyos, and decrease of grass. If a flood comes and washes out a formerly fertile valley, one does not try to dam the stream
and replace the soil; instead one moves to a floodless spot. One may try to what nature furnishes, such as by leading water from a spring or stream to his fields, but no man can master the wind and the weather. This is similar to the attitude toward sex, which is viewed as part of nature, something to reckon with, but not a thmg to be denied. Many white people have the opposite view; namely, that nature is a
utilize
The Navaho View
of Life
41
malignant force with useful aspects that must be harnessed, and useless, harrnful ones that must be shorn of their power. They spend their energies adapting nature to their purposes, instead of themselves to her demands.
They destroy
avert floods,
pests of crops
and they
level hills in
and men, they build dykes and great dams to one spot and pUe them up in another.
Their premise is that nature will destroy them unless they prevent it; the Navahos' is that nature will take care of them if they behave as they should and do as she directs. In addition to all the other forces which make the acceptance of the current program of soil erosion control and limitation of livestock slow and painful, this premise plays an important and fundamental part. To most Navahos it seems silly or presumptuous to interfere with the workings of
nature to the extent that they are being told to do. Besides, they believe it won't bring the benefits the white people promise. If anything is wrong these days, it is that The People are forgetting their ways and their stories, so of course anyone would know that there would be hard times. It has
nothing to do with too
many
sheep.
Premise Three. The Personality Is a Whole

This assumption also must be
generally think of
made
explicit
"mind" and body"
as separable units.
because white people so The whole Navaho
system of curing clearly takes it for granted that you cannot treat a man's "body" without treating his "mind," and vice versa. In this respect Navahos are many generations ahead of white Americans, who are only now beginning to realize that it is the patient, not the disease, which must be treated. Successful physicians who understood "human nature" have acted on this premise always, but it has found verbal expression and acceptance only recently; at present it is receiving the most publicity in the specialty known as "psychosomatic medicine."
Premise Four. Respect the Integrity of the Individual
While the individual is always seen as a member of a larger group, still he is never completely submerged in that group. There is an area of rigidity where what any given person may and may not do is inexorably fixed, but
there
is
likewise a large periphery of freedom. This
is
not the "romantic
individualism" of white tradition, but in
many
respects the
Navaho has
is
more autonomy, more opportunity
for genuine spontaneity than
the case
in white society. Rights of individuals, including children, over their im-
mediately personal property, are respected to the fullest degree, even

their wishes
when
run counter to the obvious interests of the family or extended family. White people seeking to purchase a bow and arrow that they see
in a
year-old
hogan are surprised to have the adults refer the question to the fivewho owns the toy and whose decision is final. If a youngster unequivocally says he does not want to go to school or to the hospital, that is, in most families, the end of it. Husbands and wives make no attempt to
42

features of the treatment that
is
control every aspect of the behavior of the spouse. Although individuals

are not regarded as equal in capacity or in
all
should be accorded them,
still
the integrity of every individual
protected
from
violation at the hands of

survival
is
Where
held to
more powerful people. depend on cooperation,

rigorously
the subordination of
the individual to the group
demanded. Such interdependence is felt to exist in all sorts of ways that are not, from the white point of view, realistic. Success in hunting is thought to depend as much upon the faithful observance of taboos by the wife at home as upon the husband's skill or luck in stalking game. The individualism which expresses itself in social innovation is disapproved as strongly as is that which expresses itself in too obis
trusive leadership.
nice illustration of
The following quotation (which, incidentally, is also a Navaho logic) brings out the Navaho feeling exactly.
You must be careful about introducing things into ceremonies. One chanter thought that he could do this. He held a Night Chant. He wanted more old people so he had the dancers cough and dance as old people. He also wanted an abundance of potatoes so he painted potatoes on the dancers' bodies. He desired that there should be a great deal of food so he had the dancers break wind and vomit through their masks to make believe that they had eaten a great deal. They surely got their reward. Through the coughing act a great many of the people got whooping cough and died. In the second change many of the people got spots on their bodies like potatoes only they were measles, sores, and smallpox. In the part, where they asked for all kinds of food, a lot died of diarrhea, vomiting and stomach aches. This chanter thought that he had the power to change things but everyone found out that he was wrong. It was the wrong thing to do and today no one wiU try to start any new ceremonies. Today we do not add anything.^
On
the other hand, where
autonomy does not seem to threaten the
security of established practices or the needful cooperative undertakings,

individuality
is
not only permitted but encouraged.
Men
and
women
feel
free to vary their costumes to suit their temperaments, to experiment with
variations in house style
and other technological products,
to
break the day's

dis-
routine with trips and other diversions spontaneously decided upon, while
displays of jewelry, saddles,
and horses bring admiration more than

a
approval.
He who makes up
new
secular song or coins a

is
new pun or quip
wins
many
plaudits. Unity in diversity
the
Navaho motto.
Premise Five. Everything Exists in Two Parts, the Male and the Female, Which Belong Together and Complete Each Other
With the Navaho
this
premise appUes to
much more
than biology.
The
and the stone of a greenish hue they call female. The turbulent San Juan River is "male water," the placid Rio Grande "female water." The mountains of the north where harsh, cold winds blow are "male country," the warm open lands of the south "female country." There are male rains and female rains, the one
clear, deep, robins-egg-blue turquoise they call male,
2
XLI
Willard W. Hill, "Stability in Culture and Pattern," American Anthropologist, (1939), 260.
The Navaho View
of Life
43
hard and sudden, the other gentle; there are male and female chants; male and female plants are distinguished on the basis of appearance, the male
always being the larger.
The supematurals,
as seen in the sandpaintings or

if
mentioned in the songs and prayers, are nearly always paired, so that Com Boy appears, one can be sure that Com Girl will soon follow.
Premise
Six.
Human
Nature
Is Neither
Qualities
Are Blended
in All
Persons
Good Nor Evil Both From Birth On
that children are
But the premise be beaten into shape seems completely absent from the Navaho view. On the other hand, white "Uberals" act upon the assumption that human beings can be educated into almost
The notion
of "original sin"
still
lurks in white thinking.

to
"bom bad" and have
complete perfection, that
is removed people will act in full some Christian groups hold that "grace" can permanently transform the wayward into paragons of virtue. The Navaho assumption is that no amount of knowledge and no amount of "religious" zeal can do more than alter somewhat the relative proportions of "bad" and "good" in any given individual.
if
ignorance
enlightenment. Similarly, at least
Premise Seven. Like Produces Like and the Part Stands for the Whole
These are two "laws of thought" almost as basic to Navaho thinking as European intellectual history since the Middle Ages. Of course, similia similibus curantur has been important in the thinking of most human groups since the Old
the so-called Aristotelian "laws of thought" have been in
Stone
Age
or earlier; but
to the realm of folk belief, whereas
thought of the
among whites this principle is now largely relegated among The People it still dominates the most sophisticated members of the society.
Let a few examples do for many. Because the juice of the milkweed reit is held to be useful in treating a mother who cannot nurse her infant. Since the eagle can see long distances, the diviner who does star-gazing must rub a preparation which includes water from an eagle's eye under his own eyelids. Witchcraft performed over a few hairs from an
sembles milk
individual
is as effective against the owner of the hairs as if done upon his whole person. In chants small mounds of earth stand for whole mountains.
Premise Eight. What Is Said Is to Be Taken Literally

.
the easy ambiguities, the fluidities of English speech are foreign to

is little
the Navaho. There
"reading between the lines,"
little
exercise of
the imagination in interpreting utterances.

girl
student was asking about a
who was
said
by a white person
girl
to
be feeble-minded.
He
asked,
"Can
so-and-so's daughter speak?"
The Navaho
replied very positively, "Yes."
Observation showed that the

this
uttered only unintelligible sounds.
When
thrown back at the original informant he countered, "Well, she does speak but no one can understand her." And this was said without a smile or even a twinkle in the eye.
later
was
44
Similarly, a Navaho will seldom take it upon himself to attribute thoughts or sentiments to others in the absence of very explicit statements on their part. White workers among The People find it irritating when they ask, "What does your wife (or brother, etc.) think about this?" and get the
reply, "I don't
know.
I didn't
close relatives or intimate friends have

other's opinions to
if
ask her." Their supposition is that spouses or enough general knowledge of each
answer such questions with reasonable accuracy even
there has been no discussion of this precise point.

it
But the Navahos do
not see
this
way.
Premise Nine. This Life Is What Counts
Because the Christian tradition

ever that this
life is
is
so prevalent in white society,
it is
neces-
sary to bring this premise out explicitly.
The People have no
sense whatso-
a "preparation" for another existence. Indeed, except
for the (by no means universally accepted) view that witches and suicides live apart in the afterworld, there is no belief that the way one lives on this earth has anything to do with his fate after death. This is one reason why morality is practical rather than categorical. While the Navaho feels
very keenly that

real, life is
life is
hard, his outlook

is
is
quite foreign to that of "Life

life is
is
earnest, and the grave
not the goal." White
so per-
meated with the
tradition of Puritanism, of "the Protestant ethic," that
much
Navaho behavior looks amoral or shiftless. Another reason would seem to be that Navahos do not need to orient themselves in terms of principles of abstract morality. They get their orientations from face-to-face contacts with the same small group of people with
whom they deal from birth to
death. In a large, complex society like modem America where people come and go and where business and other dealings must be carried on by people who never see each other, it is functionally necessary to have abstract standards which transcend an immediate concrete situation in which two or more persons are interacting.
J. J.
M. de GROOT
The Tao or Order of the Universe
The original or "primary" Chinese texts which correspond in a sense to our book of Genesis the cosmological basis of Chinese religion are really quite unreadable, even when nicely annotated, by most Westerners. I have therefore chosen a brief secondary account by a competent older Western Sinologist, the Dutchman J. J. M. de Groot (1854-1921) who was Professor of Sinology at the University of Berlin in 1911 when he wrote the popular
lectures that make up his Religion in China. In this account the central and most important cosmological concept of Yin and Yang seems to me
well presented.
UNIVERSISM IS TAOISM. INDEED, ITS STARTING-POINT IS THE TAO, WHICH means the Road or Way, that is to say, the Road or Way in which the Universe moves, its methods and its processes, its conduct and operation, the complex of phenomena regularly recurring in it, in short, the Order of the World, Nature, or Natural Order, It actually is in the main the annual rotation of the seasons producing the process of growth, or renovation and decay; it may accordingly be called Time, the creator and destroyer. Man through obscure ages has mused on Nature's awful power, and realised his absolute dependence on it. Thus the conviction has ripened in him that to exist and to live in a happy state, he should comport himself,
as perfectly as possible, in accordance with the universe.
Should
his acts
disagree with that almighty Tao, a conflict must necessarily ensue, in which
he as the immensely weaker party must inevitably succumb. Such meditations have led him into the path of philosophy to the study and discovery of the characteristics of the Tao, of the means of acquiring these for himself, and of framing his conduct upon them; in other words, Man, conceiving the Universe as an animated Universe, which imposed its will imperiously and irresistibly, tried to learn this will, to submit to it humbly, and to obey
it
implicitly.
From
J.
J.
M. de Groot,
Religion in China. Universism:
A Key
to the
Study of
Series of
Taoism and Confucianism. American Lectures on the History of Religions, 1910-1911 (New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1912), pp. 6-20.
45
46
J.J.M. DE
GROOT
It is evident that this was a catholic system, calculated to embrace the whole sphere of human life and action. It stands before us, in fact, as a system of discipline and ethics based upon observation, divination, and imitation of Nature, and giving birth to a vast compound of private, domestic, and social rules of conduct, extending even to political institutions and laws, everything in which was directed to this one aim: to attract Nature's beneficial influences to the people and its government and to avert its detrimental influences. A principal sub-division of that system was the worship of the Universe, that is to say, the propitiation of a host of gods, which being components of the Universe in visible or invisible shape, manifest themselves in its ways and works. The Chinese themselves, from a remote antiquity, have called the system the Jen Tao, or "Tao of Man," in contradistinction to the Tao of the Universe, which it pretends to copy. And this universal Tao is divided by them into two parts, namely the Tien Tao, or "Tao of Heaven," and the T'i Tao, or "Tao of the Earth." It goes without saying (as the Chinese themselves hold) that the Tao of Heaven is paramount in power to the Tao of the Earth, as it is in fact through Heaven, through its warmth and rains that the annual process of creation is performed. Heaven, accordingly, is the highest god which the Chinese possess. There is, indeed, in the Chinese system no god beyond the Cosmos, no maker of it, no Yahweh, no AUah. Creation is simply the yearly renovation of Nature, the spontaneous work of Heaven and Earth, repeating itself in every revolution of the Tao. The name Taoism, which we are wont to give to the system, is, as we see, correctly chosen, and there is no reason to banish it from our science of religions. In fact, the Chinese themselves employ the terms Tao kiao, "Doctrine of the Tao," and Tao mun, "School of the Tao." Contemplation of the Universe and study of its laws did not, in China,
develop into a correct science of Nature, dethroning the gods who were its parts and phenomena. Universism has outlived all ages, especially in
the conservative classical form, which
stated that
its
we know
The
as Confucianism. I
pristine principles are contained in the Classics,
the holy bibles of Confucianism and Taoism. the Yih king, esteemed holiest because
it
holiest
have which are of these books is

first
divulges
the
principles
Appendix, entitled Hi-ts'ze or "Appended Explanations," the authorship of which many Chinese scholars and critics attribute to Confucius, describes the Universe as a Uving machine or organism, which
of the system.
Its third
it
caUs Tai-Kih or "Supreme Apex," or "Most Ultimate." This produced the "two Regulating Powers" or Liang I, which are cosmic souls or breaths, called Yang and Yin. These souls represent the male and the female parts of the Universe, assimilated respectively with the fructifying heaven and the earth which it fructifies, as also with warmth and cold, and light and darkness. "There is," as the Appended Explanations state, "in the system
of mutations [of Nature] the
lating
Most Ultimate which produced the two ReguPowers, which produce the four shapes [or seasons]." It is these
The Tao or Order

two powers which
of the Universe
constitute the Tao, for the
47
explicitly "that the universal
Appended Explanations add Yin and the universal Yang are the Tao";
is
indeed the process of Nature or Universal Order
the annual mixture, in
various degrees, of cold and warmth, by which the seasons are produced
and the processes of birth and decay are carried

of production of
life,
out.
called yih, "changes or mutations"; "the processes of birth
These processes are and re-birth, or
are the yih," say the
Appended Explanations. Hence
the
title
of the Yih king, "holy
Book
Tao
of the Mutations." These mutations
being the manifestation of the Tao, and thus actually the

scholars frequently describe the
Tao
itself,
Chinese
as "the revolving mutations of the
Yin and Yang," or "the annual revolution of changes produced by the Yin and Yang," or "the changes which the Yin and Yang produce." Ancient and modem authors are wont to define the Tao of the Universe as "the way of the road of the Yin and Yang." The Yin is assimilated with the Earth, which is cold and dark, and the Yang with Heaven, which is warm and luminous; they are respectively the female and the male of the soul of the Cosmos, its Anima and its Animus. 1 have said that the Tao of Man is a line of conduct, which pretends to be an imitation of the Tao of Heaven and Earth, calculated to make him happy. It is prescribed by his absolute dependence on the Universe for his birth and life. This dependence is emphasised by the classical dogma that Man borrows his own vital spirits from the dual soul of the Universe, and thus actually is a product of these powers, as also by the fact that his material body is shaped out of the same elements which constitute the Universe. Indeed in the Li hi, the most voluminous collection of classical
books, we read, "Man is a product of the beneficial operations of Heaven and Earth, or of the copulation of the Yin and the Yang, and the union of a kwei with a shen; he consists of the finest breath which the five elements contain."^ Thus ancient philosophy described Man as a compound of a kwei and a shen, two souls respectively related, as the context of this passage suggests, with the Yin, or terrestrial matter, and with the Yang, or immaterial celestial substance.
In the same great classic, which has to the present day narrowly confined Chinese thought within the limits of
in vain for
its
doctrines,
we do not
search
more dogmatic teaching about
the nature of
Man's dual soul
and
its
relation with the Universe. It states that,
Ngo said, "I have heard the words kwei and shen, but I do not know meaning"; and that Confucius thereupon said to him: "The khi, or breath is the full manifestation of the shen, and the p'oh is the full manifestation of the kwei; the union of the kwei with the shen is the highest of all doctrines. Living beings must all die, and the soul which must then return to earth is that which is called kwei. But while the bones and the flesh moulder in the ground and imperceptibly become the earth of the fields, the khi or breath departs to
Tsai
their
move on high
^
as a shining light."^
The book The book
called Li yun, III. called Tsi i, II.
48
This instructive paragraph
into an indefinite
is
J.J.M.
the fundamental
DE GROOT
fucianist psychology. It teaches that the universal
dogma of Taoist and ConYang and Yin are divided

life,
number
of souls or spirits, respectively called shen

light, viârmth,
kwei; the shen represent

special qualities of the
productivity,
and which are the
which are the
Yang; and the kwei darkness, cold, sterility, death, The soul of Man, Uke that of any living being, consists of a shen and a kwei or p'oh; his birth is an infusion of these souls, his death is their departure, the shen returning to the Yang or Heaven, the kwei to the Yin or Earth. His body is, like Heaven and Earth, composed of the five elements. Accordingly, Man is an intrinsic part of the Universe, a microcosm, born spontaneously from and in the macrocosm. His shen is, of course, his principal soul, constituting his intelligence and life; his kwei represents his qualities of the opposite kind. This classical system of Universistic psychology, beside which no other
attributes of the Yin.
ever arose in China, defines the

creating,
Yang
an
as a supreme, universal shen, living,

infinite
number of shen and deposits and the Yin as an universal kwei, likewise divisible into myriads of particles, each of which, in an individual, may form his other soul. Accordingly, creation is a continuous emanation or effusion of parts of the Yang and the Yin, and destruction of life is a re-absorption of such parts. This process is the principal and highest manifestation of the Tao. It is achieved by the particles themselves, the Tao doing its work spontaneously. Those particles, the shen and the kwei, are innumerable. The Universe is crowded with them in all its parts; they animate every being, everything, even the things which are wont to be called dead objects. A shen, being a part of the Yang or the beatific half of the Universe, is considered to be in general a good spirit or a god; and a kwei, belonging to the Yin, is as a rule a spirit of evil, a spectre, devil or demon. As there is no power beyond the Tao, there is no good in Nature but that which comes from the shen, no evil but that which the kwei cause or inflict. It is the Yih king which testifies to the prevalence of these conceptions in ancient China, and therefore has established to this hour their authority as
which divides
itself into
them
in the various beings of the world;
holy dogmas of the highest order.
The shen are omnipresent; it is they which perform the unfathomable work of the Yang and the Yin. These two vital breaths [of the Universe] create the beings; their peregrinating hwun (or shen) are the causes of the changes [in Nature], from which, accordingly, we may learn the actions and manners of the kwei and the shen.^
According to one of the
Confucius not
less
classics, the
omnipresence of the shen and the

his time.
kwei, and their activity in the process of creation and production overawed
than
it
must have overawed every thinker of
"How bountiful," exclaimed he, "is the beatific work of the kwei and the shen! We look for them, but we do not see them; we listen for them, but do not hear them; they incorporate themselves in every being and everything,
3
Hi-ts'ze,
I.
The Tao or Order of
the Universe
49
without exception. They cause all people under heaven to fast and purify themselves and to array themselves in full ceremonial dress, and then, when they thus offer their sacrifices, they, like an ocean, seem to be over their heads
and
to their left
and
right."*
With these dogmas before
us,
we may now
is
say that the old groundwork
an Universistic Animism. The Universe being in all its parts crowded with shen and kwei the system is, moreover, polytheistic and polydemonistic. The gods are such shen as animate heaven,
of the Chinese system of religion
the sun and the

seas,
moon, the
stars,
wind, rain, clouds, thunder,
fire,
the earth,
any kind; men. And as to the demon-world, nowhere on the earth is it so populous as in China. Kwei swarm everywhere. No place exists where man is safe from them. They are especially dangerous during the night, when the power of the yin part of the Universe, to which demons belong, is strongest. They snatch the souls out of Uving men, so that these become ill or die. They strike or touch men, so that dangerous boils or tumours appear on their bodies. Ghosts of the illburied dead haunt dwelUngs with injurious effect, and are not laid until the dead are reburied decently. Hosts of demons not seldom set whole towns and countries in commotion, and utterly demoralise the people. Armies of spectral soldiers, on foot and horse, move through the sky, especially at night, kidnapping children, smiting people with disease and death, even compelling men to defend themselves with noise of gongs and drums, with bows, swords and spears, flaming torches, and fires. They steal the pigtails of inoffensive people. Literature in China abounds with demon-tales which are no stories in Chinese eyes, but undeniable facts.
mountains,
rivers, rocks, stones, animals, plants, objects of
in particular also the gods are the shen of deceased
Confucius himself divided the demons into three classes, living respec-
tain-demons
and in the ground. The mounmere presence cause drought and, as a consequence, the destruction of crops, hunger, famine ^which means in China the death of thousands, nay millions; they have harassed China like chronic plagues in all times and ages. Water-demons, most of which are souls of drowned men, cuimingly cause people to tumble into the water or to sink away in mud flats; or they paralyse swimmers. Demons which inhabit the ground are disturbed by, people who dig in the ground or who move heavy objects, and they then take revenge by disturbing the embryo in the womb of woman. A very large contingent is contributed to the demon kingdom by animals. China has its werewolves, but especiaUy its tiger-demons, ravening in the shape of men. Foxes and vixens in particular, but also wolves, dogs, and
tively in
mountains and
forests, in the water,
may by
their
snakes are notorious for insinuating themselves into
human
society for
immoral purposes, disguised as charming, handsome youths or female beauties; and not seldom they devour the victims of their lust, and, at all events, make them iU, delirious, insane. Evil is regularly inflicted upon men
*
Chung yung,
6.
50
by
all sorts
J.J.M, DE
of animals, even
GROOT
by
birds, fishes,
and
insects, especially after
assuming
into
beasts and beasts men, in order to play their tricks as devils, are the best illustrations of the sway exerted upon the Chinese mind by the system of Universism, which teaches the animation of all beings, men and animals equally, by the same Yang and Yin that constitute the Order of the Universe. As a consequence of this same doctrine, trees, shrubs, herbs, and objects are believed to send out their souls, in order to inflict evil on men. We thus see the Chinese people living in a world which is crowded on all sides with dangerous evil spirits. That belief is not banished to the domain
It is
human
shape. Those endless changes of
men into
of superstition or nursery tales.

religion, held to
a cornerstone of China's Universistic
be as true as the existence of the Yin, as true, indeed, as the existence of Tao or Order of the World. As the demons act in that Order as distributers of evil (because they represent the Yin, or its cold and dark half), they exercise a dominant influence over human fate, as do, in like manner, the shen, the spirits or gods of the Yang, who are the distributers of blessing. But the Yang is as high above the Yin as Heaven (which is the Yang) is above the Earth. Heaven, therefore, is the chief shen or god, who rules and controls all evil spirits and their actions. And so Chinese
theology has this great dogma, that no demons
authorisation of Heaven, or at least without
is
its
silent consent.
harm man without the This dogma
down in the Shu king and the Yih king. Heaven's Tao to give felicity to the good, and to bring misfortune upon the bad;^ the kwei harm the arrogant; the shen render the
eminently classical, being laid
"It is
We there read,
modest happy."^
^
Shu King,
the book called T'ang kao. Yih king, the appendix called Twan,
I.
LUCRETIUS
The Formation of the World
The Roman poet
T. Lucretius Carus (997-55? B.C.)

list
is
indeed for
many
admirers a culture-hero, inevitable in any
of the world's great writers.
His long philosophical poem, Of the Nature of Things, was designed to teach to Romans the system of the Greek philosopher Epicurus (342? 271? B.C.). The poem could hardly be further in spirit from what has for two millennia been the vulgar notion of Epicureanism, a notion long ago put neatly, if ironically, by Horace as "a hog from Epicurus' sty." But Lucretius almost certainly was true to the spirit of his hero Epicurus, of whose work we have only fragments. I shall cite Lucretius again, for he has always appealed to what I may call the existentialist temperament. Here below is his creation myth, austerely "materialistic," God or gods strikingly
absent; but the
myth
is
somehow
consolingly orderly in
its final results,
presenting a cosmology, inhuman indeed, but happily understandable by
enlightened
human
beings. Lucretius'
famous phrase with which our second
excerpt concludes, tantum religio potuit suadere

ened, who, like Lucretius himself one
metrical translation, though I
malorum (such
are the
crimes to which religion leads), has long been a favorite with the Enlight-
may
guess, fondly imagine that they
are without a religion. I have chosen the late William Ellery Leonard's
was tempted
to use the literal
and
clear
prose translation of Rouse.
But in what modes that conflux of first-stuff Did found the multitudinous universe Of earth, and sky, and the unfathomed deeps Of ocean, and courses of the sun and moon, I'll now in order tell. For of a truth
Neither by counsel did the primal germs
'Stablish themselves, as
by keen
act of mind,
Each
in
its
proper place; nor did they make,

Ellery
From Lucretius, Of the Nature of Things. Translated by William (New York: E. P. Button & Co., 1957), pp. 204-208, 4-6.
Leonard
51
52
Forsooth, a compact
But,
lo,
LUCRETIUS
how each germ
should move;
Many From immemorial aeons, in motion too By their own weights, have evermore been wont To be so borne along and in all modes To meet together and to try all sorts
Which, by combining one with other, they
because primordials of things. in many modes, astir by blows
Are powerful to create: because of this It comes to pass that those primordials. Diffused far and wide through mighty aeons. The while they unions try, and motions too. Of every kind, meet at the last amain. And so become oft the commencements fit Of mighty things earth, sea, and sky, and race Of living creatures.
In that long-ago
The wheel
nowhere be discerned abounding blaze, Nor constellations of the mighty world. Nor ocean, nor heaven, nor even earth nor air. Nor aught of things like unto things of ours Could then be seen but only some strange storm And a prodigious hurly-burly mass
of the sun could
its
Flying far up with
Compounded of all kinds of primal germs, Whose battling discords in disorder kept
Interstices,
and paths, coherencies,
And
weights, and blows, encounterings,
and motions,
Because, by reason of their forms unlike
And
varied shapes, they could not
all
thuswise
there
Remain conjoined nor harmoniously Have interplay of movements. But from

Portions began to
fly
asunder, and like

to block out a world.
With
like to join,
and
And
Its
to divide
its
mightier parts
lofty
members and dispose

that
is,
to set secure
The The
heavens from the lands, and cause

of ether separate
sea to spread with waters separate.

fires
And
and pure
lo,
Likewise to congregate apart.

For,
First
came together
the earthy particles
(As being heavy and intertangled) there all began to take The lowest abodes; and ever the more they got
In the mid-region, and
The Formation
of the
World
53
with another intertangled, the more They pressed from out their mass those particles Which were to form the sea, the stars, the sxm, And moon, and ramparts of the mighty world For these consist of seeds more smooth and round
One
was that ether, fraught with fire, First broke away from out the earthen parts, Athrough the innumerable pores of earth, And raised itself aloft, and with itself Bore lightly off the many starry fires;
thus
it
And And
of
much
smaller elements than earth.
And
not far otherwise
we
often see
And
the still lakes and the perennial streams Exhale a mist, and even as earth herself Is seen at times to smoke, when first at dawn The light of the sun, the many-rayed, begins To redden into gold, over the grass
Begemmed
with dew. When all of these are brought Together overhead, the clouds on high
too,
With now concreted body weave a cover Beneath the heavens. And thuswise ether Light and diffusive, with concreted body
On
all
sides spread,
on
all sides
bent
itself
Into a dome, and, far and wide diffused
On unto every region on all sides. Thus hedged all else within its greedy clasp. Hard upon ether came the origins Of sun and moon, whose globes revolve in air Midway between the earth and mightiest ether, For neither took them, since they weighed too To sink and settle, but too much to gUde Along the upmost shores; and yet they are In such a wise midway between the twain
As
ever to whirl their living bodies round,
little
And
ever to dure as parts of the wide Whole; In the same fashion as certain members may In us remain at rest, whilst others move.
When,
then, these substances
had been withdrawn,

the vast
Amain
the earth, where

all
now extend
Cerulean zones of
the level seas,
Caved in, and down along the hollows poured The whirlpools of her brine; and day by day The more the tides of ether and rays of sun
54
LUCRETIUS
On
The
every side constrained into one mass

earth by lashing
its
it
again, again,
Upon
outer edges (so that then,
Being thus beat upon, 'twas all condensed About its proper centre), ever the more The salty sweat, from out its body squeezed, Augmented ocean and the fields of foam By seeping through its frame, and all the more Those many particles of heat and air Escaping, began to fly aloft, and form. By condensation there afar from earth,
The high refulgent circuits of the heavens. The plains began to sink, and windy slopes Of the high mountains to increase; for rocks
Could not subside, nor all the parts of ground Settle alike to one same level there.
Thus, then, the massy weight of earth stood firm With now concreted body, when (as 'twere) All of the slime of the world, heavy and gross, Had run together and settled at the bottom,
Like
lees or bilge.
Then ocean, then
the
air.
all
Then
ether herself, the fraught-with-fire, were
Left with their hquid bodies pure and free.
And And
ether,
each more hghter than the next below; most light and hquid of the three,
Floats
Nor with
Mingles
All there
on above the long aerial winds. the brawhng of the winds of air
its
those under-realms below her

its fires
hquid body.
It
doth leave
heights
There
be overset in whirlwind wild, Doth leave all there to brawl in wayward

to
gusts,
Whilst, gliding with a fixed impulse stiU,

Itself it
bears
along. For, lo,
That ether can flow thus steadily on, on, With one unaltered urge, the Pontus proves That sea which floweth forth with fixed tides. . Keeping one onward tenor as it ghdes.
.
Whilst
human kind
Throughout the lands lay miserably crushed Before all eyes beneath Rehgion who Would show her head along the region skies, Glowering on mortals with her hideous face A Greek it was who first opposing dared
The Formation
of the
World
55
Raise mortal eyes that terror to withstand, Whom nor the fame of Gods nor lightning's stroke
Nor
threatening thunder of the ominous sky Abashed; but rather chafed to angry zest His dauntless heart to be the first to rend The crossbars at the gates of Nature old. And thus his will and hardy wisdom won; And forward thus he fared afar, beyond
The flaming ramparts
of the world, until
He wandered
the unmeasurable All.
Whence he to us, a conqueror, reports What things can rise to being, what cannot.
law to each its scope prescribed, boundary stone that clings so deep in Time. Wherefore religion now is under foot.
Its
And by what
And
I
us his victory
now
it is
exalts to heaven.
know how hard

tell
in Latian verse
To
the dark discoveries of the Greeks,
Chiefly because our pauper-speech
must
find
Strange terms to
fit
the strangeness of the thing;
Yet worth of thine and the expected joy Of thy sweet friendship do persuade me on To bear all toil and wake the clear nights through, Seeking with what of words and what of song I may at last most gloriously uncloud For thee the light beyond, wherewith to view
The core
of being at the centre hid.
And
for the rest,
summon
to judgments true,
Unbusied ears and singleness of mind Withdrawn from cares; lest these my gifts, arranged For thee with eager service, thou disdain
Before thou comprehendest: since for thee
I
prove the supreme law of Gods and sky.

the primordial germs of things unfold.
all creates, and multiplies and whither she resolves the end when each is overthrown.
all,
And And
Each
Whence Nature
fosters
in
This ultimate stock
we have
devised to
name
Procreant atoms, matter, seeds of things.
Or primal
I fear
bodies, as primal to the world.
perhaps thou deemest that
we
fare
An
impious road to reahns of thought profane;
But 'tis that same reUgion oftener far Hath bred the foul impieties of men:
56
LUCRETIUS
As once
at Aulis, the elected chiefs,
Foremost of heroes, Danaan counsellors.

Defiled Diana's altar, virgin queen.
With Agamemnon's daughter, foully slain. She felt the chaplet round her maiden locks And fillets, fluttering down on either cheek, And at the altar marked her grieving sire. The priests beside him who concealed the knife.
And
all
the folk in tears at sight of her.
With a dumb terror and a sinking knee She dropped; nor might avail her now that first 'Twas she who gave the king a father's name. They raised her up, they bore the trembhng girl
On
to the altar
hither led not
now
With solemn rites and hymeneal choir, But sinless woman, sinfully foredone, A parent felled her on her bridal day,
Making
his child a sacrificial beast
To
give the ships auspicious winds for Troy:

to
Such are the crimes
which
religion leads.
ST.
AUGUSTINE
St.
est of the Latin fathers,
Augustine (354-430), bishop of Hippo in North Africa, was the greatand a major influence in setting the orthodox
doctrines of
Roman
is
Catholic theology. Here in a brief selection from his
City of
God
is
that this
Augustine's explanation of the cosmology of Genesis. Note far from naive or fundamentalist thinking. To Augustine, the
if
"days" of the creation are a mystery,
not a symbol.
That the world is neither without beginning, nor yet created by a new decree of God, by which He afterwards willed what He had not before willed
OF ALL VISIBLE THINGS, THE WORLD IS THE GREATEST; OF ALL INVISIBLE, the greatest is God. But, that the world is, we see; that God is, we beUeve. That God made the world, we can believe from no one more safely than from God himself. But where have we heard Him? Nowhere more distinctly than in the Holy Scriptures, where His prophet said, "In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth."^ Was the prophet present when God made the heavens and the earth? No; but the wisdom of God, by whom all things were made, was there,^ and wisdom insinuates itself into holy souls, and makes them the friends of God and His prophets, and noiselessly informs them of His works. They are taught also by the angels of God, who always behold the face of the Father,^ and announce His will to whom it befits. Of these prophets was he who said and wrote, "In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth." And so fit a witness was he of God, that the same Spirit of God, who revealed these things to him, enabled him also so long before to predict that our faith also would be forthcoming. But why did God choose then to create the heavens and earth which up
From
^Gen.
^ ^
The Modern
i.
Saint Augustine, The City of God. Translated by Library, 1950), pp. 347-352.
1.
Marcus Dods (New York:
Prov. Matt,
viii.
27.
10.
xviii.
57
58
to that time
ST.
AUGUSTINE
He had
not made?^ If they

eternal
who
put this question wish to
make
and without beginning, and that consequently it has not been made by God, they are strangely deceived, and rave in the incurable madness of impiety. For, though the voices of the prophets were silent, the world itself, by its well-ordered changes and movements, and by the fair appearance of all visible things, bears a testimony of its own, both that it has been created, and also that it could not have been created save by God, whose greatness and beauty are unutterable and invisible. As for those^ who own, indeed, that it was made by God, and
is
out that the world
yet ascribe to
it
not a temporal but only a creational beginning, so that in
some
scarcely intelligible
created world, they
way the world should always have existed a make an assertion which seems to them to defend God
arbitrary hastiness, or of suddenly conceiving the idea
from the charge of
new idea, or of casually changing His will, though He be unchangeable. But I do not see how this supposition of theirs can stand in other respects, and chiefly in respect of the soul; for if they contend that it is co-eternal with God, they will be quite at a loss
of creating the world as a quite
to explain
whence there has accrued
to
if
it
new
misery, which through a

its
previous eternity had not existed. For
they said that
happiness and
misery ceaselessly alternate, they must say, further, that this alternation will continue for ever; whence will result this absurdity, that, though the
soul
is
called blessed,
it is
if it
not so in
this, that it
it,
foresees
its
own
it
misery
will
and
disgrace.
And
yet,
does not foresee
and supposes that

it is
be
neither disgraced nor wretched, but always blessed, then
blessed be-
cause
if
it is
deceived; and a
is
more
foolish statement
one cannot make. But

its bliss
their idea
that the soul's misery has alternated with
during
the ages of the past eternity, but that now,

set free,
it
when once
the soul has been
will return henceforth

it
no more
to misery, they are nevertheless
of opinion that
to
has never been truly blessed before, but begins at last
enjoy a new and uncertain happiness; that is to say, they must acknowledge that some new thing, and that an important and signal thing, happens to the soul which never in a whole past eternity happened to it before. And if they deny that God's eternal purpose included this new experience of the soul, they deny that He is the Author of its blessedness, which is unspeakable impiety. If, on the other hand, they say that the future blessedness of the soul is the result of a new decree of God, how will they show that God is not chargeable with that mutability which displeases them? Further, if they acknowledge that it was created in time, but will never perish in time that it has, like number,^ a beginning but no end and that, therefore, having once made trial of misery, and been delivered from it, it will never again return thereto, they will certainly
*A common
Deor.
xi.
^
i.
9;
10, 12,
question among the Epicureans; urged by Velleius in Cic. De Nat. adopted by the Manichseans and spoken to by Augustine in the Conf. also in De Gen. contra Man. i. 3.
The
Number
Neo-Platonists. begins at one, but runs
on
infinitely.
The Cosmology
of Genesis
59
admit that this takes place without any violation of the immutable counsel
of God. Let them, then, in like
it
manner
believe regarding the world that

in
too could be
made
in time,
and yet that God,
making
it,
did not alter
His eternal design.

That we ought not
to seek to
comprehend the infinite ages of time before the world, nor the infinite realms of space
Next,
we must
see
what reply can be made to those who agree that

reply, also, they
its
God
its
is
the Creator of the world, but have difficulties about the time of
creation,
and what
raise about the place of
creation. For, as they
here where
was created then and no sooner, it is, and not elsewhere. For if they imagine infinite spaces of time before the world, during which God could not have been idle, in like manner they may conceive outside the world infinite realms of space, in which, if any one says that the Omnipotent cannot hold His hand from working, will it not follow that they must adopt Epicurus' dream
of innumerable worlds? with this difference only, that he asserts that
difficulties we might demand why the world we may ask why it was created just
can make to
they are formed and destroyed by the fortuitous movements of atoms,
while they will hold that they are

that,
made by God's hand,
if
they maintain
throughout the boundless immensity of space, stretching intermi-
nably in every direction round the world,

the worlds which they suppose
God
cannot
rest,
Him
to
make cannot be
destroyed.
and that For
here the question

spiritual,
it
is
with those who, with ourselves, believe that

all
God
is
and the Creator of
existences but Himself.
As
for others,
is
a condescension to dispute with them on a rehgious question, for
they have acquired a reputation only

to a
number
of gods, and have
among men who pay divine honours become conspicuous among the other
philosophers for no other reason than that, though they are

the truth, they are near
it
still far from comparison with the rest. While these, then, neither confine in any place, nor limit, nor distribute the divine substance, but, as is worthy of God, own it to be wholly though spiritually present everywhere, will they perchance say that this substance is absent from such immense spaces outside the world, and is occupied in one only, (and that a very httle one compared with the infinity beyond,) the one, namely, in which is the world? I thmk they will not proceed to this absurdity. Since they maintain that there is but one world,
in
of vast material bulk, indeed, yet

tion,
and
that this
finite, and in its own determinate posiwas made by the working of God, let them give the
same account of God's

not follow that
resting in the infinite times before the

it.
they give of His resting in the infinite spaces outside of
God
set the
world in the very spot
it
world as it does occupies and no
And
as
other by accident rather than by divine reason, although no
human
reason
can comprehend why it was so set, and though there was no merit in the spot chosen to give it the precedence of infinite others, so neither does it
60
follow that
ST.
AUGUSTINE
we should suppose
that
God was
guided by chance when
He
created the world in that and no earlier time, although previous times
had been running by during an infinite past, and though there was no difference by which one time could be chosen in preference to another. But if they say that the thoughts of men are idle when they conceive infinite places, since there is no place beside the world, we reply that, by the same showing, it is vain to conceive of the past times of God's rest, since there is no time before the world.
That the world and time had both one beginning, and the one did not anticipate
the other
For
if
eternity
and time are
rightiy distinguished
by
this,
that time
does not exist without some movement and transition, while in eternity there is no change, who does not see that there could have been no time
had not some creature been made, which by some motion could give birth to change the various parts of which motion and change, as they cannot be simultaneous, succeed one another and thus, in these shorter or longer intervals of duration, time would begin? Since then, God, in whose eternity is no change at all, is the Creator and Ordainer of time, I do not see how He can be said to have created the world after spaces of time had elapsed, unless it be said that prior to the world there was some creature by whose movement time could pass. And if the sacred and
infallible Scriptures
say that in the beginning

it
and the
earth, in order that
nothing previously
assuredly
time.
for
if
thing would rather be said

the world
God created the heavens may be understood that He had made He had made anything before the rest, this then to have been made "in the beginning"
was made, not
in
time,
but simultaneously with
For that which is made in time is made both after and before some time after that which is past, before that which is future. But none could then be past, for there was no creature by whose movements its duration could be measured. But simultaneously with time the world was made, if in the world's creation change and motion were created, as seems evident from the order of the first six or seven days. For in these days the morning and evening are counted, until, on the sixth day, all things which God then made were finished, and on the seventh the rest of God was mysteriously and sublimely signalized. What kind of days
these were
ceive,
it
is
extremely
difficult,
or perhaps impossible for us to con-
and how much more

first
to say!
Of
the nature of the
days, which are said to have
had morning and evening,
before there was a sun
our ordinary days have no evening but by the setting, and no morning but by the rising, of the sun; but the first three days of all were passed without sun, since it is reported to have been made on the fourth day. And first of all, indeed, Ught was made by the
see, indeed, that
We
word of God, and God, we
read, separated
it
from the darkness, and

called the light
61
Day, and the darkness Night; but what kind of light and by what periodic movement it made evening and morning, is beyond the reach of our senses; neither can we understand how it was, and yet must unhesitatingly believe it. For either it was some material light, whether proceeding from the upper parts of the world, far removed from our sight, or from the spot where the sun was afterwards kindled; or under the name of light the holy city was signified, composed of holy angels and blessed spirits, the city of which the apostle says, "Jerusalem which is above is our eternal mother in heaven";^ and in another place, "For ye are all the children of the hght, and the children of the day; we are not of the night, nor of darkness."^ Yet in some respects we may appropriately speak of a morning and evening of this day also. For the knowledge of the creature is, in comparison of the knowledge of the Creator, but a twilight; and so it dawns and breaks into morning when the creature is drawn to the praise and love of the
that was,
Creator; and night never
falls
when
the Creator
is
it
not forsaken through
love of the creature. In fine, Scripture,
when
would recount those
days in order, never mentions the word night. It never says, "Night was," but "The evening and the morning were the first day." So of the second and the rest. And, indeed, the knowledge of created things conis, so to speak, more colourless than when they wisdom of God, as in the art by which they were made. Therefore evening is a more suitable figure than night; and yet, as I said, morning returns when the creature returns to the praise and love of the
templated by themselves
are seen in the
it does so in the knowledge of itself, that is the first day; knowledge of the firmament, which is the name given to the sky between the waters above and those beneath, that is the second day; when in the knowledge of the earth, and the sea, and all things that grow out of the earth, that is the third day; when in the knowledge of the
Creator.
When
when
in the
greater
and
less
luminaries,
and
all
the stars, that
is
the fourth day;
when
fly
in the
knowledge of
is
all
in the air, that
the fifth
animals that swim in the waters and that day; when in the knowledge of all animals
that live
on the
earth,
and of
man
himself, that
is
the sixth day.^
What we
are to understand of God's resting on the seventh day, after the six days' work
it is
When
said that
it,
God
rested
on the seventh day from

it
all
His works,
if
and hallowed work were a spiritual and
we
are not to conceive of this in a childish fashion, as
by the toil to eternal, not audible and transitory word. But God's rest signifies the rest of those who rest in God, as the joy of a house means the joy of those in the house who rejoice, though not the house, but something else, causes the joy. How much more intelligible is such
God, who "spake and
was done"
spake
^Gal.
1 ^
iv.
26.
5.
lit.
i.
Thess. V.
Comp. de Gen. ad
and
iv.
62
phraseology, then,
inhabitants joyful!
ST.
AUGUSTINE
if the house itself, by its own beauty, makes the For in this case we not only call it joyful by that figure of speech in which the thing containing is used for the thing contained (as when we say, "The theatres applaud," "The meadows low," meaning that the men in the one applaud, and the oxen in the other low), but also by that figure in which the cause is spoken of as if it were the effect, as when a letter is said to be joyful, because it makes
its
readers so.
Most
appropriately, therefore, the sacred narrative states
God rested, meaning thereby that those rest who are in Him, and whom He makes to rest. And this the prophetic narrative promises also to the men to whom it speaks, and for whom it was written, that they themselves, after those good works which God does in and by them, if they have managed by faith to get near to God in this life, shall enjoy in Him eternal rest. This was prefigured to the ancient people of God by the rest enjoined in their sabbath law, of which, in its own place, I
that
shall
speak more at large.

God and the World
Alfred North Whitehead (1861-1947) was a distinguished English mathematician
who
turned philosopher in his later years and migrated to the
United States. In collaboration with Bertrand Russell he published the

tica
three-volume classic of modern mathematics, the Principia Mathema(19101913). Both men, however, had incurably philosophical
to say later that
minds, though as philosophers their ways were to part. Whitehead used
he had come
to think of "Bertie,"
who remained
in the
empirical tradition and eschewed God, as shallow, while Bertie had
come
him (Whitehead) as fuzzy-minded. Certainly, as the following passage from Whitehead's major attack on the philosophical ultimates, Process and Reality: An Essay in Cosmology (1929), shows, he came to use the word "God" quite freely, though not in any orthodox Christian sense. This God's eye is hardly on the fall of the sparrow, and there are critics who feel that He is no fit object of worship. But Whitehead is not ashamed of his feelings and he is struggling manfully to avoid
doubtless to think of
the mechanistic implications of naive materialism.
so LONG AS THE TEMPORAL WORLD IS CONCEIVED AS A SELF-SUFFICIENT completion of the creative act, explicable by its derivation from an ultimate principle which is at once eminently real and the unmoved mover, from
this
is no escape: the best that we can say of the tur"For so he giveth his beloved sleep." This is the message of religions of the Buddhistic type, and in some sense it is true. In this final discussion we have to ask, whether metaphysical principles impose the belief that it is the whole truth. The complexity of the world must be
conclusion there
is,
moil
reflected in the answer.
It
is
childish to enter
upon thought with
the
simple-minded question, What is the world made of? The task of reason is to fathom the deeper depths of the many-sidedness of things. We must not expect simple answers to far-reaching questions. However far our
gaze penetrates, there are always heights beyond which block our vision.
From
Company, 1929),
Alfred North Whitehead, Process and Reality pp. 519-530.
(New York: The Macmillan

63
64

of
The notion
God
is
as the
"unmoved mover"
is
is
derived from Aristotle,
at least so far as
Western thought
concerned.
The notion
of
God
as
"eminently real"
a favourite doctrine of Christian theology.

the world
The com-
bination of the two into the doctrine of an aboriginal, eminently real,
came into being, and whose which has infused tragedy into the histories of Christianity and of Mahometanism. When the Western world accepted Christianity, Caesar conquered; and the received text of Western theology was edited by his lawyers. The code of Justinian and the theology of Justinian are two volumes expressing one movement of the human spirit. The brief Galilean vision of humility
transcendent creator, at whose
fiat
imposed
will
it
obeys,
is
the fallacy
flickered throughout the ages, uncertainly. In the official formulation of

it has assumed the trivial form of the mere attribution to the Jews that they cherished a misconception about their Messiah. But the deeper idolatry, of the fashioning of God in the image of the Egyptian, Persian, and Roman imperial rulers, was retained. The Church gave unto God the attributes which belonged exclusively to Caesar. In the great formative period of theistic philosophy, which ended with
the religion
the rise of
Mahometanism,
after a
continuance coeval with
civilization,
three strains of thought emerge which,

respectively fashion
amid many variations
in detail,
image of an imperial ruler, God in the image of a personification of moral energy, God in the image of an ultimate philosophical principle. Hume's Dialogues criticize unanswerably
God
in the
these
modes The three
of explaining the system of the world.
schools of thought can be associated respectively with the
divine Caesars, the
Hebrew
prophets, and Aristotle. But Aristotle
was
antedated by Indian, and Buddhistic, thought; the
be paralleled in traces of earlier thought; Caesars merely represent the most natural, obvious, theistic idolatrous symbolism, at all epochs and places. The history of theistic philosophy exhibits various stages of combination of these three diverse ways of entertaining the problem. There is,
however, in the Galilean origin of Christianity yet another suggestion which does not fit very well with any of the three main strands of thought. It does not emphasize the ruling Caesar, or the ruthless moralist, or the
Hebrew prophets can Mahometanism and the divine
unmoved mover.
It
dwells
upon
the tender elements in the world, which

it
slowly and in quietness operate by love; and
finds
purpose in the
rules,
present immediacy of a kingdom not of this world.
Love neither
nor
is
it
unmoved;
also
it
it
is
a httle obUvious as to morals. It does not

its
look to the future; for
finds
own reward
II
in the
immediate present.
SECTION
ought to be,
Apart from any reference to existing religions as they are, or as they we must investigate dispassionately what the metaphysical
God and
the
World
65
principles, here developed, require
on these
points, as to the nature of
nothing here in the nature of proof. There is merely the confrontation of the theoretic system with a certain rendering of the facts.
God. There
is
But the unsystematized report upon the facts is itself highly controversial, and the system is confessedly inadequate. The deductions from it in this particular sphere of thought cannot be looked upon as more than sugthe problem is transformed in the hght of that system. merely an attempt to add another speaker to that masterpiece, Hume's Dialogues Concerning Natural Religion. Any cogency of
gestions as to
how
What
follows
is
argument entirely depends upon elucidation of somewhat exceptional elements in our conscious experience those elements which may roughly be classed together as rehgious and moral intuitions. In the first place, God is not to be treated as an exception to all metaphysical principles, invoked to save their collapse. He is their chief exem-
plification.
Viewed
as primordial,
he
is
the unlimited conceptual realization of

is
the absolute wealth of potentiaUty. In this aspect, he

creation, but with all creation. But,
as primordial,
not bejore
is
all
"eminent
this in
reality," that in this abstraction
he
is
he from and "deficiently actual"

so far
two ways. His
feelings are only conceptual
of actuality. Secondly, conceptual feelings,
and so lack the fulness apart from complex integra-
tion with physical feelings, are devoid of consciousness in their subjective
forms.
Thus, when
we make
a distinction of reason, and consider
God
him
in the
abstraction of a primordial actuality,

fulness of feeling, nor consciousness.
we must
ascribe to
neither
He
is
the unconditioned actuality
of conceptual feeUng at the base of things; so that, by reason of this pri-
mordial actuality, there
is
an order in the relevance of eternal objects

is
to the process of creation. His unity of conceptual operations creative act, untrammelled
a free
by reference to any particular course of things. It is deflected neither by love, nor by hatred, for what in fact comes to pass. The particularities of the actual world presuppose it; while it merely
which
is
presupposes the general metaphysical character of creative advance, of it is the primordial exemplification. The prunordial nature of God
the acquirement
by
creativity of a primordial character.
His conceptual actuality at once exemplifies and establishes the categoreal conditions. The conceptual feelings, which compose his primordial nature, exemplify in their subjective forms their mutual sensitivity and their subjective unity of subjective aim. These subjective forms are valuations determining the relative relevance of eternal objects for each occasion of actuality.
He
is
the lure for feehng, the eternal urge of desire. His particular
it
relevance to each creative act as

point in the world, constitutes
arises
from
its
own
conditioned stand-
him
the initial "object of desire" establishing
the initial phase of each subjective aim.
quotation from Aristotle's
66
Metaphysics^ expresses some analogies
this line of thought:
to,
and some differences from, moved and mover is intermediate, there is a mover which moves without being moved, being eternal, substance, and actuality. And the object of desire and the object of thought are the same. For the apparent good is the object of appetite, and the real good is the primary object of rational desire. But desire is consequent on opinion rather than opinion on desire; for the thinking is the starting point. And thought is moved by the object of thought, and one side of the list of opposites is in itself the object of thought; ." Aristotle had not made the distinction between conceptual feelings and the intellectual feelings which alone involve consciousness. But if "conceptual feeling," with its subjective form of valuation, be substituted for "thought," "thinking," and "opinion," in the above quotation, the agreement is exact.
"And
since that
which
is
SECTION
III
There is another side to the nature of God which cannot be omitted. Throughout this exposition of the philosophy of organism we have been considering the primary action of God on the world. From this point of view, he is the principle of concretion the principle whereby there is initiated a definite outcome from a situation otherwise riddled with am-
Thus, so far, the primordial side of the nature of God has alone been relevant. But God, as well as being primordial, is also consequent. He is the
biguity.
beginning and the end.

the past of
all
operation, in
He is not the begmning in the sense of being in members. He is the presupposed actuality of conceptual unison of becoming with every other creative act. Thus by
all things, there is a reaction of the world on God. The completion of God's nature into a fulness of physical feeling is derived from the objectification of the world in God. He shares with
reason of the relativity of
every
new
creation
its
actual world;
jectified in
God
as a novel element in
and the concrescent creature is obGod's objectification of that actual

is
world. This prehension into

subjective aim,
God
of each creature
directed with the
and clothed with the subjective form, wholly derivative
from
his all-inclusive primordial valuation. God's conceptual nature is unchanged, by reason of its final completeness. But his derivative nature is consequent upon the creative advance of the world.
He
Thus, analogously to all actual entities, the nature of God is dipolar. has a primordial nature and a consequent nature. The consequent
nature of
God
is
conscious; and
it
is
the realization of the actual world

his
in the unity of his nature,
and through the transformation of

is
wisdom.
The primordial nature
is
conceptual, the consequent nature
the weaving
of God's physical feelings

^
upon
his primordial concepts.

called
Cf. Metaphysics 1072, trans,
to the appositeness of this particular quotation
by Professor W. D. Ross. My attention was by Mr. F. J. Carson.
God and
One
ity
the
World
God's nature
is is
'
67
constituted by his conceptual experience.
side of
This experience
the primordial fact in the world, limited by

It is
no
actual-
which
it
presupposes.
therefore infinite, devoid of

is free,
all
negative
prehensions. This side of his nature

actually deficient,
complete, primordial, eternal,
and unconscious. The other side originates with physical experience derived from the temporal world, and then acquires integration with the primordial side. It
"everlasting," fully actual,
is
determined, incomplete, consequent,
and conscious. His necessary goodness expresses

infinite,
the determination of his consequent nature.
Conceptual experience can be

physical experience that
is
but
it
belongs to the nature of

process
it is finite.
An
actual entity in the temporal world

its
to
be conceived as originated by physical experience with
of completion motivated by consequent, conceptual experience initially
derived from God.
God
is
to
be conceived as originated by conceptual
experience with his process of completion motivated by consequent, physical experience, initially derived
from the temporal world.
SECTION IV
The
perfection of God's subjective aim, derived from the complete-
ness of his primordial nature, issues into the character of his consequent
no obstruction. The world is felt in a unison of combining creative advance with the retention of mutual immediacy is what in the previous section is meant by the term "everlasting." The wisdom of subjective aim prehends every actuality for what it can be in such a perfected system its sufferings, its sorrows, its failures, woven by rightness of feeling into its triumphs, its immediacies of joy the harmony of the universal feeling, which is always immediate, always many, always one, always with novel advance, moving onward and never
nature. In
it
there
is
no
loss,
of immediacy.
The property
perishing.
The
revolts of destructive evil, purely self-regarding, are distriviality
missed into their
of merely individual facts; and yet the good
they did achieve in individual joy, in individual sorrow, in the introduction

of needed contrast,
The image
tive
and
it
is
yet saved
by
it is
but an image
is
its
relation to the completed whole.
the image under which this operais
growth of God's nature

of
best conceived,
that of a tender care
that nothing be lost.
The consequent nature

the world as
God
is
his
judgment on the world.
He
saves
passes into the immediacy of his
own
life.
It is
the judgalso the

is
ment of a tenderness which loses nothing judgment of a wisdom which uses what
wreckage.
that can be saved. It

in the
is
temporal world
mere
Another image which

nature,
is
is
also required to understand his consequent
that of his infinite patience.
The
universe includes a threefold
creative act
composed
of (i) the one infinite conceptual realization, (ii)
68
the multiple solidarity of free physical realizations in the temporal world,

(iii)
the ultimate unity of the multiplicity of actual fact with the prifact. If
term and the last term freedom of physical realizations in the temporal world, we conceive of the patience of God, tenderly saving the turmoil of the intermediate world by the completion
mordial conceptual
conceive the
first
we
in their unity over against the intermediate multiple
of his
own
nature.
The sheer
force of things
lies
in the intermediate
physical process:
is
this is
the energy of physical production. God's role
not the combat of productive force with productive force, of destructive

it
force with destructive force;
lies in
the patient operation of the over-
powering rationality of the world, he saves it:

ness.
his conceptual harmonization.

or,
He
does not create
more
it
accurately, he
is
the poet of the world,
with tender patience leading
by
his vision of truth, beauty,
and good-
SECTION V
from the permanence leads to the God, with eminent reality, in relation to an entirely fluent world, with deficient reality. But if the opposites, static and fluent, have once been so explained as separately to characterize diverse actualities, the interplay between the thing which is static and the things which are fluent involves contradiction at every step in its explanation. Such philosophies must include the notion of "illusion" as a fundamental principle the notion of "mere appearance." This is the final Platonic
The
vicious separation of the flux

static
concept of an entirely
problem.
Undoubtedly, the intuitions of Greek, Hebrew, and Christian thought have alike embodied the notions of a static God condescending to the world, and of a world either thoroughly fluent, or accidentally static, but finaUy fluent "heaven and earth shall pass away." In some schools of thought, the fluency of the world is mitigated by the assumption that selected components in the world are exempt from this final fluency, and achieve a static survival. Such components are not separated by any decisive fine from analogous components for which the assumption is
not made. Further, the survival
is
construed in terms of a final pair of
opposites, happiness for some, torture for others.
Such systems have the common character of starting with a fundamental intuition which we do mean to express, and of entangling themselves in verbal expressions, which carry consequences at variance with
the initial intuition of
permanence
in fluency
and of fluency
in
perma-
nence.
But civilized intuition has always, although obscurely, grasped the problem as double and not as single. There is not the mere problem of fluency and permanence. There is the double problem: actuality with permanence, requiring fluency as its completion; and actuaUty with fluency.
God and
the
World
its
69
completion. The
first
requiring permanence as
half of the
problem
concerns the completion of God's primordial nature by the derivation of

his consequent nature from the temporal world. The second half of the problem concerns the completion of each fluent actual occasion by its
function of objective immortality, devoid of "perpetual perishing," that

is
to say, "everlasting."
Either side can only be explained in terms of the other.
This double problem cannot be separated into two distinct problems. The consequent
nature of
God
is
the fluent world
become
"everlasting" by
its
objective
immortality in God. Also the objective immortality of actual occasions

requires the primordial
vance ever re-establishes

rived
permanence of God, whereby the creative aditself endowed with initial subjective aim de-
from the relevance of God to the evolving world. But objective immortality within the temporal world does not solve the problem set by the penetration of the finer religious intuition. "Everlastingness" has been lost; and "everlastingness" is the content of that the "many" absorbed vision upon which the finer religions are built everlastingly in the final unity. The problems of the fluency of God and of the everlastingness of passing experience are solved by the same factor in the universe. This factor is the temporal world perfected by its reception and its reformation, as a fulfilment of the primordial appetition which is the basis of all order. In this way God is completed by the individual, fluent satisfactions of finite fact, and the temporal occasions are completed by their everlasting union with their transformed selves, purged into conformation with the eternal order which is the final absolute "wisdom." The final summary can only be expressed in terms of a group of antitheses, whose apparent self-contradiction depends on neglect
of the diverse categories of existence. In each antithesis there
is
a shift
of meaning which converts the opposition into a contrast.

It is as true to
say that
God
is
permanent and the World

is fluent.
fluent,
as
that the
World
is
permanent and
God
It is as
true to say that
World
is
one and
God God many.
is
one and the World many,
as that the
It is as true to
say that, in comparison with the World,
God
is
actual
eminently, as that, in comparison with God, the

It is as true to
is
say that the World
is
World is actual eminently. immanent in God, as that God

World
immanent
in the
World.
It is as true to
say that
God
transcends the World, as that the
transcends God.
as true to say that God creates the World, as that the World God. God and the World are the contrasted opposites in terms of which Creativity achieves its supreme task of transforming disjoined multiplicity,
It is
creates
with
its diversities
in opposition, into concrescent unity, with
its
diversities
in contrast. In each actuality these are
two concrescent poles of
realiza-
70
tion
"enjoyment" and
physical pole
is

"appetition," that
is
is,
the "physical" and the "con-
ceptual."
For God the conceptual

in
its
is
prior to the physical, for the
World
the physical poles are prior to the conceptual poles.
A
tion:
own
in
nature exclusive, bounded by contradic-
a conceptual pole
its
own
its
nature all-embracing, unbounded

share of infinity from the infinity
by contradiction. The former derives

of appetition; the latter derives
its
share of limitation from the exclusive-
ness of enjoyment. Thus, by reason of his priority of appetition, there
can be but one primordial nature for God; and, by reason of their priority of enjoyment, there must be one history of many actualities in the physical
world.
God and
the
World stand over
against each other, expressing the final
metaphysical truth that appetitive vision and physical enjoyment have

equal claim to priority in creation. But no two actualities can be torn apart:
all. Thus each temporal occasion embodies God, and is God. In God's nature, permanence is primordial and flux is derivative from the World: in the World's nature, flux is primordial and permanence is derivative from God. Also the World's nature is a primordial datum for God; and God's nature is a primordial datum for the World. Creation achieves the reconciliation of permanence and flux when it has reached its final term which is everlastingness the Apotheosis
each
is
all
in
embodied
in
of the World.
Opposed elements stand

in this
to
each other in mutual requirement. In their
unity, they inhibit or contrast.
opposed requirement.
God and God is the
the
World stand
ground of
to
all
is
infinite
each other mentaUty,

the multi-
the unity of vision seeking physical multiplicity.
The World
plicity of finites, actualities seeking a perfected unity.
Neither God, nor
the World, reaches static completion. Both are in the grip of the ultimate
metaphysical ground, the creative advance into novelty. Either of them,
God and
the World,
is
the instrument of novelty for the other.
God and the World move conversely to each other in respect to their process. God is primordially one, namely, he is the primordial unity of relevance of the many potential forms: in the process he
In every respect
acquires a consequent multiplicity, which the primordial character absorbs
into
its
own
unity.
The World
is
is
primordially many, namely, the

it
many
actual occasions with their physical finitude; in the process
acquires a
consequent unity, which
a novel occasion and
is
absorbed into the
Thus God is to be conceived as one and as many in the converse sense in which the World is to be conceived as many and as one. The theme of Cosmology, which is the basis of all religions, is the story of the dynamic effort of the World passing into everlasting unity, and of the static majesty of God's vision, accomplishing its purpose of completion by absorption of the World's multiplicity
multiplicity of the primordial character.
of effort.
HARLOW SHAPLEY
Harlow Shapley (1885 ) is a distinguished American astronomer, Professor emeritus of Astronomy at Harvard, and an active and very successful popularizer of his subject and of the scientist's view of life. His cosmology, which in an effort to dissociate himself from theologians and metaphysicians he calls a "cosmography,"
the skeptic, Shapley's insistence
is
an admirable example of
its
kind.
To
on dwarfing man
in the universe is itself
example of the workings of human emotions religious emocosmology itself a piece of what has been called the "religion of science." One may question whether this dwarfing of man is actually a lesson in humility.
an
interesting
tions
and
this
AS
AN
INITIAL STEP IN
the universe
that
is,
to the questions
THE APPROACH TO THE CENTRAL QUESTIONS ABOUT "What, How, and Why" we shall
consider briefly the formal subject of Cosmography.

tions,
Among
other inten-
Cosmography as a research attempts to solve the most intriguing placement problem in the world the question of the location of man in the
universe of space, atoms, and
light.
Actually the end product of our efforts
only an approach to knowledge of man's orientation in a complex cosmos, not an arrival. Questions without answers will be a recurrent byproduct.
may be
Again we define Cosmography loosely as the field same relation to the cosmos as geography has to the
see later that
of study that has the

earth.^
Such a
defini-
tion requires a prior definition of the cosmos, and that
is difficult.
We
shall
cosmos means something more than the physical universe. Nevertheless, even though not sharply defined. Cosmography remains a
From Harlow Shapley, Of Stars and Men (Boston: The Beacon Press, 1958), pp. 17-25. Also available in paperback, Washington Square Press (New York: 1959), pp. 15-23.
^ Cosmogony and cosmology are related words frequently confused with Cosmography, and apparently ambiguous even to the lexicographers; the first, however, generally implies pretensions to knowledge of first origins; the second is commonly defined as a branch of metaphysics.
71
72
science
HARLOW SHAPLEY
a science with decorations. If at times
it
sounds a bit like
scientific
philosophy, or even like a phase of religious teaching, so

It
much
the better.
loss for religion and philosophy if they are infiltrated with and the groping^ of protozoa. For the time being at least we shall try to keep our explorations of cosmic content and activity on the descriptive level. Although Cosmography as here presented is an elementary science, it carries a considerable intellectual voltage, enough to charge to full capacity the more sophisticated inquirer, enough to shock the casual and uninitiated.
wiU be no
stars,
atoms,
Whatever else of significance we may later fabricate for life, it early becomes evident that the study of living things can contribute richly to Cosmography. An outstanding example is the direct association of chlorophyll with the age and structure of the sun and stars. This strange association ties the comphcated chemical operation of photosynthesis with the internal anatomy of stellar bodies. The primitive plants of the Archeozoic Era, the green algae, were operating the photosynthetic apparatus more than a thousand million years ago; and the complex leaves of the late Carboniferous plants also testify to a sun power that has been essentially constant from then to now. The Paleozoic leaves testify that three hundred million years ago the solar radiation was little if any different from that we now know. The unhurried evolution of stars (at least of one star, the sun) is thus revealed by the Carboniferous ferns. A slow evolution is indicated, but how is it managed? What can be the source of the solar power that radiates energy into space at the rate of more than four million tons a second and yet does not exhaust itself over the millions of years?
The fuU
plants,
story
is
too long for this essay.
We
simply report that to energize
the ancient algae and the tree ferns of the Paleozoic, as well as
modem
on the
and
activate the animals (including us) that are parasites
sun transmutes hydrogen into helium and radiation, thus providing abundant energy. Fortunately for us, the radiant energy is issued
plants, the
by a
istry,
self-regulating
power
plant.
is
The
collaboration of the various sciences
here nicely shown. Geochem-
radiology, stratigraphy, atomic physics,
and astronomy combine
in
the clear indication that matter can dissolve into radiation. of the sun's heat and thus,
The
fossil plants
(and animals), we learn by the way of paleontology, indicate the constancy by way of mathematical physics and astrophysics, reveal much about the internal structure of stars. There are many other tie-ups with biology in the study of the inanimate universe. In the running of ants we can measure an energy flow that is as closely controlled by temperature as the outpouring of energy from distant stars. To study adequately the early cUmates of this planet we must bring together the methods and facts from a dozen scientific fields, some of them
2
That word "groping"
will bear watching.
Protozoa are not the only animate
gropers!
biological,
73
some
physical.
When we
see that
many
rules of nature are the
same
for biological cells
and for chemical molecules, and when,
as later
elaborated,
we
accept the very impressive probabiUty of millions of planets
with highly developed organisms,
we must conclude
that the world of life
should be admitted as a part of the cosmographic program.
Cosmography, when ideally described and studied, involves an extensive and complicated content. It is too comprehensive to be handled thoroughly in brief compass. It appears to be manageable, however, if used chiefly as an instrument in human orientation. In what follows in this chapter we shall report on an attempt to survey sketchily the material universe, with principal emphasis on the basic entities, and on the extent to which the exploration of them and with them appears to pinpoint terrestrial man in the
over-all scheme.
Our
sense organs are definitely limited in
number and power, and our
experience in thinking about the cosmos has extended through only a few
more than a dozen of the revolutions of the outermost Too much should not be expected of us. We are tyros in the project of cosmic interpretation. Our accomplishments appear to be rather substantial when we look into the past, but have we not unrolled as yet only
millennia
scarcely
planet Pluto.
a fringe of one page of the total Cosmic Writ?
From where we now
stand in knowledge of the world

. . .
it
appears that the
basic entities of the material universe are
the simple-sounding "qualities"
or entities of space, time, matter, and energy.
Of
the four,
we
note that
matter and energy are two forms of the same thing, tied together with the
2 Mc^. most popular equation of our times (after 2 4), namely, E That equation says that to transform mass, M, into energy, E, or energy into mass in a quantitative fashion we simply apply the square of that most
fundamental of natural
relativity theory, also
+ =
units,
c,
space and time are

practical
time.
For our present
By way of the now commonly united as spaceapproach, however, we shall ignore these
the velocity of light.
postulates of equivalence that arrange our entities in
two pairs and consider
each one separately. But
first,
a few remarks on the simple technologies of
human
understanding.
THE FOUR ELEMENTARY ALPHABETS

History records that the human cultures of the past few millennia have been based to a large extent on the use of some simple aids to communication. These aids we shall call alphabets, widening the meaning of that word, since more than the ABC's are involved. Without the alphabets we could not readily ask and answer on a high level or communicate readily from the present to our posterity. Since their invention or emergence, alphabets have enabled men to coordinate better their knowledge and ideas, and to
74
HARLOW SHAPLEY
comprehend many phases of the surrounding complex world. They have served to reduce the seeming chaos and to lay the foundation for civilized cooperation among individuds and groups. The alphabets have also enabled men to advance their cultures and build stable societies. The primitive grunts, squeaks, and gestures that man brought up from the "jungles" did not long suffice for such a mind-evolving primate. He had no marvelous antennae with which to communicate to his fellows, such as those possessed by the ants and used by them in building up their elaborate societies. Evolving man, if he was to survive and grow as a cosmic interpreter, had to devise and use symbols for social communication, and he had to do so more effectively than did the other animals and his own jungle ancestors. For effective communication he had to associate these symbols with sounds and ideas. He needed, and many times did design, tables of symbols to aid in social collaboration. In brief, to build his colonies and eventually his intercolony cultures it became essential to devise and introduce writing, reading, and arithmetic.
few thousand years ago the elementary alphabets began to appear. in the form of ABC's and the 1, 2, 3's. The letters could be formed into words to represent ideas, and in the various isolated cultures the words became standardized. They were formed into phrases, the phrases into sentences, and in some of the higher cultures the sentences were assembled into chapters, books, and libraries. The number alphabet was basic in primitive economics, and, with the ABC's, eventually produced the business operations of the modem world. The numbers led to our system of weights and measures. Without these we would culturally be little adthe letters and the numbers alphabets
They came
vanced beyond the birds, bees, and apes. Two other elementary alphabets have long existed. One is connected with the entity Time and the other with the entity Space. They are, respectively, the calendars of days, weeks, months, and years, and the maps
that record space measures
restrial latitudes
cities,
on the face of the earth, that is, record the terand longitudes which permit the delimitation of fields,
and
states.
These elementary alphabets no longer suffice, either in the study of Cosmography, or in any general effort of trying to understand a world that has become enormously rich in information content. They met our needs up to a century or so ago. With the growth in amount of information, however, it has become necessary to supplement the elementary alphabets, and introduce logical classifications. Well-organized, small tabular categories have been set up to facilitate the acquiring of knowledge about stars, atoms, plant varieties, rock series, and the like. These tables, in a way, are minor
and specialized alphabets.
To
assist further in
our study,
it is
now proposed
to construct a
major
75
comprehensive alphabet for each of the four entities: time, matter, space,
and energy. Through the use of these tabulations we

natural complexities arising from so
shall simplify the
much
specific information. Fortunately, at
two of these basic tabulations are already

sional use.
hand, perfected and in profesin
They
latter,
are the periodic table of the elements for matter, and the
geological age scale for time.
The former concerns matter

. .
its
elemental
forms; the
time in large chunks.
ON THE GOALS OF COSMOGRAPHY

As
scientists
and dreamers we are curious about our position

is
in the plan
of the universe. Curious also about the "planning," and sometimes inclined
to talk about the planner. It
a fascinating enterprise.
We
ulating
and
in the
end a
satisfying experience in contemplating
can have a stimcosmo-
graphic facts and speculating on
human
fate
and fancy.
The
orientation of
man
is
of course an absorbing subject, in part because
he is an awkward and somewhat vain animal, but more because he is, whether he knows it or not, aimed at the stars. However ruthless he may have been in his jungle childhood and during his nonsocial past, he is now instinctively ethical, not so much because virtue may please his tribal gods but because it is good economic and social policy. He is bent also on comprehension. Moreover, to make an anticipatory statement, man now knows that he is participating, at a high and complex level, in a great evolutionary drive; he is going along, for the most part cheerfully, with such companions
as the vibrating atoms, the radiating stars, the condensing nebulae, the
groping protozoa, and the perennial forests with their aspiring birds and
butterflies.
As cosmographers we enjoy the decipherment of some of the rules of the cosmic game. We salute the biological winners when we recognize them, such as the fish and the club mosses which can trace their ancestry of unchanged forms through many geological periods; and we can
of a hundred million years ago, and Neanderthal
try to under-
stand the losers, such as the trilobites of the early Paleozoic, the dinosaurs
Man.
deep answers and to discuss our hope of contributing to future ages something more than our fragmented skulls in the fossiliferous rock. Naturally we
also occasionally venture to the borders of science to seek
We
are proud of the varied beauty of
human thought and
action,
proud of our
poetry and song.
We
are actors in a great cosmic play where the performers
include the atoms, the galaxies, and the eternal intangibles.
The prophets
of ancient Israel gloried at times in the magnificence of the
universe, which of course, in their time,
was centered on man. Those days,
however, were scientifically very early and chronologically perhaps more than a third of the way back to the beginning of human cultures. What the
inquiring
mind has
since uncovered
would have been
incredible
if
revealed
to the ancient prophets. Their vision was,
we now
see,
myopic. Our vision
76
is
HARLOW SHAPLEY
doubtless also deficient, but at least
we
recognize that
we
are taking
part in a play far grander than foretold in ancient times.

notices of
The advance
two or three millennia ago greatly underestimated the cosmic drama. Reverence then had to be supported with imaginings and superstition.
But the accepted

it
facts of
now
far transcend the fictions of not so
long ago. So
seems, at any rate, to those
who
look downward into atoms
and the biological cell and upward have no need of superstitional aid.
In our cosmic inquiries
to the stars.
To be
reverent,
we now
we may appear
boastful with regard to the
inadequacies of the ancient philosophies, but
we should
suffer a healthy
pride-shrinking experience in foreseeing that a century hence we, too,
may
be considered to have been primitives in knowledge and thought. Indeed, two of the present goals of the exploration among galaxies and atoms are
the
same goals
that should prevail in other fields of science, namely, to
strengthen the evidence
on which we can construct our current understand-
ing and to contribute through research as rapidly as possible to the obsoles-
cence of our presently cherished hypotheses.
and sounder ideas
in the future.
We hope for greater knowledge Deeper thoughts will surely come, wider
human
spread of the senses, fuller appreciation of the functioning of the

brain, higher ambitions for
nature
an operation
men
participating in the greatest operation of
of cosmic dimensions that might simply be called
Growth.
B
Purpose: Teleologies.
Eschatologies
PLATO
With the Athenian philosopher Plato (428-348 B.C.) we come to one of the greatest names in the history of philosophy. Indeed it has often been said that Plato and Aristotle, to whom we come next, between them set the pattern for all Western philosophical thought. This remark is surely a grave over-simplification, but if for a moment you can entertain a sheepgoat dualism of "idealist" and "realist" in the current common-sense use of those last two terms, then Plato is the Master for idealists, Aristotle the Master for realists. I have chosen from the Laws, a work of Plato's old age, a passage of straightforward teleology. But a warning: Plato, though I think that in his depths he was an "idealist," a transcendentalist, a distruster of the this-world of simple sense-experience, was an Athenian trained in one of the world's great "rationalist" cultures; he had a mind naturally farranging and disputatious (perhaps also a tendency to "countervail," to set himself against the current); and finally he used with great skill a literary
form, the philosophical dialogue

of view, in which his
among
is
participants with varied points
own
position
not always crystal-clear. In the whole
body of Plato's
bottom Plato
writings, then, there is
a kind of magnificent showcase of

I repeat, at
the workings of the philosophic

in
mind and temperament. Yet
any such dualism William James's oft-quoted one of "tender-minded" and "tough-minded" will do once more belongs on
the tender, other-worldly, transcendental side. It
is
highly significant that
Jefferson in his old age, turning to Plato's Republic, found his Enlightened
eighteenth-century
mind
horrified with "the whimsies, the puerilities,
unintelligible jargon" of the
work
(see his letter to
and John Adams, dated July
5, 1814).
Cleinias. It
is
a matter of no small consequence, in some
way or
other
to prove that there are Gods,
and
that they are good,
and regard
justice
more than men
do.
The demonstration
of this
noblest prelude of aU our laws.
And
therefore, without impatience,

Jowett, with an introduction
would be the best and and

by R.
From Plato, The Dialogues. Translated by B. Demos (New York: Random House, 1937), pp.
78
629-634.
79
let us unreservedly consider the whole matter, summoning power of persuasion which we possess. Athenian. Seeing you thus in earnest, I would fain offer up a prayer that but I must proceed at once. Who can be calm when he I may succeed: is called upon to prove the existence of the Gods? Who can avoid hating and abhorring the men who are and have been the cause of this argument; I speak of those who will not believe the tales which they have heard as babes and sucklings from their mothers and nurses, repeated by them both in jest and earnest, like charms, who have also heard them in the sacrificial sights and sounds delightful prayers, and seen sights accompanying them, to children, and their parents during the sacrifices showing an intense earnestness on behalf of their children and of themselves, and with eager interest talking to the Gods, and beseeching them, as though they were firmly convinced of their existence; who likewise see and hear the prostrations and invocations which are made by Hellenes and barbarians at the rising and setting of the sun and moon, in all the vicissitudes of life, not as if they thought that there were no Gods, but as if there could be no doubt of their existence, and no suspicion of their non-existence; when men, knowing all these things, despise them on no real grounds, as would be admitted by all who have any particle of intelligence, and when they force us to say what we are now saying, how can any one in gentle terms remonstrate with the like of them, when he has to begin by proving to them the very existence of the Gods? Yet the attempt must be made; for it would be unseemly that one half of mankind should go mad in their lust of pleasure, and the other half in their indignation at such per-
without hurry,
up
all
the
sons.
Our
address to these lost and perverted natures should not be spoken
in passion; let us suppose ourselves to select
reason with him, smothering our anger:

opinions which you
O my
some one
son,
of them, and gently

will say to
we
him, you
of the
are young, and the advance of time will
make you
reverse
many
Wait awhile, and do not attempt to judge at present of the highest things; and that is the highest of which you now think nothing to know the Gods rightly and to live accordingly. And in the first place let me indicate to you one point which is of great importance, and about which I cannot be deceived: You and your friends are not the first who have held this opinion about the Gods. There have always been persons more or less numerous who have had the same disorder. I have known many of them, and can tell you, that no one who had taken up in youth this opinion, that the Gods do not exist, ever continued in the same until he was old; the two other notions certainly do continue in some cases, but not in many; the notion, I mean, that the Gods exist, but take no heed of human things, and the other notion that they do take heed of them, but are easily propitiated with sacrifices and prayers. As to the opinion about the Gods which may some day become clear to you, I advise you go wait and consider if it be true or not; ask of others, and above all of the legislator. In the meantime take care that you do not offend
hold.
now
80
against the Gods.
PLATO
For the duty of the
legislator is
and always
will
be to
teach you the truth of these matters.

Cle.
Our
address, Stranger, thus far,
is
excellent.
I
Ath. Quite true, Megillus and Cleinias, but unconsciously hghted on a strange doctrine.
Cle.
am
afraid that
we have
What
doctiine do you
all
mean?
many.
will be-
Ath. The wisest of

Cle. I wish that
doctrines, in the opinion of

plainer.
you would speak

all
Ath. The doctrine that
things
come, some by nature, some by
art,
do become, have become, and and some by chance.

right; at
is
Cle. Is not that true? Ath. Well, philosophers are probably
foUow
in their track,
and examine what
the
any rate we may as well meaning of them and their
disciples.
Cle. By all means. Ath. They say that the greatest and fairest thmgs are the work of nature and of chance, the lesser of art, which, receiving from nature the greater and primeval creations, moulds and fashions all those lesser works which
are generally termed

Cle.
artificial.
How
is
that?
still more clearly. They say that fire and by nature and chance, and none of them the bodies which come next in order, earth, and sun, they have been created by means of these absolutely
Ath. I will explain

water, and earth and
my
meaning
air, all exist
by art, and that as to and moon, and stars,
inanimate existences. The elements are severally moved by chance and some inherent force according to certain affinities among them of hot with cold, or of dry with moist, or of soft with hard, and according to all the
other accidental admixtures of opposites which have been formed by necessity. And after this fashion and in this manner the whole heaven has been created, and all that is in the heaven, as well as animals and all plants, and all the seasons come from these elements, not by the action of mmd,
as they say, or of any God, or from art, but as I was saying, by nature and chance only. Art sprang up afterwards and out of these, mortal and of mortal birth, and produced in play certain images and very partial imitations of the truth, having
painting create and their
an affinity to one another, such as music and companion arts. And there are other arts which have a serious purpose, and these co-operate with nature, such, for example, as medicine, and husbandry, and gymnastic. And they say that politics co-operate with nature, but in a less degree, and have more of art; also that legislation is entirely a work of art, and is based on assumptions which are not true. Cle. How do you mean?
Ath. In the
Gods
exist
first place, my dear friend, these people would say that the not by nature, but by art, and by the laws of states, which are
different in different places, according to the
them; and that the honourable
is
agreement of those who make one thing by nature and another thing
81
by law, and that the principles of justice have no existence at all in nature, but that mankind are always disputing about them and altering them; and that the alterations which are made by art and by law have no basis in
time at which they men, poets and prose writers, which find a way into the minds of youth. They are told by them that the highest right is might, and in this way the young fall into impieties, under the idea that the Gods are not such as the law bids them imagine; and hence arise factions, these philosophers inviting them to lead a true life according to nature, that is, to live in real dominion over others, and not
nature, but are of authority for the
at the
are made.
These, my
moment and
friends, are the sayings of wise
in legal subjection to them.
Cle.
is
What
a dreadful picture, Stranger, have you given, and

is
how
great
the injury which

families!
thus inflicted on young
men
to the ruin both of states
and
Ath. True, Cleinias; but then what should the lawgiver do

evil is of
all
when
this
long standing? should he only rise up in the state and threaten

if
mankind, proclaiming that
they will not say and think that the
Gods
are such as the law ordains (and this
may be
extended generally to the
just, and to all the highest things, and to all that relates and vice), and if they will not make their actions conform to the copy which the law gives them, then he who refuses to obey the law shall die, or suffer stripes and bonds, or privation of citizenship, or in some cases be punished by loss of property and exile? Should he not rather, when he is making laws for men, at the same time infuse the spirit of persuasion into his words, and mitigate the severity of them as far as he can? Cle. Why, Stranger, if such persuasion be at all possible, then a legislator who has anything in him ought never to weary of persuading men; he ought
honourable, the
to virtue
to leave nothing unsaid in support of the ancient opinion that there are
Gods, and of all those other truths which you were just now mentioning; he ought to support the law and also art, and acknowledge that both alike exist by nature, and no less than nature, if they are the creations of mind
you appear to me to maintain, and I am disposed to agree with you in thinking. Ath. Yes, my enthusiastic Cleinias; but are not these things when spoken to a multitude hard to be understood, not to mention that they take up a
in accordance with right reason, as
dismal length of time?

Cle. Why, Stranger, shall we, whose patience failed not when drinking or music were the themes of discourse, weary now of discoursing about
the Gods, and about divine things?

tion
is
And
the greatest help to rational legisla-
be put to the
down are always at rest; they can any future time, and therefore, if on first hearing they seem difficult, there is no reason for apprehension about them, because any man however dull can go over them and consider them again and again; nor if they are tedious but useful, is there any reason or religion, as it seems to me, in any man refusing to maintain the principles of them to the utmost
that the laws
test at
when once
written
of his power.
82
Megillus. Stranger,
I like
PLATO
what Cleinias
is
saying.
Ath. Yes, Megillus, and

courses were not
we should do as he proposes; for if impious disscattered, as I may say, throughout the world, there would
have been no need for any vindication of the existence of the Gods ^but seeing that they are spread far and wide, such arguments are needed; and
who
should
come
to the rescue of the greatest laws,
when they
are being
undermined by bad men, but the legislator hunself? Meg. There is no more proper champion of them. Ath. Well, then, tell me, Cleinias, for I must ask you to be my partner, does not he who talks in this way conceive fire and water and earth and air to be the first elements of all things? these he calls nature, and out of these he supposes the soul to be formed afterwards; and this is not a mere conjecture of ours about his meaning, but is what he really means. Cle. Very true. Ath. Then, by Heaven, we have discovered the source of this vain opinion of all those physical investigators; and I would have you examine their arguments with the utmost care, for their impiety is a very serious matter; they not only make a bad and mistaken use of argument, but they lead away the minds of others: that is my opinion of them.
Cle.
You
are right; but I should like to
Ath.
Cle.
I fear that the
argument
know how may seem singular.
this
happens.
Do
not hestitate. Stranger; I see that you are afraid of such a disif
cussion carrying you beyond the limits of legislation. But
there be
no
other
way
of showing our agreement in the belief that there are Gods, of

is
whom
who
Ath. Then
aflBrm that
said now to approve, let us take this way, my good sir. suppose that I must repeat the singular argument of those manufacture the soul according to their own impious notions; they
the law
which is the first cause of the generation and destruction of all be not first, but last, and that which is last to be first, and hence they have fallen into error about the true nature of the Gods. Cle. Still I do not understand you. Ath. Nearly all of them, my friends, seem to be ignorant of the nature
things, to
and power of the
soul, especially in
what
relates to her origin: they

all
do not
is
know
that she
is
among
the
first
of things, and before
bodies,
and
the
chief author of their changes
and transpositions. And if this is true, and if the soul is older than the body, must not the things which are of the soul's kindred be of necessity prior to those which appertain to the body?
Cle. Certainly.
to that
Ath. Then thought and attention and mind and art and law will be prior which is hard and soft and heavy and light; and the great and
primitive works and actions will be works of art; they will be the
after
first, and them will come nature and works of nature, which however is a wrong term for men to apply to them; these will follow, and will be under the government of art and mind. Cle. But why is the word "nature" wrong?
g3
Ath. Because those who use the term mean to say that nature is the first creative power; but if the soul turn out to be the primeval element, and not fire or air, then in the truest sense and beyond other things the soul may be said to exist by nature; and this would be true if you proved that
the soul
is
older than the body, but not otherwise.
ARISTOTLE
The Order of Being
Among
ters,
philosophers in the narrower sense
humanists
as contrasted with
until the last
men
of let-
Aristotle
(384-322 B.C.) has
few centuries
been simply the philosopher. His "realism" is in a sense a foil to Plato's "idealism," and he very definitely attacks some of Plato's ideas. But in the
modern sense
Plato.
of
"scientific
materialism" or
"mechanism" or
"logical
positivism," Aristotle
was
practically as
much a
transcendentalist as
was
His range, which includes writings on subjects we now call the "natural sciences," is greater than Plato's. Many scholars hold that we do not have Aristotle's own writings, but a rather full set of notes on his lectures taken by various hands. For his work totally lacks the literary graces; it is highly technical, and for a modern American, hard reading even in
the best translation. I have therefore used the excellent recent exposition of
Aristotle's position
by
J.
H. Randall,
Jr. This, too,
requires concentration
from the reader, but
if he can penetrate Aristotle's mind he will have learned a great deal about the Western philosophical tradition. In particu^
lar, the famous "four causes" have for two millennia bridged for many the gap between such concepts as "cause-and-effect" and "moral purpose."
FIRST PHILOSOPHY
Ousia as a Subject of Discourse
Being, to on,
is
said in
many ways,
ti
as
is
set forth in detail in the Categories.

it is
Now
being
of
is
all
these senses which the term "being" has,

estin)
clear that "first

all
the 'what' (to
which denotes the ousia, and
other things
are said to 'be' because they are either quantities or qualities or affections or
some other such

or a
thing, of
such a being." For when

say that
it is
we
describe the quality
of a particular thing,
we man; but when we
good or bad, and not five feet high, describe "what" it is, we say not that it is white
Jr.,
From John Herman

84
Randall,
Aristotle
(New York: Columbia
University
Press, 1960), pp. 116-125.
The Order
of Being
it is
85
"a man" or "a god." None of these
it is
or hot or five feet high, but that

existence, or
other things that can be said about a thing has by nature an independent
can be separated from the thing

its
said about.
they are said about can be said to "be" in
own
right (kath' hauto);
But the thing and
such things seem to "be" more truly, because as subjects of discourse (to hypokeimenon) they provide something definite (horismenon) and determinate. "Hence that which 'is' primarily, not in a qualified sense but just
as 'being' (on haplos), will be ousia."
"First" or "primary"
is
said in
many ways. But
ousia
is first
in all these
and in time. Hence for Aristotle the inquiry into the criteria of what it means to "be" anything is transformed into the inquiry into the character possessed by ousia. "Indeed, the question which was raised long ago, is still raised today and always will be asked, and which always baffles us. What is being? (ti to on?) is the same
senses, in definition, in knowledge,
as the question,
What
is
ousia?
(tis
he ousia?)."
ti
Ousia
universal
is
said in four
(to
main
the
senses, as the essence (to
en einai), the
katholou),
.
hypokeimenon) The subject, other three, Uke all predicates, are

else.
and the subject (to or the subject matter, is that of which the
genus
(to
genos),
said, while
it is
not
itself
said of anything
Hence
the primary subject matter or subject seems to be ousia in the
truest sense.
Ousia Aristotle thus defines in his First Philosophy, as in the

is
Categories, as the subject of discourse.
What, then,
is this
involved in ousia as a subject of discourse?
I ask,
it
"What
"This
it
thing, this ousia?" (ti esti?).

is
The answer
that
is
will
be "what
is":
thing
is,"
1
a table." But just what

ti esti,
is it
a "table"?
What
is
the "what
the
of this thing?
Is "what this thing is" to be identified with "what it is made out of"? enough to say, "It is wood"? Is the thing to be identified with its "material," its hyle? Is it just "wood"? No; for this thing is clearly more than just "wood" it is "this here wood," to indicate which we can only point. The material of this thing alone has no individual character, and is ultimately unstatable in words, and thus unintelligible. This thing is, to be sure, "this here wood," a tode ti, a "this here thing." But to say that alone is not an adequate statement of what it is. Well, then, 2) Is "what the thing is" its "form," its eidos? Is it a "classroom table," somethmg to put books and papers and watches upon? Is it a "such," a toionde? No; "form" or "character" alone does not tell us what this individual thing really is. "Classroom table" is what we can truly say this thing is. But "this thing" is not merely "classroom table," it is not
Is it
merely "such," toionde; that alone is not an adequate statement of "what it is." "Classroom table" in general does not exist, "such's" do not exist. We can say and think "such's"; but no "such's" exist as individual, concrete things
we can
point to and talk about.
You
cannot point
to,
look
at,
observe, experiment with, "such's," with "classroom table."
What
exists is
always "this here thing," "this here classroom table."
86
In the discussion in
ARISTOTLE
Book Zeta
so far paraphrased and illustrated,
On the one hand, he wants to take account of the insights of the Platonists. What logos grasps and
Aristotle has clearly a twofold interest.
states really "is"
it
is
ousia.
its
We
have a genuine knowledge of the real
structure of things, and
formulation in scientific statements, like the definition of the essence (to ti en einai) of a thing, in which, as set forth
in the Posterior Analytics, science culminates, does give us
an
intellectual
grasp of that structure. Things are what they can be said to be. On the other hand, the formulations of discourse are not themselves "what is," they are not ousiai, they are not "separate" and "individual."
The
Platonists fell into confusion in hypostatizing forms, objects of mathe-
and such other formulations of logos. They are not "things," ousiai. Neither the universal nor the genus is an ousia. They are not concrete, particular things: they are predicates common to many
matics, universals, genera,
The same holds of the Platonic forms. But the "essence" of a thing, what it is to be that thing (to ti en einai), since it is not common to anything else, and since in a sense it is identical
things.
with the thing
itself,
can be said to be the ousia of that thing. The ousia

is
of an individual thing
it is
peculiar to
it
and belongs
it is
to nothing else.
And
ti
just this character
we mean by "what
what
that thing
is.
to
be that thing" (to
en
is
einai),
and
call its "essence." It is this
"essence"
we
express in a formula
thing
(logos)
that
its
when we
it is
state
The "essence" of each

and
is
which
said to be in itself (kath' hauto)
in
accordance with
own
nature (kata physin). Hence the essence
one and the same
thing with the particular thing,

it is when we know its essence that we have knowledge of a thing. ... It follows that each individual thing is one and the same with its essence, and not
for
merely incidentally, because to have knowledge of the individual is to have knowledge of its essence; so that it is evident that both must be identical.
"Essence"
ousia,
is
thus defined as what
is
knowable and
is
statable about
is
an
what the
definition of a kind will formulate. It
not the formula
(logos) or the definition (horismos) that

thing, or
lates,
identical with the concrete

it is
can properly be said to be an ousia,
the intelligible structure or
make-up
of the thing,
what the logos formuwhat we know
and
state
when we know
is
the thmg.
Aristotle
wrestling with the attempt to state the

tries to
same problem
as
maintain that the "idea" of the circle is one and the same thing with the circle itself. In an obvious sense, the geometrical
circle is different
Spinoza,
who
from
its
algebraic formula or "idea," a^
+
it
b^ =:
r^.
Yet
in another sense they are

it
two alternative expressions of the same

is
thing. In Spinoza's language,

circle
possible for
him
to say,
is
the
same
conceived under two different "attributes." Aristode puts it: in one sense the essence is identical with the individual, in another it is obviously not.
For
Aristotle, the difficulty arises because so far
he has been dealing
The Order of Being

with the questions logikos, confining himself within the circle of
guistic analysis.
87
lin-
He
has raised the question,
What
it is
is
the relation between
what language formulates, and that of which What is the relation of the "such's" we can
tions,
the formulable aspect?
truly say things are, to the
things themselves, that actually exist to point to
and look
at?
Such ques-
of the relation between discourse and
its
subject matter, cannot
be answered in terms of the distinctions we can draw within discourse alone. We must have some other way of getting at the subject matter besides talking about it: we must look at it and do things with it. We are
logikos,
itself, beyond talking, beyond the talking of the who, to judge by the long and very painstaking analysis of his problems and mistakes in Book Zeta, must have been talking for quite a while and to no very good purpose before Aristotle came upon the scene
taken beyond discourse
to set
him
straight.
Aristotle takes us to the functional setting of discourse, to the processes
by which things are produced and brought into existence, whether they be processes occurring "by nature," or, as in the case of our table, occurring "by art." At this point we are forced to ask, "Just how did this here thing come into existence?" Well, a cabinetmaker took some oak
planks, and
made them
into a "classroom table."
He
took a
this
here
stuff, a tode ti, "some oak wood," and made it into a "such," a toionde: he made "some oak wood" into a "classroom table."
3) So this thing, this ousia,

of "this here wood," which
toionde,
its is
is
really a "this here such." It is a tode

is
toionde, "this here classroom table." It

its
a union of a "this here stuff,"
material (hyle), and of a "such," a
"form" or eidos.
It is
a "from both" (to ek touton), a "com-
posite" (synolon).
An
is is
individual ousia, the particular thing

itself in its "intelligible
we have been
talking about,
the object
not adequately stated as just
make-up" or "essence." This ousia "some wood," nor yet as merely "someIt is "this
thing to put books, papers,
and watches upon."
here
wooden
classroom table."
is of course what it can be correctly defined to can be truly said to be, a "wooden classroom table." But it be, is really more than that. It is "this here wooden classroom table." And to be precise, we cannot omit the "this-ness." That is, existing things, ousiai, are clearly more than their definitions alone, they are more than what they can be truly said to be. Such concrete things can never be exhausted by what we can say about them. We can never exhaustively "define" any particular and individual ousia, we can never say everything that is true
This particular thing
what
it
about
it.
What
is
other way. Things "are" what they can be said to be,

definition,
is
involved in ousia expressed in discourse, can be stated in anif the saying, the
the outcome of successful inquiry.
are
is
clearly not the
same
as saying
what they
are.
But being what they Discourse can state
88
what things
cisely
are.
ARISTOTLE
But things are not discourse. Things can be said

is
to
possess a "discursive" or "logical" character or aspect, and this
pre-
and express, when we state what they are. This which Dewey preferred to call their "logiscible" character, is precisely what we state and express when we say what things are, when we state their "ousia," their structure or "essence. "1 But things are not their character, their "essence," alone. They are not exhausted by discourse. Discourse can truly state that "essence" or character: it can state what is "essential" to being that specific kind of thing. But discourse cannot say or state the concrete thing itself. This can be put into Latin: "We can state in words the " 'essence' of things, but we cannot state in words their 'existence.' These concrete things, that cannot be stated about anything else, that are always subjects of discourse, always what we are talking about, but never predicates, never what we are saying, are things or existences, ousiai, in "the first and best sense." They are primary things, primary
what we
state
logical or discursive character of things,
ousiai,
Their character, what they can be said to be,

It is
"primary substances," the ultimate subject matter of discourse. is their ousia put into words.
call the ousia,
what we
the "substance," or the "essence" oj that

is
kind of thing. Such an "ousia expressed"

subject.
ousia as a predicate, not a

thus and so,"
Thus when we say 1) "This

say 2) "This
is
table
is
we
are using
"table" to designate a subject, a primary ousia,
a primary substance.
When we
tinction
a table,"
we
are using "table" to designate a
predicate, a secondary ousia, a secondary substance or essence. This dis-
between "primary" and "secondary ousiai" or "substances" ocit
curs only in the Categories, but
clarifies
Aristotle's
pretty consistent
usage of the same term to denote two quite different notions. Ousia as subject matter, "primary ousia," exhibits something that cannot be stated
by pointing: ho tis anthropos, "this here man." its "matter": what makes it a tode ti. Aristotle's conclusion may be stated: Whatever is can be expressed in words and discourse. There is nothing that cannot be talked about, nothing wholly inaccessible to discourse, nothing "ineffable." But discourse is
in words, but only denoted
This
is its
material or hyle,
not
its
own
subject matter
Discourse
what it discursive or logical character, and that is about its subject character, that intelligible structure, is just what discourse can express and state. Whatever is can be known. There is nothing that is unknowable. But knowledge is of and about something that is not itself knowledge, it is of ta onta, the things that are; though what ta onta are is precisely what nous grasps in its knowing: their ti esti, their "what," their "form" or "essence," their knowable aspect.
is
"about" something that
matterhas a
unless the talking

is
is
about language
itself.
not
itself
discourse; though
^ It must be realized that no single term corresponding to the Latin essentia, "essence," occurs in Aristotle. Aristotle uses at least half a dozen terms which can all be translated, in some contexts, as "essence." What complicates the matter is that they can all be translated in certain other contexts as definitely not meaning "essence." Ousia is the most troublesome and misleading of these ambiguous terms.
The Order of Being

Aristotle's
89
worked out
and so painfully distinctions so painstakingly Books Zeta and Eta were necessary to clarify the confusions about talking and its relations to what is talked about into which several generations of Greek garrulity seem to have gotten the Greeks. They are still pertinent today: they could, for example, have saved F, H. Bradley sevcareful
in
eral
decades of a
futile
attempt to get
literally
everything into words.
Ousia as the Outcome of a Process
What
is
involved in ousia as something that changes, that
is
the outcome
of a process?
involved in the classroom table that was once part of a tree, and that will end in a bonfire? Change in the most general sense, becoming, metabole, and process, "movement" or kinesis, is a fundamental
What
is
fact of
would
try to
our experienced world, the world "we see." "Only a vegetable deny it," Aristotle remarks rather scornfully of the Eleatics.
fact to
How
is this
be expressed, understood, and made

else.
intelligible?
Things,
ousiai, are
always changing into something
Materials are always taking

such's."
on new forms. "This such's" are always becoming "other
Of
things
taken as undergoing such change, as subjects of processes, kineseis, we can ask four different kinds of questions, and get four different kinds of answer,
four kinds of
tion;
it
aitia.
meant
in
Aition means literally the answer or response to a quesGreek what could be held "answerable" or "responsible"
aitia are the
in a
law court. Aristotle's four
four different factors "responsi-
ble" for a process, the four "necessary conditions" of any process, four
dioti's or
"reasons why," four "wherefores." Since Cicero translated them
into Latin as the four causae, they have been
known
in the
Western
tradi-
tion as the "four causes."

1)
What
is it?
//
esti?
to
ti
esti
2) Out of what
3)
is it made? By what agent?
ex hou?
to ex to
to
hou
The What The From What The By What The For What
Formal Cause
Material Cause
Efficient
4) For what end?
hypo tinos? hou heneka?
hypo tinos hou heneka
Cause
Final Cause
Thus we can ask, What is it? It is a flag. Out of what is it made? Bunting. By what was it made? The firm of Rosenkranz and Guildenstern. For what was it made? To serve as a patriotic symbol.
These are four kinds of reason, four kinds of answer, four necessary connecessary for understanding the process: we need to know all four if we are to find it intelUgible. Only one of the four, the By What, the agent, the efficient cause, is a "cause" in the popular sense today if "cause" have
ditions
any clear meaning in our ordinary language. The unfortunate neglect of the other three has been due to the dominance of mechanical thinking since the day of Newton, compUcated by the popular heritage of Hume and John Stuart Mill. It is worth noting, incidentally, that the empiricist notion of
causation as constant succession, of "cause" as the invariable antecedent
of
its effect, is
wholly lacking in Aristotle. Cause and effect are always for
him simultaneous, hama.
90
ARISTOTLE
All four are factors discoverable in any process. Every process or kinesis something being made out of some material by some agent or mechanism for some end. This is obvious in processes that take place "by art," apo
is
technes, in human production. But in natural production, processes that take place "by nature," physei, or "in accordance with nature," kata physin,
the situation seems different.
And
such processes are significantly
different.
them there is no intelligent maker or craftsman. Secondly, in them there is no "purpose," no consciously foreseen end. Aristotle's "For What," to hou heneka, is "end," telos, or "final cause"; it is incorrect and very misleading to translate it as "purpose," which in English means "foresight" and "intention." For Aristotle, human purposes do display foresight and intention, and they do form one subdivision of "final causes" or "ends." But whatever may have happened later in the religious
In the
first
place, in
adaptations of Aristotelian thought in the Middle Ages,
when
the operations
of nature were identified with the Divine Providence, Aristotle himself finds
such "purposes" and "intentions" only in the processes by art, in human production. For Aristotle, there are no purposes in the world outside human actions and makings. Final causes, tele, are for him a much broader class
than the subclass of "purposes." That broad class includes not only
purposes, but also
place by nature.
all
human
natural ends and outcomes in the processes that take
For although for Aristotle nature, apart from human

discoverable purposes,
it
arts, exhibits
no
Nature is the scene of productive enterprises, that are not to be understood as mere mixings and uimiixings of elements. Events do not merely "happen," they have
does exhibit natural ends or
tele.
consequences, they achieve results, they exhibit a pattern of reaching out-
comes
part."
that
is
repeated over and over again, that

falls,
is
"always or for the most

is
Clouds form, rain
seeds sprout, plants grow, with a structure of

in-
natural teleology, a fixed order of stages of development. Nature
disputably teleological;
its
processes are
full
of ends,
tele,
that are achieved,

life
of conclusions that are reached over and over. Only in
human
are these
ends and conclusions consciously intended, only in men are purposes found. For Aristotle, even God has no purpose, only man!
LUCRETIUS
The Universe Not Designed for
Man
Here
is
Lucretius again, in a passage which sets the tone for the scientist's
apparent denial of cosmic purpose. The universe is not designed for man, and Lucretius puts the gods so far away they hardly exist. Yet, to repeat, there is order in the universe, a not uninteresting order,
and man's
not out of place in it. I feel sure the net effect of Lucretius over the ages has been tonic rather than depressive.
is
mind
And
In his
walking
now
do follow through His reasonings, and with pronouncements teach The covenant whereby all things are framed, How under that covenant they must abide
foot-prints, I
own
Nor
ever prevail to abrogate the aeons'
Inexorable decrees,
how
(as we've found),

all else.
In class of mortal objects, o'er
The mind
exists of earth-born
frame create
And
impotent unscathed to abide
Across the mighty aeons, and

In sleep those idol-apparitions
how come
That so befool intelligence when we Do seem to view a man whom life has left. Thus far we've gone; the order of my plan Hath brought me now unto the point where I Must make report how, too, the universe Consists of mortal body, born in time, And in what modes that congregated stuff Established itself as earth and sky. Ocean, and stars, and sun, and ball of moon; And then what living creatures rose from out
From Lucretius, Of the Nature (New York: E. P. Button & Co.,
of Things. Translated by William EUery Leonard 1957), pp. 189-194.
91
92
LUCRETIUS
The old telluric places, and what ones Were never bom at all; and in what mode The human race began to name its things And use the varied speech from man to man; And in what modes hath bosomed in their breasts That awe of gods, which haUoweth in all lands
Fanes,
altars, groves, lakes, idols of the gods.
Also
I shall
untangle by what power

guides the sun's courses,
The steersman nature
And
They
the meanderings of the
moon,
lest
we,
Percase, should fancy that of
own
free will
round, motions for increase of crops And living creatures, or lest we should think They roll along by any plan of gods. For even those men who have learned full well That godheads lead a long life free of care,
circle their perennial courses
Timing
their
meanwhile they wonder by what plan Things can go on (and chiefly yon high things
If yet
Observed o'erhead on the ethereal coasts), Again are hurried back unto the fears Of old reUgion and adopt again Harsh masters, deemed almighty, wretched men, Unwitting what can be and what cannot. And by what law to each its scope prescribed, Its boundary stone that clings so deep in Time.
But for the rest, lest we delay thee here Longer by empty promises behold.
Before
all else,
the seas, the lands, the sky:
Memmius,
their threefold nature, lo.
Their bodies three, three aspects so unHke, Three frames so vast, a single day shall give
Unto annihilation! Then shall crash That massive form and fabric of the world Sustained so many aeons! Nor do I Fail to perceive how strange and marvellous This fact must strike the intellect of man, Annihilation of the sky and earth That is to be, and with what toil of words 'Tis mine to prove the same; as happens oft
When
once ye offer to man's listening ears Something before unheard of, but may not
Subject
it
it
to the view of eyes for into
Nor put
hand
him
the sight and touch,
The Universe Not Designed
for
Man
93
Whereby the opened highways of belief Lead most directly into human breast
And
I will
regions of intelligence. But yet
speak out. The fact
itself,
perchance,
Will force belief in these
my
words, and thou
Mayst see, in little time, tremendously With risen commotions of the lands all things Quaking to pieces which afar from us May she, the steersman Nature, guide: and may
Reason, O rather than the fact itself, Persuade us that all things can be o'erthrown And sink with awful-sounding breakage down!
But ere on
this I
take a step to utter
Oracles holier and soundlier based
Than
ever the Pythian pronounced for
men
From
I will
out the tripod and the Delphian laurel, unfold for thee with learned words
a consolation, lest perchance.
Many
Still
bridled by reHgion, thou suppose
Lands, sun, and sky, sea, constellations, moon, Must dure forever, as of frame divine
And
so conclude that
it is
just that those,

all
(After the manner of the Giants), should
Pay the huge penalties for monstrous crime. Who by their reasonings do overshake The ramparts of the universe and wish There to put out the splendid sun of heaven,
Branding with mortal talk immortal things Though these same things are even so far removed From any touch of deity and seem So far unworthy of numbering with the gods, That well they may be thought to furnish rather A goodly instance of the sort of things That lack the living motion, living sense. For sure 'tis quite beside the mark to think That judgment and the nature of the mind In any kind of body can exist
Just as in ether can't exist a tree,
Nor clouds in the salt sea, nor in the fields Can fishes live, nor blood in timber be, Nor sap in boulders; fixed and arranged Where everything may grow and have its place Thus nature of mind cannot arise alone
Without the body, nor have
its
being far
94
LUCRETIUS
From Much
thews and blood. Yet if 'twere possible? rather might this very power of mind Be in the head, the shoulders, or the heels.
And, born in any part soever, yet In the same man, in the same vessel abide But since within this body even of ours Stands fixed and appears arranged sure Where soul and mind can each exist and grow, Deny we must the more that they can dure Outside the body and the breathing form
In rotting clods of earth, in the sun's
fire,
In water, or in ether's skiey coasts. Therefore these things no whit are furnished
With sense divine, since never can they be With life -force quickened.
Likewise, thou canst ne'er
BeUeve the sacred seats of gods are here In any regions of this mundane world;
Indeed, the nature of the gods, so subtle,
So
Is
far
removed from these our
senses, scarce
seen even by intelligence of mind.

since they've ever eluded touch
And
and thrust
Of human hands, they cannot reach to grasp Aught tangible to us. For what may not
be touched in turn can never touch. Wherefore, besides, also their seats must be Unlike these seats of ours, even subtle too,
Itself
As meet
for subtle essence
as
I'll
prove
Hereafter unto thee with large discourse. Further, to say that for the sake of men
They
willed to prepare this world's magnificence,
And that 'tis therefore duty and behoof To praise the work of gods as worthy praise, And that 'tis sacrilege for men to shake
Ever by any force from out their seats What hath been stablished by the Forethought old To everlasting for races of mankind. And that 'tis sacrilege to assault by words And overtopple all from base to beam, Memmius, such notions to concoct and pile,
Is verily
to dote.
Our
gratefulness,
what emoluments could it confer Upon Immortals and upon the Blessed That they should take a step to manage aught For sake of us? Or what new factor could,
The Universe Not Designed
for
Man
95
After so long a time, inveigle them
The
hitherto reposeful
their
to desire
To change
former
life?
For rather he
Whom O
old things chafe seems likely to rejoice
At new; but one that in fore-passed time Hath chanced upon no iU, through goodly years,
what could ever enkindle
evil for us, if
in such
an one
Passion for strange experiment?
Or what
The
we had
ne'er been born?
ST.
THOMAS AQUINAS
The End of Life
St.
Thomas Aquinas
and
(c.
1225-1274),
Italian born,
was
the Doctor Angeli-
embodied in his (or neo-Thomism) is very much alive today and is the philosophical system most favored among Roman Catholics. The Summa is by no means difficult reading in the same way Aristotle is, but it is long, detailed, leisurely, and cast in forms strange to Americans today. I have preferred to choose a piece of Thomas's mind as faithfully put into a contemporary mold by Father Walter Farrell. Here is Thomas on the end of life end in both the literal and the teleological sense the Christian eschatology, heaven, and the
cus,
the leading scholastic philosopher. His system,
Summa
Theologica and
many
other writings, as
Thomism
afterlife.
WHATEVER HAPPENS TO THE WORLD, ALL MEN WILL

the dead,
RISE AGAIN
FROM
sound of a trumpet; not that ears long dead, turned to dust, and blown about the face of the earth will be tuned to that note. Lazarus, dead for four days, was hardly on tiptoe waiting for the voice of Christ which, nevertheless, he promptly answered. Rather, the sound of the trumpet will be an instrument
old.
will rise at the
good and bad, young and
They
of divinity, as the voice of the priest in the consecration of the

divine instrument; surely, the bread
is
Mass
is
not Ustening for those sacred words,
impatient to be changed into the body of Christ.

of this last resurrection was the
first
resurrection, that of Christ
Sunday;
this
its
cause must, of course, be divinity.

Christ,
is
The model and exemplar on Easter The humanity of Christ, in
and the other divine works of Godhead.
always the instrument of the
Thomas has
a pleasant statement of the part the angels will play in the

is
resurrection of men. It
not to be a necessary part but rather a share

as a
thoughtfully provided
by God much
mother allows a child to pay

The Way of Life (New York: Sheed
From Walter Farrell, A Companion to the Summa, Vol. IV (Corresponding to the Summa Theologica IIIA and Supplement).
& Ward, 1942), pp. 429-434. 96
The End
of Life
97
package along a busy
street.
street-car fare or to carry a
The
angels have
been working with

helping them.
It is
men from
only
the beginning; guiding, guarding, teaching,
fitting that
they should have a part in this last

to picture
climax of
human
life.
Thomas
it
says that they will "prepare the material for
the resurrection"; though
is
no doubt an exaggeration
them
as scurrying to the ends of the earth, gathering the dust of men's bodies,
in piles, and waiting for the divine word. up with a phrase as to the time of the resurrection, a phrase notable in the beauty of its simplicity. He says it will come "when the work of the angels is finished." This is their last work for men; when that is over, both they and their wards can rest, rest forever. Thomas does not try to determine the time of the resurrection; Christ Himself had put an end to that speculation when He said that this was known only to the Father. Granted the secrecy of the time, as secret as the end of the world with which it will coincide, Thomas says that it wiU probably take place suddenly since divine power works in an instant when the work of the
assorting
it,
arranging
it
Thomas
follows this
angels
It
is
finished.
It will
wUl be at dawn, conforming to the model of Christ's own resurrection. be as though the turn of the wheel of time had just been completed. At creation, which was time's beginning, the day started off at its beginning;
not at the siesta hour, not in time for a late dinner, but at
dawn with
the
sun in the east and the
moon
in the west; so
it
will
be
at the resurrection.
At
that last
moment, the world
itself
was
just starting; in
will look as it did long, long ago, when time a real sense, time will start again, for men will
begin to live again, men, understand, not souls, not a
new
race of
men
is
but the same men, body and soul, as
first
inhabited the earth.
The
resurrection
to
it if
is
necessary
if
men
are to live eternally. Yet, there
no point
each soul has a body different from its original one; for then not the same, but a different person lives. It is to its same, identical body that the soul has its inclination; this is the body that has merited its
share in reward and punishment; this is the body that should be judged. There would be a thoroughly justified grumpiness, for example, in a wrestler who received the body of a chorus girl because of a mixed-up resurrection. It is not enough to retain the same sex and general contours of the original body; the risen body must not only be similar, it must be numerically identical or we have not the same person; it has not been a resurrection
but a constitution of a new creature.

This point, reasonable as
to scoffers.
it is,
has been the source of
much amusement
in
Perhaps that
is
why God,
in a kind of divine contempt, while
assuring us of the fact gave us no information of the

will
manner
which
it
be accomplished. Objections have been offered which were meant to be devastating but actually turn out to be amusing. There is the famous case of the cannibal. The difficulty is offered not on the grounds of the bones he picks after all this was not a bone-eating cannibal but from the side of the cannibal himself. When he comes to die, there will be nothing
98
in his
ST.
THOMAS AQUINAS
bodies;
body that was not taken from the meat and marrow of other human someone will have to go unresurrected, probably the cannibal.
Really to
make
the point
it is
aiming
at, this
objection should maintain that
the cannibal started his meat diet in the
first
days of his mother's preg-
nancy; a thing of extreme

willing to accept this,
even for a cannibal. If the objector is he should have no difficulty accepting anything, even
difficulty,
The whole thing arises from a confusion of a man's body with the whole mass of material that a man possesses in the course of his whole life; as a matter of fact, some of us can do without a great deal of that right now. What is demanded for the resurrection is that some of the identical material go into the risen body, actual defect of material being made up by divine power. After all, if a child dies at seven and is to rise at thirty, or a man born with one ear is to be perfect in the resurrection, some material must be added; but the bodies will still be identical. The same objection is given scientffic form when it is said that the resurrection is an impossibility because, obviously, human bodies return to their chemical constituents after death, to enter into the make-up of vegetables,
the resurrection of worms.
flowers,
animals, and ultimately, no doubt, bodies of other men.
The
the
answer, however, does not change.
The
resurrection does not pose
God
problem of spreading five pounds of flesh over a big frame; after all, the original material had its source in a divine conmiand. God does not need a whole mass of the material; but not even God can make the same body from totally different materials. Men, then, will be the same men, but much improved. They will be integrally perfect, that is, they will have all that pertains to the integrity of the human body. Specifically, Thomas mentions fingernails and hair, not primarily for the comfort of the bald, but because there might be some shght doubt about these superfluities. If, through accident, disease, or congenital defect, anything is missing at death, it will be supphed in the resurrection.
which their development and before they have started to deteriorate. He thought thirty would be about right. And all men and women will rise at the same age, so that a mother can really be young with her daughter, and with her grandmother for that matter; perhaps it is only then that we shall get to know our ancestors. Of course there will be mothers and grandmothers there, for not all arise in the same sex; they must, you see, be the same persons. Clearly a strangely bearded grandmother would not be the same grandmother we had known on this earth;
thinks that
will rise at the age at
Thomas
men
and perfection reached
their height
moreover, the diversity of sex
is
a part of the perfection of the species.
While all will be the same age, they will not all be the same size. There is no particularly perfect size for a human being. Some will be big, some small, some tall and some short; but all with the defects of nature corrected, that is no one will be too big, too small, too tall, or too short. In a word, there will be a pleasant variety, as great a variety, in fact, as there is
The End of
Life
99
now; for there will be exactly the same individuals with the rough spots smoothed off. Yet, with all this physical perfection, there will be none of the operations of animal life; there is simply no point to this activity. Man
remains a rational animal, but with his animality totally spiritualized; even
the
damned
spirit.
will forego all
animal
life.
In the
just,
the bodies will be examples of matter completely dominated
by
to
By
nature,
man
is
a creature of reason in
whom
spirit
was made
command;
in glory, the submission of
body
to soul far surpasses nature.
Four instances of this domination of the soul over the body have been singled out by theologians and called the gifts of the glorified body. The body is said to be "impassable," that is, not subject to injury in any sense,
The
first
even in that deUcate sense of suffering in the very exercise of sense faculties. soul will dominate the body both as its form and as its mover: in the
case, the result
is the gift of "subdety" which subjects the organic body to the soul; in the second, it is the gift of "agiUty" which enables the body to move with something of the speed of thought. Finally, just as the body will hinder no operation of the soul, so neither
character of the
will
it
cloud or veil the soul's beauty; this
is
the gift of "clarity" which al-
lows the splendor of the soul to shine through the body, thus making the
spiritual
beauty as visible as physical beauty

of the
is
to us in this
life.
The bodies
defects
damned
will
have none of
this supernatural perfection.
all that nature demands, they will be free from all and deformities; but they will have no more than that except for the immortafity which keeps them incorruptible, not immune to injury, but rather guaranteed an eternity of punishment. When all men have risen
Since they will have
eternity, they are prepared for that last great mankind, the drama that strikes such terror to our hearts, principally because we look at it sentimentally rather than rationally;
equipped with bodies for
drama
in the history of
the last judgment.
To put
it
the fundamental reason for general judgment in simple language,

to say that
it
would be enough
takes
grounds for that comforting

his
activity
we
call
away from men grumbling; no
for all time any
sinner wiU
make
way back
to hell
mumbling "we were robbed." In more

is
dignified
language, the general judgment
the ultimate vindication of the justice
and mercy of God. Man,

he
is
after
all, is
more than an
individual,
he
is
a citizen;
member
of the great family of humanity.
He
is
judged, justly and
finally,
as an individual immediately after death and there will be no change in that sentence; as a citizen, he stands before the whole world on the day of general judgment that all might know the wonder of God's ways and the complete justice of the original sentence. There wiU be no grounds for such a gossip's wonder and speculation as "What is that one doing in hell, she seemed such a grand person?" or "Look at Johnny Smith in heaven! Wait a few centuries till they find him out."
The
original sentence
is final.
The
just, then,
is
a revelation of their sins to the world
can suffer no unhappiness; an emphasis on their courage and
100
penance
in getting rid of sin, not a cause for terror
ST.
THOMAS AQUINAS
and shame but of wonMagdalen feels no shame at the public recitation of her crimes in the Divine Office; nor do those reciting the tale revel in an unholy exultation at uncovering the weakness of another. Rather, like Mary herself, they find these things an occasion for wondering at the goodness of God. It is quite another thing for the damned. All excuses are made imposdering gratitude at the mercy of God.
Today
in heaven,
sible;
they are shown plainly in their perversity, their pettiness,
their
stupidity, with
this
no reason for anything but shame
in their sins. It will be,
judgment, a public vindication of Christ the Judge and of those
who
took
Him
at
His word, taking up their crosses to follow Him. Such comis
plete justice
impossible in this world, or even in the particular judgment;

soul, is finally
here, the
whole person, body as well as
rewarded or punished.
MARQUIS
de
CONDORCET
The Doctrine of Natural Salvation
Antoine Nicolas de Caritat, Marquis de Condorcet (1743-1794) was a French philosophe, deputy to the National Convention during the great French Revolution. As a Girondin to the moderate Right of the triumphant Mountain at the height of the Terror, he was proscribed and went into hiding, where he wrote without benefit of research library his sweeping
survey of history, the Esquisse d'un tableau des progres de I'esprit humain literally. Sketch for a picture of the progresses of the human mind.
There
dorcet
last
is
lightenment, familiar to us
it is
hardly a better example of the characteristic teleology of the Enall as the doctrine of Progress. Indeed in Con-
a teleology of
human
perfectibility that turns in the
half-dozen paragraphs below
into
Christian eschatology of immortal

least hints that the
life life
span of
is
human
on
end in the an Enlightened surrogate for the and final judgment. Condorcet at in this body on this earth has no
necessary limits. This

ability to face the
the doctrine of "natural salvation"

earth. If
physical im-
mortality of the individual here
you would
like to test
your
evidence in the matter of "multanimity," try reading right after this bit of Condorcet the passage from Sir Charles Galton Darwin beginning on page 491.
IF
MAN CAN, WITH ALMOST COMPLETE ASSURANCE, PREDICT PHENOMENA when he knows their laws, and if, even when he does not, he can still, with
great expectation of success, forecast the future
on the basis of
his experi-
ence of the past, why, then, should

to sketch, with
it
be regarded as a fantastic undertaking
basis of his history?
some pretence to truth, the future destiny of man on the The sole foundation for belief in the natural sciences idea, that the general laws directing the phenomena of the universe, is this known or unknown, are necessary and constant. Why should this principle
be any
of
less true for the
development of the
intellectual
and moral
faculties
man
than for the other operations of nature? Since beUefs founded on

ed.,
From Crane Brinton, 1956), pp. 220-239.
Age
of Reason Reader
(New York: The Viking
Press,
101
102
past experience of like conditions provide the only rule of conduct for the
wisest of men,
jectures
why should
the philosopher be forbidden to base his con-
on these same foundations, so long as he does not attribute to them a certainty superior to that warranted by the number, the constancy, and
the accuracy of his observations?
Our hopes for the future condition of the human race can be subsumed under three important heads: the abolition of inequality between nations, the progress of equality within each nation, and the true perfection of mankind. Will all nations one day attain that state of civilization which the most enlightened, the freest and the least burdened by prejudices, such as the French and the Anglo-Americans, have attained already? Will the vast gulf that separates these peoples from the slavery of nations under the rule of monarchs, from the barbarism of African tribes, from the ignorance of savages, little by little disappear? Is there on the face of the earth a nation whose inhabitants have been debarred by nature herself from the enjoyment of freedom and the exercise
of reason?
Are those
differences
which have hitherto been seen

it is
in every civilized
country in respect of the enlightenment, the resources, and the wealth en-
joyed by the different classes into which
divided,
is
that inequality be-
tween
men which was
aggravated or perhaps produced by the earliest

itself,
progress of society, are these part of civilization
or are they due to
the present imperfections of the social art? Will they necessarily decrease
and ultimately make way for a real equality, the final end of the social art, which even the effects of the natural differences between men will be mitigated and the only kind of inequality to persist will be that which is in the interests of all and which favours the progress of civilization, of education, and of industry, without entailing either poverty, humiliation, or dependence? In other words, will men approach a condition in which everyone will have the knowledge necessary to conduct himself in the ordinary affairs of life, according to the light of his own reason, to preserve his mind free from prejudice, to understand his rights and to exercise them in accordance with his conscience and his creed; in which everyone will become able, through the development of his faculties, to find the means of providing for his needs; and in which at last misery and folly will be the exception, and no longer the habitual lot of a section of society? Is the human race to better itself, either by discoveries in the sciences and the arts, and so in the means to individual welfare and general prosperity; or by progress in the principles of conduct or practical morahty; or by a true perfection of the intellectual, moral, or physical faculties of man, an improvement which may result from a perfection either of the instruments used to heighten the intensity of these faculties and to direct their
in
use or of the natural constitution of
In answering these three questions
man? we shall
find in the experience of the
past, in the observation of the progress that the sciences
and
civilization
The Doctrine
of Natural Salvation
103
have already made, in the analysis of the progress of the human mind and of the development of its faculties, the strongest reasons for believing that nature has set no limit to the realization of our hopes. If we glance at the state of the world today we see first of all that in
Europe the
principles of the
enUghtened men.
fessed, for priests
We
see
French Constitution are already those of all them too widely propagated, too seriously proto prevent their gradual penetration
and despots
even
into the hovels of their slaves; there they will soon
awaken in these slaves the remnants of their common sense and inspire them with that smouldering indignation which not even constant humiUation and fear can smother
in the soul of the oppressed.
we can see in each what special and what attitudes of mind favour it. We can distinguish the nations where we may expect it to be introduced gently by the perhaps belated wisdom of their governments, and those nations where its violence intensified by their resistance must involve all alike in a
As we move from
impede
nation to nation,
obstacles
this revolution
swift
and
terrible convulsion.
Can we doubt
European nations
that either
will
common
sense or the senseless discords of
add
to the effects of the slow but inexorable progress
of their colonies, and will soon bring about the independence of the
New
World? And then
will
not the
spreading rapidly over that
European population in these colonies, enormous land, either civUize or peacefully re-
move
the savage nations who still inhabit vast tracts of its land? Survey the history of our settlements and commercial undertakings in Africa or in Asia, and you will see how our trade monopolies, our treachery,
our murderous contempt for

priests,
men
of another colour or creed, the insolence
of our usurpations, the intrigues or the exaggerated proselytic zeal of our
have destroyed the respect and goodwill that the superiority of our knowledge and the benefits of our commerce at first won for us in the eyes of the inhabitants. But doubtless the moment approaches when, no longer
presenting ourselves as always either tyrants or corrupters,
for
we shall become them the beneficent instruments of their freedom. The sugar industry, establishing itself throughout the immense continent of Africa, will destroy the shameful exploitation which has corrupted and depopulated that continent for the last two centuries.
Already in Great Britain, friends of humanity have set us an example; if the Machiavellian government of that country has been restrained by public opinion from offering any opposition, what may we not expect of this same spirit, once the reform of a servile and venal constitution has led to a government worthy of a humane and generous nation? Will not France
and
hasten to imitate such undertakings dictated by philanthropy and the true

self-interest of
French
Europe alike? Trading stations have been set up in the Guiana and in some English possessions, and soon we shall see the downfall of the monopoly that the Dutch have sustained with so much treachery, persecution and crime. The nations of Europe wUl
islands, in
104
finally learn that
monopolistic companies are nothing more than a tax
to provide their
imposed upon them in order

strument of tyranny.
governments with a new in-
So the peoples of Europe, confining themselves to free trade, understandown rights too well to show contempt for those of other peoples, will respect this independence, which until now they have so insolently violated. Their settlements, no longer fiUed with government hirelings hastening, under the cloak of place or privilege, to amass treasure by brigandry and deceit, so as to be able to return to Europe and purchase titles and
ing their
honour, wiU
now be peopled
them
with
men
of industrious habit, seeking in
these propitious climates the wealth that eluded

of freedom will retain
there, ambition will
them at home. The love no longer recall them, and
what have been no
better than the counting houses of brigands will be-
and Asia the and the practice of liberty, knowledge and reason, that they have brought from Europe. We shall see the monks who brought only shameful superstition to these peoples, and aroused their antagonism by the threat of yet another tyranny, replaced by men occupied in propagating amongst them the truths that will promote their happiness and in teaching them about their interests and their rights. Zeal for the truth is also one of the passions, and it will turn its efforts to distant lands, once there are no longer at home any crass prejudices to combat, any shameful errors to
come
colonies of citizens propagating throughout Africa
principles
dissipate.
is likely to be more rapid and certain than because they can receive from us everything that we have had to find out for ourselves, and in order to understand those simple truths and infaUible methods which we have acquired only after long error, all that they need to do is to follow the expositions and proofs that appear in our
The
progress of these peoples
our
own
If the progress of the Greeks was lost to later nations, was because of the absence of any form of communication between the different peoples, and for this we must blame the tyrannical domination of the Romans. But when mutual needs have brought all men together, and
speeches and writings.

this
the great powers have established equality

individuals
among
societies as well as
among
and have raised respect for the independence of weak states and sympathy for ignorance and misery to the rank of political principles, when maxims that favour action and energy have ousted those which would compress the province of human faculties, will it then be possible to fear that there are still places in the world inaccessible to enhghtenment, or that despotism in its pride can raise barriers against truth that are insurmountable for long? The time will therefore come when the sun will shine only on free men who know no other master but their reason; when tyrants and slaves, priests and their stupid or hypocritical instruments, will exist only in works of history and on the stage; and when we shall think of them only to pity their victims and their dupes; to maintain ourselves in a state of vigilance by
The Doctrine
105
thinking on their excesses; and to learn how to recognize and so to destroy, by force of reason, the first seeds of tyranny and superstition, should they ever dare to reappear amongst us. In looking at the history of societies we shall have had occasion to observe that there is often a great difference between the rights that the law allows its citizens and the rights that they actually enjoy, and, again, between the equaUty established by poUtical codes and that which in fact exists amongst individuals: and we shall have noticed that these differences were one of the principal causes of the destruction of freedom in the ancient republics, of the storms that troubled them, and of the weakness that deUvered them over to foreign tyrants. These differences have three main causes: inequality in wealth; inequality in status between the man whose means of subsistence are hereditary and the man whose means are dependent on the length of his hfe, or, rather, on that part of his life in which he is capable of work; and, finally, inequaUty
in education.
We
therefore need to
show
that these three sorts of real inequaUty
must
constantly diminish without, however, disappearing altogether: for they are

the result of natural and necessary causes, which
it would be fooUsh and dangerous to wish to eradicate; and one could not even attempt to bring about the entire disappearance of their effects without introducing even
more fecund sources

fatal
of inequality, without striking
more
direct
and more
blows
at the rights of
man.
It is
easy to prove that wealth has a natural tendency to equaUty, and
that any excessive disproportion could not exist, or at least
would rapidly ways of perpetuating and uniting fortunes; if free trade and industry were allowed to remove the advantages that accrued wealth derives from any restrictive law or fiscal privilege; if taxes on covenants, the restrictions placed on their free employment, their subjection to tiresome formalities, and the uncertainty and inevitable expense involved in implementmg them did not hamper the activity of the poor man and swallow up his meagre capital; if the administration of the country did not afford some men ways of making their fortune that were closed to other citizens; if prejudice and avarice, so common in old age, did not preside over the making of marriages; and if, in a society enjoying simpler manners and more sensible institutions, wealth ceased to be a means of satisfying vanity and ambition, and if the equally misguided notions of austerity, which condemn spending money in the cultivation of the more delicate pleasures, no longer insisted on the hoarding of all one's
disappear,
if civil
laws did not provide
artificial
earnings.
Let us turn to the enlightened nations of Europe, and observe the
size
of their present populations in relation to the size of their territories. Let
us consider, in agriculture and industry, the proportion that holds between
labour and the means of subsistence, and
we
shall see that
it
would be
impossible for those means to be kept at their present level, and con-
106
sequently for the population to be kept at
its
present size,
if
a great number
of individuals were not almost entirely dependent for the maintenance of
themselves and their family either on their
own
life
labour or on the interest
from
capital invested so as to
make
their labour
more
productive.
Now
both these sources of income depend on the

the head of the family.
that
it is
and even on the health of
They provide what is rather like a life annuity, save more dependent on chance; and in consequence there is a very real difference between people Uving like this and those whose resources are not at all subject to the same risks, who live either on revenue from land, or on the interest on capital, which is almost independent of their own
labour.
Here then
is
a necessary cause of inequality, of dependence and even of
misery, which ceaselessly threatens the most numerous and most active class
in our society.
We shall point out how it can be

ings
in great part eradicated
by guaranteeing
people in old age a means of livelihood produced partly by their
own
sav-
and partly by the savings of others who make the same outlay, but who die before they need to reap the reward; or, again, on the same principle of compensation, by securing for widows and orphans an income which is the same and costs the same for those families which suffer an early loss and for those which suffer it later; or again by providing all children with
the capital necessary for the full use of their labour, available at the age
when they
It is to
start
work and found a
expense of those
investment of
whom
family, a capital which increases at the premature death prevents from reaching this age.
life
the application of the calculus to the probabilities of
and the
money
that
we owe
the idea of these methods which have
already been successful, although they have not been applied in a sufficiently comprehensive and exhaustive fashion to render them really useful, not merely to a few individuals, but to society as a whole, by making it possible to prevent those periodic disasters which strike at so many families and which are such a recurrent source of misery and suffering. We shall point out that schemes of this nature, which can be organized
name of the social authority and become one of its greatest benefits, can also be the work of private associations, which will be formed without any real risk, once the principles for the proper working of these schemes have been widely diffused and the mistakes which have been the undoing of a large number of these associations no longer hold terrors for us. So we might say that a well-directed system of education rectifies natural
in the
.
.
natural inequality in the
it, just as good laws remedy means of subsistence, and just as in societies where laws have brought about this same equality, liberty, though subject to a regular constitution, will be more widespread, more complete, than in the total independence of savage life. Then the social art will have fulfilled its aim, that of assuring and extending to all men enjoyment of the common rights to which they are called by nature.
inequality in ability instead of strengthening
The Doctrine
107
The
real advantages that should result

is
from
this progress, of
which we
can entertain a hope that

kinds of equality
of supply,
will
almost a certainty, can have no other term than
that of the absolute perfection of the
human
race; since, as the various
come
and
to
work
in
its
favour by producing ampler sources
more
real
extensive education,
will
more complete
is
Hberty, so equality
really of
be more
embrace everything which

beings.
importance
for the happiness of

It is
human
therefore only
fection that
we
shall
by examining the progress and the laws of this perbe able to understand the extent or the Umits of our
hopes.
facts of nature or attain the ultimate
one has ever believed that the mind can gain knowledge of all the means of precision in the measurement, or in the analysis of the facts of nature, the relations between objects and all the possible combinations of ideas. Even the relations between
magnitudes, the mere notion of quantity or extension, taken in
its fullest
No
comprehension, gives
tered by the
of
it,
rise to
a system so vast that

its
it
will
never be mas-
human mind
in
entirety, that there will

it,
always be a part
always indeed the larger part of
that will remain forever
unknown.
People have believed that
can never know more than a part of the objects that the nature of his intelligence allows him to understand, and that he must in the end arrive at a point where the number and complexity of the objects that he already knows have absorbed all his strength so that any further progress must be completely impossible.
man
But
learns
since, as the
how
to classify
number of known facts increases, the human mind them and to subsume them under more general facts,
and, at the same time, the instruments and methods employed in their observation
and
their exact
more
relations
reduce them to
to present
measurement acquire a new precision; since, as between various objects become known, man is able to more general relations, to express them more simply, and
them in such a v/ay that it is possible to grasp a greater number them with the same degree of intellectual ability and the same amount of application; since, as the mind learns to understand more complicated
of
combinations of ideas, simpler formulae soon reduce their complexity;

so truths that were discovered only by great effort, that could at
first
only
be understood by
men
capable of profound thought, are soon developed
and proved by methods that are not beyond the reach of common intelligence. If the methods which have led to these new combinations of ideas
are ever exhausted,
if
their application to hitherto unsolved questions should
demand
exertions greater than either the time or the capacity
of the
learned would permit, some method of a greater generality or simplicity will
be found so that genius can continue undisturbed on its path. The strength and the limits of man's intelligence may remain unaltered; and yet the
instruments that he uses will increase and improve, the language that fixes
and determines his ideas will acquire greater breadth and precision, and, unUke mechanics, where an increase of force means a decrease of speed,
108
the methods that lead genius to the discovery of truth increase at once the
force and the speed of
its
operations.
Therefore, since these developments are themselves the necessary con-
sequences of progress in detailed knowledge, and since the need for
methods
it is
in fact only arises in circumstances that give rise to
new new methods,
evident that, within the body of the sciences of observation, calculation and experiment, the actual number of truths may always increase, and that every part of this body may develop, and yet man's faculties be of the same strength, activity and extent. If we apply these general reflections to the various sciences, we can find in each of them examples of progressive improvement that will remove any doubts about what we may expect for the future. We shall point out in particular the progress that is both likely and imminent in those sciences which prejudice regards as all but exhausted. We shall give examples of the manner and extent of the precision and unity which could accrue to the whole system of human knowledge as the result of a more general and
philosophical application of the sciences of calculation to the various
branches of knowledge.
We
shall
show how favourable
to
our hopes would
be a more universal system of education by giving a greater number of people the elementary knowledge which could awaken their interest in a particular branch of study, and by providing conditions favourable to their progress in it; and how these hopes would be further raised if more men
possessed the means to devote themselves to these studies, for at present
even
in the
most enlightened countries scarcely one

this
in fifty of the people
who have
and how,
natural talents receives the necessary education to develop them;

if
number
of
.
men
.
.
were done, there would be a proportionate increase in the destined by their discoveries to extend the boundaries
of science.
be able to produce a great quantity more goods will be obtained for a smaller outlay; the manufacture of articles will be achieved with less wastage in raw materials and will make better use of them. Every type of
small
will
A very
amount of ground
of supplies of greater utility or higher quality;
soil will
produce those things which
satisfy the greatest
of several alternative ways of satisfying needs of the
be chosen which satisfies the greatest least labour and least expenditure. So, without the need for sacrifice, methods of preservation and economy in expenditure will improve in the wake of progress in the arts of producing and preparing supplies and making articles from them. So not only will the same amount of ground support more people, but everyone will have less work to do, wiU produce more, and satisfy his
wants more
fully.
number of needs; same order, that will number of people and which requires
With
all this
progress in industry and welfare, which establishes a hap-
pier proportion
between men's
talents
and
their needs,
each successive
generation will have larger possessions, either as a result of this progress
The Doctrine
109
or through the preservation of the products of industry; and so, as a consequence of the physical constitution of the human race, the number
of people will increase. Might there not then
come
moment when
these
necessary laws begin to
work
in a contrary direction;
when, the number

subsistence, there
of people in the world finally exceeding the

will
means of
in
consequence ensue a continual

societies that
diminution of happiness
and
population, a true retrogression, or at best an oscillation between good and
bad? In
have reached
this stage, will
not this oscillation be a
more or less periodic disaster? Will it not show that a point has been attained beyond which all further improvement is imposperennial source of
sible, that the perfectibility of the
human
race has after long years arrived
term beyond which it may never go? There is doubtless no one who does not think that such a time is still very far from us; but will it ever arrive? It is impossible to pronounce about the likeUhood of an event that will occur only when the human species will have necessarily acquired a degree of knowledge of which we
at a
can have no inkling. And who would take it upon himself to predict the condition to which the art of converting the elements to the use of man may in time be brought? But even if we agree that the limit will one day arrive, nothing follows from it that is in the least alarming as far as either the happiness of the
human
before
race or
all this
its
indefinite perfectibility
is
concerned.
If
we
consider that,
comes
to pass, the progress of reason will
have kept pace
with that of the sciences, and that the absurd prejudices of superstition will have ceased to corrupt and degrade the moral code by its harsh doctrines
instead of purifying and elevating
will
it,
know
is
that,
if
they have a duty towards those
we can assume that by then men who are not yet born, that
duty
not to give them existence but to give them happiness; their aim should be to promote the general welfare of the human race or of the society in which they live or of the family to which they belong, rather
than foolishly to encumber the world with useless and wretched beings. It is, then, possible that there should be a limit to the amount of food that can be produced, and, consequently, to the size of the population of the
world, without this involving that untimely destruction of
creatures
some of those
who have been

.
. .
given
life,
which
is
so contrary to nature and
to social prosperity.
Organic
perfectibility or deterioration
vegetable and animal
amongst the various strains in the kingdom can be regarded as one of the general
laws of nature. This law also applies to the

that,
human
race.
No
one can doubt
as
preventive medicine improves and food and housing
become
healthier, as a
way
of
life is
established that develops our physical powers
by exercise without ruining them by excess, as the two most virulent causes of deterioration, misery and excessive wealth, are eliminated, the average length of human life wiU be increased and a better health and a stronger physical constitution will be ensured. The improvement of medical prac-
110
tice,
which
will
of the social order, will
and
illnesses
become more efficacious with the progress of reason and mean the end of infectious and hereditary diseases brought on by climate, food, or working conditions. It is reaall
may Ukewise disappear as their be absurd, then, to suppose that distant causes are discovered. Would this perfection of the human species might be capable of indefinite progress; that the day will come when death will be due only to extraordinary accidents or to the decay of the vital forces, and that ultimately the average span between birth and decay will have no assignable value? Certainly man will not become immortal, but will not the interval between the first
sonable to hope that
other diseases
it
breath that he draws and the time
when
in the natural course of events,
without disease or accident, he expires, increase indefinitely? Since we are now speaking of a progress than can be represented with some accuracy
in figures or
on a graph, we shall take this opportunity of explaining the two meanings that can be attached to the word indefinite. In truth, this average span of Ufe, which we suppose will increase indefinitely as time passes, may grow in conformity either with a law such
that
it,
it
continually approaches a Umitless length but without ever reaching

it
or with a law such that through the centuries
reaches a length greater

it
than any determinate quantity that we may assign to latter case such an increase is truly indefinite in the
as
its limit.
In the
stop.
strictest
sense of the
word, since there
is
no term on
this side of
which
it
must of necessity
In the former case it is equally indefinite in relation to us if we cannot fix the Umit it always approaches without ever reaching, and particularly if, knowing only that it wUl never stop, we are ignorant in which of the two senses the term indefinite can be appHed to it. Such is the present condition of our knowledge as far as the perfectibility of the human race is concerned; such
is
the sense in which
we may
call
it
indefinite.
So, in the example under consideration,
we
are
bound
to believe that
is
the average length of
human
life will
forever increase unless this

the limit
is
preit
vented by physical revolutions;
we do not know what
which
can never exceed. We cannot tell even whether the general laws of nature have determined such a Umit or not. But are not our physical faculties and the strength, dexterity and acuteness of our senses, to be numbered among the qualities whose perfection in the individual may be transmitted? Observation of the various breeds of domestic animals inclines us to beheve that they are, and we can confirm
this
by
direct observation of the
human
race.
not extend such hopes to the intellectual and moral faculties? May not our parents, who transmit to us the benefits or disadvantages of their constitution, and from whom we receive our shape and features, as well as our tendencies to certain physical affections, hand on to us also that part of the physical organization which determines the
Finally
may we
intellect,
the
power of the
it
brain, the ardour of the soul or the moral
sensibility? Is
not probable that education, in perfecting these qualities,
The Doctrine
will at the
injluence,
111
modify and perfect the organization itself? faculties and the study of certain facts, aU seem to give substance to such conjectures, which would further push back the boundaries of our hopes. These are the questions with which we shall conclude this final stage. How consoHng for the philosopher, who laments the errors, the crimes, the injustices which still poUute the earth, and of which he is often the victim, is this view of the human race, emancipated from its shackles, released from the empire of fate and from that of the enemies of its
same time
Analogy, investigation of the
human
progress, advancing with a firm

virtue
and sure step along the path of

assist
truth,
and happiness!
all
It
is
the contemplation of this prospect that rethe progress of reason and the
wards hun for

chain of
his efforts to
defence of Uberty.
human
dares to regard these strivings as part of the eternal destiny; and in this persuasion he is filled with the
He
and the pleasure of having done some lasting good, can never destroy by a sinister stroke of revenge, by calling back the reign of slavery and prejudice. Such contemplation is for him an asylum, in which the memory of his persecutors cannot pursue him; there he lives m thought with man restored to his natural rights and dignity, forgets man tormented and corrupted by greed, fear, or envy; there he
true delight of virtue
which
fate
lives
with his peers in an Elysium created by reason and graced by the
purest pleasures
known
to the love of
mankind.
(Translation by June Barraclough)
HERBERT SPENCER
Reconciliation of Science
and Religion
Herbert Spencer (1820-1903) was an English engineer turned philosopher, who, like St. Thomas, also wrote a summa, though he would have hated
that
title.
as cosmic (and
given the
is a better sampling of the modern belief in Progress human) purpose than Condorcet, for Darwin's work had Englishman an explanation of the way change (Progress) came
Spencer
about, an explanation the eighteenth-century French philosophes never
Rather than choosing one of Spencer's numerous have chosen a passage on one of the great nineteenth-century topics, the warfare between Religion and Science a M'arfare Spencer thought he had settled. Note that Spencer cannot quite rid his mind of a godhead, even though, duly capitalizing, he refers to Him as The Unknowable.
satisfactorily arrived at.
direct expositions of the teleological doctrine of Evolution-Progress, I
HERE THEN
SET OUT TO SEEK. THIS and subjective science shows to be unavoidable this conclusion which, while it in the main expresses the doctrine of the Enghsh school of philosophy, recognizes also a soul
IS
THAT BASIS OF AGREEMENT
WE
conclusion which objective science
illustrates,
of truth in the doctrine of the antagonist
German
school
this
conclusion
which brings the
results of speculation into
harmony with those of comObjective Science proves
mon
sense,
is
also the conclusion
which reconciles Religion with Science.

reality;
Common
Sense asserts the existence of a

think of
as
that this reahty caimot be
we cannot
ing;
it
it
what we think it; Subjective Science shows why is, and yet are compelled to think of it as exist-
and in this assertion of a Reality utterly inscrutable in nature, Religion finds an assertion essentially coinciding with her own. We are obliged to regard every phenomenon as a manifestation of some Power by which we are acted upon; though Omnipresence is unthinkable, yet, as experience discloses no bounds to the diffusion of phenomena, we are unable to think of limits to the presence of this Power; while the criticisms of Science teach
From Herbert Spencer, First Principles (New York: H. M. Caldwell Co., n.d.). (Fourth edition, Preface dated 1880), pp. 82-90, 93-95.
112
Reconciliation of Science and Religion
113
us that this Power

limits, is just that
is
incomprehensible.
And
this
consciousness of an Inits
comprehensible Power, called Omnipresent from inability to assign

consciousness on which ReUgion dwells.
To understand fully how real is the reconciliation thus reached, it will be needful to look at the receptive attitudes that Religion and Science have all along maintained toward this conclusion. We must observe how, all along, the imperfections of each have been undergoing correction by the other; and how the final outcome of their mutual criticisms can be nothing else than an entire agreement on this deepest and widest of all
truths.
In Religion
let
us recognize the high merit that from the beginning
it
has dimly discerned the ultimate verity, and has never ceased to insist upon it. In its earUest and crudest forms it manifested, however vaguely and
inconsistently,
all
an
intuition
forming the germ of
this highest
behef in which
is
philosophies finally unite.
The consciousness
of a mystery
traceable
in the rudest fetishism.
Each higher
religious creed, rejecting those definite
religious
and simple interpretations of Nature previously given, has become more by doing this. As the quite concrete and conceivable agencies alleged as the causes of things have been replaced by agencies less concrete and conceivable, the element of mystery has of necessity become more predominant. Through all its successive phases the disappearance of those positive dogmas by which the mystery was made unmysterious, has formed the essential change delineated in religious history. And so Religion has ever been approximating toward that complete recognition of this mystery which is its goal. For its essentially valid belief. Religion has constantly done battle. Gross as were the disguises under which it first espoused this belief, and cherishing this belief though it still is, under disfiguring vestments, it has never ceased to maintain and defend it. It has everywhere estabUshed and propagated one or other modification of the doctrine that all things are manifestations of a Power that transcends our knowledge. Though from age to age. Science has continually defeated it wherever they have come in collision, and has obliged it to relinquish one or more of its positions, it
has
of
still
held the remaining ones with undiminished tenacity.

its
posure of the logical inconsistency of

its
conclusions
to
no proof
weaken
its
No
ex-
that each
allegiance
particular
dogmas was absurd, has been able
to that ultimate verity for
which it stands. After criticism has aboUshed all its arguments and reduced it to silence, there has still remained with it the indestructible consciousness of a truth which, however faulty the mode in which it had been expressed, was yet a truth beyond cavil. To this conviction its adherence has been substantially sincere. And for the guardianship and diffusion of it Humanity has ever been, and must ever be, its
debtor.
But while, from the beginning, Rehgion has had the
all-essential ofl&ce
114
of preventing
HERBERT SPENCER
men from being wholly absorbed in the relative or immediate, and of awakening them to a consciousness of something beyond it, this office has been but very imperfectly discharged. Religion has ever been more or less irreligious; and it continues to be partially irreligious even now. In the first place, as implied above, it has all along professed to have some knowledge of that which transcends knowledge; and has so contradicted its own teachings. While with one breath it has asserted that the Cause of all things passes understanding, it has, with the next breath, asserted that the Cause of all things possesses such or such attributes can be in so far understood. In the second place, while in great part sincere in its fealty to the great truth it has had to uphold, it has often been insincere, and consequently irreligious, in maintaining the untenable doctrines by which it has obscured this great truth. Each assertion respecting the nature, acts, or motives of that Power which the Universe manifests to us, has been repeatedly called in question, and proved to be inconsistent with itself, or with accompanying assertions. Yet each of them has been age after age insisted on, in spite of a secret consciousness that it would not bear examination. Just as though unaware that its central position was impregnable, ReUgion has obstinately held every outpost long after it was obviously indefensible. And this naturally introduces us to the third and most serious form of irreUgion which Religion has displayed; namely, an imperfect beUef in that which it especially professes to beheve. How
truly its central position is impregnable. Religion has never adequately realized. In the devoutest faith as we habitually see it, there lies hidden an innermost core of scepticism; and it is this scepticism which causes that dread of inquiry displayed by Religion when face to face with Science. Obliged to abandon one by one the superstitions it once tenaciously held, and daily finding its cherished beliefs more and more shaken. Religion shows a secret fear that all things may some day be explained; and thus itself betrays a lurking doubt whether that Incomprehensible Cause of which it
is
conscious
is
really incomprehensible.
Of
errors
Religion, then,
we must always remember,

it
that
amid
its
and corruptions
has asserted and diffused a supreme verity.

element; and
many From
the
first,
the recognition of this supreme verity, in however imperfect a

its vital its
manner, has been

that which
it
various defects, once extreme

failures to recognize in full
but gradually diminishmg, have been so

recognized in part.
many
The
truly religious element of Religion
has always been good; that which has proved untenable in doctrine and vicious in practice has been its irreligious element; and from this it has
been ever undergoing
purification.
And now
observe that,
all
along, the agent which has effected the
purification has
been Science.
its
is
We
habitually overlook the fact that this

its
has been one of
functions.
Rehgion ignores
all
Science; and Science
scarcely at
conscious
how much
immense debt to Religion owes
115
Yet it from its

it.
demonstrable that every step by which Religion has progressed low conception to the comparatively high one it has now reached, Science has helped it, or rather forced it, to take; and that even
is
first
now. Science is urging further steps in the same direction. Using the word Science in its true sense, as comprehending all positive and definite knowledge of the order existing among surrounding phenomena, it becomes manifest that from the outset the discovery of an established order has modified that conception of disorder, or undetermined
order, which underlies every superstition.
that certain familiar changes always
As
fast
as experience proves
happen
in the
same sequence, there

special personality to
begins to fade from the
mind the conception of a

were before ascribed.
whose variable
will they
And
when, step by
step,
accumulating observations do the like with the
less familiar
changes, a
similar modification of belief takes place with respect to them.
it,
While this process seems to those who effect, and those who undergo an anti-religious one, it is reaUy the reverse. Instead of the specific
is
comprehensible agency before assigned, there
substituted a less specific
and
less
comprehensible agency; and though

first
this,
standing in opposition
same feeling, yet, as must eventually call forth this feeling more fully. Take an instance. Of old the Sun was regarded as the chariot of a god, drawn by horses. How far the idea thus grossly expressed, was idealized, we need not inquire. It suffices to remark that this accounting for the apparent motion of the Sun by an agency like certain visible terrestrial agencies, reduced a daily wonder to the level of the commonest
to the previous one, cannot at
call forth the
being less comprehensible,
it
intellect.
When, many centuries after, Kepler discovered that the planets moved round the Sun in ellipses and described equal areas in equal times,
he concluded that in each planet there must
ments. Here
exist
spirit to
we
see that with the progress of Science, there
guide its movehad disappeared

assigned in the
the idea of a gross mechanical traction, such as
was
first
case of the Sun; but that while for this there was substituted an indefinite
and
less easily
conceivable force,
it
was
still
thought needful to assume a
special personal agent as a cause of the regular irregularity of motion.
When,
"their variations
was proved that these planetary revolutions, with all and disturbances, conformed to one universal law when the presiding spirits which Kepler conceived were set aside, and the force the change was really the abolition of of gravitation put in their place an imaginable agency, and the substitution of an unimaginable one. For though the law of gravitation is within our mental grasp, it is impossible
finally,
it
to realize in thought the force of gravitation.
Newton
himself confessed the
force of gravitation to be incomprehensible without the intermediation of
an ether; and, as we have already seen, the assumption of an ether does

not in the least help us. Thus
it is with Science in general. Its progress in grouping particular relations of phenomena under laws, and these special laws under laws more and more general, is of necessity a progress to
116
causes that are
HERBERT SPENCER
more and more
abstract.
And
causes
more and more ab-
stract are of necessity causes less
and
less
conceivable; since the formation
of an abstract conception involves the dropping of certain concrete ele-
ments of thought. Hence the most abstract conception, to which Science is ever slowly approaching, is one that merges into the inconceivable or unthinkable, by the dropping of all concreted elements of thought. And so is justified the assertion, that the beliefs which Science has forced upon Religion have been intrinsically more reUgious than those which
they supplanted.
Science however, like Religion, has but very incompletely fulfilled
office.
its
As Rehgion has
fallen short of
its
function in so far as function in so far as
it it
has been has been
irreligious, so
has Science fallen short of
its
Let us note the several parallelisms. In its earlier stages, Science, while it began to teach the constant relations of phenomena, and so discredited the belief in separate personalities as the causes of them, itself substituted the belief in causal agencies which, if not personal, were yet concrete. When certain facts were said to show "Nature's abhorrence of a vacuum," when the properties of gold were explained as due to some entity called "aureity," and when the phenomena of life were atunscientific.
tributed to "a vital principle," there

facts,
was
set
up a mode of
it
interpreting the
which, while antagonistic to the religious mode, because assigning

professed to
other agencies, was also unscientific, because
know
that
about which nothing was known. Having abandoned these metaphysical agencies having seen that they were not independent existences, but
merely special combinations of general causes. Science has more recently ascribed extensive groups of phenomena to electricity, chemical affinity, and other like general powers. But in speaking of these as ultimate and
independent
included,
entities.
Science has preserved substantially the same attitude
as before. Accounting thus for all

it
phenomena, those of Life and Thought

its
has not only maintained
by
fic.
alleging agencies of a radically unlike kind; but, in so far as
seeming antagonism to Religion, it has
tacitly
assumed a knowledge of these agencies, it has continued unscientithe present time, however, the most advanced men of science are abandoning these later conceptions, as their predecessors abandoned the earlier ones. Magnetism, heat, light, etc., which were a while since spoken
At
of as so many distinct imponderables, physicists are now beginning to regard as different modes of manifestation of some one universal force; and in so doing are ceasing to think of this force as comprehensible. In
each phase of its progress, Science has thus stopped short with superficial solutions has unscientifically neglected to ask what was the nature of the agents it so famiUarly invoked. Though in each succeeding phase it has gone
little
deeper, and merged

it
its
supposed agents in more general and

if
abstract ones,
has
still,
as before, rested content with these as
they
were ascertained
fic
which has aU along been the unscienticharacteristic of Science, has aU along been a part cause of its conffict
reahties.
this,
And
with Religion.
117
We see then that, from the first, have been the faults of imperfect development. Originally a mere rudiment, each has been growing into a more complete form; the vice of each has in all times been its incompleteness; the disagreements between them have throughout been nothing more than the consequences of their incompleteness; and as they reach their final forms, they come into entire
the faults of both Religion and Science
harmony.
progress of intelligence has throughout been dual. Though it has seemed so to those who made it, every step in advance has been a step not toward both the natural and the supernatural. The better interpretation of each phenomenon has been, on the one hand, the rejection of a cause that was relatively conceivable in its nature but unknown in the order of its actions, and, on the other hand, the adoption of a cause that was known
The
in the order of
its
actions but relatively inconceivable in
its
nature.
The
first advance out of universal fetishism manifestly involved the conception of agencies less assimilable to the familiar agencies of men and animals,
and therefore less understood; while at the same time, such newly conceived agencies, in so far as they were distinguished by their uniform effects,
were better understood than those they replaced. All subsequent advances display the same double result. Every deeper and more general power arrived at as a cause of phenomena has been at once less comprehensible
than the special ones
sense that
it
representable in thought; while

its
superseded, in the sense of being less definitely it has been more comprehensible in the
actions have been
more completely
predicable.
The
progress
has thus been as

as
much toward
the establishment of a positively
unknown
toward the establishment of a positively known. Though as knowledge approaches its culmination, every unaccountable and seemingly supernatural fact is brought into the category of facts that are accountable or natural; yet, at the same time, all accountable or natural facts are proved
to
be in
their ultimate genesis
unaccountable and supernatural.

think.
And
so
there arise two antithetical states of mind, answering to the opposite sides
of that existence about which

ture under the one
we
aspect constitutes Science,
While our consciousness of Naour consciousness of it
under the other aspect constitutes Religion, Otherwise contemplating the facts, we may say that Religion and Science have been undergoing a slow differentiation; and that their ceaseless conflicts have been due to the imperfect separation of their spheres and functions. Religion has, from the first, struggled to unite more or less science with its nescience; Science has, from the first, kept hold of more or less nescience as though it were a part of science. Each has been obUged gradually to reUnquish that territory which it wrongly claimed, while it has gained from the other that to which it had a right; and the antagonism between
them has been an

statement will
inevitable
accompaniment of
this process.
A more specific
professed
a mystery, also
it asserted make this clear. Religion, though made numerous definite assertions respecting this mystery to know its nature in the minutest detail, and in so far as it
at the outset
118
claimed positive knowledge,
it
HERBERT SPENCER
the times of early mythologies,
From
with the mystery was alleged,

abstract
upon the province of Science. when such intimate acquaintance down to our own days, when but a few
trespassed
and vague propositions are maintained, Religion has been comby Science to give up one after another of its dogmas those assumed cognitions which it could not substantiate. In the mean tune. Science substituted for the personalities to which ReUgion ascribed phenomena, certain metaphysical entities; and in doing this it trespassed on the province of Religion; since it classed among the things which it comprehended certain forms of the incomprehensible. Partly by the criticisms of Religion, which has occasionally called in question its assumptions, and partly as a consequence of spontaneous growth. Science has been obliged to abandon these attempts to include within the boundaries of knowledge that which cannot be known; and has so yielded up to ReUgion that which of right belonged to it. So long as this process of differentiation is incomplete, more or less of antagonism must continue. Gradually as the limits of
pelled
possible cognition are established, the causes of conflict will diminish.
And
a permanent peace will be reached

its
when
it
Science becomes fully conultimate and
vinced that
absolute.
explanations are proximate and relative; while Rehgion bethat the mystery
comes fuUy convinced
contemplates
is
Religion and Science are therefore necessary correlatives.

hinted, they stand respectively for those
As
already
of con-
two
antithetical
modes
sciousness which cannot exist asunder.
known carmot be thought
of
unknown; nor can an unknown be thought of apart from a known. And by consequence neither can become more distinct without giving greater distinctness to the other. To carry further a metaphor before used they are the positive and negative poles of thought; of which neither
apart from an
can gain
in intensity without increasing the intensity of the other.
Volumes might be written upon the impiety of the pious. Through the printed and spoken thoughts of religious teachers may almost everywhere
to say the least of
be traced a professed familiarity with the ultimate mystery of things, which, it, seems anything but congruous with the accompanying expressions of humility. And surprisingly enough, those tenets which most clearly display this familiarity are those insisted upon as forming the vital elements of reUgious belief. The attitude thus assumed can be fitly represented only by further developing a simile long current in theological controversies
the simile of the watch. If for a
moment we made
the grotesque
supposition that the tickings and other
movements
of a watch constituted a
kind of consciousness; and that a watch possessed of such a consciousness
on regarding the watchmaker's actions as determined like its own by and escapements; we should simply complete a parallel of which religious teachers think much. And were we to suppose that a watch not
insisted
springs
only formulated the cause of
its
existence in these mechanical terms but
held that watches were bound out of reverence so to formulate this cause.
119
any that did not venture so to presumption of theologians by carrying a step further. A few extracts will bring home to the reader the justice of this comparison. We are told, for example, by one of high repute among religious thinkers, that the Universe is "the manifestation and abode of a Free Mind, like our own; embodying His
and even vituperated,

it;
as atheistic watches,
formulate
we should merely their own argument
illustrate the
personal thought in
ena, just as
its
adjustments, realizing His
own
we
ideal in
its
phenom-
we
express our inner faculty and character through the natlife.
ural language of an external
In this view,
interpret
Nature by
Humanity; we
as our
own
key to her aspects in such purposes and affections consciousness enables us to conceive; we look everywhere
find the
for physical signals of an ever-living Will;
and decipher the universe as the

itself in
autobiography of an Infinite
Finite Spirit."
Spirit,
repeating
still
miniature within our

thinks the
The same
writer goes
further.
He
the assimilation of the
watchmaker
to the
watch
he not only
not only thus parallels
created can "decipher" "the autobiography" of the Creating; but he asserts

that the necessary limits of the one are necessary limits of the other. The primary qualities of bodies, he says, "belong eternally to the material datum objective to God" and control his acts; while the secondary ones
Reason and Determining Will" consti"While on this Secondary field His Mind and ours are thus contrasted, they meet in resemblance again upon the Primary; for the evolutions of deductive Reason there is but one track possible to all intelligences; no merum arbitrium can interchange the false and true, or make more than one geometry, one scheme of pure Physics, for all worlds; and the Omnipotent Architect Himself, in reaUzing the Cosmical conception, in shaping the orbits out of immensity and determining seasons out of eternity, could but follow the laws of curvature, measure and proportion. That is to say, the Ultimate Cause is like a human mechanic, not only as 'shaping' the 'material datum objective to' Him, but also as being obhged to conform to the necessary properties of that datum." Nor is this all. There follows some account of "the Divine psychology,"
are "products of pure Inventive
tute "the
reakn of Divine originality."
to the extent of saying that

affections in
we
learn "the character of
God
the order of
Him" from
"the distribution of authority in the hierarchy of

it
Cause has and lower like our own.* Every one has heard of the king who wished he had been present at the creation of the world, that he might have given good advice. He was humble, however, compared with those who profess to understand not only the relation
our impulses." In other words,
is
alleged that the Ultimate
desires that are to be classed as higher
of the Creating to the created, but also
how
the Creating
is
constituted.
And
yet this transcendent audacity, which claims to penetrate the secrets
Power manifested to us through all existence nay even to stand behind that Power and note the conditions to its action this it is which
of the
These extracts are from an
article entitled
"Nature and God," published in the
National Review for October, 1860.
120
passes current as piety!
HERBERT SPENCER
May we
not without hesitation affirm that a sin-
cere recognition of the truth that our

tery absolutely
own and all other existence is a mysand forever beyond our comprehension, contains more
all
of true religion than
the dogmatic theology ever written?

is
Meanwhile
let
us recognize whatever of permanent good there
in these
frame conceptions of that which cannot be conceived. From the beginning it has been only through the successive failures of such conceptions to satisfy the mind, that higher and higher ones have been gradually reached; and doubtless, the conceptions now current are inpersistent attempts to
Even more than this may be nay probable, that under their most abstract forms, ideas of this order wiU always continue to occupy the background of our consciousness. Very hkely there will ever remain a need to give shape to that indefinite sense of an Ultimate Existence, which forms the basis of our intelligence. We shall always be under the necessity of
dispensable as transitional
is
modes
of thought.
willingly conceded. It
possible,
it as some mode of being, that is, of representing it to oursome form of thought, however vague. And we shaU not err in doing this so long as we treat every notion we thus frame as merely a
contemplating
selves in
symbol, utterly without resemblance to that for which

as inadequate
it
stands.
Perhaps
the constant formation of such symbols and constant rejection of
them
may be
hereafter, as
it
has hitherto been, a means of disci-
pline. Perpetually to construct ideas requiring the

faculties,
utmost stretch of our
must be abandoned as futile imaginations, may realize to us, more fully than any other course, the greatness of that which we vainly strive to grasp. Such efforts and failures may serve to maintain in our minds a due sense of the incommensurable difference between the Conditioned and the Unconditioned. By continually seeking to know and being continually thrown back with a deepened convicto find that such ideas
and perpetually
tion of the impossibihty of knowing, that

it is
we may keep
alive the consciousness
alike our highest

all
through which
things
wisdom and our highest duty exist as The Unknowable.
to regard that
SHERMAN
H. M.
CHANG
The Stateless-Communistic Society of Marxism
am
repeating a
"classless society" as
their successors,
commonplace when I list the Marxist doctrine of the an eschatological doctrine. But Marx, Engels, and
filled
though they were
with moral purpose, thought of

scientists,
themselves as scientists; and modern natural

of teleological language.
revolting against
Aristotelian and other formal teleologies, have been very
much
is
afraid
Many
of them smuggled purpose in, of course,
but like
all
smugglers, they were self-consciously furtive. It

is
not sur-
about their heaven than the Christian is about theirs. Engels' well-known pamphlet Socialism: Utopian and Scientific, which I shall cite later, has a few suitable passages. But I have decided to take a radical step, and use in an anthology
prising that the Marxist literature
less explicit
thesis. Dr. Chang's work has most of the stigmata of the thesis for the Ph.D., including long footnotes many of which I have had to omit. But in good American, it "covers the ground." Here is the Utopia of the Marx-Engels for whom "Utopia" was the silly doctrine of Owen, Fourier, and the like, in contrast to their own Scientific Socialism. If this be Science, they have surely made the most of it.
much, much
something from a doctoral
AS
WE HAVE
proletarian State in detail,

.
.
DESCRIBED THE THEORY OF THE WITHERING-AWAY OF THE we shall proceed further to examine the stateless,
communistic society There are five outstanding features of the stateless-communistic society which are interesting as well as romantic. One obvious feature is anarchy, namely, that there is no government, since the State will have disappeared. Society wiU then be a vast association for production, wherein all work will be performed voluntarily by every one as a habit. Every one is to be so accustomed to observing the rules of Hfe that even the simplest manag-
From Sherman H, M. Chang, The Marxian Theory of the State (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania, Ph.D. thesis, 1931), pp. 133-139.
121
122
SHERMAN H.M. CHANG
ing functions such as "bookkeeping and control" (in the sense of "watching,
recording and issuing receipts") will become unnecessary.
In order to carry out the common economic plan, there however, some "counting-houses and statistical bureaus":
may
exist,
work of administering will be done in various counting-houses bureaus. From these places the whole field of production will be surveyed, and the quantity of goods required will be ascertained. It wiU also be learned where the number of workers should be increased and where decreased, and how long their working day should be. There will be no necessity for having Ministers for special departments, and no need for policemen, prisons, laws, etc. As in an orchestra all the performers take their cue from the conductor, so all members of society will read the instructions of the bureaus and arrange their work accordingly. ... In the bureaus there will be one set of workers to-day, and another set to-morrow.^
principal
The
and
statistical
In other words, the functions of these bureaus are, to use Engels's

language, "administration of things" rather than "government of persons"
and they are not special functions of a
special class.
is
The second
feature of the stateless-communistic society
the absence
of class distinctions, which, as
we have
seen,
is
the fundamental reason
for the disappearance of the State.
Engels that in the
new
society there will
classes, the abolition of
which
of
.
.
is
by Marx and be no class antagonisms and no the ultimate aim of Scientific SociaUsm.
are constantly told
We
Hence we read
in
"A B C
Communism":
In the Communist society there will be no landowners, no capitalists, no wage workers; there will be simply human beings, comrades. There will be no classes, no class war, no class organizations.^
.
The
third feature of the stateless-communistic society
is
the disappear"lies at
ance of the division of labor, which division, according to Engels,

the basis of the division into classes."
He
characterizes this feature of the
new
society as follows:
... on the one hand, no single individual wiU be able to shift his share in productive labor, in providing the essentials of human existence, upon another, and on the other hand productive labor instead of being a means of slavery will be a means toward human freedom, in that it offers an opportunity to every one to develop his full powers, physical and intellectual, in every direction and to exercise them so that it makes a pleasure out of a burden.^
Hence one
Marx, there
result of the disappearance of the division of labor is
an
all-round development of the faculties of the individual. According to

distinction between manual and intelbe absorbed into the masses; the bourgeois intellectual class, abolished; and the system of the specialists, destroyed. "The new communistic society strives after unity in production, unity
will
no longer be any
lectual labor. Intellect will
in mental
^
life,
in science."
Culture will be "general, many-sided";
"it
Bukharin and Preobraschensky, A.B.C. of Communism, pp. 59-60.

59.
italics ours.
2 Ibid., p.
Êngels, Landmarks of Scientific Socialism, pp. 240-241;
The Stateless-Communistic society of Marxism

will
123
be a
really
human
culture,
and not a
class one." This abolition of in-
tellectuals as a class is also
known
as "the socialization of intellect
and
the
culture."
Another
is
result of the
disappearance of the division of labor
is
abolition of the distinction between
town and country,
since this distinction
"the
first
great division of labor."

is:
One
of the measures advocated in
the
Communist Manifesto
Combination of agriculture with manufacturing industries; gradual abolition of the distinction between town and country by a more equal distribution of population over the country.*
Certainly this
will
withers away. The reason for
have been accomplished by the time the State this certainty is given by Engels as foUows:
ble, it
abolition of the antagonism between town and country is not only possihas become an absolute necessity for industrial production itself. It has also become a necessity for agricultural production, and is, above all, essential to the maintenance of the public health. Only through the amalgamation of city and country can the present poisoning of air, water, and localities, be put at
The
an end and the waste filth of the cities be used for the cultivation of vegetation rather than the spreading of disease.^
Engels re-assures us:
The
an
abolition of the separation between
town and country
is
no Utopia,
it is
essential condition of the proportionate distribution of the greater industry throughout the country. Civilization has left us a number of large cities, as an
inheritance,
which
it
will take
much
and
will
be done away with, however
time and trouble to abolish. But they must much time and trouble it may take.^
Thus, in the stateless-communistic society city and country are amalgamated. There will be vegetable gardens in cities and industrial workshops in villages. No more crowded towns, but everywhere "garden cities."
is abundance of which makes that society possible. As pointed out by Marx, the wealth, formula, "From each according to his ability, to each according to his needs," can be realized "when, with the development of all the faculties of the individual, the productive forces have correspondingly increased and all the springs of social wealth flow more abundantly." Lenin further ex-
The
fourth feature of the stateless-communistic society
plains this
The
State will be able to wither
the formula:
needs"; that
away completely when Society has realized "From each according to his ability; to each according to his is, when people have become accustomed to observe the funda.
. .
mental principles of social life, and their labor is so productive, that they will There will then be no need voluntarily work according to their abilities. for an exact calculation by Society of the quantity of products to be distributed "'^ to each of its members; each will take freely "according to his needs.
*
^
The Communist Manifesto,
p.
42.
Engels, Landmarlcs of Scientific Socialism, pp. 243-244. Ibid., p. 244. Lenin, The State and Revolution, p. 102; italics his.
'^
124
Therefore, in the opinion of
SHERMAN H.M. CHANG
is a very imaware of this. He points out clearly that the division of society into classes was based upon scarcity and that the abolition of classes presupposes abundance. But Engels beheves that this abundance is a possibility not far from now:
Marx and
Lenin, abundance
portant condition in the
new
society. Engels, too, is fully
The possibility of securing for every member of society, by means of socialized production, an existence not only fully sufficient materially, and becoming day by day more full, but an existence guaranteeing to all the free development and exercise of their physical and mental faculties this possibility is now for the first time here, but it is here.^
According to Bukharin and Preobraschensky,

realized in the
this possibility will
be
new
society for three reasons:
First, a great mass of human energy will be set free which was formerly consumed in the class struggle. Second, the energy and wealth which are used up and destroyed in competition, crises and wars, will be devoted to social purposes. Third, organization not only prevents waste; it also makes possi.^ ble the improvement of technical production
. . . .
will
Such being the case, be an abundance of unknown."
in the stateless-communistic society, then, "there

all
things required." "Poverty
and
scarcity will
be
feature of the stateless-communistic society is a change in human which makes that society durable and endurable. As we have seen, a new habit will be formed that will make the State wither away, and the new society belongs to the new generations grown up under new conditions. But that habit is so new that it is nothing less than a change in human nature. Hence there will be no one in the new society Uke "the present unthinking 'man in the street.' " Each will work according to his ability and take according to his needs. In other words, human nature is to be so radically modified by the new environment that all conflicts wUl cease. There will be a harmony of interests. In short, a society with the above five features is what is expected in Marxism. Only then, the dialectics of social evolution ceases to work; social revolutions become a history of the past. Only then, man will become really free; man will control nature, instead of being controlled by nature. As
fifth
The
nature,
Engels depicts the beginning of the new society:
Then
for the
first
time,
man,
in a certain sense, is finally
marked
off
from the
exist-
rest of the
animal kingdom, and emerges from mere animal conditions of
ence into really human ones. The whole sphere of the conditions of life which environ man, and which have hitherto ruled man, now comes under the dominion and control of man, who for the first time becomes the real, conscious lord of Nature, because he has now become master of his own social organization. The laws of his own social action, hitherto standing face to face with man as laws of Nature foreign to, and dominating, him, will then be used with full
Cf. Engels, Socialism, Utopian
and
Scientific, p.
cit.,
133; italics his.
Bukharin and Preobraschensky, op.
p. 61.
The Stateless-Communistic Society
of
Marxism
125
understanding, and so mastered by him. Man's own social organization, hitherto confronting him as a necessity imposed by Nature and history, now becomes the result of his own free action. The extraneous objective forces that have hitherto governed history, pass under the control of man himself. Only from that time will man himself, more and more consciously, make his own history only from that time will the social causes set in movement by him have, in the main and in a constantly growing measure, the results intended by him. It is the ascent of man from the kingdom of necessity to the kingdom of freedom}'^
social organization,
Thus Engels concludes: "Man, at last the master of his own form of becomes at the same time the lord over Nature, his
own master
11 Ibid., p.
free."^^
italics ours.
^"Engels, Socialism, Utopian and Scientific, pp. 134-135;

139.
c
Right and Wrong:
Ethics

The Ten Commandments
The Ten Commandments of the Old Testament, the Sermon on the Mount New, are the most familiar ethical writings of our culture. Of course the tone of these two is quite different. Yet it is a mistake to set the Ten Commandments and, in particular, the Beatitudes which begin the Sermon on the Mount, in opposition, the first as harsh authoritarianism, the second as gentle philosophical anarchism. The two are merged in common Chrisof the
tian tradition,
Hellenic
one
which
is ethically
at
bottom a surprisingly Whiggish
even
of avoidance of extremes.
EXODUS
Chapter 19
14 f
tified
And Moses went down from

washed
the
mount unto
the people, and sanc-
the people, and they
their clothes.
15
And
he said unto the people, Be ready against the third day: come
not at your wives.
16 f And it came to pass on the third day in the morning, that there were thunders and lightnings, and a thick cloud upon the mount, and the voice of the trumpet exceeding loud; so that all the people that was in the
camp
17
trembled.
And Moses brought forth the people out of the camp to meet with God; and they stood at the nether part of the mount. 18 And mount Sinai was altogether on a smoke, because the LORD descended upon it in fire and the smoke thereof ascended as the smoke of a furnace, and the whole mount quaked greatly. 19 And when the voice of the trumpet sounded long, and waxed louder and louder, Moses spake, and God answered him by a voice. 20 And the LORD came down upon mount Sinai, on the top of the mount: and the LORD called Moses up to the top of the mount; and Moses went up. 21 And the LORD said unto Moses, Go down, charge the people, lest they break through unto the LORD to gaze, and many of them perish.
:
128
The Ten Commandments 22 And

let the priests also,
129
which come near to the

forth
LORD,
sanctify
upon them. 23 And Moses said unto the LORD, The people cannot come up to mount Sinai: for thou chargedst us, saying. Set bounds about the mount,
themselves, lest the
LORD break
and sanctify it. 24 And the
LORD
said unto him,
Away,
but
let
get thee
down, and thou
shalt
come
up, thou, and
break through to
the LORD, lest he break forth upon them. 25 So Moses went down unto the people, and spake unto them.
Aaron with come up unto
thee
not the priests and the people
Chapter 20
And God
2
spake
all
these words, saying,
I flm the
LORD
thy God, which have brought thee out of the land
of Egypt, out of the house of bondage. 3 Thou shalt have no other gods before me. 4 Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image, or any likeness oj any thing that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is
in the water
under the earth:
Thou
thy
shalt not
bow down
thyself to them, nor serve them: for I the
LORD
6
God am
a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers
the children unto the third and fourth generation of
them
And
shewing mercy unto thousands of them that
upon me; love me, and keep

that hate
in vain; for the
my commandments.
7 Thou shalt not take the name of the
LORD
thy
God
LORD
wUl not hold him guUtless that taketh his name 8 Remember the sabbath day, to keep it holy. 9 Six days shalt thou labour, and do all thy work:
in vain.
shalt not
10 But the seventh day is the sabbath of the LORD thy God; in it thou do any work, thou, nor thy son, nor thy daughter, thy manservant,
cattle,
nor thy maidservant, nor thy

1
nor thy stranger that
is
within thy gates:
and rested the seventh day: wherefore the LORD blessed the sabbath day, and hallowed it. 12 f Honour thy father and thy mother: that thy days may be long upon the land which the LORD thy God giveth thee.
that
is,
For in in them
six
days the
LORD
made heaven and
earth, the sea,
and
all
13
Thou
shalt not
kill.
14 Thou shalt not commit adultery.

15
Thou Thou 17 Thou

16
shalt not steal.

shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbour. shalt not covet thy neighbour's house,
thou shalt not covet thy
neighbour's wife, nor his manservant, nor his maidservant, nor his ox, nor
nor any thing that is thy neighbour's. And all the people saw the thunderings, and the lightnings, and the noise of the trumpet, and the mountain smoking: and when the people saw it, they removed, and stood afar off.
his ass,
18 f
130
19
And they said unto Moses, Speak thou with us, and we will hear: but let not God speak with us, lest we die. 20 And Moses said unto the people, Fear not: for God is come to prove
you, and that his fear
may be
before your faces, that ye sin not.

ofiE,
21
And
the people stood afar
and Moses drew near unto the thick
darkness where
God
was.
The Sermon on the Mount

MATTHEW
Chapter 5
And
was
2
seeing the multitudes, he went up into a mountain: and
when he
set, his disciples
came unto him:

his
And
he opened
mouth, and taught them, saying,
is the kingdom of heaven. 4 Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be coniforted. 5 Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth. 6 Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness: for
3 Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs
they shall be
filled.
:
7 Blessed are the merciful for they shall obtain mercy. 8 Blessed are the pure in heart: for they shall see God.
9 Blessed are the peacemakers: for they
shall
be called the children of
God.
theirs is the
10 Blessed are they which are persecuted for righteousness' sake: for kingdom of heaven.
11 Blessed are ye,
when men
shall revile you,
and persecute you, and
shall say all
manner of
evil against
you
falsely, for
my
sake.
12 Rejoice, and be exceeding glad: for great is your reward in heaven: for so persecuted they the prophets which were before you. 13 t Ye are the salt of the earth: but if the salt have lost his savour, wherewith shall it be salted? it is thenceforth good for nothing, but to be cast
out,
and
to
be trodden under foot of men.
14
hid.
Ye
are the light of the world.
city that is set
on an
hill
cannot be
men light a candle, and put it under a bushel, but on a and it giveth light unto all that are in the house. 16 Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.
15 Neither do
candlestick;
The Sermon on
the
Mount
131
I
am
17 t Think not that I am come to destroy the law, or the prophets: not come to destroy, but to fulfil.
18 For verily
in
tittle shall
I say unto you, Till heaven and earth pass, one jot or one no wise pass from the law, till all be fulfilled. 19 Whosoever therefore shall break one of these least commandments, and shall teach men so, he shall be called the least in the kingdom of heaven: but whosoever shall do and teach them, the same shall be called great in the kingdom of heaven. 20 For I say unto you. That except your righteousness shall exceed the righteousness of the scribes and Pharisees, ye shall in no case enter into the kingdom of heaven.
PLATO
hard indeed to show the range of Plato's ethical thought. I have chosen emphasize in what I cite below what one might call his basic "Puritanism" that is, distrust of the "natural appetites" of ordinary men. But this was an ambivalent Puritanism, because Plato had the artist's fascination with
It is
to
what
art
can do
to arouse
emotions close to such appetites.
He would
banish poetry from his Utopian Republic, but he feels he has to apologize
for so radical a step.
DO NOT THINK THAT WE HAVE ADEQUATELY DETERMINED THE NATURE and number of the appetites, and until this is accomplished the inquiry will
Well, he said,
it is
always be confused.
not too late to supply the omission.
Very
ful;
true, I said;
and observe the point which

I
want
to understand:
Certain of the unnecessary pleasures and appetites
conceive to be unlaw-
every one appears to have them, but in some persons they are controlled by the laws and by reason, and the better desires prevail over them either they are wholly banished or they become few and weak; while in the case of others they are stronger, and there are more of them. Which appetites do you mean? I mean those which are awake when the reasoning and human and ruling power is asleep; then the wild beast within us, gorged with meat or drink, starts up and having shaken off sleep, goes forth to satisfy his desires; and there is no conceivable folly or crime not excepting incest or any other
unnatural union, or parricide, or the eating of forbidden food
^which at
sense, a
such a time, when he has parted company with
all
shame and
man may
not be ready to commit.
Most true, he said. But when a man's pulse is healthy and temperate, and when before going to sleep he has awakened his rational powers, and fed them on noble
From Plato, The Republic. Translated by B. Jowett (New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1956), pp. 354-355, 406-413 (The Modern Student's Library).
132

thoughts and inquiries, collecting himself in meditation; after having indulged his appetites neither too
lay
133
first
much nor
too
little,
but just enough to
and prevent them and their enjoyments and pains from which he leaves in the solitude of pure abstraction, free to contemplate and aspire to the knowledge of the unknown, whether in past, present, or future: when again he has allayed I say, when, the passionate element, if he has a quarrel against any one after pacifying the two irrational principles, he rouses up the third, which is reason, before he takes his rest, then, as you know, he attains truth most nearly, and is least likely to be the sport of fantastic and lawless visions.
them
to sleep,
interfering with the higher principle
I quite agree.
have been running into a digression; but the point which that in all of us, even in good men, there is a lawless wild-beast nature, which peers out in sleep.
In saying that note
I I desire to
is
.
And now
away out
since
we have
reverted to the subject of poetry,
let this
our de-
fence serve to show the reasonableness of our former judgement in sending

of our State an art having the tendencies which
we have
described;
for reason constrained us.
But
that she
may
not impute to us any harshness

is
an ancient quarrel between proofs, such as the saying of "the yelping hound howling at her lord," or of one "mighty in the vain talk of fools," and "the mob of sages circumventing Zeus," and the "subtle thinkers who are beggars after all"; and there are innumerable other signs of ancient enmity between them. Notwithstanding this, let us assure our
or want of poUteness,
let
us
tell
her that there
philosophy and poetry; of which there are
many
sweet friend and the

title
sister arts of imitation, that if
she will only prove her

to receive her
to exist in a well-ordered State
we
shall
be delighted
we
are very conscious of her charms; but
we may
not on that account betray
the truth.
I dare say, Glaucon, that you are as much charmed by her as I am, especially when she appears in Homer? Yes, indeed, I am greatly charmed. Shall I propose, then, that she be allowed to return from exile, but upon
this condition
only
that she
makes a defence
of herself in lyrical or
some
other metre?
Certainly.
And we may
further grant to those of her defenders
who
are lovers of
let
poetry and yet not poets the permission to speak in prose on her behalf:
them show not only that she is pleasant but also useful to States and to human life, and we will listen in a kindly spirit; for if this can be proved we shall surely be the gainers I mean, if there is a use in poetry as well
as a dehght?
Certainly, he said,
If
we
shall
be the gainers.
her defence
fails,
then,
my
dear friend, like other persons
who
are
enamoured of something, but put a restraint upon themselves when they think their desires are opposed to their interests, so too must we after the
134
PLATO
manner of lovers give her up, though not without a struggle. We too are inspired by that love of poetry which the education of noble States has implanted in us, and therefore we would have her appear at her best and truest; but so long as she is unable to make good her defence, this argument of ours shall be a charm to us, which we will repeat to ourselves while we listen to her strains; that we may not fall away into the childish love of her which captivates the many. At all events we are well aware that poetry being such
we have described is not to be regarded seriously as attaining to the truth; and he who listens to her, fearing for the safety of the city which is within him, should be on his guard against her seductions and make our words his
as
law.
Yes, he said, I quite agree with you.

is the issue at stake, greater than be good or bad. And what will any one be profited if under the influence of honour or money or power, aye, or under the excitement of poetry, he neglect justice and virtue? Yes, he said; I have been convinced by the argument, as I believe that any one else would have been. And yet no mention has been made of the greatest prizes and rewards which await virtue. What, are there any greater stUl? If there are, they must be of an in-
Yes,
I said,
my
dear Glaucon, for great
appears, whether a
man
is
to
conceivable greatness.
Why,
eternity?
I said,
what was ever great

is
in a short time?
little
The whole period
of
threescore years and ten
surely but a
thing in comparison with
Say rather "nothing," he replied. should an immortal being seriously think of than of the whole? Of the whole, certainly. But why do you ask?
And
this little
space rather
Are you not aware,

perishable?
I said, that the soul of
man
is
immortal and im-
He
looked at
I
me in
astonishment, and said: No, by heaven:
And
are
you
it.
really prepared to maintain this?
Yes, I said,
I see
ought to be, and you too

difficulty;
^there is
no
difficulty in
proving
a great
but
should like to hear you state this argument
of which you
make
so light.
Listen then.
I
am
attending.
There is a thing which you call good and another which you call evil? Yes, he replied. Would you agree with me in thinking that the corrupting and destroying element is the evU, and the saving and improving element the good?
Yes.
And you admit that every thing has

is
a good and also an evil; as ophthalmia

is
the evil of the eyes and disease of the whole body; as mildew
of
com,

and
rot of timber, or rust of
is
135
everything, there
copper and iron: in everything, or in almost an inherent evil and disease?

is
Yes, he said.
And
True.
anything which
infected
by any of these
evils is
made
evil,
and
at last wholly dissolves
and dies?
is
The
if this
vice
and
evil
which
inherent in each
is
is
the destruction of each; and

will; for
does not destroy them there
nothing else that

is
tainly will not destroy them,
nor again, that which
neither
good good nor
cerevil.
Certainly not.
then, we find any nature which having this inherent corruption cannot be dissolved or destroyed, we may be certain that of such a nature there is no destruction? That may be assumed. Well, I said, and is there no evil which corrupts the soul? Yes, he said, there are aU the evils which we were just now passing in
If,
review: unrighteousness, intemperance, cowardice, ignorance.
But does any of these dissolve or destroy her? and there do not let fall into the error of supposing that the unjust and foolish man, when he is detected, perishes through his own injustice, which is an evil of the soul. Take the analogy of the body: The evU of the body is a disease which wastes and reduces and annihilates the body; and all the things of which we were just now speaking come to annihilation through their own corruption attaching to them and inhering in them and so destroying them. Is not
us
this true?
Yes.
Consider the soul in

exists in the soul
like
manner. Does the
injustice or other evil
which
waste and consume her? do they by attaching to the soul
and inhering body?
in her at last bring her to death,
and so separate her from the
Certainly not.
And
yet, I said,
it is
unreasonable to suppose that anything can perish

evil
from without through affection of external from within by a corruption of its own?
It is,
which could not be destroyed
he replied.
Consider, I said, Glaucon, that even the badness of food, whether staleness, decomposition, or
any other bad
quality,
when
confined to the actual

if
food,
the badness of food communicates corruption to the body, then we should say that the body has been destroyed by a corruption of itself, which is disease, brought on by this; but that the body, being one thing, can be destroyed by the badness of food, which is another, and which does not engender any natural infection this we shall absolutely deny? Very true. And, on the same principle, unless some bodily evil can produce an evil
is
not supposed to destroy the body; although,
136
of the soul,
PLATO
we must not suppose

is
that the soul,
which
is
one
thing,
can be
dissolved by any merely external evil which belongs to another?
Yes, he said, there
reason in that.
it
Either, then, let us refute this conclusion, or, while

let
remains unrefuted,
us never say that fever, or any other disease, or the knife put to the
even the cutting up of the whole body into the minutest pieces, can destroy the soul, until she herself is proved to become more unholy or unrighteous in consequence of these things being done to the body; but that the soul, or anything else if not destroyed by an internal evil, can be destroyed by an external one, is not to be affirmed by any man. And surely, he replied, no one will ever prove that the souls of men become more unjust in consequence of death. But if some one who would rather not admit the immortality of the soul boldly denies this, and says that the dying do really become more evil and unrighteous, then, if the speaker is right, I suppose that injustice, like disease, must be assumed to be fatal to the unjust, and that those who take this disorder die by the natural inherent power of destruction which evil has, and which kUls them sooner or later, but in quite another way from that in
throat, or
which, at present, the wicked receive death at the hands of others as the
penalty of their deeds?
Nay, he
said, in that case injustice,
if
fatal to the unjust, will

evil.
not be so
very terrible to him, for he will be delivered from
But
rather suspect
the opposite to be the truth, and that injustice which, if it have the power, wiU murder others, keeps the murderer alive aye, and well awake too; so far removed is her dwelling-place from being a house of death.
True,
I said; if
the inherent natural vice or evil of the soul

is
is
unable to
kill
or destroy her, hardly will that which
appointed to be the destruction of

else except that of
some other body, destroy a soul or anything

appointed to be the destruction. Yes, that can hardly be.
external,
which
it
was
But the soul which cannot be destroyed by an evU, whether inherent or must exist for ever, and if existing for ever, must be immortal?
Certainly.
That is the conclusion, I said; and, if a true conclusion, then the souls must always be the same, for if none be destroyed they wiU not diminish in number. Neither will they increase, for the increase of the immortal natures must come from something mortal, and all things would thus end in immortality.
Very true. But this we cannot
believe
reason
now
will
not allow us
any more than
we can
believe the soul, in her truest nature, to be full of variety and differ-
ence and dissimilarity.
What do you mean? he The soul, I said, being,
said.
as
is
proven, immortal, must be the fairest

of
of compositions and cannot be
compounded
many
elements?

Certainly not.
137
demonstrated by the previous argument, and there are is, not as we now behold her, marred by communion with the body and other miseries, you must contemplate her with the eye of reason, in her original purity; and then her beauty will be revealed, and justice and injustice and all the things which
is
Her immortality
many
other proofs; but to see her as she really
described will be manifested more clearly. Thus far, we have spoken the truth concerning her as she appears at present, but we must remember also that we have seen her only in a condition which may be compared to that of the sea-god Glaucus, whose original image can hardly be discerned because his natural members are broken off and crushed and damaged by the waves in all sorts of ways, and incrustations have grown over them of seaweed and shells and stones, so that he is more like some monster than he is to his own natural form. And the soul which we behold is in a similar condition disfigured by ten thousand iUs. But not there,
we have
Glaucon, not there must
we look. Where then? At her love of wisdom. Let us see whom she
and divine;
also
affects,
and what society and
converse she seeks in virtue of her near kindred with the immortal and
how different she would become if wholly following and borne by a divine impulse out of the ocean in which she now is, and disengaged from the stones and shells and things of earth and rock which in wild variety spring up around her because she feeds upon earth, and is overgrown by the good things of this life as they are termed: then you would see her as she is, and know whether she have one shape only or many, or what her nature is. Of her affections and of the forms which she takes in this present life I think that we have now said
eternal
this superior principle,
enough.
ARISTOTLE
Classification
of Virtues
Aristotle, this time in a very summary form indeed. But this from an English Aristotelian scholar of the last century does present clearly the central ethical concept of Aristotle (and of the Greek,
Here again
is
brief passage
or at least Athenian, gentleman). This
is
the celebrated doctrine of the
Golden Mean.
It
has been attacked by logicians,
who
insist that
rashness
cannot be "excess" of courage, nor cowardice "too little" of courage this is not in fact a relation in any kind of continuum. Yet the doctrine has proved extremely attractive to Western common sense, and has by no means
been refected
in ordinary Christian practice; nor, indeed, is
it
rejected in
Christian ethical theory, especially after the "reception" of Aristotle in the
medieval West. Duns Scotus, by no means a middle-of-the-roader, could write: "For no vice is found but is the shadow of some virtue. Pride is only
the perversion of a true sense of power."
CLASSIFICATION OF VIRTUES TO ILLUSTRATE THE
LAW OF
THE MEAN.
We may now
proceed to show
how
the principle of proportion applies
under different circumstances and conditions of the moral life how virtue is the avoidance of all extravagance and inconsistency of life, and how the vices are the perversions of what is "fitting" both in feeling and in conduct. We may use the Diagram of the Virtues and Vices for the purpose of our
illustration.
From Walter M. Hatch, Murray, 1879), pp. 70-71.

138
ed.,
The Moral Philosophy of
Aristotle (London:
John
Classification of Virtues
139
Self-Regarding Virtues.
Excess
(A)
i.
Mean.
Defect.
In questions of pleas- "11. Avoidance of pain. ure and pain / (a) In confidence (ft) In fear 2. Pursuit of
pleasure.
Rashness Cowardice
Sensualism
Courage Courage Temperance
Cowardice. Rashness.
. . .
Asceticism.
ii.
_ .. In giving and receiv-\ , ., ]^- Ordinarily. ini of money (a) In giving (ft) In receiving .. ,, 2. In great wealth ...
,
Prodigality
Meanness
f {
Liberality Liberality
. .
.
Meanness.
Prodigality.
^.
Ostentation and"!,. ._ ^^^^ ^j j^^jg | Magnificence

,,
Stmgmess.
iii.
In seeking honour
1.
In great honour
..
.
Vam-glory
* , Magnanimity
[
-Littleness of .f ^^^^
'^
2.
In small honour
Ambition
Unambition.
(B) Virtues Relating

i.
to Society.
.
In regulation of temper
Passionateness
.Good temper
t-
f <
ListlesSness.
xndifference
t-li Dissimulation.
ii.
In intercourse of
pjgj
so-"l 1.
>
Regarding
^
,^j^j^
1
>
Boastfulness
...
Truthfulness
i.r
2.
Regarding
agreeableness. (a) In recreation ...Buffoonery
(ft)
Politeness
! '
Boorishness.
In business
(sy'SScy'
".}
^^^*^'P
.... Churlishness.
(C) Semi-Virtues.
i.
In
the
emotions
ofl
\
shame
ii.
T-...irjjin-j.. Dumbfounded ..Modest

_
Envious
.
cu_i Shameless.
\ c:*<.fi jSpiteful.
In contemplating thel fortunes of others .. /
Righteously
indignant.
PRACTICAL CONSIDERATIONS FOR DETERMINING THE MEAN.

i.
In comparing the various states of "excess" and "defect" with their

ideal,
proper
other.
we note
that they are aU mutually
opposed the one to the
But the following points may be noted

opposition which are found
1.
in reference to the degrees ol
among them:
them
call
The "mean" man
in steering his course clear of all extremes, pleases
neither of the extremes: each of
him by
the
name
of the other.
The temperate man,

ist,
for instance,
seems an ascetic in the eyes of the sensual-
and a
sensualist in the eyes of the ascetic.
are wider apart from one another than either from Between the mean and either of the extremes there is a kind of affinity and some elements in common, but the extremes are utterly dissimilar and at variance with one another. 3. The mean is more opposed to one extreme than to the other. There
2.
The extremes
the mean.
is
a twofold reason
is
why
this
should be so: (a) In the nature of the case
there
a greater correspondence between one extreme and the mean, than
between the other
the natural affinities being greater. (/3)
From our own
140
susceptibilities
:
ARISTOTLE
we
are
more prone
to
one thing than

are the
to another;
and that
extreme
is
the worst towards which
we
more
easily led.
Virtue
enough to show what is implied in the dictum that it is an ideal standard by which all conduct and all feeUng might be made to assume the noblest conceivable form. But in delineating this perfect conception of our actual life we have imii.
We have now
is
said
a "mean state":
plied that
it is
difficult task to realize
it.
The beauty
of
life is
so easily
marred: the estimate of times and means which give the exact turn to action,
is
so easily mistaken, that
it is
difficult
indeed to be virtuous after

rules
this ideal
pattern.
We
1.
may, however, suggest a few simple
which may serve for our

to the other
guidance in the effort to attain to the perfect "fitness" of virtue.
Avoid the worst extreme: Avoid your besetting
though you should rebound
extreme, choose the least of

2.
evils.
sin:
set yourself resolutely against that
form
of evil to which your

3.
own
tendencies incline you most easily.

all
Avoid pleasure above
things:
it
pleasure can afford, but dismiss
admire and praise the charms which from your aims as the Greek counsellors
voted to dismiss Helen.

rules are for the
Still
most part
futile:
no system of
casuistry can antici-
pate the infinite complications of circumstance.
The
varied shapes and
combinations of circumstance must be judged separately, as each new phase

arises.
The only
sure index
is
the
it
educate that Moral Sense until

science,
cipline
Moral Sense of the agent. [To train and becomes an unerring instinct, or Con-
is the work of life, and requires very favourable conditions of disand experience.] The Moral Sense must take an instantaneous survey of what has to be done under the conditions of the moment, and its judgment, when fully educated, will be infallibly right.
EPICTETUS
The Practice of Stoicism
losopher and teacher.
100 A.D.) was a Greek slave who became a famous phiHe was a Stoic, a follower of a philosophy of life which served the ruling classes of the imperial Graeco-Roman world as a religion of high-minded duty. Stoicism put the gods quite as far from men as did the Epicureanism of Lucretius. It came close, as indeed did Aristotle himself in his doctrine of theoria, to setting up an ideal of complete detachment from the world of the flesh, an almost Buddhist nirvana. This is the
Epictetus (about
Stoic doctrine of ataraxia, impassiveness (reflected characteristically in our
contemporary culture by one of the new tranquillizers, marketed as Atarax). But in practice Stoicism was no more than another form of the eternal Western Puritanism, disciplining but not wholly denying the flesh, and in Epicby no means without a wry and practical sense of humor. We tetus at least do not have Epictetus' own works, but instead a very full account of his teachings by a pupil, Arrian. In his main work, Arrian goes into lively and \concrete detail; but he made a less lively summary of the master's work,
known
as the
Handbook
(Encheiridion) which,
I
if
not quite so interesting,
is
a very good survey, from which
quote at some length.
in our power. In our
OF ALL EXISTING THINGS SOME ARE IN OUR POWER, AND OTHERS ARE NOT power are thought, impulse, will to get and will to avoid, and, in a word, everything which is our own doing. Things not in our power include the body, property, reputation, office, and, in a word, everything which is not our own doing. Things in our power are by nature free, unhindered, untrammelled; things not in our power are weak, servile, subject to hindrance, dependent on others. Remember then that if you imagine that what is naturally slavish is free, and what is naturally another's is your own, you will be hampered, you will mourn, you will be put to confusion, you will blame gods and men; but if you think that only your own belongs
From
Epictetus,
Notes by P. E. Matheson, Vol.

219, 234.
The Discourses and Manual. Translated with Introduction and U (Oxford: The Clarendon Press, 1916), pp. 213141
142
to you,
EPICTETUS
and that what is another's is indeed another's, no one will ever put compulsion or hindrance on you, you will blame none, you will accuse
none, you will do nothing against your will, no one will harm you, you will have no enemy, for no harm can touch you. Aiming then at these high matters, you must remember that to attain them requires more than ordinary effort; you will have to give up some things entirely, and put off others for the moment. And if you would have these also office and wealth it may be that you will faU to get them, just because your desire is set on the former, and you wiU certainly faU to attain those things which alone bring freedom and happiness. Make it your study then to confront every harsh impression with the words, "You are but an impression, and not at all what you seem to be." Then test it by those rules that you possess; and first by this the chief "Is it concerned with what is in our power or with what is not test of all in our power?" And if it is concerned with what is not in our power, be ready with the answer that it is nothing to you.
what you will, and from what you avoid; and he who fails to get what he wills is unfortunate, and he who does not escape what he wills to avoid is miserable. If then you try to avoid only what is uimatural in the region within your control, you will escape from aU that you avoid; but if you try to avoid disease or death or poverty you wiU be miserable. Therefore let your wiU to avoid have no concern with what is not in man's power; direct it only to things in man's power that are contrary to nature. But for the moment you must utterly remove the will to get; for if you will to get something not in man's power you are bound to be unfortunate; while none of the things in man's power that you could honourably wiU to get is yet within your reach. Impulse to act and not to act, these are your concern; yet exercise them gently and without strain, and provisionally. When anything, from the meanest thing upwards, is attractive or serviceable or an object of affection, remember always to say to yourself, "What is its nature?" If you are fond of a jug, say you are fond of a jug; then you will not be disturbed if it be broken. If you kiss your child or your wife, say to yourself that you are kissing a human being, for then if death strikes it you will not be disturbed.
that the will to get promises attainment of
Remember
the will to avoid promises escape
When you
are about to take something in hand, remind yourself
what
manner of thing it is. If you are going to bathe put before your mind what happens in the bath water pouring over some, others being jostled, some reviling, others stealing; and you will set to work more securely if you say to yourseff at once: "I want to bathe, and I want to keep my will in harmony with nature," and so in each thing you do; for in this way, if anything turns up to hinder you in your bathing, you will be ready to say, "I did not want only to bathe, but to keep my will in harmony with
nature,
and
I shall
not so keep
it,
if I
lose
my
temper
at
what happens,"
The
For
it
Practice of Stoicism
disturbs men's
is
143
is
What
so.
minds
not events but their judgements on events.
instance, death
nothing dreadful, or else Socrates would have thought

it
No, the only dreadful thing about
is
men's judgement that

is
it
is
dreadful.
And
so
when we
are hindered, or disturbed, or distressed, let us
never lay the blame on others, but on ourselves, that

ments.
To
accuse others for one's
own
misfortunes
is
on our own judgea sign of want of

is
education; to accuse oneself shows that one's education has begun; to
accuse neither oneself nor others shows that one's education
complete.
is not your own. If the horse in handsome," we could bear with it. But when you say with pride, "I have a handsome horse," know that the good horse is the ground of your pride. You ask then what you can call your own. The answer is the way you deal with your impressions. Therefore when you deal with your impressions in accord with nature, then you may be proud indeed, for your pride will be in a good which is your own.
Be not
elated at an excellence which

say, "I
his pride
were to
am
When you are on a voyage, and your ship is at anchorage, and you disembark to get fresh water, you may pick up a small shellfish or a truffle by the way, but you must keep your attention fixed on the ship, and keep looking towards it constantly, to see if the Helmsman calls you; and if he does, you have to leave everything, or be bundled on board with your legs tied like a sheep. So it is in life. If you have a dear wife or child
given you, they are like the shellfish or the
their
else,
truffle,
they are very well in
way. Only,
if
the
Helmsman
call,
the ship, so that
and do not look behind you. And when you are called you may not
not that events should happen as you
will,
run back to your ship, leave all if you are old, never go far from
fail to
appear.
Ask
events should happen as they do, and
you
shall
but let your have peace.
will
be that
Sickness
consent.
is
a hindrance to the body, but not to the will, unless the will
is
Lameness
a hindrance to the leg, but not to the
will.
to yourself at each event that happens, for
you
shall find that
Say this though it
hinders something else
it
will not hinder you.
When
beautiful
if
anything happens to you, always remember to turn to yourself and

it.
ask what faculty you have to deal with
If
you see
a beautiful
boy or a
woman, you
is
will find continence the faculty to exercise there;
trouble
laid
if
patience.
And
on you, you will find endurance; if ribaldry, you will find you train yourself in this habit your impressions wiU not
carry you away.
Never say of anything, "I lost it," but say, "I gave it back." Has your was given back. Has your wife died? She was given back. Has your estate been taken from you? Was not this also given back? But you
child died? It
144
say,
EPICTETUS
"He who took
it
from
me
is
it
wicked."
What does
it
matter to you
it
through
care of
whom
the Giver asked
back? As long as
it
He
gives
you, take
. . .
it,
but not as your own; treat
as passers-by treat
an
inn.
that you must behave in Mfe as you would at a banquet. A handed round and comes to you; put out your hand and take it poHtely. It passes you; do not stop it. It has not reached you; do not be impatient to get it, but wait till your turn comes. Bear yourself thus towards children, wife, office, wealth, and one day you wUl be worthy to banquet with the gods. But if when they are set before you, you do not take them but despise them, then you shall not only share the gods' banquet, but shall share their rule. For by so doing Diogenes and HeracUtus and men like them were caUed divine and deserved the name.
Remember
is
dish
When you
see a
man
is
shedding tears in sorrow for a child abroad or

Uls that
is
dead, or for loss of property, beware that you are not carried away by the
impression that
another,
it
outward
make him
miserable.
Keep
this
thought by you: "What distresses him

distress
not the event, for that does not
but his judgement on the event." Therefore do not
hesitate to sympathize with
him so far as words go, and if it so chance, even to groan with him; but take heed that you do not also groan in your
inner being.
that you are an actor in a play, and the Playwright chooses manner of it: if he wants it short, it is short; if long, it is long. If he wants you to act a poor man you must act the part with all your powers; and so if your part be a cripple or a magistrate or a plain man. For your business is to act the character that is given you and act it well; the choice
Remember
the
of the cast
is
Another's.
On no
principles
at
occasion call yourself a philosopher, nor talk at large of your
among
the multitude, but act
on your
principles.
a banquet do not say

that Socrates
how one ought
to eat, but eat as
For instance, you ought.

thought of
Remember
display that
had so completely got
rid of the
when men came and wanted an
introduction to philosophers
he took them to be introduced; so patient of neglect was he. And if a discussion arise among the multitude on some principle, keep silent for the most part; for you are in great danger of blurting out some undigested thought. And when some one says to you, "You know nothing," and you do not let it provoke you, then know that you are really on the right road. For sheep do not bring grass to their shepherds and show them how much they have eaten, but they digest their fodder and then produce it in the form of wool and milk. Do the same yourself; instead of displaying your principles to the multitude, show them the results of the principles you have
digested.
ST.
AUGUSTINE
vs.
Christian
Pagan Ethics
This passage from

its
St.
Augustine's City of
God
is
particularly useful for
and the pagan ethical attitudes as they seem to St. Augustine. The work of Marcus Varro to which he refers is lost. Some commentators might feel that Varro's 288 "sects" is an underesticontrast of the Christian
mate.
1.
That Varro has made out that two hundred and eighty-eight different sects of philosophy might be formed by the various opinions regarding the supreme
good
AS
I
SEE THAT
HAVE STILL TO DISCUSS THE FIT DESTINIES OF THE TWO

first
cities,
the earthly and the heavenly, I must
explain, so far as the limits
by which men have attempted to make for themselves a happiness in this unhappy life, in order that it may be evident, not only from divine authority, but also from such reasons as can be adduced to unbelievers, how the empty dreams of the philosophers differ from the hope which God gives to us, and from the substantial fulfilment of it which He will give us as our blessedness. Philosophers have expressed a great variety of diverse opinions regarding the ends of goods and of evils, and this question they have eagerly canvassed, that they might, if possible, discover what makes a man happy. For the end of our good is that for the sake of which other things are to be desired, while it is to be desired for its own sake; and the end of evU is that on account of which other things are to be shunned, while it is avoided on its own account. Thus, by the end of good, we at present mean, not that by which good is destroyed, so that it no longer exists, but that by which it is finished, so that it becomes complete; and by the end of evil we mean, not that which abolishes it, but that which completes its development. These two ends, therefore, are the supreme good and the supreme evil; and, as I have said, those who have in this vain life
of this
work allow me,
the reasonings
From
The Modern
Saint Augustine, The City of God. Translated by Library, 1950), pp. 669-679.
Marcus Dods (New York:

145
146
professed the study of
ST.
AUGUSTINE
wisdom have been
at great pains to discover these

evil in this
ends, and to obtain the supreme

life.
good and avoid the supreme
And
although they erred in a variety of ways, yet natural insight has
prevented them from wandering from the truth so far that they have not placed the supreme good and evil, some in the soul, some in the body,
and some
in
both.
From
this
tripartite
distribution
of
the
sects
of
philosophy, Marcus Varro, in his
book De Philosophia,^ has drawn so large a variety of opinions, that, by a subtle and minute analysis of distinctions, he numbers without difficulty as many as 288 sects not that
these have actually existed, but sects which are possible.
To
illustrate briefly
what he means,
must begin with
his
own
intro-
above-mentioned book, that there are four things which men desire, as it were by nature without a master, without the help of any instruction, without industry or the art of living which is called virtue, and which is certainly learned i^ either pleasure, which is an agreeable stirring of the bodily sense; or repose, which excludes
every
bodily
ductory statement in the
inconvenience;
or
both these, which Epicurus
calls
the one name, pleasure; or the primary objects of nature,^ which
by com-
prehend the things already named and other things, either bodily, such as health, and safety, and integrity of the members, or spiritual, such as the greater and less mental gifts that are found in men. Now these four things pleasure, repose, the two combined, and the primary objects of nature exist in us in such sort that we must either desire virtue on their account, or them for the sake of virtue, or both for their own sake; and consequently there arise from this distinction twelve sects, for each is by this consideration tripled. I will illustrate this in one instance, and, having done so, it will not be difficult to understand the others. Ac-
cording, then, as bodily pleasure

there are three sects. It
servient to virtue.
is
it is
is
subjected, preferred, or united to virtue,
subjected to virtue
when
it
is
chosen as sub-
Thus
is
a duty of virtue to Uve for one's country, and
for
its
sake to beget children, neither of which can be done without bodily
pleasure.
For there
and virtue
life
pleasure in eating and drinking, pleasure also in
sexual intercourse. But
when
it is
preferred to virtue,
its
it is
desired for
its
own
is
sake,
is
chosen only for
sake,
and
to effect nothing else
than the attainment or preservation of bodily pleasure.

to
And
this,
indeed,
make
hideous; for where virtue
longer deserves the

united to pleasure
for their own.
name
of virtue.
has found some philosophers to
it no Yet even this disgraceful distortion patronize and defend it. Then virtue is
is
the slave of pleasure
when
neither
is
desired for the other's sake, but both

it
And
therefore, as pleasure, according as

also
is
subjected,
preferred, or united to virtue,
makes three sects, so ure and repose combined, and the prime natural
^Not
^
do repose, pleas-
blessings,
make
their
extant.
Alluding to the vexed question whether virtue could be taught.
The prima
natures, or wputra
xara ^v8iv of the
Stoics.
Christian vs.
Pagan Ethics
For
as
147
men's opinions vary, and these four things are sometimes preferred, and sometimes united to virtue, there are produced twelve sects. But this number again is doubled by the addition of one difference, viz. the social life; for whoever attaches himself to any of these sects does so either for his own sake alone, or for the sake of a companion, for whom he ought to wish what he desires for himself. And thus there will be twelve of those who think some one
three sects each.
sometimes
subjected,
of these opinions should be held for their
own
sakes,
and other twelve
who own
decide that they ought to follow this or that philosophy not for their sakes only, but also for the sake of others whose good they desire
own. These twenty-four sects again are doubled, and become by adding a difference taken from the New Academy. For each four and twenty sects can hold and defend their opinion as cerof these tain, as the Stoics defended the position that the supreme good of man consisted solely in virtue; or they can be held as probable, but not certain, as the New Academics did. There are, therefore, twenty-four who hold
as their
forty-eight
their philosophy as certainly true, other twenty-four
as probable, but not certain. Again, as each person
who who
hold their opinions

attaches himself to
any of these sects
may
adopt the
mode
of
life
either of the Cynics or of the
other philosophers, this distinction will double the number, and so

ninety-six sects. Then, lastly, as each of these sects
either
make may be adhered to
who have through choice men who love a busy life, as those who, while philosophizing, have been much occupied with state affairs and public business, or by men who choose a mixed life, in imitation of those who have apportioned their time partly to erudite leisure,
by men who love a
life
of ease, as those
or necessity addicted themselves to study, or by
by these differences the number of the sects is and becomes 288. I have thus, as briefly and lucidly as I could, given in my own words the opinions which Varro expresses in his book. But how he refutes all the rest of these sects, and chooses one, the Old Academy, instituted by Plato, and continuing to Polemo, the fourth teacher of that school of philosophy which held that their system was certain; and how on this ground he distinguishes it from the New Academy,* which began with Polemo's successor Arcesilaus, and held that all things are uncertain; and how he seeks to estabhsh that the Old Academy was as free from error as from doubt all this, I say, were too long to enter upon in detail, and yet I must not altogether pass it by in silence. Varro then rejects, as a first step, all those differences which have multiplied the number of sects; and the ground on which he does so is that they are not differences about the supreme good. He maintains that in philosophy a sect is created only by its having an opinion of its own different from other schools on the point of the ends-in-chief. For man has no other reason for philosophizing than that he may be happy; but that which makes him happy is itself the
partly to necessary business
tripled,
:
Frequently called the Middle Academy; the
New
beginning with Carneades.
148
ST.
AUGUSTINE
supreme good. In other words, the supreme good is the reason for philosophizing; and therefore that cannot be called a sect of philosophy which pursues no way of its own towards the supreme good. Thus, when it is asked whether a wise man will adopt the social life, and desire and be interested in the supreme good of his friend as in his own, or will, on the contrary, do all that he does merely for his own sake, there is no question here about the supreme good, but only about the propriety of associating or not associating a friend in its participation: whether the wise man wiU do this not for his own sake, but for the sake of his friend in whose good he delights as in his own. So, too, when it is asked whether all things about which philosophy is concerned are to be considered uncertain, as by the New Academy, or certain, as the other philosophers maintain, the question here is not what end should be pursued, but whether or
not
that
we
are to believe in the substantial existence of that end; or, to put
it
more
plainly,
whether he
who
pursues the supreme good must maintain

it
it is
a true good, or only that

it
possibly
may be
delusive
is
both pursuing one and
appears to him to be true, though

the
same good. The
distinction, too,
which
founded on the dress and manners of the Cynics,
does not touch the question of the chief good, but only the question whether he who pursues that good which seems to himself true should
do the Cynics. There were, in fact, men who, though they pursued things as the supreme good, some choosing pleasure, others virtue, yet adopted that mode of life which gave the Cynics their name. Thus, whatever it is which distinguishes the Cynics from other philosophers, this has no bearing on the choice and pursuit of that good which constitutes happiness. For if it had any such bearing, then the same habits of life would necessitate the pursuit of the same chief good, and diverse habits would necessitate the pursuit of different ends.
live as
different
2.
How
Varro, by removing all the differences which do not form sects, but are merely secondary questions, reaches three definitions of the chief good, of which we must choose one said of those three kinds of
life,
The same may be

leisure
the
life
of studious
and search after truth, the hfe of easy engagement in affairs, and the life in which both these are mingled. When it is asked, which of these should be adopted, this involves no controversy about the end of good, but inquires which of these three puts a man in the best position for finding and retaining the supreme good. For this good, as soon as a man finds it, makes him happy; but lettered leisure, or public business, or the alternation of these, do not necessarily constitute happiness. Many, in fact, find it possible to adopt one or other of these modes of life, and yet to miss what makes a man happy. The question, therefore, regarding the supreme good and the supreme evil, and which distinguishes sects of philosophy, is one; and these questions concerning the social life, the doubt of the Academy, the dress and food of the Cynics, the three modes of life
Christian vs.
Pagan Ethics
149
mixed these are different quesnone of which the question of the chief good enters. And therefore, as Marcus Varro multipHed the sects to the number 288 (or whatever large number he chose) by introducing these four differences derived from the social life, the New Academy, the Cynics, and the threefold form of life, so, by removing these differences as having no bearing on the supreme good, and as therefore not constituting what can properly be called sects, he returns to those twelve schools which concern themselves with inquiring what that good is which makes man happy, and he shows that one of these is true, the rest false. In other words, he dismisses the distinction founded on the threefold mode of life, and so decreases the whole number by two-thirds, reducing the sects to ninety-six. Then, putting aside the Cynic pecuUarities, the number decreases by a half, to forty-eight. Taking
the active, the contemplative, and the
tions, into
away next the distinction occasioned by the hesitancy of the New Academy, the number is again halved, and reduced to twenty-four. Treating in a
similar
way
the diversity introduced by the consideration of the social
life,
there are left but twelve, which this difference
had doubled
to twenty-four.
Regarding these twelve, no reason can be assigned why they should not be called sects. For in them the sole inquiry is regarding the supreme good
and the ultimate
evil
that
is
to say, regarding the

is
supreme good, for
this
being found, the opposite evil
thereby found.
Now,
to
make
these
twelve sects, he multiphes by three these four things
pleasure, repose,
pleasure and repose combined, and the primary objects of nature which
Varro
calls primigenia.
to virtue, so that they

virtue's sake;
For as these four things are sometimes subordinated seem to be desired not for their own sake, but for
it,
sometimes preferred to
so that virtue seems to be necessary
not on
its
own
account, but in order to attain these things; sometimes joined
with
we it, so that both they and virtue are desired for their own sakes must multiply the four by three, and thus we get twelve sects. But from pleasure, repose, pleasure and those four things Varro eliminates three repose combined not because he thinks these are not worthy of the
place assigned them, but because they are included in the primary objects
of nature.
And what
need
is
there, at
any
rate, to
make a
threefold divifirst
sion out of these two ends, pleasure and repose, taking
them
severally
and then conjunctly, since both they, and
many
other things besides, are
comprehended
maining
sects
in the
primary objects of nature? Which of the three re-
must be chosen? This is the question that Varro dwells upon. For whether one of these three or some other be chosen, reason forbids that more than one be true. This we shall afterwards see; but meanwhile let us explain as briefly and distinctly as we can how Varro makes his selection from these three, that is, from the sects which severally hold that the primary objects of nature are to be desired for virtue's sake, that virtue is to be desired for their sake, and that virtue and these objects are
to
be desired each for
their
own
sake.
150
3.
ST.
AUGUSTINE
pre-
Which of
the three leading opinions regarding the chief
good should be
ferred, according to Varro,
who
follows Antiochus and the Old
Academy
Which
of these three
is
true
it is
and
to
be adopted he attempts to show
in the following
manner. As
the supreme good, not of a tree, or of a
that philosophy is in quest of, he thinks man. He is of opinion that there are two parts in human nature, body and soul, and makes no doubt that of these two the soul is the better and by far the more worthy part. But whether the soul alone is the man, so that the body holds the same relation to it as a horse to the horseman, this he thinks has to be ascertained. The horseman is not a horse and a man, but only a man, yet he is called a horseman, because he is in some relation to the horse. Again, is the body alone the man, having a relation to the soul such as the cup has to the drink? For it is not the cup and the drink it contains which are called the cup, but the cup alone; yet it is so called because it is made to hold the drink. Or, lastly, is it neither the soul alone nor the body alone, but both together, which are man, the body and the soul being each a part, but the whole man being both together, as we call two horses yoked together a pair, of which pair the near and the off horse is each a part, but we do not call either of them, no matter how connected with the other, a pair, but only both together? Of these three alternatives, then, Varro chooses the third, that man is neither the body alone, nor the soul alone, but both together. And therefore the highest good, in which lies the happiness of man, is composed of goods of both kinds, both bodily and spiritual. And consequently he thinks that the primary objects of nature are to be sought for their own sake, and that virtue, which is the art of living, and can be communicated by instruction, is the most excellent of spiritual goods.
beast, or of a god, but of
that, first of all,
man,
we must
define
This virtue, then, or art of regulating Ufe,
when
it
has received these pri-
mary
it, and prior to any instruction, seeks them all, and itself also, for its own sake; and it uses them, as it also uses itself, that from them all it may derive profit and enjoyment, greater or less, according as they are themselves greater or less; and while it takes pleasure in all of them, it despises the less that it may obtain or retain the greater when occasion demands. Now, of all goods, spiritual or bodily, there is none at all to compare with virtue. For virtue makes a good use both of itself and of all other goods in which lies man's happiness; and where it is absent, no matter how many good things a man has, they are not for his good, and consequently should not be called good things while they belong to one who makes them useless by using them badly. The life of man, then, is called happy when it enjoys virtue and these other spiritual and bodily good things without which
objects of nature which existed independently of
virtue
is impossible. It is called happier if it enjoys some or many other good things which are not essential to virtue; and happiest of all, if it lacks not one of the good things which pertain to the body and the soul. For life is not the same thing as virtue, since not every life, but a wisely
Christian vs.
Pagan Ethics
is
151
yet,
regulated
life,
virtue;
and
while there can be
life
of
some kind
without virtue, there cannot be virtue without life. This I might apply to memory and reason, and such mental faculties; for these exist prior to
instruction,
quently no virtue, since virtue

virtue essential to them,
and without them there cannot be any mstruction, and conseis learned. But bodily advantages, such as
and yet they are good things; and, according by virtue for its
swiftness of foot, beauty, or strength, are not essential to virtue, neither

is
to our philosophers, even these advantages are desired
and are used and enjoyed by it in a becoming manner. They say that this happy life is also social, and loves the advantages of its friends as its own, and for their sake wishes for them what it desires for itself, whether these friends live in the same family, as a wife, children, domestics; or in the locality where one's home is, as the citizens of the
own
sake,
same town; or
in the
world
at large, as the nations

itself,
brotherhood; or in the universe

the earth, as those
wise man, and

that,
whom they whom we more
call
bound in common human comprehended in the heavens and gods, and provide as friends for the
Moreover, they say
evil,
familiarly call angels.
no room for doubt, and that they therefore differ from the New Academy in this respect, and they are not concerned whether a philosopher pursues those ends which they think true in the Cynic dress and manner of life or in some other. And, lastly, in regard to the three modes of life, the contemplative, the active, and the composite, they declare in favour of the third. That these were the opinions and doctrines of the Old Academy, Varro asserts on the authority of Antiochus, Cicero's master and his own, though Cicero makes
regarding the supreme good and
there
is
hun out
to
have been more frequently in accordance with the Stoics than
with the Old Academy. But of what importance is this to us, who ought to judge the matter on its own merits, rather than to understand accurately
what
4.
different
men have
thought about
it?
What
the Christians believe regarding the
tion to the philosophers,
who have maintained

in themselves
supreme good and evil, in opposithat the supreme good is

has to say upon these points,
If,
then,
we be asked what
the city of
God
and, in the first place, what its opinion regarding the supreme good and evil is, it will reply that life eternal is the supreme good, death eternal the
one and escape the other we must just hves by faith,"^ for we do not as yet see our good, and must therefore live by faith; neither have we in ourselves power to live rightly, but can do so only if He who has given us faith to believe in His help do help us when we believe and pray. As for those who have supposed that the sovereign good and evil are to be found in this life, and have placed it either in the soul or the body, or in
supreme
evil,
and that
thus
to obtain the
is
live rightly.
And
it
written,
"The
both, or, to speak
more
explicitly, either in pleasure
or in virtue, or in
Hab.
ii.
4.
152
ST.
AUGUSTINE
both; in repose or in virtue, or in both; in pleasure and repose, or in virtue,
or in
both
all
all
combined; in the primary objects of nature, or in

life
virtue, or in
these have, with a marvellous shallowness, sought to find their
blessedness in this
and
in themselves.
Contempt has been poured upon
such ideas by the Truth, saying by the prophet, "The Lord knoweth the thoughts of men" (or, as the Apostle Paul cites the passage, "The Lord
knoweth the thoughts of the wise") "that they are vain."^ For what flood of eloquence can suffice to detail the miseries of this life? Cicero, in the Consolation on the death of his daughter, has spent all his ability in lamentation; but how inadequate was even his ability here? For when, where, how, in this life can these primary objects of nature be possessed so that they may not be assailed by unforeseen accident? Is the body of the wise man exempt from any pain which may dispel pleasure, from any disquietude which may banish repose? The amputation or decay of the members of the body puts an end to its Lotegrity, deformity blights
its
beauty, weakness
its
its
ness
activity
and which
health, lassitude
its
vigour, sleepiness or sluggish-
of these
is it
that
may
not assail the flesh of
man? Comely and fitting attitudes and movements of the body are numbered among the prime natural blessings; but what if some sickness makes the members tremble? what if a man suffers from curvature of
the wise
the spine to such an extent that his hands reach the ground,
upon
all
fours like a quadruped?
Does not
this destroy all
and he goes beauty and
grace in the body, whether at rest or in motion? What shall I say of the fundamental blessings of the soul, sense and intellect, of which the one is given for the perception, and the other for the comprehension of truth?
But what kind of sense
is it
that remains
when
blind? where are reason and intellect
when
disease
man becomes deaf and makes a man dehrious?

when we
think of or
We
can scarcely, or not
at all, refrain
from
tears,
see the actions and words of such frantic persons, and consider
ferent
how
dif-
from and even opposed to their own sober judgment and ordinary conduct their present demeanour is. And what shall I say of those who suffer from demoniacal possession? Where is their own intelligence hiddden and buried while the malignant spirit is using their body and soul according to his own wUl? And who is quite sure that no such thing can happen to the wise man in this life? Then, as to the perception of truth, what can we hope for even in this way while in the body, as we read in the true book of Wisdom, "The corruptible body weigheth down the soul, and the earthly tabernacle presseth down the mind that museth upon many things?"'^ And eagerness, or desire of action, if this is the right meaning to put upon the Greek 6pixi], is also reckoned among the primary advantages of nature; and yet is it not this which produces those pitiable movements of the insane, and those actions which we shudder to see, when sense is deceived and reason deranged?
*Ps. xciv. 11, and
1
Cor.
iii.
20.
^Wisdom
ix. 15.
Christian vs.
Pagan Ethics
which
is
153
not
In
ture,
fine, virtue itself,
among
the primary objects of na-
but succeeds to them as the result of learning, though it holds the highest place among human good things, what is its occupation save to
wage perpetual war with
vices
not
is waged especially by that virtue which the Greeks call amcfpocrvvri, and we temperance,^ and which bridles carnal lusts, and prevents them from winning the consent of the spirit to wicked deeds? For we must not fancy that there is no vice in us, when, as the apostle says, "The flesh lusteth against the spirit";^ for to this vice there is a contrary virtue, when, as the same writer says, "The spirit lusteth against the flesh." "For these two," he says, "are contrary one to the other, so that you cannot do the things which you would." But what is it we wish to do when we seek to attain the supreme good, unless that the flesh should cease to lust against the spirit, and that there be no
within; not other men's, but our
own
a war which
those that are outside of us, but
vice in us against
this in the
which the spirit may lust? And as we cannot attain to life, however ardently we desire it, let us by God's help accomplish at least this, to preserve the soul from succumbing and yielding to the flesh that lusts against it, and to refuse our consent to the perpetration of sin. Far be it from us, then, to fancy that while we are still engaged in this intestine war, we have already found the happiness which we seek to reach by victory. And who is there so wise that he has no conflict at all
present
to maintain against his vices?
which is called prudence? Is not all its good from evil things, so that no mistake may be admitted about what we should desire and what avoid?
shall I say of that virtue
What
vigilance spent in the discernment of
And
thus
it is itself it
a proof that
we
it is
are in the midst of evils, or that evils
to refuse this consent.
consent to sin, and a good which prudence teaches and temperance enables us not to consent, is removed from this life neither by prudence nor by temperance. And justice, whose ofl&ce it is to render to every man his due, whereby there is in man himself a certain just order of nature, so that the soul is subjected to God, and the flesh to the soul, and consequently both soul and flesh to God does not this virtue demonstrate that it is as yet rather labouring towards its end than resting in its finished work? For the soul is so much the less subjected to God as it is less occupied with the thought of God; and the flesh is so much the less subjected to the spirit as it lusts more vehemently against the spirit. So
are in us; for
teaches us that
an
evil to
And
yet this
evil, to
long, therefore, as
we are beset by this weakness, this plague, this disease, how shaU we dare to say that we are safe? and if not safe, then how can we be already enjoying our final beatitude? Then that virtue which goes by the name of fortitude is the plainest proof of the ills of life, for it is these iUs which it is compelled to bear patiently. And this holds good, no matter though the ripest wisdom co-exists with it. And I am at a loss to
Cicero, Tusc. Qucest.

V.
iii.
8.
Gal.
17.
154
understand
ills,
ST.
AUGUSTINE
how
the Stoic philosophers can presume to say that these are no

this life if they
same time they allow the wise man to commit suicide became so grievous that he cannot or ought not to endure them. But such is the stupid pride of these men who fancy that the supreme good can be found in this Ufe, and that they can become happy by their own resources, that their wise man, or at least the man
though
at the
and pass out of
whom
come
they fancifully depict as such,

blind, deaf,
is
always happy, even though he be-
dumb, mutilated, racked with pains, or suffer any conceivable calamity such as may compel him to make away with himself; and they are not ashamed to call the life that is beset with these evils happy. O happy life, which seeks the aid of death to end it! If it is happy, let the wise man remain in it; but if these ills drive him out of it, in what sense is it happy? Or how can they say that these are not evils which
conquer the virtue of fortitude, and force it not only to yield, but so to rave that it in one breath calls life happy and recommends it to be given up? For who is so blind as not to see that if it were happy it would not be fled from? And if they say we should flee from it on account of the infirmities that beset it, why then do they not lower their pride and acknowledge that it is miserable? Was it, I would ask, fortitude or weakness which prompted Cato to kill himself? for he would not have done so had he not been too weak to endure Caesar's victory. Where, then, in his fortitude? It has yielded, it has succumbed, it has been so thoroughly overcome as to abandon, forsake, flee this happy life. Or was it no longer happy? Then it was miserable. How, then, were these not evils which made life miserable, and a thing to be escaped from?
IMMANUEL KANT
It is quite
a leap in time from

ethical thinkers
St.
Augustine to Kant, but I cannot spare
the space for Abelard, or St.

early
modern
Thomas Aquinas, or for such remarkable as Spinoza, who actually wrote an Ethics
is a must any attempt to present a sampling of Western writing on ethics. I shall quote for the reader a much better introduction to Kant's famous "categorical imperative" than any I could devise. Here is Nietzsche commenting in his Beyond Good and Evil:^
Mathematically Demonstrated. Kant (1724-1804), however,

in
everywhere an attempt at present to divert attenwhich Kant exercised on German philosophy, and especially to ignore prudently the value which he set upon himself. Kant was first and foremost proud of his Table of Categories; with it in his hand he said: "This is the most difficult thing that could ever be undertaken on behalf of metaphysics." Let us only understand this "could be"! He was proud of having discovered a new faculty in man, the faculty of synthetic judgment a priori. Granting that he deceived himself in this matter; the development and rapid flourishing of German philosophy depended nevertheless on his pride, and on the eager rivalry of the younger generation to discover if possible something at all events "new faculties" of which to be still prouder! But let us reflect for a moment it is high time to do so. "How are synthetic judgments a priori possible?" Kant asks himself and what is really his answer? By means of a means
It
seems to
me
that there
is
tion
from the
actual influence
(faculty)"but unfortunately not
in five words, but so circumstantially, im-
and with such display of German profundity and verbal flourishes, that one altogether loses sight of the comical niaiserie allemande involved in such an answer. People were beside themselves with delight over this new faculty, and the jubilation reached its climax when Kant further discovered a moral faculty in man for at that time Germans were still moral, not yet dabbling in the "Politics of hard fact." Then came the honeymoon of German philosophy. All the young theologians of the Tiibingen institution went immediately into the groves all seeking for "faculties." And what did they not find in that innocent, rich, and still youthful period of the German spirit, to which Romanticism, the malicious fairy, piped and sang, when one could not yet distinguish between "finding" and "inventing"! Above all a faculty for the "transcendental"; Schelling christened it, intellectual intuition, and thereby
posingly,
Friedrich Nietzsche,
Beyond Good and
Evil. Translated
by Helen
Zimmem (New
155
York: The Macmillan Company, 1924),
S. 11.
156
gratified the
IMMANUEL KANT
most earnest longings of the naturally pious-inclined Germans. One can do no greater wrong to the whole of this exuberant and eccentric movement (which was really youthfulness, notwithstanding that it disguised itself so boldly in hoary and senile conceptions), than to take it seriously, or even treat it with moral indignation. Enough, however the world grew older, and the dream vanished. A time came when people rubbed their foreheads, and they stiU rub them to-day. People had been dreaming, and first and foremost old Kant. "By means of a means (faculty)" he had said, or at least meant to say. But, is that an answer? An explanation? Or is it not rather merely a repetition of the question? How does opium induce sleep? "By means of a means (faculty)," namely the virtus dormitiva, replies the doctor in Moliere,
Quia
Cuius
est in
est
eo virtus dormitiva, natura sensus assoupire.^
But such replies belong to the realm of comedy, and it is high time to replace the Kantian question, "How are synthetic judgments a priori possible?" by another question, "Why is belief in such judgments necessary?" in effect, it is
high time that we should understand that such judgments must be believed to be true, for the sake of the preservation of creatures like ourselves; though they still might naturally be false judgments! Or, more plainly spoken, and roughly and readily synthetic judgments a priori should not "be possible" at all; we have no right to them; in our mouths they are nothing but false judgments. Only, of course, the belief in their truth is necessary, as plausible belief and ocular evidence belonging to the perspective view of life. And finally, to call to mind the enormous influence which "German philosophy" I hope you understand its right to inverted commas (goosefeet)? has exercised throughout the whole of Europe, there is no doubt that a certain virtus dormitiva had a share in it; thanks to German philosophy, it was a delight to the noble idlers, the
virtuous, the mystics, the artists, the three-fourths Christians, and the political obscurantists of all nations, to find an antidote to the still overwhelming sen-
sualism which overflowed from the last century into assoupire."

. .
.
this,
in short
"sensus
Nietzsche
is
of course unfair to Kant. But
intellectual life that in
it is one of the facts of the our many-minded Western culture there are a good
many people
dislike
at all times
the kind of thinking
Kant exemplifies almost too

indignation.
and indignation
even moral
yes,
in the
Middle Ages
among whom
neatly arouses intense
To
the morally hard-boiled,
the morally soft-boiled are quite simply immoral.
THERE IS THEREFORE BUT ONE CATEGORICAL IMPERATIVE, WHICH MAY be thus stated: Act in conformity with that maxim, and that maxim only, which you can at the same time will to be a universal law. Now, if from this single imperative, as from their principle, all imperatives of duty can be derived, we shall at least be able to indicate what we mean by the categorical imperative and what the conception of it
From John Watson, translator and editor, The Philosophy of Kant (New York: Macmillan & Co., 1888), pp. 241-246, 248-250. 2 Because there is in it a sleep-making virtue, the nature of which is to deaden
the senses.
C. B.

implies, although
157
duty
shall not be able to say whether the conception of be empty. The universality of the law which governs the succession of events,
we
may
not
itself
is
what we mean by nature,
in the
most general
is
sense, that
is,
the existence
of things, in so far as their existence

universal laws.
in this
determined in conformity with
The universal imperative of duty might therefore be put way: Act as if the maxim from which you act were to become through your will a universal law of nature. If we attend to what goes on in ourselves in every transgression of a duty, we find, that we do not will that our maxim should become a universal law. We find it in fact impossible to do so, and we really will that the opposite of our maxim should remain a universal law, at the same time that we assume the Mberty of making an exception in favour of natural inclination in our own case, or perhaps only for this particular occasion. Hence, if we looked at all cases from the same point of view, that is, from the point of view of reason, we should see that there was here a contradiction in our wiU. The contradiction is, that a certain principle is admitted to be necessary objectively or as a universal law, and yet is held not to be universal subjectively, but to admit of exceptions. What we do is, to consider our action at one time from the point of view of a will that is in perfect conformity with reason, and at another time from the point of view of a will that is under the influence of natural inclination. There is, therefore, here no real contradiction, but merely an antagonism of incHnation to the
command
of reason.
The
universality of the principle
is
changed into a mere generality, in order that the practical principle of reason may meet the maxim half way. Not only is this limitation condemned by our own impartial judgment, but it proves that we actually recognize the validity of the categorical imperative, and merely allow ourselves to make a few exceptions in our own favour which we try to consider as of no importance, or as a necessary concession to circumstances.
This much at least we have learned, that if the idea of duty is to have any meaning and to lay down the laws of our actions, it must be expressed in categorical and not in hypothetical imperatives. We have also obtained a clear and distinct conception (a very important thing), of what is implied in a categorical imperative which contains the principle of duty for all cases, granting such an imperative to be possible at all. But we have not yet been able to prove a priori, that there actually is such an imperative; that there is a practical law which commands absolutely on its own authority, and is independent of all sensuous impulses; and that duty consists in obedience to this law. In seeking to reach this point, it is of the greatest importance to observe, that the reaUty of this principle cannot possibly be derived from
the peculiar constitution of
tically
human
nature.
act,
unconditioned necessity of an
For by duty is meant the pracand hence we can show that
158
duty
is
IMMANUEL KANT
a law for the will of
all
all
human
beings, only
by showing that
it is
applicable to
rational beings, or rather to all rational beings to

at
all.
whom
an imperative applies
The
question, then,
is this:
Is
it
a necessary law for

their actions
all rational beings,
that they
must always estimate the value of
by asking whether
it
they can will that their

is
maxims should
serve as universal laws? If there

is
such a law,
is
it
must be possible
to prove entirely a priori, that
bound up with
there
the very idea of the will of a rational being.
To show
that
such a connection
we
must, however reluctantly, take a step into
the realm of metaphysic; not, however, into the realm of speculative
philosophy, but into the metaphysic of moraUty. For

will to itself, in so far as
we have
here to
deal with objective practical laws, and therefore with the relation of the
it
is
determined purely by reason. All relation

is
of the will to
what
is
empirical
excluded as a matter of course, for

itself,
it
if
reason determines the relation entirely by

so a priori.
must necessarily do
action in accord-
Will
is
conceived of as a faculty of determining
itself to
ance with the idea of certain laws. Such a faculty can belong only to a rational being. Now that which serves as an objective principle for the
self-determination of the will is an end, and if this end is given purely by reason, it must hold for all rational beings. On the other hand, that which is merely the condition of the possibility of an action the effect of which is the end, is called the means. The subjective ground of desire is natural inclination, the objective ground of volition is a motive; hence there is a distinction between subjective ends, which depend upon natural inclination, and objective ends, which are connected with motives that hold for every rational being. Practical principles that abstract from all subjective ends are formal; those that presuppose subjective ends, and therefore natural inclinations, are material. The ends which a rational being arbitrarily sets before himself as material ends to be produced by his actions, are aU merely relative; for that which gives to them their
value
is
They can
simply their relation to the peculiar susceptibility of the subject. therefore yield no universal and necessary principles, or prac-
tical laws,
Upon
applicable to all rational beings, and binding upon every will. such relative ends, therefore, only hypothetical imperatives can
be based.
is something the existence of which has an absolute value, something which, as an end in itself, can be a ground of definite laws; then, there would lie in that, and only in that,
Suppose, however, that there
in itself
the ground of a possible categorical imperative or practical law.
Now,
as
I say, that
an end
in himself, not
man, and indeed every rational being as such, exists merely as a means to be made use of by this
in all his actions,
or that
will,
and therefore man
whether these are
di-
rected towards himself or towards other rational beings, must always be
regarded as an end.
No
object of natural desire has
more than a conditioned

value; for
if
159
the natural desires, and the wants to which they give rise,
did not exist, the object to which they are directed would have no value
and wants from having an absolute from being sought simply for themselves that every rational being must wish to be entirely free from their influence. The value of every object which human action is the means of obtaining, therefore, always conditioned. And even beings whose existence is, depends upon nature, not upon our will, if they are without reason, have only the relative value of means, and are therefore called things. Rational beings, on the other hand, are called persons, because their very nature shows them to be ends in themselves, that is, something which cannot be made use of simply as a means. A person being thus an object of respect, a certain limit is placed upon arbitrary will. Persons are not purely subjective ends, whose existence has a value for us as the effect of our actions, but they are objective ends, or things whose existence is an end in itself, for which no other end can be substituted. If all value were conditioned, and therefore contingent, it would be impossible to show that there is any supreme practical principle whatever. If, then, there is a supreme practical principle, a principle which in relation to the human will is a categorical imperative, it must be an objective principle of the will, and must be able to serve as a universal practical law. For, such a principle must be derived from the idea of that which is necessarily an end for every one because it is an end in itself. Its foundation is this, that rational nature exists as an end in itself. Man necessarily conceives of his own existence in this way, and so far this is a subjective principle of human action. But in this way also every other rational being conceives of his own existence, and for the very same reason; hence the principle is also objective, and from it, as the highest practical ground, all laws of the will must be capable of being derived. The practical imperative will therefore be this: Act so as to use humanity, whether in your own person or in the person of another, always as an
at all.
So
far are the natural desires
value, so far are they
end, never as merely a means.
All rational beings stand under the law, that each should treat himself
and
others, never simply as
means, but always as at the same time ends in
themselves.
Thus there
arises a systematic
combination of rational beings
through the
medium
of
common
objective laws. This

is
may
this
well be called a
of ends
kingdom
is
of ends, because the object of those laws
just to relate all rational
beings to one another as ends and means.
Of course
all
kingdom
merely an
ideal.
Morality, then, consists in the relation of
action to the system of
laws which alone makes possible a kingdom of ends. These laws must belong to the nature of every rational being, and must proceed from his
will.
own
The
principle of the will, therefore,
is,
that
no action should be done
from any other maxim than one which is consistent with a universal law. This may be expressed in the formula: Act so that the will may regard itself
160
as in
its
IMMANUEL KANT
maxims
laying
down
universal laws.
tional beings are not
by
their very nature in
Now, if the maxims of raharmony with this objective
principle, the principle of a universal in conformity with that principle

is
system of laws, the necessity of acting
called practical obligation or duty.

will in the
No
doubt duty does not apply to the sovereign

but
is
it
kingdom of ends,
applies to every
member
of
it,
and
to all in equal measure.
Autonomy
thus the foundation of the moral value of
man and
of every other ra-
tional being.
The
three
ways
in
are at bottom simply different statements of the

plies the other two.
which the principle of morality has been formulated same law, and each imwill, then,
An
absolutely
good
the principle of which must be a categori-
be undetermined as regards all objects, and will contain merely the form of volition in general, a form which rests upon the autonomy of the wUl. The one law which the will of every rational being imposes upon itself, and imposes without reference to any natural impulse or any interest, is, that the maxims of every good will must be capable of being
cal imperative, will
made
it is
a universal law.
How such
an a
is
priori synthetic practical proposition is possible,
and why
necessary,
a problem which
it
is
not the task of a metaphysic of
morality to solve.
we attempted
have not even affirmed it to be true, much less have its truth. To prove that practical reason is capable of being employed synthetically, and that morality is not a mere fiction of
to prove
We
the brain, requires us to enter
upon a
criticism of the faculty of practical
reason
itself.
JEREMY BENTHAM
The Principle of
Utility
Jeremy Bentham (1748-1833) was an English philosopher indeed a philosopher in the old-fashioned sense used on the vaudeville stage, absentminded, eccentric, pleasantly pompous, full of ideas, some of which were practical enough, but never himself engaged in practical affairs. He coined many phrases and words, of which "international" has proved indispensable. His ethical position is known as "hedonism," from a Greek root meaning "pleasure," and is a constant of Western ethical thought from the Epicureans on. But it is significant that Bentham, and his English Utilitarian followers like J. S. Mill, in this respect like Epicurus and Lucretius, were far from meaning by "pleasure" what Babbitt, Hollywood, and Mrs. Grundy mean by pleasure, that is, somewhat disreputable self-indulgence in the varied delights of the flesh. No, these hedonistic philosophers usually set specific ethical standards close to Stoic and Christian self -discipline, and even austerity. I should not for a moment deny, however, that the "principle of utility" outlined in the famous and very Benthamite passage below has been used to defend far less altruistic and high-minded standards
than those
we
associate with Christian ethics.
NATURE HAS PLACED MANKIND UNDER THE GOVERNANCE OF TWO It is for them alone to point out what we ought to do, as well as to determine what we shall do. On the one
I,
sovereign masters, pain and pleasure.
hand the standard of

effects, are
right
and wrong, on the other the chain of causes and
fastened to their throne.

think: every effort
They govern us
to
in
all
we
do, in
all
we
throw off our subjection, wUl serve but to demonstrate and confirm it. In words a man may pretend to abjure their empire: but in reality he will remain subject to it all the while. The principle of utility recognizes this subjection, and assumes it for the foundation of that system, the object of which is to rear the fabric of felicity by the hands of reason and of law. Systems which attempt to quessay, in all
we
we can make
From Crane Brinton, ed., 1956), pp. 93-97.
Age of Reason Reader (New York: The Viking
Press,
161
162
tion
it
JEREMY BENTHAM
deal in sounds instead of sense, in caprice instead of reason, in dark-
ness instead of light.
But enough of metaphor and declamation: moral science is to be improved.
it is
not by such means that
II. The principle of utiUty is the foundation of the present work: it will be proper therefore at the outset to give an expUcit and determinate account of what is meant by it. By the principle of utility is meant that principle which approves or disapproves of every action whatsoever, according to the tendency which it appears to have to augment or diminish the hap-
whose interest is in question: or, what is the same thing promote or to oppose that happiness. I say of every action whatsoever; and therefore not only of every action of a private individual, but of every measure of government. III. By utiUty is meant that property in any object, whereby it tends to produce benefit, advantage, pleasure, good, or happiness, (all this in the present case comes to the same thing) or (what comes again to the same thing) to prevent the happening of mischief, pain, evil, or unhappiness to the party whose interest is considered: if that party be the community in general, then the happiness of the community: if a particular individual,
piness of the party
in other words, to
then the happiness of that individual.

IV.
The
interest of the
community
that can occur in the phraseology of morals:
of
it is
often lost.
When
were
it
one of the most general expressions no wonder that the meanuig has a meaning it is this. The community is a ficis
titious
body, composed of the individual persons

it
who
are considered as
community then is, what? the sum of the interests of the several members who compose it. V. It is in vain to talk of the interest of the community, without understanding what is the interest of the individual. A thing is said to promote the interest, or to be jor the interest, of an individual, when it tends to add to the sum total of his pleasures: or, what comes to the same thing, to
constituting as
its
members. The
interest of the
diminish the
VI.
sum
total of his pains.
An
action then
may be
said to be conformable to the principle of
utility, or,
for shortness' sake, to utility,
(meaning with respect to the com-
munity
VII.
at large)
when
the tendency
it
has to augment the happiness of the
community
is greater than any it has to diminish it. measure of government (which is but a particular kind of action, performed by a particular person or persons) may be said to be conformable to or dictated by the principle of utility, when in like manner the tendency which it has to augment the happiness of the community is greater than any which it has to diminish it. VIII. When an action, or in particular a measure of government, is supposed by a man to be conformable to the principle of utility, it may be convenient, for the purposes of discourse, to imagine a kind of law or dictate,
called a law or dictate of utility:
and
to speak of the action in question, as
being conformable to such law or dictate.
The
Principle of Utility
163
IX.
A man
is
it
may be
said to be a partisan of the principle of utility,
when
the approbation or disapprobation he annexes to any action, or to any
measure,
conceives
determined by and proportioned to the tendency which he

to
munity: or in other words, to

dictates of utility.
X.
have to augment or to diminish the happiness of the comits conformity or unconformity to the laws or
is
Of an
action that
always say either that
it is
conformable to the principle of utiUty one one that ought to be done, or at least that
may
it is it
not one that ought not to be done. should be done; at least that
a right action; at least that
it is
One may
it
say also, that
it
is
right
it
not wrong
should be done: that
is
it is
not a wrong action.
When
thus interpreted,
the words ought, and right and wrong, and others of that stamp, have a
meaning: when otherwise, they have none. XI. Has the rectitude of this principle been ever formally contested? It should seem that it had, by those who have not known what they have been meaning. Is it susceptible of any direct proof? it should seem not: for that which is used to prove everything else, cannot itself be proved: a chain of proofs must have their commencement somewhere. To give such proof is
as impossible as
XII.
it
is
needless.
Not that there is or ever has been that human creature breathing, however stupid or perverse, who has not on many, perhaps on most occasions of his
life,
deferred to
it.
By
the natural constitution of the
human
actions,
frame, on most occasions of their Uves

ciple,
men
in general
embrace
this prin-
without thinking of
it:
if
not for the ordering of their
own
men. There have been, at the same time, not many, perhaps, even of the most intelligent, who have been disposed to embrace it purely and without reserve. There are even few who have not taken some occasion or other to quarrel with it, either on account of their not understanding always how to apply it, or on account of some prejudice or other which they were afraid to examine into, or could not bear to part with. For such is the stuff that man is made of: in principle and and in practice, in a right track and in a
yet for the trying of their
actions, as well as of those of other
own
wrong one, the

XIII.
rarest of all
human
qualities
is
consistency.
utility, it is
When
man
if
attempts to combat the principle of

it,
with
reasons drawn, without his being aware of
from that very principle
itself.
is
His arguments, wrong, but

it, is is
they prove anything, prove not that the principle
that,
according to the applications he supposes to be

it
made
of
misapplied. Is
possible for a
man
to
move
the earth? Yes; but he
must
first
find out another earth to stand upon.
CHARLES
L.
STEVENSON
Quite as typical a philosophical approach to ethics in our day

exemplified by the following passage. Charles L. Stevenson (1908
is
that
) is
Professor of Philosophy at the University of Michigan. His Ethics and Language is a moderate and tentative application to the field of ethics of the approach variously known as semantic, or analytical, or (mostly by
opponents) as "linguistic philosophy."
The
close
relation
of
this
ap-
one should be obvious. Professor Stevenson in his introduction states clearly that he is not writing a full treatise on the whole of ethics, but an essay on a narrowly specialized part of it.
to the psychological
proach
OUR FIRST QUESTION, THOUGH SEEMINGLY PERIPHERAL, WILL PROVE TO be of central importance: What is the nature of ethical agreement and disagreement? Is it parallel to that found in the natural sciences, differing only with regard to the
relevant subject matter; or
If
is it
of
some broadly
different sort?
we can answer
the question,
we
shall obtain a general
understanding
of what constitutes a normative problem; and our study of terms and
methods, which must explain
how this kind of problem becomes articulate argument or inquiry, will be properly oriented. There are certain normative problems, of course, to which the question is not directly relevant those which arise in personal deliberation, rather than in interpersonal discourse, and which involve not disagreement or agreement but simply uncertainty or growing conviction. But we shall later find that the question is indirectly relevant even to them; and meanwhile there is a convenience in looking chiefly to the interpersonal problems, where
and how
it is
open
to
the use of terms and methods
is
most
clearly evidenced.
our explicit attention to "disagreement," treating the positive term by impUcation. And let us begin by distinguishing two broad kinds of disagreement. We can do this in a wholly general
simplicity let us
limit
For
From Charles L. Stevenson, Ethics Press, 1944), pp. 2-8, 11-12.

164
and Language (New Haven: Yale University

way, temporarily suspending any decision about which kind of normative ethics, and drawing our examples from other
is
165
most
typical
fields.
The disagreements
that occur in science, history, biography,
and
their
counterparts in everyday Ufe, will require only brief attention. Questions
about the nature of light-transmission, the voyages of Leif Ericsson, and

the date
on which Jones was
last in to tea, are all similar in that

is
they
may
involve an opposition that
primarily of beliefs.
(The term
"beliefs"
must
not, at least for the
moment, include reference

one
to ethical convictions;
is
for whether or not the latter are "beliefs" in the present sense
largely
the point that
is
to be discussed.) In such cases
the answer, and another that not-p, or

p, is the
answer; and in the
p is some proposition incompatible with course of discussion each tries to give some
it
man
believes that
manner
Let us
of proof for his view, or revise
in the light of further information.
call this
"disagreement in belief."
cases, differing sharply
from these, which may yet be They involve an opposition, sometimes tentative and gentle, sometime strong, which is not of beliefs, but rather of attitudes that is to say, an opposition of purposes, aspirations, wants, preferences, desires, and so on.^ Since it is tempting to overThere are other
called "disagreements" with equal propriety.
intellectualize these situations, giving too
much
attention to beliefs,
it
will
be helpful to examine them with care.
Suppose that two people have decided to dine together. One suggests
a restaurant where there
is
music; another expresses his disinclination to
It may then happen, as we commonly put it, that they "cannot easily agree on which restaurant to choose." The disagreement springs more from divergent preferences than from divergent beUefs, and will end when they both wish to go to the same place. It will be a mUd, temporary disagreement for this simple case
hear music, and suggests some other restaurant.
a disagreement
familiar sense.
friends.
in miniature; yet
it
wUl be a "disagreement"
in a wholly
Further examples are easily found. Mrs.
has social aspirations, and
wants to move with the

their party.
elite.
Mr.
is
easy-going, and loyal to his old
They accordingly disagree about what guests they will invite to The curator of the museum wants to buy pictures by contemporary artists; some of his advisers prefer the purchase of old masters. They disagree. John's mother is concerned about the dangers of playing football, and doesn't want him to play. John, even though he agrees (in
belief)
about the dangers, wants to play anyhow. Again, they disagree. These examples, like the previous one, involve an opposition of attitudes, and differ only in that the attitudes in question are a little stronger, and are likely to be defended more seriously. Let us refer to disagreement of
^
The term
"attitude"
is
here used in
gives to "interest." See his General

particularly p.
115.
much the same broad sense that R. B. Perry Theory of Value (Longmans, Green, 1926),
166
this sort as
CHARLES
"disagreement in attitude."-
L.
STEVENSON
be said to disagree one approving of it, for instance, and the other disapproving of it and when at least one of them has a motive for altering or calling into question the attitude of the other. Let us be careful to observe, however, that when one man is seeking to alter another's attitudes, he may at the same time be preparing to alter his own attitudes in the light of what the other may say. Disagreement in attitude, like disagreement in belief, need not be an
will
Two men
in attitude
when
they have opposed attitudes to the same object
occasion for forensic rivalry;
it
may be an
occasion for an interchange of
aims, with a reciprocal influence that both parties find to be beneficial.
The two kinds

is
of disagreement differ mainly in this respect: the former
concerned with
is
how
matters are trutlifully to be described and explained;
the latter
concerned with
how
they are to be favored or disfavored, and
hence with
how
they are to be shaped by
human
efforts.
Let us apply the distinction to a case that will sharpen it. Suppose Mr. Nearthewind maintains that most voters favor a certain bill, and Mr.
most of them are against it. It is clear that the and that their disagreement concerns attitudes namely, the attitudes they believe the voters to have. But are Nearthewind and Closerstill disagreeing in attitude? Clearly not. So far as their above contentions show, they are disagreeing in belief about attitudes, and need not be disagreeing in attitude at all. Disagreement in beUef about attitudes is simply a special sort of disagreement in belief, differing from disagreement in belief about head colds only with regard to subject matter. It implies not an opposition of the attitudes of the speakers, but only an opposition of certain of their beliefs that refer to attitudes. Disagreement in attitude, however, impUes an opposition of the very attitudes of the speakers. Nearthewind and CloserstiU may have opposing beliefs about attitudes without having opposing attitudes, just as they may have opposing beliefs about head colds without having opposing head colds. In so far as they are seekCloserstill maintains that
two men
disagree,
ing detached descriptions of the state of
human
attitudes, they are dis-
agreeing in belief; for attitudes enter only as a topic for cognitive study.
A
may
ment
parallel distinction holds for the positive term, "agreement,"
which
agree-
designate either convergent beliefs or convergent attitudes.

in belief
And
must
still
be distinguished from agreement in
attitude,
even
when
the beliefs are about attitudes. It will be convenient to use "agree-
ment," whether in belief or in attitude, as the logical contrary of "disagreement," rather than as its full contradictory. People may neither agree nor disagree as will happen when they are in a state of mutual indecision or irresolution, or when they simply "differ," having divergent beliefs or
attitudes without a sufficient
motive for making them alike. Let us continue to preserve expository economy by giving
explicit at-
In all of the examples given there may be a latent disagreement in belief, in addition to the disagreement in attitude. This is likely to be true of any example that is not painfully artificial; but the present examples are serviceable enough for their introductory purpose.
2

tention to "disagreement," treating "agreement" mainly
167
by implication.
The opposite procedure, which perhaps would seem more natural, has not been adopted for this simple reason: Our distinctions will subsequently
be carried over to ethical methodology. For
this special
ment
requires closer scrutiny than agreement; for although the
purpose disagreenorms which
are generally accepted, and
are undoubtedly
present instances
embodied in the mores of any given society, more numerous than the controversial ones, the latter where methods of reasoning are more overtly employed,
and more readily available for illustration and study. We must now see how the two sorts of disagreement are related, stiU illustrating our conclusions by examples that are not (or at least not obviously) ethical.
It is
by no means the case

This
is
that every
argument represents one

is
sort of
disagreement to the exclusion of the other. There
often disagreement of
both
sorts.
to say
little
not be compartmentalized.
affect
more than that our beliefs and attitudes must Our attitudes, as many have pointed out, often
our
beliefs,
not only by causing us to indulge in wishful thinking,
but also by leading us to develop and check such behefs as point out the
And conversely, our beUefs often affect our form of approval of something when we change our beliefs about its nature. The causal connection between beliefs and attitudes is usually not only intimate but reciprocal. To ask whether beliefs in general direct attitudes in general, or whether the causal conmeans of
getting
what we want.
our attitudes; for we
may
alter
nection goes rather in the opposite direction,

tion. It is
is
simply a misleading ques-
Hke asking, "Do popular writers influence public taste, or does public taste influence them?" Any implication that the alternatives are mutually exclusive can only be rejected. The influence goes both ways, although at times only one direction of influence may predominate. There is accordingly a close relationship between the sorts of disagreement that have been distinguished. Indeed, in some cases the existence of one may wholly depend on the existence of the other. Suppose that A and
actually is, have convergent attitudes toward the kind of thing that has erroneous itself simply because but indicate divergent attitudes to
beliefs
about
it,
whereas
has not. Discussion or inquiry, correcting A's
errors,
may
resolve the disagreement in belief; and this in turn
may be
for
sufficient to resolve the
disagreement in attitude.
it
was an occasion
the latter sort of disagreement only because
was an occasion
for the
former.
kinds of disagreement were
"Both one depending on the other," and say instead, "Only disagreement in beUef was initially present,
In cases of
this sort
one might be inclined to

initially
reject the expression,
present, the
the disagreement in attitude with regard to
being simply apparent."
If
was designated without ambiguity, however, so that the same X could be recognized by both parties regardless of their divergent beUefs about it, then the latter idiom would be seriously misleading. One man was definitely
168
Striving for
CHARLES
L.
STEVENSON
X, and the other definitely striving to oppose it; and if this involved ignorance, where one of the men was acting to defeat his broader
aims,
it
in attitude, so far as
restrict
remains altogether appropriate to say that the initial divergence was concerned, was genuine. It is convenient to the term "apparent" disagreement to cases which involve ambiguity
tually designates
where the term that seems Y for one of them. The relationship between the two
to cases
is
to designate
for both parties ac-
sorts of disagreement,
whenever
it
occurs,
always factual, never logical. So far as the logical possibilities are concerned, there may be disagreement in belief without disagreement
in attitude; for
even
if
extent involve attitudes,
an argument must always be motivated, and to that it does not follow that the attitudes which attend
opposed beUefs must themselves be opposed. People may share the ideals and aims which guide their scientific theorizing, for instance, and still
reach divergent beUefs. Similarly, there without disagreement in
belief.
its
panied by some belief about
may be disagreement in attitude Perhaps every attitude must be accomobject; but the beliefs which attend op-
posed attitudes need not be incompatible. and B may both believe that has Q, for instance, and have divergent attitudes to on that very account, approving of objects that have Q and B disapproving of them. Since it may also happen that both sorts of disagreement occur conjointly,
or that neither should occur, the logical possibilities are
all
open. Hence
one must appeal to experience to determine which of the
possibilities, in
any given case or

shows, as
class of cases, is in fact reahzed.
we
shall later see in detail, that the cases
But experience clearly which involve both
sorts of disagreement (or
agreement) are extremely numerous.

the sorts of disagreement can be distinguished,
related.
We
point,
have
now
seen
how
and how
(in a very
broad way) they are
There
is
only one further
among
these preliminary considerations, that deserves mention.
Our
distinction
between the sorts of disagreement has presupposed a more general one that between beliefs and attitudes. Like so many psychologi-
cal distinctions, the latter is not easily
made
clear.
Would
further analysis
serve to undermine
it?
Does any sharp separation
reflect
an antiquated
school of thought, in which beliefs are so
many mental
photographs, the
product of a special cognitive faculty, whereas attitudes stand apart as

the drives or forces of a totally different faculty?
A moment's consideration wiU show that the distinction can be preserved

in a
much more
legitimate maimer. It
is
possible, for instance, to accept
the pragmatic contention that beliefs and attitudes
partly at least, with reference to dispositions to action.
must both be analyzed, Such a view in no

it
way
suggests that beliefs and attitudes are "identical," so long as
is
soberly understood. It shows that they are

chologists suspected, but
it
more alike than the older psydoes not make them alike in every respect.
obliterate all differentiae.
The common genus does not

If
it is
difficult to specify just
how
beliefs
and
attitudes differ,
it
remains

the case that for practical purposes
169
we do and must make such
a distinction
every day.
A chess
expert, playing with a novice, uses an opening that ap-
pears very weak. An onlooker wonders, "Does he make the move because he believes that it is a strong one, or because, out of charity to his opponent, he doesn't want to make a strong one?" The distinction here between a belief and a want (attitude) is certainly beyond any practical objection.
One can
it
imagine the expert, with constant beliefs about the opening, using
it or not in accordance with his independent variation of the "causal
or not in accordance with his changing desires to win; or one can imagine
him, with constant desires to win, using
changing
beliefs. If in
imagining
this
factors" involved one
is
tempted to hypostatize either "belief or "attitude,"
the fault must be corrected not
by dispensing with the terms

lies
in favor of
purely generic talk about action, but rather by coming to understand the
full
complexity of reference that
behind the convenient simplicity of

will
language.
To
say that beliefs and attitudes are distinguishable factors, and
that an action
which they determine
vary with a variation in either
one,
as
is
to use a familiar English idiom,
which makes good sense so long
it is not pressed into some artificially simple mold. It is parallel to the statement that the selectivity and sensitivity of a radio are distinguishable factors, and that the quality of reception which they determine will vary
with a variation in either one. Such a statement need not
make
"selectivity"
and
"sensitivity" designate hypostatic "parts" of the radio;
nor does the
parallel statement
about beliefs and attitudes requke a hypostatic psy-
chology.
it may be added, there is no lack by which the onlooker may determine which attitudes and which beliefs determine the expert's play. No matter where the onlooker's inferences may lead him, he must begin by observing the expert's behavior, and can find there all the evidence that a practical decision requires. The behavior that enables him to decide this is endlessly more comphcated than the simple move of the pawn.
In the example of the chess player,
of empirical criteria
When
that
is
ethical issues
become
is
controversial, they involve disagreement
of a
dud
nature. There
which requires
in attitude.
practice,
detailed, sensitive attention; but there
almost inevitably disagreement in belief, is also disagreement
An analysis which seeks a full picture of ethics, in touch with must be careful to recognize both factors, neither emphasizing
the former to the exclusion of the latter, nor the latter to the exclusion of the former. Only by this means can it reveal the varied functions of the
ethical terms, and make clear how the methods of ethics compare with those of the natural sciences. Only by this means, indeed, can it envisage
its
almost say "the" problem

attitudes are related.
proper task; for the central problem of ethical analysis one might is one of showing in detail how beliefs and
170
If
CHARLES
L.
STEVENSON
life,
we examine
the concrete ethical problems that arise in daily
have much to do with beliefs. Unless an object is to be evaluated in ignorance, it must be viewed in its living, factual context. Disagreement in belief about this context, which may in turn occasion divergent evaluations of the object, must accordingly be recognized as an important source of ethical controversy. The beliefs that are relevant to determining the value of an object may be extremely compUcated no less so than the network of causes and effects in which the object lies. There can be no thought of marking off certain
we
shall easily see that they
beliefs
as
ethically
relevant,
and
certain others
as
ethically
irrelevant.
Potentially,
any belief has a bearing on ethics. This is a point which many theorists have been careful to recognize; but they have too often recognized it only for certain aspects of ethics and aspects which are commonly thought to be of Uttle philosophical interest. When an issue is
concerned with the value of something as a means to further ends, then (so the famihar contention runs) a great many beliefs, deaUng with meansends relationships, quite obviously become relevant. But when issues concern ultimate ends
cal
importance
then
and
these issues are taken to be of central philosophi-
the relevant beliefs
become much
less
diversified.
The behefs
that are then involved are thought to be limited, perhaps, to
special divisions of psychology or biology; or perhaps to

ethical field that hes
some
peculiarly
beyond the scope of scientific investigation. Such views are not the only ones that can be found in the philosophical tradition,
but they are sufficiently prevalent to deserve attention.

the present work, diverging from these views, will endeavor to
that the full range of men's behefs, in all their variety, are
Now
show
no
less
relevant in establishing ends than they are in establishing means. This con-
means and ends are
and psychological analysis of how is not dissimilar, in its broad outlines, to that found in the ethical writings of John Dewey. The details of such an analysis become somewhat technical, and cannot profitably be But it has been necessary developed at present, even in cursory form.
clusion will be based
upon a
related
an
logical
analysis that
to anticipate their general purport, ... for they will
show
that beliefs
may
be relevant throughout the whole structure of ethics, and that any effort to minimize then: variety can only result in grievous oversunplifications.
OLAF STAPLEDON
Moral
Zeal, Disillusion,
and Ecstasy
W. Olaf Stapledon (1886-1950) was an English writer known chiefly for some very philosophical science-fiction, such as Last and First Men, Odd
is not well known, but I find it sugany rate it is a good example as its subtitle, A Study of the oj one of the relatively new Relations of Ethics and Psychology, indicates directions formal writing on ethics has taken in the twentieth century.
John, and Sinus. His treatise on ethics
gestive,
and
at
THERE SEEM TO BE AT LEAST THREE MOODS WHICH THE MIND MAY experience with regard to good and evU. I will call them the mood of moral
zeal, the
mood
of disillusion, and the
mood
of ecstasy. It
is
ecstasy that I
wiU venture to discuss; but, first, it moods from one another. They do not necessarily exclude one another. It is possible to have various blends of them in which now one and now another
at
will be well to distinguish the three
is more prominent. Or perhaps I should rather say that we may attend once to those diverse aspects of experience which conduce to each of these three moods, and that we may be concerned now chiefly with one, now with another aspect. The mood of ecstasy, indeed, seems in some sense
to involve
and
to transform both the others.

life
In our customary daily

for
we seldom
we
are too closely engaged by the successive strokes of the
experience any of these moods, game of
With little thought as to what it really our private needs and the habitually recognized claims of our neighbours; or we brood upon our defeats, or build castles in the air. Now and again, however, the mind is shocked into a
living, to
is
contemplate
are doing,
it
as a whole.
fulfil
that
we
we
poignant realization of the stark difference between good and bad, and perhaps into some gesture of allegiance to the good.
This
mood
of moral zeal
may sometimes
spring from an unusually in-
tense and indignant experience of private need, or from a self-forgetful
espousal of the needs of another, or others, or from the spectacle of animal
From Olaf Stapledon, A Modern Theory of Ethics: A Study of the Relations of Ethics and Psychology (London: Methuen & Co. Ltd., 1929), pp. 241-251. 171
172
OLAF STAPLEDON
suffering. Or, again, it may arise from the discovery of some inconsistency or insincerity in oneself or another. But whatever the origin of the moral
mood,
as bad,
it
consists in a white-hot indignation against

in particular against all that
is
all
that
is
conceived
and
it)
conceived as conflicting with
the free activities of
human
all
beings and perhaps of animals, or (as

is
some
would put
against
is
The
universe
thought of as "contrary to the will of God." regarded single-mindedly in relation to the ethical disthat
life
between the powers of light and the powers of and death, or spirit's activity and the inertia of matter. We are so impressed by the urgent needs of living things, and perhaps by the needs of a world regarded as itself alive, that the ethical distinction seems to be an absolute distinction between characters of the real itself, and no mere accidental result of our sensitivity. If the stars are indifferent to this vast crusade for the good, so much the worse for them.
tinction, the great struggle
darkness, or between
If
they be not themselves alive or seats of
life,
we may
ignore them; unless
indeed they can be

ideal. If, as
made somehow
instrumental to the achievement of the
some
believe, the great enterprise of life

is
on
this
planet must
sooner or later end in defeat, then the universe
contemptible, a brute-
mother devouring her divine

ters
foster-child.
but the abolition of

this zealous
evils
For nothing, in this mood, matand the achievement of goods.

fall
From
mood we may
into disillusion.^ This
is
experienced
alive to a
as a definite contraction of the spirit, or a collapse

less alive
from a more
is
mode
of being.
Our headlong
ethical enthusiasm
perhaps sud-
denly and mysteriously checked, as though by a change of weather.
As
though by spongy ground, we are reduced suddenly from a gallop to a hang-dog walk. Perhaps we have been exhausted by some hidden physiological
change, and have projected our jaundiced

it
mood upon
the enviroimient.
Perhaps, on the other hand,

projected
its
is
mere thought
that has fatigued us
and
pale cast
upon the world.

cause,
Anyhow, from whatever

all
we
find ourselves disillusioned about
values, save probably the fierce negative value of sensory pain.

far as to
The
of
normal mind seldom sinks so

pain stimuli.
It
be disillusioned about the badness of

rise to
may
indeed transcend their badness,
some degree
emancipation from their tyranny, through the experience of higher values; but this transcendence is no mere disillusionment. In disillusion all values
above the sensory level simply escape our apprehension. No longer is the world a theatre of intense personal dramas, or of the cosmical epic of
good and evil; it is just a tedious and chaotic accident, a foul tangle of thorns and marshes wherein one has somehow to find a tolerable resting place. Of course there are sweets, a few rare berries to be captured now
^The word "disillusion" may either mean literally the process of admitting cherished illusions to be in fact only illusions, together with the emotional attitude of bored disappointment, which such a discovery usually evokes; or it may mean the disappointed emotional attitude alone, whether it happens to be justified by the situation or not. Here I use it in the latter sense, namely, to mean the emotional
attitude. It is possible to
have an
illusory disillusion.
Moral Zeal,
Disillusion,
and Ecstacy
173
and then. But mostly they turn sour in the mouth, and always after them comes colic. The prudent man takes as little as possible of the hostile world into his system. He loves as mildly and as rarely as possible. He eschews all loyalties. He exerts his will only to keep reality at arm's length. For life, in this mood, seems a long and sleepless night in an uncomfortable bed. We toss and yawn, and stop our ears against the clamour of the world, and construct a defence of pleasant fantasies, or hypnotize ourselves with mildly laborious and aimless antics, to entice sleep. When we succeed to some extent in this attempt to keep ourselves from
being implicated in the world that
is
over against us, our disillusion
achieve a certain cynical complacency of triumph.

times be so intense that, buttressed by a
little
And
confused
may may somethinking, it may

this
from ephemeral evil. When, on the other hand, the demands of the body, or of other persons to whose needs we happen to be sensitive, are so insistent that we cannot disengage ourselves from them, or again when we contemplate the insecurity of all our defences, we may taste abject terror on account of our vulnerability. And this terror, so long as it is experienced only in imagination, may sometimes exalt itself into a kind of pseudo-tragic ecstasy. For we are all capable of masochism at a safe distance from the actual. But these moods of triumph and terror are in truth mere phases of the disillusioned flight from the enticing and wounding object of experience.
persuade us that
attained a sublime detachment
we have
values and have found the goal that transcends good and
And
bad
in defence of this withdrawal
we may
is
construct or accept
all
sorts of
theories, the gist of

is
which
is
always that the difference between good and

a meaningless concept; and indeed
is itself
Ulusory, and that obligation
that the preference for pleasure rather than pain
a fortuitous and
crazy bias, which the prudent
man
will seek to
escape as far as possible.
THE RISE TO ECSTASY

The third mood, which I venture to Some would perhaps identify it with
sion; for in
call "ecstasy," is less
easy to describe.
of disillu-
the
more triumphant kind
some
sense
it
certainly involves both triumph
and detachment
from all desire. Others may refuse to distinguish it from disillusion of the more tortured type; for it is not wholly unlike masochism. Some may claim that it is essentially moral, though it is emancipated from every particular moral bias and every moral code; for certamly it is an experience in which a supreme duty seems to be fulfilled by the stripped and cleansed spirit.
Others
may
think of
it
as the highest reach of that kind of experience
which we call aesthetic; for they perhaps know it best in contemplation of works of art. Some, however, would insist that what is under discussion is
simply the religious experience, since
it is
essentially the contemplation of
supreme excellence, and the spiritual gesture which we call worship. Many, of course, would sunply deny that there is any such experience
174
as that
OLAF STAPLEDON
which
I
wish to describe. They suspect that anyone

is
has, or did have, such experiences
merely mistaken.
who thinks he Some precious
dogma
or other (they suggest) demands that there should be the possibility
of intuitive apprehension of occult reality, or of value other than teleological values;
and so
in certain
moods
of zest a believer
may
persuade himself
that he
fact,
is is
face to face with the supreme excellence, when, as a matter of
he
merely rather excited.
It is
so easy to believe that an experience
has the character that In
we want
is
it
to have,
and even easier
is it
to
assume
that a past experience did have the desired character.

all
these spheres there
indeed grave danger of self-deception and

it
faulty introspection.
But
in the last resort

is
is
only by
more
rigorous
be discovered. We cannot afford to discard introspection altogether merely because it sometimes fails us. No doubt many have deceived themselves into believing that they have had definitely super-normal experience. Possibly others, however, really have had such experience, and have been unable to describe it intelligibly to the mystically
introspection that our error
to
blind. Indeed, the literature of mysticism
is
so vast and detailed, and so

to the interpretation,
much
in agreement, that the existence, as
opposed
of unique mystical experiences

the testimony of
also their
is
may be
considered publicly established by

it,
many
persons who, claming to have had
have established
alas,
it
own
honesty and their accuracy of introspection. But,
almost impossible to disentangle their data from their interpretations.

the truth, but they fail to describe
it
The professed mystics may have seen

intelligibly,
and
their interpretations are often na'ive.

I
Here, however,
am
all.
perience of the great mystics, namely, a
concerned with something less remote than the exmood which may happen to very
I
many
of us
if
not to
Perhaps
it
am
not entitled to use the term "ecstasy"
to signify experiences which,
may
be, are wholly unlike the alleged mysti-
cal ecstasy.
Yet
adopt
this
experience under discussion

value-experiences, and that
that the excellence
magniloquent word to mark the fact that the is strikingly different from all our ordinary
it
involves a sense of exaltation; and further,

is
which
it
claims to apprehend
conceived as the at-
whole universe, or of the whole universe as it is presented to the individual. It is an experience which, though it may occur but rarely in the life of any particular person, is not properly called super-normal. I would hazard the guess that, though many might disown the experience entirely, they have as a matter of fact had it, but have failed to distinguish it from other experiences somewhat like it, or have perhaps simply failed to notice it when it has occurred. For it is an experience which must be very carefully introspected if we would neither overlook it entirely nor mistake it for something else. To careful introspection it appears to be neither an enjoyment of teleological fulfilment nor a mystical apprehension of the reality behind famihar appearances. It is essentially, I should say, the appreciation of an unfamiliar and surpassing excellence in
tribute not of a part but of the
the total object of familiar experience. It
is
not insight into the "reality"
Moral Zeal,
Disillusion,
and Ecstacy
175
behind "appearances," but discovery of a hitherto unappreciated excellence

of the familiar world
itself.
mood which I have called ecstasy is very by the state of the body. As in the one case certain physiological changes seem to diminish our capacity for intuiting value, so
As
with disillusion, so also the
possibly conditioned
in the other case
it
may
well be that other physiological changes induce
in us a be, the
more
delicate sensitivity, or a shrewder percipience. to us with
However
this
mood comes
an enjoyment of
intensified physical activity,
a kind of unusual wide-awakeness. This, perhaps, means simply that we find ourselves at grips with a more stimulating, more vivid, or more complex objective field than usual; or, since this
the intense ethical zeal,
it
much
is
also characteristic of
were better to say that in the mood that I am describing we seem to discover in the urgent struggle between goods and bads a more serene and hitherto neglected aspect. We glimpse the same reality from a fresh angle. Or, to use an imperfect but perhaps helpful image, from seeing things single-mindedly, with monocular ethical vision we pass to a stereoscopic, binocular, or argus-eyed vision, in which the
What we see is what we saw before, but we Whereas before we could appreciate only the good of victory, now we salute a higher kind of excellence which embraces impartially both victory and defeat. Very diverse situations may afford occasion for this enlightenment, situations so diverse that it seems at first impossible to find any feature comethical
is
but one factor.
see
it
solid.
mon
to
them
all.
Fleeting sense-objects are sometimes potent symbols that
evoke the experience.
breath of fresh air
may be enough,
more complex
or an odour,
objects as a
or a clash of colours or of sounds, or such

gesture or the curve of a limb.
On
the other hand, objects of a very differus, for instance, a
ent kind
may
if it
effect the
change in
be our powers of comprehension and affords the

especially
tragic, or
a subtle matter of intellectual study

illusion of
supreme work of art, which taxes

emancipating us
from our human

In
fact,
limitations.
almost any
kmd
of object
may
afford the stimulus for this

so.
mood
of ecstasy, or on the other
hand may never do
One kind
of situation,
however,
perience.
is
perhaps peculiarly significant for an understanding of the exfinal defeat in
Grave personal danger, or conviction of
cherished enterprise, or the danger or final downfall of

of loyalty
some most some dearest object
it is
perhaps in these situations that the precise content of the
mood
is
best seen.
It is possible, for instance, to
to quivering incapacity
and
terror,
be on the verge of panic, to be reduced and yet all the while to be an exultant
onlooker, rapt in observation of the spectacle, yet in a queer

It is
possible even in the compulsive reaction to pain in one's
way own
aloof.
flesh,
and even while helplessly watching a beloved's pain,
to be, precisely, in
the very act of frantic revulsion, coldly, brilliantly, enlightened, not as to

the excellence of pain, but as to the excellence of the universe.
176
There seem to be two factors
involve the vigorous espousal of
OLAF STAPLEDON
common
to these experiences.
They
are
all
some need or
all
other, great or small;
and
all
they are
all
experiences of the defeat of the espoused need.
They
occasions of intense psychical activity, and
occasions of defeat.
to
From
dis-
unusually intense and thwarted desire

lence of an entirely different order.
we seem
Not
that
wake, without any

pierce
illusionment from the ends at stake, into apprehension of value or excel-
we
beyond
illusory
appearances to reality
itself,
or contemptuously turn from the shadow to
the substance, but rather, as I have said,
we
appreciate something that was
presented before but was hitherto beyond our appreciation. Not even that
"re-value"; for re-valuation implies some denial of the urgency of former values. Rather we prize these even more than formerly; and, just because of this new apprehension, just because experience of this other
we
order of excellence irradiates even the familiar valuations that
it
transcends,
we may be even more
active in their defence than
we were
before our en-
lightenment. For, paradoxically, the familiar values, even with their
new
poignancy, are perceived as members in that higher excellence which does
indeed both eclipse them and enhance them.
EMANCIPATION FROM TELEOLOGY

call this mood ecstasy, even though perhaps it is profoundly from the ecstasy of the mystics. For it is essentially a standing outside oneself, and an aloofness from all the familiar objects of the will, a detachment not merely from the private person but equally from the world and its claims, not indeed to deny them, but to appreciate them with a new serenity. To speak almost in the same breath of detachment and of enhanced appreciativeness may seem inconsistent. But anyone who has ever attempted any work of art must understand this description. For it is only when we stand aloof from our work, that we most justly and most keenly appreciate whatever is good in it. Immersed no longer in the technical labour, with all its incidental but engrossing defeats and victories, we can value without distraction (and therefore with closer attention, and therefore more sharply), the aesthetic whole that we have devised. I do not mean merely that in ecstasy our private desires may come to be regarded as unimportant and contemptible compared with the needs (say) of mankind as a community of interdependent minds; somewhat as, within the individual's private economy, momentary impulses may be regarded as less worthy of consideration than permanent and deep-seated dispositions. It is not this comparative evaluation of needs and their fulfilments that is in question. In this mood of ecstasy we seem in some manner to pass beyond the whole cramping, limiting distinction between good and bad; we may even contemplate with a kind of cold fervour of acquiescence the possibility even that the whole enterprise of mind in the cosmos should fail, that the richest capacity of the universal active sub-
WeU may we
different
Moral Zeal,
Disillusion,
and Ecstacy
For
111
stance should never achieve expression in the supreme level of organism,
and that
all
that has hitherto
been achieved should be
lost.
in this
mood
not only victory but also defeat, even
final catastrophe, is
experienced
as good. We seem to stand above the battle in which we ourselves are eager and hard-pressed fighters, and to admire it as a work of divine art, in which tragic aesthetic excellence overwhelmingly vindicates all the defeat and pain even of those who may never have access to this vision. Evidently if this account of ecstasy be true, we have come upon a very serious difficulty for an ethical theory according to which we mean by "good" simply fulfilment of activity or tendency. For if by "good" we
mean
meaningless even to ask of a certain instance an instance of fulfilment or not. Let us, however, put aside this difficulty for the present, and pursue our empirical investigation of ecstasy. It is this radical difference between the familiar values and the value gUmpsed in ecstasy that leads some to suppose that in ecstasy the distinction between good and bad is seen to be abolished. This I believe
fulfillment,
it
is
of "good" whether
it is
to be an error. Detachment from lower values for the sake of higher is mistaken for emancipation from value itself. There is, no doubt, a sense in which the spiritual life mvolves a "disintoxication" from the influence of
all
values,^ an aloofness even in the
most exalted
delights.
But these
negative phrases describe only the process of emancipation, not the end for the sake of which emancipation is attempted. And even so they misdescribe; for there
is
nothing in them to distinguish ecstasy from disillusion,
the somnolent failure to value at aU from the awakening

of valuation and a
true that in
mto a new mode new sphere of values, unnoticed in familiar moods. It is ecstasy we have peace, and that we are indeed emancipated
and can accept whatever
befalls. This,
from
all
desire,
however, does not

discovered,
imply that
we have transcended
we
value, but rather that
we have
good.
or seem to have discovered, that whatever befalls

the issue of fate;
are not indifferent to
it.
is
We
admire
Those who claim that the "spiritual life" consists in an emancipation from value, admit that to the imperfectly spiritual the goal of spirituality constitutes a value, and the supreme value; but, they argue, the goal itself is a state m which value is seen to be illusory. In the spiritual view it matters not whether anyone
attains to spirituality,
fail.
still
less
whether the world's enterprises succeed or

is
Therefore,
this is to
we
are told,
m the spiritual view value

fact, insisted
altogether escaped.
the mystics themand even by those who claim that value is transcended, that the spkitual life has its joys. It may be in a sense emancipated from desire, but only in the sense that it possesses what is most desirable, and has no
But
overlook the
upon often by
selves,
occasion to desire more.
This dispute evidently does not turn on the propriety of the use of the words "good" and "value" with reference beyond the familiar plane of teleology. Rather the question is as to whether the experience is or is not ^G. Santayana, Platonism and
the Spiritual Life, p. 30.
178
affectively toned,
OLAF STAPLEDON
and conatively
it
active. Is
it
mere detachment, mere
disit
intoxication, or
is
definitely "ecstatic" in the familiar sense? Surely
comes to us as essentially the contemplation of an object as good, though as good in a manner very different from the familiar manner. It is not mere contemplation, but admiring contemplation. There is a judgment,
implicit or explicit, that the object of contemplation ought to be, that
it is
an end in
itself
and for
itself,
and further
that
when
it is
delivered to
our contemplation we ought to salute it with that gesture of the spirit which we call admiration or worship. If anyone should ask what meaning
there
is
in saying that
an object
is
an end in and for

it
itself,
we must answer
is
that in the final ethical analysis
turns out that in all value-judgments,
an objective
further.
situation,
such as organic fulfilment or personal fulfilment,

itself.
simply judged good in and for
We
cannot analyse the experience
D
Transcendence:
The Mystic Dimension
ALDOUS HUXLEY
The Perennial Flight
AUious Huxley (1S94century intellectual

life.
),
English-born but long resident in southern
California, hardly needs introduction to
anyone interested
in
twentieth-
Novelist of ideas and essayist, he has always been
may call vulgarly intoxication, from that induced by drugs to that induced by God. The introduction to the anthology of recorded mystical experiences and writings on mystical life which he calls The Perennial Philosophy can sen-e us here as an admirable introduction to this section of our study. Critics have often noted the contrast between Huxley's admirably clear, sophisticated, often epigrammatic (dare one say, rationalistic?) prose style and the depths he is trying to sound, depths that usually echo to a very different rhetoric.
fascinated by what one
PHILOSOPHIA PERENNIS THE PHRASE WAS COINED BY LEIBNIZ; BUT THE the metaphysic that recognizes a divine Reality substantial to the world of things and hves and minds; the psychology that finds in the soul something similar to, or even identical with. di\ine Reality; the ethic that places man's final end in the knowledge of the immanent and transcendent Ground of all being the thing is immemorial and universal. Rudiments of the Pereimial Philosophy may be found among the traditionary lore of primitive peoples in ever}' region of the world, and in its fully developed forms it has a place in ever\' one of the higher religions. A version of this Highest Common Factor in all preceding and subsequent theologies was first committed to wTiting more than twenty-five centuries ago, and since that time the inexhaustible theme has been treated again and again, from the standpoint of even,' religious tradition and in all the principal languages of Asia and Europe. In the pages that follow I have brought together a number of selections from these writings, chosen mainly for their significance ^because they effectively illustrated some particular point in the
thing
general system of the Pereimial Philosophy
^but
also for their intrinsic

Brothers,
From Aldous Huxley, The Perennial Philosophy 1944-45), pp. Vn-XI.

180
(New York: Harper &
The Perennial
Flight
181
beauty and memorableness. These selections are arranged under various
my own, designed and connect, to develop and, where necessary, to elucidate. Knowledge is a function of being. When there is a change in the being of the knower, there is a corresponding change in the nature and amount of knowing. For example, the being of a child is transformed by growth and education into that of a man; among the results of this transformation is a revolutionary change in the way of knowing and the amount and character of the things known. As the individual grows up, his knowledge becomes more conceptual and systematic in form, and its factual, utilitarian content is enormously increased. But these gains are offset by a certain deterioration in the quaUty of immediate apprehension, a blunting and a loss of intuitive power. Or consider the change in his being which the scientist is able to induce mechanically by means of his instruments. Equipped with a spectroscope and a sixty-inch reflector an astronomer becomes, so far as eyesight is concerned, a superhuman creature; and, as we should naturally expect, the knowledge possessed by this superhuman creature is very different, both in quantity and quaUty, from that which can be acquired by a star-gazer with unmodified, merely
heads and embedded, so to speak, in a commentary of
to illustrate
human Nor
as
eyes.
are changes in the knower's physiological or intellectual being the
What we know depends also on what, moral beings, we choose to make ourselves. "Practice," in the words of William James, "may change our theoretical horizon, and this in a twofold way: it may lead into new worlds and secure new powers. Knowledge we could never attain, remaining what we are, may be attainable in consequences of higher powers and a higher life, which we may morally achieve." To put the matter more succinctly, "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God." And the same idea has been expressed by the Sufi poet, Jalal-uddin Rumi, in terms of a scientific metaphor: "The
only ones to affect his knowledge.
astrolabe of the mysteries of
God
is
love."
an anthology of the Perennial Philosophy; but, though an anthology, it contains but few extracts from the writings of professional men of letters and, though illustrating a philosophy, hardly anything from the professional philosophers. The reason for this is very simple. The Perennial Philosophy is primarily concerned with the one, divine ReaUty substantial to the manifold world of things and lives and minds. But the nature of this one Reality is such that it cannot be directly and immediately apprehended except by those who have chosen to fulfil certain conditions, making themselves loving, pure in heart, and poor in spirit. Why should this be so? We do not know. It is just one of those facts which we have to accept, whether we like them or not and however implausible and unlikely they may seem. Nothing in our everyday experience gives us any reason for supposing that water is made up of hydrogen and
This book, I repeat,
is
oxygen; and yet
when we
subject water to certain rather drastic treatments.
182
the nature of
its
ALDOUS HUXLEY
constituent elements
becomes manifest.
Similarly, noth-
ing in our everyday experience gives us

the
much
reason for supposing that

its
mind
of the average sensual
man
is
has, as one of
constituents,
some-
thing resembling, or identical with, the Reality substantial to the manifold
world; and yet,
when
that
mind
subjected to certain rather drastic treatit is
ments, the divine element, of which

manifest, not only to the
in part at least
its
composed, becomes
mind
It is
itself,
but also, by
reflection in external
behaviour, to other minds.
only by making physical experiments that

ojf
we can
it
discover the intimate nature
matter and
its
potentialities.
And
is
only by making psychological and moral experiments that
we can
discover the intimate nature of
mind and
life
its
potentialities.
In the ordinary
circumstances of average sensual

latent
mind remain and unmanifested. If we would realize them, we must fulfil certain conditions and obey certain rules, which experience has shown empirically to be valid. In regard to few professional philosophers and men of letters is there any evidence that they did very much in the way of fulfilling the necessary
these potentialities of the
conditions of direct spiritual knowledge.
When poets or metaphysicians talk about the subject matter of the Perennial Philosophy, it is generally at second hand. But in every age there have been some men and women who chose to fulfil the conditions upon which alone, as a matter of brute
left
empirical fact, such immediate knowledge can be had; and of these a
few have and have
accounts of the Reality they were thus enabled to apprehend
tried to relate, in
one comprehensive system of thought, the given
facts of this experience with the given facts of their other experiences.
To
such first-hand exponents of the Perennial Philosophy those
who knew
them have generally given the name of

"enlightened one."
"saint" or "prophet," "sage" or
And
it is
mainly to these, because there
for supposing that they
knew what they were
talking about,
professional philosophers or
selections.
men
of letters, that I
good reason and not to the have gone for my

is
writings
In India two classes of scripture are recognized: the Shruti, or inspired which are their own authority, since they are the product of im-
mediate insight into ultimate Reality; and the Smriti, which are based
upon the Shruti and from them derive such authority as they have. "The Shruti," in Shankara's words, "depends upon direct perception. The
Smriti plays a part analogous to induction, since, like induction,
its
it
derives
from an authority other than itself." This book, then, is an anthology, with explanatory comments, of passages drawn from the Shruti and Smriti of many times and places. Unfortunately, familiarity with
authority
traditionally
hallowed writings tends to breed, not indeed contempt, but something which, for practical purposes, is almost as bad namely a kind of reverential insensibiUty, a stupor of the spirit, an inward deafness to
the
meaning of the sacred words. For

the
this reason,
when
selecting material
as
to illustrate
doctrines
of the Perennial Philosophy,
they were
The Perennial
Flight
I
183
formulated in the West,
have gone ahnost always to sources other than from which I have drawn, is based upon the Shruti of the canonical books, but has the great advantage of being less well known and therefore more vivid and, so to say, more audible than
the Bible. This Christian Smriti,
they are. Moreover much of this Smriti is the work of genuinely saintly men and women, who have qualified themselves to know at first hand what they are talking about. Consequently it may be regarded as being itself a form of inspired and self-validating Shruti and this in a much higher degree than many of the writings now included in the Biblical canon. In recent years a number of attempts have been made to work out a
system of empirical theology. But in spite of the subtlety and intellectual
power of such
writers as Sorley,
Oman
and Tennant, the

its
effort
has met
with only a partial success. Even in the hands of

empirical theology
is
ablest exponents
it
not particularly convincing.
The
reason,
me, must be sought

fined their attention
in the fact that the empirical theologians
seems to have con-
more or
less exclusively to the
experience of those
whom
is
the theologians of an older school called "the unregenerate"
that
to say, the experience of people
who have
not gone very far in
fulfilling
But it is a fact, confirmed and re-confirmed during two or three thousand years of religious history, that the ultimate Reality is not clearly and immediately apprehended, except by those who have made themselves loving, pure in heart and poor
the necessary conditions of spiritual knowledge.
in spirit. This being so,
it is
hardly surprising that a theology based upon
the experience of nice,

little
ordinary, unregenerate people should carry so

is
conviction. This kind of empirical theology
on
precisely the
same
in
footing as an empirical astronomy, based

observers.
upon
the experience of naked-eye
With the unaided eye a
small, faint
smudge can be detected
the constellation of Orion, and doubtless an imposing cosmological theory
could be based upon the observation of

galactic
this
such theorizing, however ingenious, could ever
smudge. But no amount of tell us as much about the
and extra-galactic nebulae
as
can direct acquaintance by means of

darkly glimpsed within the ordinary,
tell
a good telescope, camera and spectroscope. Analogously, no amount of

theorizing about such hints as
may be
unregenerate experience of the manifold world can

divine Reality as can be directly apprehended
us as
much about
it
by a mind
is
in a state of de-
tachment, charity and humility. Natural science

not confine
itself to
empurical; but
does
the experience of
human
beings in their merely
human
and unmodified condition.
Why
empirical theologians should feel them-
selves obliged to submit to this handicap, goodness only
knows.
And
all
of
course, so long as they confine empirical experience within these
too
human
efforts.
limits,
they are
doomed
to the perpetual stultification of their best
no mind, howmore than a set of possibilities or, at the very best, specious probabiUties. The self-validatmg certainty of direct awareness cannot in tiie very nature of things be achieved except by those
the material they have chosen to consider,
From
ever brilliantly gifted, can infer
2g4
ALDOUS HUXLEY
equipped with the moral "astrolabe of God's mysteries." If one is not oneself a sage or saint, the best thing one can do, in the field of metaphysics, were, and who, because they had is to study the works of those who modified their merely human mode of being were capable of a more than
merely
human
kind and amount of knowledge.
ST.
JOHN OF THE CROSS
Practical Advice to the Religious
St.
John of
the Cross (1542-1591), a Spanish Carmelite,
is
well
his mystical writings, but like his contemporary, St. Teresa,
whom
known for he knew

re-
well
and with
whom
he collaborated, he was also an active religious
former, and a thorn in the side of conservatives. His "Cautions" are practical advice to the religious who wish to attain a state which here sounds
very
much
like Aristotelian theoria, Stoic ataraxia,
Buddhist nirvana. For,

experience and
in spite of analogies
one can make between
this mystical
forms of ecstasy, the great preachers of mysticism (I put the matter unfairly when I use the word "preacher") do come out at something very austere, very unfleshly, yes, very unemotional in the Hollywood sense a sort of untroubled Puritanism that has won the "civil war of emotional in the breast." They can apparently forget, rather than condemn, the world,
fleshly
more
and can sometimes continue
to try to reform
it.
CAUTIONS
which any who would be a true religious and would quickly attain to perfection must needs bear ever in mind. Addressed to the Carmelite Nuns of Beas.
The
religious
who
desires to attain quickly to holy recollection, silence,
detachment and poverty of spirit, wherein is enjoyed the peaceful refreshment of the Holy Spirit and whereby the soul reaches union with God, and is freed from the hindrances of all creatures of this world, and is defended from the wiles and deceits of the devil and is disencumbered of itself, must needs practise the following instructions. With habitual care and with no further labour or other kind of exercise, failing not of his own part to do that which his state enjoins on him, he
spiritual
will progress very quickly to great perfection, gaining all the virtues together
and attaining
to holy peace.
Worlds. Translated from the critical and edited by E. Allison Peers, Vol.
From Saint John of the Cross, Complete edition of P. Silverio de Santa Teresa, C.D.,
Ill
(London: Burns Gates
& Washbourne
Ltd., 1935), pp. 220-226.
185
186
ST.
this
JOHN OF THE CROSS
To
end
it
must
first
be noted that the
evils
come from the enemies aforementioned namely, the world, the devil and the flesh. The world is the least difficult enemy. The devil is the hardest to understand. The flesh is the most tenacious of all and its assaults continue
for so long as the old
which the soul receives
man
if
exists.
it is
In order to conquer any of these three enemies,
necessary to con-
quer them
and,
all all
when
weakened, the other two are weakened: three are conquered, no more war remains in the soul.
three; and,
is
one
AGAINST THE WORLD

to thee,
In order to free thyself perfectly from the thou shalt use three cautions.
evil
which the world can do
Caution the First
The first caution is that for all persons thou shalt have equal love and equal forgetfulness, whether they be thy relatives or no; withdrawing thy heart from these as much as from those; more so, indeed, in some ways,
from thy kinsmen,
ever alive
lest flesh
and blood quicken with natural
love,
which
is
among kinsfolk, the which thou must ever mortify for spiritual perfection. Hold them all as strangers to thee; in this way thou dost serve them better than by setting upon them the affection which thou owest to God. Love not one person better than another or thou shall go astray, for he
worthy to be loved best, and thou knowest not if thou are equally forgetful of them all, as befits thee for holy recollection, thou shalt free thyself from going astray with respect to them, whether Uttle or much. Think not of them at all,
loves best
is
whom God
who
it is
that
God
best loveth. But
canst.
good things nor evil things; flee from them in so far as thou fairly And, if thou observe not this, thou hast not learned to be a religious, neither shalt be able to attain to holy recollection, nor to free thyself from
neither
the imperfections that
come
to thee hereby.
And
if
in this matter thou
one under some colour of good or of evil. In doing that which has been described lies security, for in no other way canst thou free thyself from the imperfections and evils which the soul obtains from creatures.
desire to allow thyself a certain licence, the devil will deceive thee in
in another, or thou wilt deceive thyself,
way or
Caution the Second

against the world is with respect to temporal blessHerein it is needful, if thou wouldst truly free thyself from this kind of evil and moderate the excesses of thine appetite, to abhor all kinds of possession and to have no care for them neither as to food, nor clothing, nor any other created thing, nor as to the morrow. Thou must direct this care to something higher, namely, to seeking the kingdom of God that is, to not failing God and the rest, as His Majesty says, shall be added
ings.
The second caution
Practical
Advice
to the Religions
187 be forgetful of
thee. In
unto
this
us.
For
He
that cares for the beasts will not
way
shalt
thou attain sUence and peace in the senses.
Caution the Third
The
third caution
is
very necessary
if
thou art to learn to guard thyself
from all evil with respect to the religious. Many, through not observing it, have not only lost the peace and blessing of their souls, but have fallen, and habitually fall, into many evUs and sins. This caution is that thou shouldst keep thyself with all diligence from setting thy thoughts upon what happens in the community, and still more from speaking of it. This may concern, or may have concerned, some religious in particular: thou shalt say naught of his character, or of his manner of life, or of any
in the convent
of his business,
sire to
however grave
it,
it
be, either under pretext of zeal or of de-
remedy
matters, save to that person to
whom
it is
right that thou
shouldst speak of
and
this at its
proper time. Nor shouldst thou ever be
shocked or marvel at aught that thou seest or hearest, but shouldst strive to keep thy soul in forgefulness of it all. For if thou desirest to consider any of these things, even though thou live among angels, many of them will seem to thee to be amiss, since thou wilt not understand the substance of them. Take thou here for an example Lot's wife, who, because she was troubled at the perdition of the Sodomites
and looked backward
to see
what was happening, was punished by God,

salt.
who
thou
turned her into a pillar of

live
By
this
understand
that,
even though
among
devils,
God
wUls thee to
live
among them
in such a
way
back in thy thought at their business, but abandon them wholly, striving to keep thy soul pure and sincere with God, undisturbed by thoughts either of one thing or of another. Thou mayest take it for certain that convents and communities will never be without some occasion of stumbling, since there are never wanting devils who strive to overthrow
that thou look not
the saints, and
God
And
if
thou keep not
permits this in order to exercise them and prove them. thyself, as has been said, as though thou wert not in
the house, thus canst never be a religious,
however much thou doest, nor nor free thyself from the evils attain to holy detachment and that lie herein. For, if thou do not this, however good may be thy intention and however great thy zeal, the devil will entrap thee either in one place or
recollection,
in another,
and thou
art already securely
entrapped when thou dost permit
thy soul to be distracted in any of these ways.

said
Remember
that
which
is
any man thinketh himself to be reUgious that man's religion is vain. This is to be underand bridleth not his tongue, stood no less of inward speech than of outward.
by the apostle
S.
James:
If
AGAINST THE DEVIL

in order to free himself
These three cautions should be used by him that aspires to perfection, from the devil, his second enemy. To this end it
188
ST.
that,
JOHN OF THE CROSS
must be noted
spiritual persons, the
pearance of what
is
the many wiles used by the devil to deceive most ordinary is that of deceiving them under an apgood and not under an appearance of what is evil; for
it.
among
he knows that
if
they recognize evil they will scarcely touch
And
thus
thou must ever have misgivings concerning that which seems good, when it is not commanded thee by obedience. Security and success in this matter
come from
taking proper counsel in
it.
Caution the First
when thou art so commanded by be moved to nothing, however good and full of charity it may seem, whether it be for thyself or for anyone within or without the house, without being ordered by obedience. In observing this thou gainest merit and security. Avoid attachment and thou shalt flee from the devil and from evils of which thou knowest not, but whereof God shall call for an account of thee in His time. And if thou observe not this caution, both in little things and in great, however successful thou seem to be, thou canst
Let the
first
caution, then, be that, save
obligation, thou
not fail, either to a small or to a great degree, to be deceived by the devil. And, although thou do no worse than fail to be ruled in all things by obedience, thou stray est and art therefore to be blamed; for God prefers obedience to sacrifice, and the actions of a reUgious are not his own but belong to obedience, and if thou withdraw them from obedience, thou wilt have to account them as lost.
Caution the Second
Let the second caution be that thou never consider thy superior as less if he were God, be the superior who he may, for to thee he stands in the place of God. And observe that the devil, the enemy of humility, meddles herein greatly. If thou consider thy superior as has been said, thou gainest and profitest greatly, but otherwise thy loss and harm are great. Keep thyself, therefore, with great vigilance from considering his character, his ways or his habits or any of his other characteristics, for, if thou do this, thou wilt do thyself the harm of exchanging Divine obedience for
than
human, by being moved, or not being moved, only by the visible characteristics of thy superior, instead of by the invisible God Whom thou servest in his person. And thy obedience wiU be vain, or will be the more unfruitful, if
thou take offence at any unpleasing characteristic in thy superior, or
rejoice
when thou
findest
him good and
pleasant.
For
I tell
thee that the
devil has ruined the perfection of a great multitude of religious
them
to consider these characteristics,
worth in
by causing and their obedience is of very httle the eyes of God, because they have considered these things and
If
not paid sole respect to obedience.

thine
thou
strive not until
thou come to
regard no one superior as of more importance than another, in so far as
own feelings are concerned, thou canst in no wise become a spiritual person nor keep thy vows well.
Practical
Advice to the Religions

Caution the Third
189
The
third caution aimed directly against the devil
is
that thou strive
ever to humble thy heart in
word and
in deed, rejoicing at the
good of
others as at thine own, and desiring that others be preferred to thyself in
and this with all thy heart. And in this way shalt thou overcome with good and shalt cast the devil far from thee and shalt have joy of heart; and strive thou to practise this most with respect to those who least attract thee. And know that, if thou practise it not thus, thou shalt not attain
all
things,
evil
to true charity neither shalt
make
progress therein.
And
that
love ever to be
is
taught by
all
men
rather than to desire to teach
him
least of
all.
AGAINST THE FLESH

quer himself and his sensual nature, which
Three further cautions should be observed by him that desires to conis his third enemy.
Caution the First
The
first
caution
is
that thou shouldst understand that thou hast

all
come
to
the convent only that

to free thyself
may
fashion thee and try thee.
And
thus, in order
from the imperfections and disturbances that may arise from the temperaments and habits of the religious, and to pluck advantage from every happening, thou must think that all who are in the convent are workmen who are to try thee, as in truth they are. For some have to fashion thee in thy words, others m thy deeds and others in thy thoughts; and thou must be subject to them in all things even as an image is subject to him that fashions it and to him that paints it and to him that gilds it. And, if thou observe not this, thou shalt not be able to overcome thy sensual nature and thy feelings, neither shalt thou be able to conduct
thyself well in the convent with the religious, nor shall attain holy peace
nor free thyself from
many
evils
and occasions of stumbling.
Caution the Second
The second caution is that thou never fail to perform any good works because of the lack of pleasure or sweetness that thou findest therein, if it be fit that they should be done in the service of Our Lord; neither perform
thou them only for the sweetness and pleasure that they give thee. On the contrary, it behooves thee equally to perform these and others that are distasteful to thee, for otherwise it is impossible for thee to gain constancy
and overcome thy weakness.

Caution the Third
ercises set his eyes
Let the third caution be that the spiritual man must never in his exupon that which is delectable in them and thence derive
190
attachment to them, and perform them for
jBee
ST.
this
JOHN OF THE CROSS

must seek
reason only; neither must he
from that which is that which is toilsome nature; and if thou do nor wilt win and attain
displeasing to
him
in them, but rather he
and
distasteful.
In this
way he
bridles his sensual
otherwise thou wilt neither lose the love of thyself,

the love of God.
MEISTER ECKHART
Idealism
Johannes Eckhart, called Meister Eckhart
(c.
1260-c. 1328), was a Ger-
man Dominican
mystic and philosopher whose work has seemed to
some
anti-Germans to be one of the roots of the persistent Germanic philosophical "idealism" they so dislike. The fragments here cited are probably authentic enough. Of course they don't sound much like Benjamin Franklin. But
that's the
way mystics
are.
FRAGMENTS
have
MEISTER ECKHART ALSO SAID: HUMILITY EXALTS GOD AND THE MORE I it, the more he is exalted and the more gently and sweetly his divine influence and gifts flow into me. That God is exalted by humiUty, I argue thus: The more I abase myself the higher God rises above me. Humility is like a well. The deeper the well the higher he will stand who stands on the top. Similarly, the deeper I dig down into humiUty the more exalted God becomes and the more gently and sweetly his divine influence pours into me. That is why I must exalt God by humility.
Meister Eckhart said:
We
should contrive not to need to pray to God,

.
. .
asking for his grace and divine goodness
but take
it
without asking.
The question has been

senses obey the mind.
raised as to whether
it
is
possible to
make
the
Meister Eckhart answered
it
by saying:
it.
If
the
mind
is
fixed
on God and
continues so, the senses will obey
It is like
hanging a needle on a magnet
and then another needle onto that, and so on. It might even be possible to suspend four needles from the magnet in this way. As long as the first
From Meister Eckhart, translated by Torchbooks, 1957), pp. 234-247, 251.
Raymond
B. Blakney
(New York: Harper

191
192
needle hangs onto the magnet, the rest will hang onto
MEISTER ECKHART
it,
but
is
if
the
first
drops
off, it
wUl
lose the rest.
And
so, as
long as the mind
firmly fixed
on God, the senses

the senses drop off
will obey it but when the mind drops away from God, from the mind and are unruly.
who can love God enough to take a handout of who can give a hundred dollars for God's sake. How do I explain that? Like this. It is the common opinion of all authorities that honor is worth more than any fleeting good. To give a hundred dollars for God's sake is therefore to make a big profit in honor and glory on the money; for the giver, offering the money with one hand, takes in more and better than he gave with the other; but when the poor man extends his hand
I
much
prefer a person
bread, to a person
to
beg the bread, he trades

sells.
his
honor
in exchange.
The
giver buys the
honor
the receiver
There
closer to
is
more
to
it
than that. The poor man, by taking the handout, gets
God
is
than he
who gave
the one hundred dollars for God's sake.
is proud of it but the taker has subdue his feelings and despise his status. The giver is much courted for his gifts whereas the beggar is despised and rejected for being a taker,
The
to
giver
glad to be so good-natured and
Meister Eckhart said: Grace comes only with the Holy

the Holy Spirit
Spirit. It carries
it is
on
its
back, Grace
It
is
not a stationary thing;
always
found
ately.
can only flow out of God and then only irmnediThe function of grace is to transform and reconvey [the soul] to God.
in a
Becoming.
Grace makes the soul godlike. God, the core of the

together.
soul,
and grace belong
In limpid souls
in him.
God
beholds his
own
image; he rests in them and they
As
have often
said, I like best those things in

all
which
I see
most
clearly
the Ukeness of God. Nothing in
creation
is
so hke
God
as stillness.
It is God's nature to be without a nature. To think of his goodness, or wisdom, or power is to hide the essence of him, to obscure it with thoughts about him. Even one single thought or consideration wiU cover it up. Such is the divine order of things, and when God finds this order in a soul he begets his Son, and the soul bursts into light with all its energy and from that energy, that light, there leaps a flame. That is love; and the soul, with
all its
energy, has penetrated to the divine order.
Idealism
193
pray for something,
I do not pray; when I pray for nothing, I ... To pray for anything except God might be called idolatry or injustice. Right prayer is prayer in spirit and in truth. When I pray for some person such as Henry or Conrad, I pray least, but when I pray for no one in particular, I pray most of all. Really to pray, one must want nothing, for as far as God is concerned there is neither Henry nor Conrad.
When
really pray.
When
one prays for what

it is
God
is
not, there
is
something wrong and
faithless
about the prayer and
a sign of immaturity.
As
I said
not long ago,
when
one puts something before God, he makes
God
nothing, and nothing, God.
When God
laughs at the soul and the soul laughs back at God, the per-
sons of the Trinity are begotten.
To speak
in hyperbole,
when
the Father
laughs to the Son and the Son laughs back to the Father, that laughter gives
pleasure, that pleasure gives joy, that joy gives love,
and love gives the
persons [of the Trinity] of which the Holy Spirit
is
one.
have spoken
is
at times of a light in the soul that is uncreated,
a light
that
in
not arbitrarily turned on. I
my
sermons, for
as
it
refers to
accustomed to hint at it frequently the immediacy of God, as undisguised and

[divine] act of begetting.
am
naked
he
is
by himself and to the

is
Thus
may
truthfully say that this light
rather to be identified with
God
than with
any [perceptive] power of the soul, even though it is essentially the same. You must know that within my psyche this hght takes no precedence over the least and coarsest of my faculties, such as hearing, or vision, or any other that can be influenced by heat or cold, hunger or thirst. This is due to the essential uniformity of the soul. Thus, if one refers the soul's agents back to the soul's essence, the agents are alike and of equal rank, but if the agents are referred to their functions, then some do rank above the others. Therefore, I say that to the extent a person can deny himself and turn away from created things, he wiU find his unity and blessing in that little spark in the soul, which neither space nor time touches. The spark is averse to creatures, and favorable only to pure God as he is in himself. It is not satisfied with the Father, nor the Son, nor the Holy Spirit, nor with all three
persons together, as long as their several properties are preserved.
the truth, this light
is
To
tell
not satisfied with the unity of this fruitful conception
though
It
of the divine nature, but I shall go further and say

I
am
really speaking the truth
that this light
what must sound strange is not satisfied by

this
the simple,
still,
motionless essence of the divine being that neither gives

interested in
nor takes.
It is
more
knowing where
still
essence
came from.
which no disneither the Father, the Son, nor the Holy Spirit. It tinction ever crept wants to get into the secret, to which no man is privy, where it is satisfied by a Light whose unity is greater than its own. This core is a simple stillness,
wants to penetrate the simple core, the
desert, into
194
which
all
is
MEISTER ECKHART
unmoved
life,
itself
is
but by whose immobility
all
things are
moved and
their
receive
that
to say, all people
center within themselves. That we, too,
who may
live
by reason and have
live so intelligently,
may God
help us.
Amen.
LEGEND
Meister Etkhart met a beautiful naked boy.
He He
asked him where he came from.
said: "I come from God." Where did you leave him?
"In virtuous hearts."
Where are you going? "To God." Where do you find him? "Where I part with all creatures."
Who
"A
"In
are you?
king."
is
Where
your kingdom?
that
my
heart."
Take care
"I shall."
no one divide
it
with you!
Then he led him to his cell. Take whichever coat you will. "Then I should be no king!"
And
For
he disappeared.
it
Who
was God himself was having a bit of
fun.
BLAISE PASCAL
Renunciation
polemicist, author of
(1623-1662) was a French mathematician, scientist, religious an unfinished apologia for Christianity known as the call it mildly conversion Pensees. He had in 1654 a mystical experience which he recorded in a fascinating document known as the Memorial. I give the Memorial as translated with comments and explanation, in a sympathetic recent life of Pascal by an English clergyman, Ernest Mortimer. Mr. Mortimer subtitles his book The Life and Work of a Realist, a use of "realist" which should suggest to the reader how far indeed we Westerners are from the kind of basic agreement on ultimates Professor Murray asks
Blaise Pascal
for in his Phi Beta
Kappa
address.
PASCAL'S
MEMORIAL
WHILE HE SO THOUGHT AND PRAYED THERE WAS GIVEN HIM THAT TIMELESS eternal moment (he meticulously timed it afterwards; it lasted two hours) which some are allowed. During that space or on that level (our language
is
not competent for

there
this
matter)
common
experience loses
is
its
opacity. It
is
still
and
still
real,
is
indeed
still
visible as
the
window through which
no longer looking upon it. No secular event, no away that which is seen and which is equally and eternally there whether it is seen or not; and the man who has seen is now permanently aware that pain, injustice, the defilements of guilt, the
a
man
looks; but he
earthly thing, can give or take
corrosion of time, failure, the brevity of
life, all
the lachrymae rerum, are inassail;
deed
still
present; sorrow can
still
move him,
temptation can stiU
but
they can never again assume their appearance of finality or their power to
crush the
spirit.
On emerging from the

were found
vision Pascal seized a paper

it
and wrote
at
headlong
speed an account, copying

after his death,
afterwards on to a piece of parchment. Both

into his doublet.
sewn
The parchment has been
From Ernest Mortimer, Blaise Pascal: The Life and Work of a Realist (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1959), pp. 123-125, 224-225.
195
196
lost;
BLAISE PASCAL
the paper original survives
among
the Pascal
MSS
together with a
careful copy
made by
Blaise's
nephew, the Abbe Louis Perier.

grace, 1654.
The year of Monday, 23rd. November, Feast

and of others
of S. Clement,
Pope and Martyr,

others.
in the
Martyrology
Vigil of S. Chrysogonus, Martyr,
and
From about
half-past ten in the evening until about half-
past twelve
FIRE
God
of
Abraham, God
of Isaac,
God
of Jacob, not of the
philosophers and savants

Certitude. Certitude. Feeling. Joy. Peace.
God
of Jesus Christ.
and Thy God be my God" Forgetfulness of the world and of everything except God He is to be found only in the ways taught in the Gospel Grandeur of the human soul Righteous Father, the world hath not known Thee, but I have known Thee
My God
"Thy God
shall
Joy, joy, joy, tears of joy

I have faUen from Him "They have forsaken Me, the Fountain of hving waters" My God, wilt Thou forsake me? May I not fall from Him for ever
This
is life
eternal, that they
might know Thee, the only
true
God, and Jesus Christ
Whom Thou has
sent
Jesus Christ Jesus Christ

I
have
fallen
away:
have
fled
from Him, denied

ever
Him
crucified
Him
in the Gospel and sweet Total submission to Jesus Christ and to my director Eternally in joy for a day's exercise on earth
We
hold
May I not fall from Him for Him only by the ways taught
Renunciation
total
I will
*
not forget
Thy word. Amen.*
L'an de grace 1654
lundi 23 novembre jour de St Clement pape et martyr et autres au martyrologe Veille de St Chrysogone martyr et autres Depuis environ dix heures et demie du soir jusques
environ minuit et demi
Feu
Dieu
d' Abraham,
Dieu
d' Isaac,
Dieu de Jacob.
Non
des philosophes et des savants
Renunciation
197
will continue to discuss the psychological clues
Men
have discussed and
afforded by this document. Aldous Huxley has remarked on the curious

alternation of devotional
the alternation of I'esprit and
and philosophical statements (in Pascalian terms, le cceur). Others have hesitated over the
orthodoxy of the phrase "God of Jesus Christ," or over Pascal's reasons for
dismissing the "philosophers and savants." Strowski
analysis of the
(who
gives a beautiful
fullness of the
whole Memorial), noting the accuracy and
Biblical quotations, observes, "Pascal has not lost his sang-froid."
Men
have picked out and dwelt upon the characteristic and significant words: Feu, certitude, joye, grandeur de I'dme humaine. They have asked whether
the Fire
is
a metaphor or an actual perception, and
if
a perception whether
present to the senses or only to the mind.
They have pondered over
the
meaning, for Pascal, of "renonciation totale et douce." All this is well and just and necessary. It is the duty of a biographer to scan and analyse the documents which throw light on his human subject,
and the Memorial is an incomparable human document. Nothing else that he wrote reveals him to us as this single page does. But its main interest
does not
lie
there.
main point? If Pascal was in fact alone in that and importance of his particular thoughts and personal reactions dwindle considerably, since they were based on some sort of illusion. If in fact Pascal was not alone there that night, then again
shall
this
How
we pose
room
that night, then the interest
the interest of his personal reactions dwindles to vanishing point, in the
presence of a more compelling interest.
Men
put pen to paper for
many
the writings of
men
It is a
there are
reasons and with many effects. Among some which convey a sort of claim, or con-
viction, or impression, that the writer as well as the
pen has been used as
an instrument.
tenable suggestion that such writings are,
on the whole,
Certitude, certitude, sentiment, joie, paix. Dieu de Jesus-Christ
meum et deum vestrum Ton Dieu sera mon Dieu. Oubli du monde et de tout hormis Dieu
Deutn
ne se trouve que par les voies enseignees dans I'evangile Grandeur de I'ame humaine. Pere juste le monde ne t'a point connu mais je t'ai connu. Joie joie joie pleurs de joie
Je m'en suis separe
Dereliquerunt
Mon
Dieu
me jontem aquae me quitterez-vous?
vivae
Que je n'en sois pas separe eternellement Cette est la vie eternelle qu'ils te connaissent Seul vrai Dieu et Celui que tu as envoye, Jesus-Christ Jesus-Christ Jesus-Christ Je m'en suis separe; je I'ai fui, renonce, crucifie. Que je n'en sois jamais separe. n ne se conserve que par les voies enseignees dans I'Evangile
Renonciation totale
et
douce
etc.
198
those which should
BLAISE PASCAL
command our
is
attention above
all
others, for they
may
be
evidential.
Outside Holy Writ
there, in
ing which conveys this impression with
any language of any age, any extant writmore immediacy than Pascal's
Memorial?
PART
III
THE WAY MEN ARE
Ill
The
Way Men
Are
IN THIS SECTION
WE
and enter
libraries,
literature. It is a section that
whole Usts been the inexhaustible concern of poet, dramatist, novelist, essayist, has indeed made the stuff of all the literary genres. Such discussion has the imprecision, the concreteness and the universal interest of another great human topic, the weather. AU I dare attempt here, once more, is to
of the range or spectrum of opinion on this pressing topic. I omit entirely currently popular semantic assertions that the phrase "human nature" is meaningless, has no "referent." I need refer only in passing to the richness of the field in folk-wisdom and stereotypes, of which one
ESCAPE FROM FORMAL PHILOSOPHY AND THEOLOGY, could embrace the content of whole of some publishing houses, for "human nature" has
show some
example is the statement, infuriating to most intellectuals, that change human nature." And this requires a more apologetic I have had to omit all scientific, or "social-scientific" attacks on note the problem of human nature, from phrenology and physiognomy through more respectable attempts at characterology by anthropologists like Sheldon (endomorphs, mesomorphs, ectomorphs) to the very useful achievements of modem psychology. (Freud I have to come to later, but not to him primarily for his views on human nature.) It would be sheer obscurantism
familiar
"you
can't
to question the very real achievements of
study of man. I give in

of this
my
list
of further
modern readmg
social scientists in the
suggestions at the end
begin to appreciate this work. however, and one of my main These social sciences are new indeed, purposes here is to give a long time-dimension to these problems of man's
book
titles
with which the reader
may
condition.
For such a purpose there is nothing like our literary heritage, in which is found a very great deal of wisdom about the human stuff, not formulated according to the canons of scientific method, but scattered, loaded with words that have most unscientific overtones, biased, only partly true and sometimes only partly wise. Even with this material, I must the novel, the drama, history, biography, all very rich leave much out indeed. I have begun with two ancient outbursts on man's nature, folto be
201
202
lowed
this
THE WAY MEN ARE

with samples of early
modem
estimates of
human
nature, in-
cluding perhaps proportionately an undue

genre, the aphorism or
amount from
is
that fascinating
maxim, which probably
in the balance too
rough
on us poor mortals. I then give three contemporary estimates, and end with four samplings of the single richest geme of all for our purposes, autobiographical writings. Reading autobiographies may not let us see ourselves as others see us, for as Lichtenberg says in an aphorism I cite later
(p. 229.)
"A book
is
a mirror:
when a monkey
looks
in,
look out"; but autobiographies can give us firsthand experience of many different kinds of men would like us to think they are like.
no apostle can what
SOPHOCLES
"What a Thing
Is
Man!"
tragic poet Sophocles (496-406 B.C.) has left us in this great chorus from the Antigone lines which have long been a sursum corda for "humanists" who find the Judaeo-Christian estimate of man's condition
The Greek
somewhat depressing and unduly pessimistic. The careful reader will note, however, that these lines are by no means the Chamber of Commerce kind of boosting optimism. Sophocles' old men come in their last verses to chide this marvelous creature man for his perversity. The word which Chapman and most others translate as "wonder" in the first two lines comes from a root, dein, which originally had overtones of "fear" in the
sense of a portent, an act of the gods, something remarkable but not humanly very comfortable. The full implication is that man is a fearsome
wonder.
What
a thing
is
man!
The wonder
of the world
Among all wonders is man himself.
He
scuds the angry pallor of the seas

the blast and chariot of the storm,
Upon
Cutting a pathway through the drowned waste.
He
stirs
and wears the unweariable Earth
The
eldest of his gods
with
shuttling ploughs
to year.
And
teams that
toil
and turn from year
Man
the Contriver!
Man the
master-mind
That with
his casting-nets
Of woven cunning
snares the light- wit birds;
And
savage brutes; and sea-swarms of the deep;
Yea, every wary beast that roams the hiUs Hath he subdued through excellence of wit.
Beneath
his eye the horse accepts the
yoke
stall.
And
From
the
mad mountain
bullock seeks his
Sophocles, Antigone. Translated by John Jay York: Houghton Mifflin Co., 1930), pp. 18-19.
Chapman (Boston and New

203
204
SOPHOCLES
Man
And
the Householder, the Resourceful,

the chill of the frozen sky;
Safe from the drench of the arrowy rain
The Inventor
of speech and soarmg thought, match for all things, competent, victorious Against Death only shall he call for aid,
And call in vain.

Yea, wondrous is man's Sagacity: Through this he cUmbeth on high. Through this also he falleth. In the confidence of his power he stumbleth; In the stubbomess of his will he goeth down.
WhUe he honoreth the laws of the land And that Justice which he hath sworn to maintain,
Proudly stands
his city.
But when rash counsels have mastered him, he dwells with Such a man hath no city. Never may he share my hearth, never thmk my thoughts,
perversity:
who doeth such
things.
ECCLESIASTES
Ecclesiastes, or
the
is
The Preacher, is one of the so-called "wisdom books" of Old Testament about which, as usual, scholars dispute a good deal. It certainly no paean of joy, but neither, as these concluding chapters sugit
gest, is
unrelieved pessimism, lightly cynical or heavy-handedly despair-
ing.
This kind of eloquent folk-pessimism is common enough in the Greek Hesiod, for instance among a folk who never knew The Affluent Society.
I suspect it has a kind of morally antiseptic value rather greater than that of the complaining of our currently alienated intellectuals. But moral antiseptics,
though no doubt highly ethical drugs, can't be manufactured.
Chapter 11
Cast thy bread upon the waters: for thou shalt find it after many days. 2 Give a portion to seven, and also to eight; for thou knowest not what
evil shall
be upon the earth.
empty themselves upon the earth: and if the tree fall toward the south, or toward the north, in the place where the tree falleth, there it shall be. 4 He that observeth the wind shall not sow; and he that regardeth the
3 If the clouds be full of rain, they
clouds shall not reap.

5 As thou knowest not what is the way of the spirit, nor how the bones do grow in the womb of her that is with child: even so thou knowest not the works of God who maketh all. 6 In the morning sow thy seed, and in the evening withhold not thine hand: for thou knowest not whether shall prosper, either this or that, or
whether they both shall be alike good. 7 % Truly the light is sweet, and a pleasant thing it is for the eyes to behold the sun: 8 But if a man live many years, and rejoice in them all; yet let him remember the days of darkness; for they shall be many. All that cometh is
vanity.
9 f Rejoice,
the days of thy youth,
young man, in thy youth; and let thy heart cheer thee in and walk in the ways of thine heart, and in the sight
of thine eyes: but

into judgment.
know
thou, that for
all
these things
God
will bring thee
10 Therefore remove sorrow from thy heart, and put away

flesh: for
evil
from thy
205
childhood and youth are vanity.
206
Chapter 12
ECCLESIASTES
Remember now
come
in them;
thy Creator in the days of thy youth, while the evil days
not, nor the years
draw
nigh,
when thou
shalt say, I
have no pleasure
2 While the sun, or the
light,
or the moon, or the
stars,
be not darkened,
nor the clouds return after the rain: 3 In the day when the keepers of the house shall tremble, and the strong men shall bow themselves, and the grinders cease because they are few, and
those that look out of the windows be darkened,
And
the doors shall be shut in the streets,
when
the sound of the

all
grinding
is
low, and he shall rise up at the voice of the bird, and
the
daughters of musick shall be brought low;

in the way,
they shall be afraid of that which is high, and fears shall be and the aknond tree shall flourish, and the grasshopper shall be a burden, and desire shall fail: because man goeth to his long home, and the mourners go about the streets: 6 Or ever the silver cord be loosed, or the golden bowl be broken, or the pitcher be broken at the fountain, or the wheel broken at the cistern. 7 Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was: and the spirit shall
5 Also
return unto
when
God who
gave
it.
8 f Vanity of vanities, saith the preacher; all is vanity. 9 And moreover, because the preacher was wise, he
still
taught the
people knowledge; yea, he gave good heed, and sought out, and set in
order
many
proverbs.
10 The preacher sought to find out acceptable words: and that which was written was upright, even words of truth. 11 The words of the wise are as goads, and as nails fastened by the masters of assemblies, which are given from one shepherd. 12 And further, by these, my son, be admonished: of making many
books there is no end; and much study is a weariness of the flesh. 13 t Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter: Fear God, and keep his commandments for this is the whole duty of man. 14 For God shall bring every work into judgment, with every secret thing, whether it be good, or whether it be evil.
:
FRANCOIS,
DUC
de
LA ROCHEFOUCAULD
Aphorisms
Frangois, due de
La Roehejoucauld (16131680)
is
is
one of the greatest
of aphorists.
cially
The aphorism
so
among
a favorite genre of the moralist, and espethe French. No doubt the aphorist, like the satirist, has to
rest of us; he has to try to show us the extent of the gap between what we think we are what we hope we are and what we actually are. No doubt the best aphorists, like La Rochefoucauld, are by no means without malice. I should not maintain that La Rochefoucauld,
be cleverer than the
Lichtenberg, or Nietzsche reports
human
behavior with the coolness and
animal a corner of a concealing cover and show us something underneath: that something is not by any means always nasty, and at any rate really is there. La Rochefoucauld himself was a nobleman who got involved in the confused civil war known as the Fronde, ended his political career with the failure of the revolt, and retired to compose his famous maxims. But his work is not explicable as compensation for balked ambition. These grapes are not sour most of us
objectivity of a trained naturalist recounting his observations of
behavior. I should maintain that they often
lift
find
them pleasantly
tart.
6: Passion often turns the cleverest
men
into idiots
and makes the
greatest blockheads clever.
y 19: ^ 25: y 26:

York:
We
It
all
have strength enough to endure the misfortunes of others.
takes greater character to carry off
good fortune than bad.
We
cannot look squarely at either death or the sun.

Translated by Louis Kronenberger Paperbacks, 1959), passim.
From La Rochefoucauld, Maxims. Random House, Modern Library
(New
208
f 35: Pride exists equally ways they manifest it.
FRANgOIS, DUC DE LA ROCHEFOUCAULD

in all
men; the only
difference lies in
what
^ 43: We think we lead when we are being led, and whUe making for one goal with our minds, are unconsciously drawn toward another by our
hearts.
y 68:
It is difficult to
define love: in the soul,
it is
thurst for
mastery;
in the mind, a
harmony
of thought; in the body, nothing but a delicately
hidden desire to possess, after
many
mysteries, whatsoever one loves.
^ 87:
another.
Men
would not
get
on
for long in society
if
they did not fool one
f 102: The mind
is
always the dupe of the heart.

mistress, the closer
f 111: The more one loves one's f 460:
one
is
to hating her.
We
far
from
is
realize all that
our passions make us do.
f 481: Nothing
have
it
rarer than real kindliness; even those
who
think they
are in general only obliging or weak.
^ 504: After discussing the
falsity of so
many seeming
virtues,
it
seems
our scorn of death. I mean that scorn of death which unbelievers boast of acquiring through their own inner strength, without hope of a hfe to come. There is a difference between
proper to say something about
how
false is
meeting death bravely and scorning it. The first is usual enough, but I doubt whether the second is ever sincere. Yet men have done their best to persuade us that death is no evU, and the greatest weaklings among them no less than the heroes have produced a thousand famous examples to bear out their contention. But I doubt whether any sensible person has ever believed it, and the trouble men take to persuade themselves and
others that
it
is
true
shows how
difficult
life,
it
is
to accept.
We may
it
have
many
death.
reasons for being disgusted with
we never have any

do not hold
for despising
Even those who choose
to kill themselves
cheap, and
are as shocked and resistant as the rest of us

in
some other form than they have chosen.
when it advances toward them The varying degrees of courage

strikes
that
we
note in
all sorts
of brave
men
derive
which death
strikes their imagination,
and
from the varying ways in it more forcibly at one
time than at another. Thus, after scorning what they are ignorant of they at length become frightened of what they know. If we would not judge
death the worst of

complexity.
all
misfortunes,
we must
avoid facing
it
in all
its
dire
The bravest and most

it
resourceful
soundest pretexts to avoid facing

as
it is
it,
but every
men are those who use the man who can see it exactly
finds
appalling.
The
certainty of death produced all the strong-
Aphorisms
:
209
mindedness of the old philosophers they deemed it best to go uncomplainingly where they could not avoid going; unable to immortalize their lives, they did all they could to immortalize their reputations, and to save from
shipwreck as
much
as
might be salvaged. Let us be content, for the sake

all
of appearances, with not even telling ourselves
we
think of death, and
put more faith in our temperaments than in those feeble arguments which would convince us that we can face death unconcernedly. The distinction
remembered fondly, the wish to leave an honored name, the certainty of shedding all life's ills and of being no longer buffeted by fortune, are consolations not to be rejected; but neither are they to be supposed unfailing helps. They offer much the same reassurance as a mere hedge can offer soldiers under fire: at a distance it seems ample protection, but close at hand provides almost useless shelter. We delude ourselves if we suppose that death, when imminent, is as we imagined it when remote, and that our feelings, shaky as they really are, are so finely tempered as to stand up under the severest of all trials. We also misjudge the force of self-love if we think it wUl help us set at naught the very thing that will destroy it; and reason, which we count on as so
of dying bravely, the hope of being
resourceful,
is
at
such a time too weak to provide the strength of mind
we
desire. Indeed,
it is
our minds which at such moments oftenest desert us
and, instead of inspiring us with scorn of death,
make
clear
how
fearful
away and contemplate other things. Cato and Brutus chose noble visions; a lackey, some time since, was content to dance on the scaffold when he was about to be broken
and
terrible
it is.
All they can do for us
is
bid us look
though the motives may differ, the effects are the same, so between great men and ordinary ones, on a see one sort meeting death like the other. But thousand occasions we
in pieces. Thus,
that whatever the disparity
always with this distinction:
when
great
men show
scorn for death,
it
is
a love of glory that distracts their minds from the truth;
when ordinary men
do
so,
it
is
because their lack of understanding shields them from the
gravity of their plight,
and leaves them
free to think of other things.
f 505: God has put as differing talents in man as trees in Nature; and each talent, like each tree, has its own special character and aspect. The finest pear tree in the world cannot produce the most ordinary apple, the
most splendid talent cannot duplicate the effect of the homeliest skill. Hence to wish to make maxims while lacking the proper touch is as absurd as expecting tulips to bloom where not even onions have been planted.
f 516: We should not be offended that other people conceal the truth from us, seeing how often we conceal it from ourselves.
f 519: Evil
results
from good, and good from
evil.
^ 563: Self-love is love of self and of everything for the self's sake: it makes men worship themselves and tyrannize, whenever the means are
210
to hand, over others. It finds
outside things as
no do bees among
and turning
rest outside itself
flowers, to feed
its
impetuous as
neuvers;
its
its
desires, so
deep-dyed as
is
and only pauses among upon them. Nothing is so schemes, so guileful as its maits
twisting
its
beyond words,
its
altered looks surpass
the chameleon's,
subtle blendings outdo the chemist's.
There
is
no plumbAll un-
ing the depths or piercing the darkness of
abysses; darting in and out of

itself.
them
it
escapes the sharpest eye and

it
is
often invisible even to
knowingly
breeds, nourishes, rears a variety of affections and hatreds, so monstrous that
some of them
when
it
has brought them to light
it fails
to
recognize or refuses to acknowledge them. Very strange are

night-begotten notions
it
some
of the
has of
itself,
while these in turn breed error,
ignorance, coarse feelings and

step
is
silly
thoughts on the subject.
The next
dead when they are merely dormant; to think it would run no longer as soon as it stops to rest; to think it has lost its taste when it has satisfied its craving. But the heavy veil that hides it from itself never prevents its seeing clearly what lies outside; in this it resembles our eyesight, which can see everything but our eyes. Indeed, in its most vital interests and concerns, where the violence of its desires exacts its whole attention, it sees and hears, feels and imagines, suspects, detects and guesses everything, enough to inspire the thought that each of its passions exerts a magic all its own. Nothing equals the tightness of its bonds, which it tries vainly to break on observing the disasters that threaten it. Yet it achieves on occasion, in short space and with no effort, what with all its resources it could not do over a period of years. It would thus seem that the desires of self-love are kindled, not by the glow or worth of what attracts it, but by its own efforts; that its own cravings create value and add embellishment; that what it pursues is itself, and that it is pleasing itself in seeking the things it finds pleasant. It is a mass of opposites: imperious and submissive, sincere and deceitful, compassionate and cruel, timid and bold. Its inclinations alter as do the moods that shape it, that incite it now toward glory, again toward wealth, yet again toward pleasure. Its inclinations alter with age, station, experience of life; but it cares not a whit whether they are single or many since, at need or at will, it can attend to all or concentrate on one. It is fickle and, quite beyond changes wrought from without, there are countless ones created from within; it is fickle from mere fickleness, from shallowness, from weariness, from love of novelty, from disgust; it is capricious, struggling at times with vast zeal and boundless effort to obtain things of no use to it, indeed of positive harm, but which it is driven to by desire. It is eccentric, and often turns itself inside out for trifles, exulting in the most insipid of them, proudest of the most contemptible. Living everywhere, off anything, off nothing, it is part of every aspect and circumstance of life; it adjusts to what it finds or what it fails to. It even joins the enemy army, enters into their plans and amazingly hates itself as they do, plots and helps perpetrate its own destruction. It wants, in brief, only to exist and so
for self-love to think
its
feelings
Aphorisms
long as
it
211
is
does
content to be
acquires and, to
its
its own enemy. No wonder then that it often own ruin, wears in pubUc a self-fortifying look, for in the
act of destroying itself in one place it restores itself in another. When it seems to have foresworn pleasure it has only deferred or redirected it, and even when beaten and apparently quite undone, it arises triumphant from its own defeat. There you have the portrait of self-love, whose whole life is an unflagging turmoU. The sea may be fairly compared to it, in the tireless ebb and flow of whose waves self-love finds an accurate image of its own
seething thoughts and
its
eternal restlessness.

The
third Earl of Shaftesbury
Characteristics of
(1671-1713) was an English moralist, whose Men, Manners, Opinions, and Times was a very popular
textbooks
book
like
in the eighteenth century. Shaftesbury is usually listed in the
as a sentimental optimist about
human nature, and certainly he

is
rarely
sounds
La Rochefoucauld. But he
no simple-minded
believer in the natural
goodness of man. He distrusts "enthusiasm" as did most of his Augustan colleagues. His is a kind of common-sense cheerfulness about the possibilities
of
life
on
this earth if
only
we
don't worry too
much about another
life.
EXPOSE ANY INFIRMITY OR VICE WERE A which is contrary, how excellent an age might we be presumed to live in! Never was there in our nation a time known, when foUy and extravagance of every kind were more sharply inspected or more wittily ridiculed. And one might hope at least from this good symptom, that our age was in no declining state, since whatever our distempers are, we stand so well affected to our remedies. To bear the being told of faults, is in private persons the best token of amendment. It is seldom that a public is thus disposed. For where jealousy of state, or the ill Uves of the great people, or any other cause, is powerful enough to restrain the freedom of censure in any part, it in effect destroys the benefit of it in the whole. There can be no impartial and free censure of manners where any peculiar custom or national opinion is set apart, and not only exempted from criticism, but even flattered with the highest art. It is only in a free nation, such as ours, that imposture has no privilege and that neither the credit of a court, the power of a nobility, nor the awfulness of a Church, can give her protection, or hinder her from being arraigned in every shape
IF
sufl&cient security for the virtue
THE KNOWING WELL
HOW TO
From Anthony, Earl of Shaftesbury, Characteristics of Men, Manners, Opinions, and Times. Rev. Walter M. Hatch, ed., Vol. I (London: Longmans, Green, 1870),
pp. 10-25.
212
213
and appearance.
It is true, this liberty
may seem
to run too far.
We may
So every one will say, when he himself is touched, and his opinion freely examined. But who shall be judge of what may be freely examined, and what may not? where liberty may be used, and where it may not? What remedy shall we prescribe to this in general? Can there be a better than from that liberty itself which is
perhaps be said to
make
ill
use of
it.
complained of?
If
men
if
are vicious, petulant, or abusive, the magistrate

ill, it is
may
do
correct them; but

better. Justness of
they reason
reason
still
must teach them
to
thought and
style,
refinement in maimers, good-breeding,
and politeness of every kind, can come only from the trial and experience what is best. Let but the search go freely on and the right measure of every thing will soon be found. Whatever humour has got the start, if it be unnatural, it cannot hold; and the ridicule, if iU placed at first, will certainly fall at last where it deserves. I have often wondered to see men of sense so mightily alarmed at the approach of any thing like ridicule on certain subjects, as If they mistrusted their own judgment. For what ridicule can lie against reason? Or how can
of
any one of the least justness of thought endure a ridicule wrong placed? Nothing is more ridiculous than this itself. The vulgar, indeed, may swallow any sordid jest, any mere droUery or buffoonery; but it must be a finer and truer wit which takes with the men of sense and breeding. How comes it to pass, then, that we appear such cowards in reasoning, and are so O! say we, the subjects are too grave. afraid to stand the test of ridicule? Perhaps so. But let us see first whether they are really grave or no; for in the manner we may conceive them, they may peradventure be very grave and weighty in our imagination, but very ridiculous and impertinent
in their
own nature. Gravity is of the very essence of imposture. It does not only make us mistake other things, but is apt perpetually almost to mistake itself. For even in common behaviour, how hard is it for the grave character
to
if
keep long out of the
limits of the
formal one?
We
can never be too grave,
we can be assured we are really what we suppose. And we can never too much honour or revere any thing for grave, if we are assured the thing is grave, as we apprehend it. The main point is, to know always true gravity
from the false. And this can only be, by carrying the rule constantly with us, and freely applying it not only to the things about us, but to ourselves. For if unhappily we lose the measure in ourselves, we shall soon lose it in every thing besides. Now, what rule or measure is there in the world, except in the considering of the real temper of things, to find which are truly serious, and what ridiculous? And how can this be done, unless by applying the ridicule, to see whether it wUl bear? But if we fear to apply this rule in any thing, what security can we have against the imposture of formality in all things? We have allowed ourselves to be formalists in one point; and the
same formality may

It is
rule as
it
pleases in
all
other.
not in every disposition that
We
must beforehand judge of
we are capacitated to judge of things. our own temper, and accordingly of other
214
things

which
fall
under our judgment. But we must never more pretend to own temper in judging them, when we have given up our preliminary right of judgment, and, under a presumption of gravity, have allowed ourselves to be most ridiculous, and to admire profoundly the most ridiculous things in nature, at least for aught we know; for having
judge of things, or of our
resolved never to try,
we can
never be sure.
Ridiculum
Fortius at melius
acri
magnas plerumque
is
secat res.^
This,
my
Lord,
may
safely aver,
so true in
itself,
and so well known
for truth
by the cunning
formalists of the age, that they can better bear to
have
their impostures railed at, with all the bitterness
and vehemence imagthis
inable, than to
have them touched ever so gently in
other way.
They
know
very well that as modes and fashions, so opinions, though ever so
ridiculous, are kept
up by solemnity, and that those formal notions, which grew up probably in an ill mood, and have been conceived in sober sadness, are never to be removed but in a sober kind of cheerfulness, and by a more easy and pleasant way of thought. There is a melancholy which accompanies
all
enthusiasm.^
Be
it
love or religion (for there are enthusiasms in both),

till
nothing can put a stop to the growing mischief of either,
the melancholy
be removed, and the mind at ridiculousness of an extreme

It
liberty to in either
hear what can be said against the
way.
was heretofore the wisdom of some wise nations to let people be fools as much as they pleased, and never to punish seriously what deserved only to be laughed at, and was, after all, best cured by that innocent remedy. There are certain humours in mankind which, of necessity, must have vent. The human mind and body are both of them naturally subject to commotions; and as there are strange ferments in the blood, which in many bodies
occasion an extraordinary discharge, so in reason, too, there are heterogeneous particles which must be thrown off by fermentation. Should physicians
endeavour absolutely to
allay those ferments of the body,
and
strike in the
humours which discover themselves in such eruptions, they might, instead of making a cure, bid fair perhaps to raise a plague, and turn a spring ague, or an autumn surfeit, into an epidemical malignant fever. They are certainly as ill physicians in the body-politic, who would needs be tampering with
these mental eruptions, and, under the specious pretence of healing this
itch of superstition,
should set
all
and saving souls from the contagion of enthusiasm, nature in an uproar, and turn a few innocent carbuncles into
an inflammation and mortal gangrene.

pedition to the Indies, found
when he accompanied Bacchus in an exmeans to strike a terror through a host of enemies, by the help of a small company, whose clamours he managed to
read in history, that Pan,
We
1 The light touch often solves knotty problems better and more forcefully than the heavy. Horace, Satires, I, x, 14. 2 It must be borne in mind that Shaftesbury is using "enthusiasm" in a bad sense, as a form of a disordered imagination.
215
vale.
good advantage among the echoing rocks and caverns of a woody

and desert
places, raised such a horror in the
The
hoarse bellowing of the caves, joined to the hideous aspect of such dark
enemy, that in
this state their
imagination helped them to hear voices, and doubtless to see forms too,
which were more than human, whilst the uncertainty of what they feared made their fear yet greater, and spread it faster by implicit looks than any narration could convey it. And this was what in after times men called a panic. The story indeed gives a good hint of the nature of this passion, which can hardly be without some mixture of enthusiasm, and horrors of a
superstitious kind.
One may,
with good reason,
call
every passion panic which

it
is
raised in a
multitude, and conveyed by aspect, or, as
were, by contact or sympathy.

people, as
especially
Thus, popular fury may be called panic, when the rage of the we have sometimes known, has put them beyond themselves
where reUgion has had to do. And, in this state, their very looks are infectious. The fury flies from face to face, and the disease is no sooner seen than caught. They who, in a better situation of mind, have beheld a multitude under the power of this passion, have owned that they saw in the countenances of men something more ghastly and terrible than at other times is expressed on the most passionate occasions. Such force has society, in ill as well as in good passions, and so much stronger any affection is for being social and communicative. Thus, my Lord, there are many panics in mankind, besides merely that of fear. And thus is religion also panic, when enthusiasm of any kind gets up, as oft, on melancholy occasions, it will; for vapours naturally rise, and in bad times especially, when the spirits of men are low, as either in public calamities, or during the unwholesomeness of air or diet, or when convulsions happen in nature, storms, earthquakes, or other amazing prodigies: at this season the panic must needs run high, and the magistrate of necessity give way to it. For, to apply a serious remedy, and bring the sword, or fasces, as a cure, must make the case more melancholy, and increase the very cause of the distemper. To forbid men's natural fears, and to endeavour the overpowering them by other fears, must needs be a most unnatural method. The magistrate, if he be any artist, should have a gentler hand, and instead of caustics, incisions, and amputations, should be using the softest
balms, and, with a kind sympathy, entering into the concern of the people,
and taking, as it were, their passion upon him, should, when he has soothed and satisfied it, endeavour, by cheerful ways, to divert and heal it. This was ancient poUcy; and hence, as a notable author of our nation expresses it, it is necessary a people should have a public leading in Rehgion. For to deny the magistrate a worship, or take away a National Church, is as mere enthusiasm as the notion which sets up persecution. For why should there not be public walks as well as private gardens? Why not public libraries as well as private education and home-tutors? But to prescribe bounds to fancy and speculation, to regulate men's apprehensions, and reUgious
216
beliefs or fears, to suppress
by violence the natural passion of enthusiasm, it, or reduce it to one species, or bring it under any one modification, is in truth no better sense, nor deserves a better character, than what the comedian declares of the like project in the affair of
or to endeavour to ascertain love
Nihilo plus agas des operam, ut cum ratione insanias.^
all
Quam
Not only
si
the visionaries and enthusiasts of
kinds were tolerated, your
side, philosophy had as and was permitted as a balance against superstition; and whilst some sects, such as the Pythagorean and latter Platonic, joined in with the superstition and enthusiasm of the times, the Epicurean, the Academic, and others, were allowed to use all the force of wit and raillery against it. And thus matters were happily balanced. Reason had fair play; learning and science flourished. Wonderful was the harmony and temper which arose from all these contrarieties. Thus superstition and enthusiasm were mildly treated, and being let alone, they never rose to that degree as
Lordship knows, by the ancients, but, on the other
free a course,
to occasion bloodshed, wars, persecutions,
and devastations
in the world.
and conand happiness of men rather than the present, has made us leap the bounds of natural humanity, and, out of a supernatural charity, has taught us the way of plaguing one another most devoutiy. It has raised an antipathy which no temporal interest could ever do, and entailed upon us a mutual hatred to all eternity; and now uniformity in opinion (a hopeful project!) is looked on as the only expedient against this evil. The saving of souls is now the heroic passion of exalted spirits, and is become in a manner the chief care of the magistrate, and the very end of government itself.
sort of policy,
itself
But a new
which extends
to another world,
siders the future hves
If
magistracy should vouchsafe to interpose thus

afraid
much
in other sciences, in every
am
we should have
is
as
bad
logic, as
bad mathematics, and
kind as bad philosophy, as

precise orthodoxy
settle wit. If it
we
often have divinity in countries where a

It is
settled
by law.
a hard matter for a government to

it is
does but keep us sober and honest,
likely
as
much
ability in
our spiritual as in our temporal
affairs;
and,
we shall have if we can but
lies in
be trusted, we shall have wit enough to save ourselves, when no prejudice the way. But if honesty and wit be insufficient for this saving work, it is in vain for the magistrate to meddle with it, since, if he be ever so virtuous or wise, he may be as soon mistaken as another man. I am sure the only way
to save men's sense, or preserve wit at all in the world,
wit.
is
to give liberty to
is
Now
is
wit can never have
its
hberty, where the freedom of raillery
taken away; for against serious extravagancies, and splenetic humours,

there
^
no other remedy than

will
this.
You
no more succeed than

I,
if
you sought to go sensibly mad. Terence,
Eunuch, Act
scene
i.
217
We
have indeed
full
power over
all
other modifications of spleen.
may treat
wit, the
other enthusiasms as
we
please.
We We may ridicule love or gallantry,

find that, in these latter days of
or knight errantry, to the utmost; and
we
which was once so prevalent, is pretty well the rescuing of Holy Lands, and such devout gallantries, are in less request than formerly. But, if something of this militant religion, something of this soul-rescuing spirit and saint-errantry prevails still, we need not wonder, when we consider in how solemn a manner we treat this distemper, and how preposterously we go about to cure enthusiasm. I can hardly forbear fancying, that if we had a sort of inquisition, or formal court of judicature, with grave ofiicers and judges, erected to restrain poetical licence, and in general to suppress that fancy and humour of versification, but in particular that most extravagant passion of love, as it is set out by poets, in its heathenish dress of Venuses and Cupids; if the poets, as ringleaders and teachers of this heresy, were, under grievous penalties, forbid to enchant the people by the vein of rhyming; and if the people, on the other side, were, under proportionable penalties, forbid to hearken to any such charm, or lend their attention to any love-tale, so much as in a play, a novel, or a ballad, we might perhaps see a new Arcadia arising out of this heavy persecution: old people and young would be seized with a versifying spirit: we should have field-conventicles of lovers and poets: forests would be filled with romantic shepherds and shepherdesses, and rocks resound with echoes of hymns and praises offered to the powers of love. We might indeed have a fair chance, by this management, to bring back the whole tram of heathen gods, and set our cold northern island burning with as many altars to Venus and Apollo, as were formerly in Cyprus, Delos, or any of those warmer Grecian climates.
kind,
humour of this declined. The Crusades,
BERNARD MANDEVILLE
Honor
Bernard Mandeville (c. 1670-1733), a Dutchman by birth, trained in medicine at Leyden University, emigrated to England and made his career there. His Fable of the Bees (1714) was a succes de scandale, declared a nuisance by a Middlesex grand jury. Its thesis is well indicated by its subtitle. Private
Vices, Public Benefits.
The "view
of life" reflected in the
book
is
not unlike
that of Machiavelli's Prince as generally interpreted: our high ethical stand-
ards are a false front, which conceals in most of us even from ourselves our solid and useful immoral practice. Mandeville' s tone is often insuperably
bright, omniscient,
it
and patronizing. I do not think it can be maintained, as can be for Machiavelli, that he was really an "inverted idealist," a moralist outraged by what should outrage us all. At bottom, his stance reminds me of the late H. L. Mencken's: men are boobs thank God!
. .
.
NOTHING WAS MORE INSTRUMENTAL IN FORWARDING THE REFORMATION, than the sloth and stupidity of the Roman clergy; yet the same Reformation has roused them from the laziness and ignorance they then laboured under, and the followers of Luther, Calvin, and others, may be said to have reformed not only those whom they drew in to their sentiments, but likewise those who remained their greatest opposers. The clergy of England by being severe upon the Schismatics, and upbraiding them with want of
learning, have raised themselves such formidable enemies as are not easily answered; and again, the dissenters by prying into the lives, and diligently watching all the actions of their powerful antagonists, render those of the
established church
more cautious
of giving offence, than in
all
probability
they would,
if
they had no malicious overlookers to fear.
It is
very
much
owing
solute
to the great
number
since the late utter
Huguenots that have always been in France, extirpation of them, that that kingdom has a less disof
country.
and more learned clergy to boast of than any other Roman Catholic The clergy of that church are nowhere more sovereign than in
Garman,
ed.
From Bernard Mandeville, The Fable of the Bees, Douglas Wishart, 1934), pp. 81-85, 103-106.
218
(London:

Italy,
Honor
219
and therefore nowhere more debauched; nor anywhere more ignoris nowhere less opposed. Who would imagine, that virtuous women, unknowingly should be instrumental in promoting the advantage of prostitutes? Or (what still seems the greater paradox) that incontinence should be made serviceable to the preservation of chastity? And yet nothing is more true. A vicious young fellow, after having been an hour or two at church, a ball, or any other assembly, where there is a great parcel of handsome women dressed to the best advantage, will have his imagination more fired than if he had the same
ant than they are in Spain, because their doctrine
time been poling at Guildhall, or walking in the country

sheep.
among a
flock of
The consequence
it is
of this
is,
that he
wiU
strive to satisfy the ap-
petite that is raised in
him; and when he finds honest
women
obstinate and
uncomatable,
are
very natural to think, that he will hasten to others that
more compilable.
fault of the virtuous
Who would so much women? They have no
as surmise, that this
is
the
thoughts of
men
in dressing
themselves, poor souls, and endeavour only to appear clean and decent,
everyone according to her quality.
would be an unspeakable from it; but I am afraid it is impossible: the passions of some people are too violent to be curbed by any law or precept; and it is wisdom in all govI
am
far
from encouraging
if
vice,
and think
it
felicity to
a state,
the sin of uncleanness could be utterly banished
ernments to bear with lesser inconveniencies to prevent greater. If courtesans and strumpets were to be prosecuted with as much rigour as some silly
people would have
in general
it,
what locks or bars would be

it is
sufficient to preserve
the honour of our wives and daughters? For
not only that the
women
to
would meet with
far greater temptations,
and the attempts
ensnare the innocence of virgins would seem more excusable even to the
sober part of mankind than they do now: but some
rageous, and ravishing would
men would grow

Where
six or
out-
become a common
it
crime.
seven
that
to
if
thousand
sailors arrive at once, as
often happens at
Amsterdam,
have seen none but their be supposed that honest

there were
own sex women
for
many months
together,
how
is it
should walk the streets unmolested,
no harlots
to
be had
at reasonable prices?
wise rulers of that well-ordered city always tolerate

of houses, in which
stable;
For which reason the an uncertain number
women
are hired as publicly as horses at a livery
and there being in this toleration a great deal of prudence and economy to be seen, a short account of it will be no tiresome digression. In the first place the houses I speak of are allowed to be nowhere but in the most slovenly and unpolished part of the town, where seamen and strangers of no repute chiefly lodge and resort. The street in which most of them stand is counted scandalous, and the infamy is extended to all the neighbourhood round it. In the second, they are only places to meet and bargain in, to make appointments, in order to promote interviews of greater secrecy, and no manner of lewdness is ever suffered to be transacted in them; which order is so strictly observed, that bar the ill-manners and
220
noise of the
BERNARD MANDEVILLE
company
that frequent them,
you
will
meet with no more
indecency, and generally less lasciviousness there, than with us are to be seen at a playhouse. Thirdly, the female traders that come to these evening
exchanges are always the scum of the people, and generally such as in the daytime carry fruit and other eatables about in wheelbarrows. The habits
indeed they appear in at night are very different from their ordinary ones;
yet they are
commonly
so ridiculously gay, that they look
more
like the
if
Roman
dresses of stroUing actresses than gentlewomen's clothes;
to this
you add the awkwardness, the hard hands, and coarse breeding of the damsels that wear them, there is no great reason to fear, that many of the better sort of people will be tempted by them. The music in these temples of Venus is performed by organs, not out
worshipped in them, but the frugaUty of the much found for as little money as they can, and the policy of the government, which endeavours as little as is possible, to encourage the breed of pipers and scrapers. AU seafaring men, especially the Dutch, are like the element they belong to, much given to loudness and roaring, and the noise of half-a-dozen of them, when they
is
of respect to the Deity that
owners, whose business
it is
to procure as
call
themselves merry,
is
sufficient to
drown twice
the
number
of flutes or
violins;
whereas with one pair of organs they can make the whole house ring, and are at no other charge than the keeping of one scurvy musician, which can cost them but little; yet notwithstanding the good rules and strict
discipUne that are observed in these markets of love, the Schout and his
ofl&cers are always vexing, mulcting, and upon the least complaint removing the miserable keepers of them: which policy is of two great uses;
first it
gives an opportunity to a large parcel of officers, the magistrates
make
many occasions and which they could not be without, to squeeze a living out of the immoderate gains accruing from the worst
use of on
of employments, and at the
the
same time punish those necessary profligates, bawds and panders, which, though they abominate, they desire yet not wholly to destroy. Secondly, as on several accounts it might be dangerous to let the multitude into the secret, that those houses and the trade that is drove in them are connived at, so by this means appearing unblameable, the wary magistrates preserve themselves in the good opinion of the weaker sort of people, who imagine that the government is always endeavouring, though unable, to suppress what it actually tolerates: whereas if they had a mind to rout them out, their power in the administration of justice is so sovereign and extensive, and they know so well how to have it executed, that one week, nay one night, might send them all a packing. In Italy the toleration of strumpets is yet more barefaced, as is evident from their public stews. At Venice and Naples impurity is a kind of merchandize and traffic; the Courtesans at Rome, and the Cantoneras in Spain, compose a body in the state, and are under a legal tax and impost. It is well known, that the reason why so many good poUticians as these tolerate
lewd houses,
is
not their irreligion, but to prevent a worse
evil,
an impurity
Honor
221
of a more execrable kind, and to provide for the safety of women of honour. About two hundred and fifty years ago, says Monsieur de St. Didier, Venice being in want of courtesans, the Republic was obliged to procure a great number from foreign parts. Doglioni, who has written the memorable affairs of Venice, highly extols the wisdom of the Republic in this point, which secured the chastity of women of honour daily exposed to pubUc violences,
the churches and consecrated places not being a sufl&cient asylum for their
chastity.
Our universities in England are much belied if in some colleges there was not a monthly allowance ad expurgandos Renes; and time was when the monks and priests in Germany were allowed concubines on paying a certain yearly duty to their Prelate. It is generally believed, says Monsieur Bayle (to whom I owe the last paragraph) that Avarice was the cause of this shameful indulgence; but it is more probable their design was to prevent
modest women, and to quiet the uneasiness of husbands, whose resentments the clergy do well to avoid. From what has been said it is manifest, that there is a necessity of sacrificing one part of womankind to preserve the other, and prevent a filthiness of a more heinous nature. From whence I think I may justly conclude (what was the seeming paradox I went about to prove) that chastity may be supported by incontinence, and the best of virtues want the assistance of the worst of vices.
their tempting
. .
.
Clothes were originally
made
for two ends, to hide our nakedness,
and
to fence our bodies against the weather,
else but our boundless pride has added a third, an excess of stupid vanity, could have prevailed upon our reason to fancy that ornamental, which must continually put us in mind of our wants and
and other outward injuries: which is ornament; for what
to these
misery, beyond
It is
all
other animals that are ready clothed by nature herself?
indeed to be admired
how
so sensible a creature as man, that pretends
to so
many
fine quahties of his
own, should condescend to value himself
upon what is robbed from so innocent and defenceless an animal as a sheep, or what he is beholden for to the most insignificant thing upon earth, a dying worm; yet whilst he is proud of such trifling depredations, he has the folly to laugh at the hottentots on the furthest promontory of A f rick, who
adorn themselves with the guts of their dead enemies, without considering
that they are the ensigns of their valour those barbarians are fine with, the
true spolia opima, and that
if
their pride
certainly less ridiculous, because they
be more savage than ours, it is wear the spoils of the more noble
animal.
may be made on this head, the world has long handsome apparel is a main point, fine feathers make fine birds, and people where they are not known, are generaUy honoured according to their clothes and other accoutrements they have about them; from the richness of them we judge of their wealth, and by
But whatever
reflections
since decided the matter;
222
their ordering of
BERNARD MANDEVILLE
them we guess
at their understanding. It is this
little
which anyways able to wear clothes above his rank, especially in large and populous cities, where obscure men may hourly meet with fifty strangers to one acquaintance, and consequently have the pleasure of being esteemed by a vast majority, not as what they are, but what they appear to be; which is a greater temptation than most people want to be vain. Whoever takes deUght in viewing the various scenes of low life, may on Easter, Whitsuntide, and other great holidays, meet with scores of people, especially women, of almost the lowest rank, that wear good and fashionable clothes: if coming to talk with them, you treat them more courteously and with greater respect than what they are conscious they deserve, they will commonly be ashamed of owning what they are; and often you may, if you are a httle inquisitive, discover in them a most anxious care to conceal the business they follow, and the places they live in. The
encourages everybody,
who
is
conscious of his
merit,
if
he
is
reason
is
plain; whilst they receive those civilities that are not usually paid
satis-
them, and which they think only due to their betters, they have the
faction to imagine, that they appear
which to weak minds is a pleasure almost as substantial as they could reap from the very accomplishments of their wishes. This golden dream they are unwilling to be disturbed in, and being sure that the meanness of their condition, if it is known, must sink them very low in your opinion, they hug themselves in their disguise, and take all imaginable precaution not to forfeit by a useless discovery the esteem which they flatter themselves that their good clothes have drawn from you. Though everybody allows, that as to apparel and manner of living, we ought to behave ourselves suitable to our conditions, and follow the examples of the most sensible and prudent among our equals in rank and fortune: yet how few, that are not either miserably covetous, or else proud of singularity, have this discretion to boast of? We all look above ourselves,
what they would
be,
and, as fast as
superior to us.
we
can, strive to imitate those, that
some way or other
are
The poorest
wholesome
to purchase a
labourer's wife in the parish,
who
scorns to wear a strong,
frieze, as
she might, will half-starve herself and her husband

petticoat, that
secondhand gown and

it is
service; because, forsooth,
more
genteel.
The weaver,
cannot do her half the the shoemaker,
the tailor, the barber, and every mean, working fellow, that can set
up
with
little,
has the impudence with the
first
money he
gets, to dress himself
like a
tradesman of substance: the ordinary
retailer in the clothing of his
same commodity by wholesale, and the reason he gives for it, is, that twelve years ago the other had not a bigger shop than himself. The druggist, mercer, draper and other creditable shopkeepers can find no diflêrence between themselves and merchants, and therefore dress and live like them. The merchant's
wife, takes pattern
from
his neighbour, that deals in the
lady,
who cannot
bear the assurance of those mechanics,
flies
for refuge

to the other
Honor
223
end of the town, and scorns to follow any fashion but what she from thence. This haughtiness alarms the court, the women of quality are frightened to see merchants' wives and daughters dressed like themselves; this impudence of the city, they cry, is intolerable; mantuamakers are sent for, and the contrivance of fashions becomes all their study, that they may have always new modes ready to take up, as soon as those saucy cits shall begin to imitate those in being. The same emulation
takes
is
continued through the several degrees of quality to an incredible expense,

at last the prince's great favourites
left to outstrip
till
and those of the
first
rank of
all,
having nothing else

out vast estates in
some
of their inferiors, are forced to lay

furniture,
pompous equipages, magnificent
sumptuous
it is
gardens and princely palaces.
To
this
emulation and continual striving to outdo one another
owing,
that after so
many
various shiftings and changings of modes, in trumping
up new ones and renewing of old ones, there is still a plus ultra for the it is this, or at least the consequence of it that sets the poor to work, adds spurs to industry, and encourages the skilful artificer to search
ingenious;
after further
improvements.
JEAN
de
LA BRUYERE
of Character
Varieties
Jean de La Bruyere (16451696) was a French moralist whose Les caracteres, constantly expanded during his life, was undertaken in imitation of
the
work of Theophrastus, a Greek pioneer in characterology La Bruyere' work is essentially aphoristic, and his estimate of human nature rather more amused and amusing than indignant. Still, he is clearly a moraliste in the
.
great French tradition.
LET us NOT BE ANGRY WITH MEN WHEN WE SEE THEM CRUEL, UNGRATEFUL, unjust, proud, egotists, and forgetful of others; they are made so; it is their
nature;
or with a
we might just as well quarrel with fire when the flames ascend.
a stone for falling to the ground,
In one sense
men
are not fickle, or only in
trifles;
they change their habits,
language, outward appearance, their rules of propriety, and sometimes their

taste;
but they always preserve their bad morals, and adhere tenaciously to
is ill
what
and
is
to their indifference for virtue.
Stoicism
a mere fancy, a fiction, like Plato's Republic.
The
Stoics pre-
tend a
man may
laugh at poverty; not feel
insults, ingratitude, loss of
prop-
on death, and regard it as a matter of indifference which ought neither to make him merry nor melancholy; not let pleasure or pain conquer him; be wounded or burned without breathing the slightest sigh or shedding a single tear; and this phantasm
erty, relatives,
and
friends; look unconcernedly
of courage and imaginary firmness they are pleased to call a philosopher.
They have
blame
ridiculous,
left
man
his smallest foible. Instead of depicting vice as
with the same faults they found in him, and did not something terrible or
perfection and heroism of which

to
aim
at
which might have corrected him, they have limned an idea of man is not capable, and they exhorted him what is impossible. Thus, the philosopher that is to be, but wUl Van Laun (London:
Jean de La Bruyere, The "Characters." Translated by Henri
John C. Nimmo, 1885), pp. 271-273, 282-288. 224
225
never exist except in imagination, finds himself naturally, and without any
all events and all ills; the most excruciating most severe attack of colic, cannot draw from him the least complaint; Heaven and earth may be overturned, without dragging him along in their downfall; and he remains calm and collected amidst
exertions of his own, above
fit
of the gout, the
the ruins of the universe, whilst a
man
is
really beside himself utters
loud
exclamations, despairs, looks fierce, and
in
an agony for the
loss of a
dog
or for a China dish broken into pieces.

Restlessness of mind, inequality of temper, fickleness of affections, and
instability of conduct, are all vices of the
mind, but they are
all different;
and, in spite of their appearing analogous, are not always found in one and
the
same
subject.
It is difficult to
decide whether irresolution makes a

it is
man more
unfortu-
nate than contemptible, or even whether

to take a
always a greater disadvantage
wrong
step than to take
none
at
all.
not one man, but several men in one; he he changes his taste and manners; he is not this minute what he was the last, and will not be the next what he is now; he is his own successor. Do not ask what is his nature, but what are his proclivities; nor what mood he is in, but how many sorts of moods he has. Are you not mistaken, and is it Eutichrates whom you accost? To-day he is cool to you, but yesterday he was anxious to see you, and was so demonstrative that his friends were jealous of you. Surely he does not remember you; tell him your name.
of variable
man
mind
is
multiplies himself as often as
Impoliteness
is
not a vice of the mind, but the consequence of several
vices; of foolish vanity, of ignorance of one's duties, of idleness, of stupidity,
of absence of mind, of contempt for others, and of jealousy.
Though
it
only
shows
is
itself
outwardly,
it is
not the less odious, because

it
it is
a fault which
always visible and manifest; however,

it
according as the motives for displaying
are
gives more or less offence, more or less offensive.
If
we
say of an angry, captious, quarrelsome, melancholy, formal, capriit is
cious person, that
all
owing
to his temper,
for him, whatever people
may
think, but
it is not to find an excuse an involuntary acknowledgment
that such great faults admit of
no remedy.
is
What we
appear to be
call
good temper
if
a thing too
much
neglected
among men;
they ought to understand that they should not alone be good, but also
so, at least
they are inclined to be sociable and disposed to
if they would be men. We do not be gentle and urbane; in these qualities they are never wanting, for they employ them to ensnare the simple, and to find a
friendly intercourse; in other words,
require wicked
men
to
226
larger field for their operations; but
JEAN DE LA BRUYERE
we wish kind-hearted men always to be tractable, accessible, and courteous; so that there should no longer be any reason for saying that wicked men do harm and that good men make
others uncomfortable.
The
generality of
men
ently, for they first give offence
proceed from anger to insults; others act differand then grow angry; our surprise at such
behaviour always supersedes resentment.
Men do
not sufficiently take advantage of every opportunity for pleasing
other people.
When
a person accepts a certain post,
it
seems that he intends

it;
to acquire the
power of obliging others without using
nothing
is
quicker
and more readily given than a after mature reflection.
refusal, whilst nothing is ever granted until
Know exactly what you

of
them
If
in particular,
are to expect from men in general, and from each and then mix with the people around you.
poverty
is
the mother of
all
crimes, lack of intelligence
is
their father.
A knave can hardly be a very intelligent man; a clear and far-seeing mind
it is want of sense and penetration which begets obstinacy in wickedness as well as in duplicity; in vain we endeavour to correct such a man by satire; it may describe him to others, but he himself wiU not know his own picture; it is like scolding a deaf man. It would be well, please gentlemen of sense and culture, and avenge everybody, if a rogue were not so constituted as to be without any feeUng what-
leads to regularity, honesty, and virtue;
ever.
There are some vices for which we are indebted to none but ourselves, which are innate in us, and are strengthened by habit; there are others we contract which are foreign to us. Sometimes men are naturally inclined to yield without much difficulty, to be urbane, and to desire to please; but by the treatment they meet from those whom they frequent and on whom they depend, they soon lose all moderation, and even change their disposition; they grow melancholy and peevish to a degree ere this unknown to them; their temper is completely changed, and they are themselves astonished at their being rude and tetchy.
mankind does not constitute one same language, obey the same laws, and agree among themselves to adopt the same customs and the same worship? For my part, observing how greatly minds, tastes, and sentiments differ, I am astonished to see seven or eight persons, living under the same roof and within the same walls, constitute one family.
the whole bulk of
nation, and does not like to speak the
Some people ask why
227
fathers,
There are some extraordinary

at their deaths.
who
seem, during the whole course
of their lives, to be preparing reasons for their children for being consoled
Everything
is
strange in the dispositions, morals, and manners of

his
men:
whole Ufetime has been melancholy, passionate, avaricious, fawning, submissive, laborious, and egotistical, was born lively, peaceable, indolent, ostentatious, and with lofty feelings, abhorring anything base; want, circumstances, and dire necessity have compelled him and caused such a great change. Such a man's inmost feelings can really not be described, for too many external things have altered, changed, and upset him, so that he is not exactly what he thinks he is himself or what he appears
to be.
one person who during
is short and tedious, and is wholly spent in wishing; we trust to find and enjoyment at some future time, often at an age when our best blessings, youth and health, have already left us. When at last that time
Life
rest
has arrived,
farther
it
surprises us in the midst of fresh desires;
when we
it
are attacked by a fever which kiUs us;

to give us
we have got no if we had been
cured,
would only have been
more time
for other desires.
A man requesting a favour from another, surrenders himself at discretion

from whom he expects it, but when he be granted, he temporises, parleys, and capitulates.
to the personage
It is
is
quite sure
it
will
so usual for
men
not to be happy, and so essential for every blessing
what is obtained easily is looked can hardly understand how anything which costs us so little can be gready to our advantage, or how by stricdy honest means we can so easily obtain what we want; we may think we deserve our success, but we ought very soldom to depend on it.
to be acquired with infinite trouble, that
upon with
suspicion.
We
man who
says he
is
not born happy
may
at least
become so by the
happiness his friends and relatives enjoy, but envy deprives him even of
this last resource.
Whatever
jected.
this,
perhaps, wrong to be deand poverty, and as few escape and as every kind of calamity seems to befall them, they ought to be
I
may somewhere have

born
said,
it is,
Men seem
to misfortune, pain,
prepared for every misfortune.
Men
find
it
so very difficult to
make
business arrangements, they are so
very touchy where their smallest interests are concerned, they are so bristling
over with
difficulties,
so willing to deceive and so unwilling to be deceived,
they place so high a value on what belongs to themselves, and are so apt to
228
undervalue what belongs to others, that
I
JEAN DE LA BRUYERE
admit
I
cannot understand
how
what way marriages, contracts, treaties, and alliances are brought about.
and
in
acquisitions, conventions, truces,
Among some people

Knaves
I
arrogance supplies the place of grandeur, inhumanity
of decision, and roguery of intelligence.

easily believe others as
bad
as themselves; there
is
no deceiving
them, neither do they long deceive.
would rather
at
any time be considered a fool than a rogue.

is
We
never deceive people to benefit them, for knavery

.
compound
of
wickedness and falsehood.
Suppose men were

discover what
to live for ever in this world, I
do not think
could
more they could do than they do

it is
at present.
If life
be wretched,
hard to bear
it; if it
be happy,
it
is
horrible to
lose
it;
both come to the same thing.

nothing
There
about, as
is
men
are so anxious to keep, and yet are so careless
life.

More Aphorisms
Georg Christoph Lichtenberg (1742-1799),

long been familiar to
in his
own day known
chiefly
as a distinguished scientist, a professor at the University of Gottingen, has
Germans
as one of their greatest aphorists and
satirists.
One
that
of the advantages of the aphoristic form for a certain kind of

it
mind
is
permits
all
kinds of shots in
all directions,
some
of which
hit lightly
targets which others can establish more solidly afterward. I begin my list from Lichtenberg with an amazing "anticipation" of Freud. But Lichtenberg also "anticipates" a good deal of contemporary logical positivism. He deserves to be better known in this country. Incidentally, in his own day
he was one of the severest critics of a then fashionable attempt to systematize "scientifically" our knowledge of human nature, the science of physi-
ognomy
of the Swiss Lavater.
MANY CONCLUSIONS ABOUT MEN'S CHARACTERS COULD PERHAPS BE DRAWN

from their dreams, if they would report them be needed, not just one.
exactly.
But quite a few would
I commend dreams again; we live and feel as much dreaming as waking and are the one as much as the other. It is one of the superiorities of man that he dreams and knows it. We have hardly made the right use of this yet. Dream is a life which, combined with the rest of us, makes up what we call human life. Dreams gradually merge into our waking; we cannot say where man's waking state begins.
We
often strive to subdue

all
time to preserve
describing
totality,
its
of our
fail
some vicious emotion, and try at the same good ones. This comes from our method of
man: we
to see his character as a very neatly constructed
which can be rearranged only by changing the relative position of various parts. Rather, we regard his emotions as adhesive beauty-patches,
From The Lichtenberg Reader. Translated, edited, and introduced by Franz H. Mautner and Henry Hatfield (Boston: The Beacon Press, 1959), pp. 43-100 passim.
229
230
which we may
shift

or throw
away
at will.
Many
such errors derive from
the languages indispensable in describing the emotions.
Thus we always
think of the most ordinary meaning the
moment we
if
neglect, to the slightest
degree, the particular association. Therefore,

acterization
is
a general system of charfirst
to
be invented, a proper language must

at least
be found.
belles lettres to
Everyone should study
enough philosophy and

delectable.
make
If
his sexual experience
more
an angel were to
tell
us about his philosophy,
beUeve many of
his
statements might well sound like
"2x2=13."
With voluptuous
anxiety.
What
didn't
is
"German
character"?
you say?
it
O
is
you simple
like in
dolts! Listen:
What? Tobacco-smoking and honesty, be good enough to tell me

I tell instead of
it's
what the weather

It lightens,
America. Shall
it's
you? All
it's
right.
hails, it's
muddy,
is
sultry,
unbearable,
snowing,
freezing, windy,
and the sun
shining.
Truth has to overcome a thousand obstacles to get on paper undamaged, and back from the paper to the mind. Liars are its weakest enemies. The star-gazing writer, who holds forth about all matters and views all matters as other honest people do when they have had a drop too much; the supersubtle, affected "judge of human nature," who sees and wants to see a man's whole life mirrored in each of his acts; the good, pious man who beheves in every instance because he is respectful, who examines none of
the things he learned before his fifteenth year and builds
he has examined of an unexamined base
up the
little bit
these are enemies of truth.
Because of
his
obscure sense of his
himself far from the goal even

sufficiently enlighten
own perfectibility, man still thinks when he has reached it; and reason does not him. What he finds easy, he thinks bad, and so he
strains from the bad to the good, and from the good to a type of the bad which he thinks better than good.
The progress
it
of the
good and the purposeful
in the world. If, for instance,
is
rooted in
human
nature that ultimately the Christian religion will
perish again
some day, it will happen whether people oppose this or not. Going against the stream and obstructing it for a little while makes only an infinitely small bend in the line. Only it is too bad that we have to be the spectators and not some other generation; no one can blame us for working as hard as we can to shape our times according to our own minds. I always think that we on this sphere serve a purpose whose fulfillment a conspiracy of the whole human race cannot prevent. In just the same way
More Aphorisms
a
231
good book will go down to posterity even if all the critical judges should combine to cast suspicion on it not by satire but with the mien of the innocent lamb and the accent of the lover of truth even if they should keep absolute silence about it. If it contains a dozen new truths, stated well and vigorously, if the expert in human nature appears in the rest of the work, then a legion of witty magazine writers will be as little able to block its course to eternity as I could fan back the storm or the rising flood with a playing card. A man can condemn a good book through envy, lack of
judgment, or foolishness, but
Man
cannot.
A
It
on
his lips;
and non-A
in his heart.
too
much
would be worth-while to investigate whether it isn't harmful to devote care to bringing up children. We don't yet know man well enough
to relieve
chance completely of this function. I believe that if our pedagogues I mean, if they bring it about that the children there won't be a single really are shaped completely by their influence
succeed in their intention
great
man produced from now

a mirror:
on.
A book is
when
monkey looks
little
in,
no apostle can look
out.
The reason
that people can retain so
think so httle themselves.
When
a person
of what they read is that they knows how to repeat sensibly
what others have said, he has usually thought a great deal himself his mind is a mere pedometer.
unless
What
they call "heart"
is
located far lower than the fourth vest button.
If a later generation were to reconstruct the man of today from our mental writings, they would believe he had been a heart with testicles.
senti-
Just as one says
someone "holds an
office," while actually the office holds
him.
am
convinced that a person doesn't only love himself in others; he also
hates himself in others.
Materialism
is
the asymptote of psychology.
In a machine as complicated as a slight part in determining events.
this
world,
we
are
all, I
think,
gambling
in a lottery as far as the essentials are concerned,
even though we
may have
it
As soon as people know that someone from behind.
is
blind, they think they
can
tell
232

don't devour each other;
We
we merely
slaughter each other.
/ and me. I feel me that makes two objects. Our false philosophy is embodied in the language as a whole: one might say that we can't reason without reasoning wrong. People don't bear in mind that speaking, no matter about what, is a philosophy. Everyone who speaks is a folk-philosopher, and our academic philosophy consists of qualifications of the
an improving of linguistic usage; that most common of all, in fact. But the ordinary philosophy has the advantage of possessing declensions and conjugations. Thus we always teach true philosophy in the language of the false one. Defining words is no help; for by using explanations, I don't change the pronouns and their declensions.
is,
popular brand. All our philosophy
an improving of a philosophy
is
of the
There
the
is
something in every person's character that cannot be broken
bony
structure of his character.
Wanting
to
change
it
is
the
same
as
teaching a sheep to retrieve.
The myths
Sense
nature.
is
of the physicists.
order; and order
is,
in the last analysis,
harmony with our own
When we
speak reasonably, we speak only from our essence and
our nature. In order to incorporate something in our memory, therefore, we always try to supply sense or another sort of ordering. Therefore genera
and species among plants and animals,
as well as other similarities, includ-
ing rhyme. In just that category, our hypotheses also belong;
we must have
some, because otherwise we could not remember things. This has been said very long ago, but one comes back to it again from aU directions.
Thus we
try to bring sense into the physical world.
But the question
is
whether we can really make sense of everything. Certainly, by much testing and reflection, a meaning can be brought into something which is not sensible for us, or not sensible at all. Thus one sees in the sand faces, landscapes,
etc.,
which certainly are not the intention of these patterns. Symmetry be-
longs here too; silhouette in the blot of ink, etc. Also the scale in the range
of creatures
all
that
is
too easily that
when we observe
not in the things but in us. Generally one forgets nature, we always observe only ourselves,
especially our orderings.
Just as the supporters of Herr Kant always reproach their opponents for not understanding him, it seems that some others believe that Herr Kant is right because they understand him.
I've thought for a long time that Philosophy will yet
devour
herself.
Metaphvsics
has already partially
devoured
herself.
More Aphorisms
233
Man
is
a creature
who
searches for causes; he could be
named
the
cause-searcher within the hierarchy of minds. Other minds perhaps conceive things under other categories, incomprehensible to us.
In nature
and
if
we see not words but always the initial letters of words only, we then try to read, we discover that the new so-called words are
initials
again only the
of others.
Just let governments of the people take over everywhere: then presum-
ably other conditions will ensue as unpalatable to Reason as the present
repubUcan system should be quite free of all harm What would it be like if it should become reality? I believe, without wanting to set myself up as a judge, that society will be hurled by revolutions forever and ever from one system to another, and that the duration of each will depend on the virtue of the
ones.
For
that the
is
a dream, a mere notion.
subjects at the time.
Probably no invention came more easily to

Is
it
man
than inventing Heaven.
really
so absolutely certain that our reason can
know
nothing
metaphysical? Might
just as
man
not be able to weave his ideas of
God
with
weaves his net to catch flies? Or, in other words: might not beings exist who admire us as much for our ideas of God and immortality as we admire the spider and the silk worm?
as the spider
much purpose
FRIEDRICH WILHELM NIETZSCHE

Human,
All
Too Human
Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche (1844-1900) usually gets catalogued as a
philosopher, perhaps because he
was a German. But he never produced

is
the kind of systematic treatise a philosopher

after his early writings in defense of
Philistinism, did
expected to produce, nor,

in attack
Wagner and
on German
he write connected essays.
He
wrote extended aphorisms,
which was by no means simple, monolithic. Indeed the aphorism as a literary form pulls a writer in two quite opposite directions. It commits him, if only in competition with his predecessors, to epigrammatic brevity, carefully polished sentences, meticulous choice of words, long hours of revision; and yet it also permits him to avoid systematic planning of a whole carefully articulated work, lets him take the lazy man's way out of tossing off his bright ideas as they come, regardless of how they fit together. Nietzsche's work is a fine example of both these contrary pulls.
loosely tied together, given unity only by his temperament,
Nietzsche had an immense influence on the generation of 1900, not

only in Germany, but throughout the West.
As
to
what he meant
to
do
with the words he used so
skillfully there
has long been great debate: to
some he
is
the more-than-Christian idealist, a gentle, fighting soul; to
a hater of human beings, a neurotic intellectual overcompensating for his physical defects by preaching the need for a new aristocracy of the strong. We cannot here attempt to go into the
others, a proto-Nazi,
Nietzsche question. I cite passages from one of his earlier aphoristic
books, the relatively cheerful
Human,
All
Too Human.
ADVANTAGES OF PSYCHOLOGICAL OBSERVATION

THAT REFLECTION REGARDING THE HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN OR AS THE learned jargon is: psychological observation is among the means whereby the burden of life can be made lighter, that practice in this art affords
From Friedrich Nietzsche, Human, All Too Human. Translated by Alexander Harvey (Chicago: Charles H. Kerr & Company, 1908), pp. 77-100 passim. 234
Human,
All
Too Human
difficult situations
235
and entertainment amid a weariculled in the thorniest and
presence of mind in
some environment,
aye, that
maxims may be
and invigoration thereby obtained: this much in former centuries. Why was this forgotten in our own century, during which, at least in Germany, yes in Europe, poverty as regards psychological observation would have been manifest in many ways had there been anyone to whom this poverty could have manifested itself. Not only in the novel, in the romance, in philosophical standpoints these are the works of exceptional men; still more in the state of opinion regarding public events and personages; above all in general society, which says much about men but nothing whatever about man, there is totally lacking the art of psychological analysis and synthesis. But why is the richest and most harmless source of entertainment
least pleasing paths of life
was beheved was known
thus allowed to run to waste?

logical
it
Why
maxim no
longer read?
is
the greatest master of the psycho-
for,
with no exaggeration whatever be

very hard to find;
harder,
said:
the educated person in
Europe who has read La Rochefoucauld

still
and
his intellectual
and
artistic affinities is
the person
who knows them and

artists
does not disparage them. Apparently,
too, this unusual reader takes far less pleasure in
them than the form
adopted by these
in
should afford him: for the subtlest mind cannot
it has had training Without such practical acquaintance, one is apt to look upon this making and forming as a much easier thing than it really is; one is not keenly enough alive to the felicity and the charm of success. Hence present day readers of maxims have but a moderate, tempered pleasure in them, scarcely, indeed, a true perception of their merit, so that their experiences are about the same as those of the average beholder of cameos: people who praise because they cannot appreciate, and are very ready to admire and still readier to turn away.
it,
adequately appreciate the art of maxim-making unless

unless
it
has competed in
it.
Objection.
ing existence?
Or
In
is
there a counter-proposition to the dictum that psyis
chological observation
Have enough
all truth,
one of the means of consoling, lightening, charmof the unpleasant effects of this art been
a certain blind faith in the goodness of
experienced to justify the person striving for culture in turning his regard
away from
it?
human
more
nature, an implanted distaste for any disparagement of
a sort of shamefacedness at the nakedness of the soul,

desirable things in the general happiness of a
human may be
this
concerns,
far
man, than
only occa-
sionally advantageous quality of psychological sharpsightedness; and perhaps belief in the good, in virtuous men and actions, in a plenitude of
disinterested benevolence has
been more productive of good

is
in the
world
heroes
of
men
in so far as
it
has
made men
less distrustful. If Plutarch's
are enthusiastically imitated and a reluctance
experienced to looking
too critically into the motives of their actions, not the knowledge but the
welfare of
human
society
is
promoted thereby: psychological error and
236
FRIEDRICH
WILHELM NIETZSCHE
above all obtuseness in regard to it, help human nature forward, whereas knowledge of the truth is more promoted by means of the stimulating strength of a hypothesis; as La Rochefoucauld in the first edition of his "Sentences and Moral Maxims" has expressed it: "What the world calls
virtue
is
ordinarily but a
phantom created by
the passions, and to which
we give a good name in order to do whatever we please with impunity." La Rochefoucauld and those other French masters of soul-searching (to
the
number
of
whom
has lately been added a German, the author of
"Psychological Observations") are Uke expert
again hit the black spot

art inspires
but
it is
the black spot in
marksmen who again and human nature. Their
amazement, but finally some spectator, inspired, not by the but by a humanitarian feeUng, execrates an art that seems to implant in the soul a taste for belittling and impeaching mankind.
scientific spirit
Nevertheless.
tion
is
The matter
The
thus: in the present state of

essential.
therefore, as regards pro and con, stands phUosophy an awakening of the moral observa-
repulsive aspect of psychological dissection, with
the knife and tweezers entailed by the process, can no longer be spared
is the imperative duty of any science that investigates the and history of the so-called moral feelings and which, in its progress is called upon to posit and to solve advanced social problems: The older philosophy does not recognize the newer at all and, through paltry evasions, has always gone astray in the investigation of the origin and history of human estimates (Werthschatzungen). With what results may now be very clearly perceived, since it has been shown by many examples,
humanity. Such
origin
how
the errors of the greatest philosophers have their origin in a false
explanation of certain
actions), a false ethic
human
is
actions
and
feelings;
how upon
and
the founda-
tion of an erroneous analysis (for example, of the so called disinterested
reared, to support which religion
like
mytho-
logical monstrosities are called in, until finally the shades of these troubled
spirits collapse in
But
tion,
if it
physics and in the comprehensive world point of view. be established that superficiality of psychological observation has
heretofore set the most dangerous snares for
human judgment and deducneed

is
and
will continue to
do
so, all the greater
there of that steady

little
is
continuance of labor that never wearies putting stone upon stone,
upon little stone; all the greater need not ashamed of such humble labor and that
stone
is
there of a courage that
will
oppose persistence to
all
contempt.
circles
It is,
finally,
also true that countless single observations confirst
cerning the human, all-too-human, have been
made and
uttered in
accustomed, not to furnish matter for
scientific
knowledge, but
for intellectual pleasure-seeking;
very seductive atmosphere
and the
original
home atmosphere
of the moral
maxim
has almost inextricably
interpenetrated the entire species, so that the scientific
man
involuntarily
manifests a sort of mistrust of this species and of

is
its
seriousness.
it is
sufficient to
point to the consequences: for already
But it becoming evi-
Human,
All
Too Human
237
developing in the
dent that events of the most portentous nature are domain of psychological observation. What is the leading conclusion arrived at by one of the subtlest and calmest of thinkers, the author of the work "Concerning the Origin of the Moral Feelings," as a result of his thorough and incisive analysis of human conduct? "The moral man," he says, "stands no nearer the knowable (metaphysical) world than the physical man." This dictum, grown hard and cutting beneath the hammerblow of historical knowledge, can some day, perhaps, in some future or
other, serve as the axe that will
necessities" of
men
whether
be
laid to the root of the "metaphysical
more
say?
any event a dictum fraught with the most momentous consequences, fruitful and fearful at once, and confronting the world in the two faced way characteristic of aU great facts.
of universal well being
in
who can
but
to the blessing than to the
baiming
To What Extent Useful.

tion
is
Therefore, whether
psychological observa-
more an advantage than a disadvantage to mankind may always remain undetermined: but there is no doubt that it is necessary, because science can no longer dispense with it. Science, however, recognizes no considerations of ultimate goals or ends any more than nature does; but
as the latter duly matures things of the highest fitness for certain ends
without any intention of doing
it,
so will true science, doing with ideas
what nature does with matter, promote the purposes and the welfare of humanity, (as occasion may afford, and in many ways) and attain fitness [to ends]
but
likewise without having intended
it.
He
come
find
to
whom
the atmospheric conditions of such a prospect are too

little fire
wintry, has too
in
him:
let
sensible of maladies requiring an icy air,
him look about him, and he will beand of people who are
so "kneaded together" out of ardor and intellect that they can scarcely
anywhere an atmosphere too cold and cutting for them. Moreover: and nations stand in need of trivial relaxations; as others, too volatile and excitable require onerous, weighty ordeals to render them entirely healthy: should not we, the more intellectual men of this age, which is swept more and more by conflagrations, catch up every cooling and extinguishing appliance we can find that we may always remain as self contained, steady and calm as we are now, and thereby perhaps serve this age as its mirror and self reflector, when the occasion
as too serious individuals
arises?
.
. .
that
Above Animal. The beast in us must be wheedled: ethic is necessary, we may not be torn to pieces. Without the errors involved in the assumptions of ethics, man would have remained an animal. Thus has
he taken himself as something higher and imposed rigid laws upon himself. He feels hatred, consequently, for states approximating the animal: whence the former contempt for the slave as a not-yet-man, as a thing,
is
to be explained.
238
FRIEDRICH
WILHELM NIETZSCHE
are circumstances in
Sympathy Greater than Suffering.

which sympathy
for instance,
is
There
stronger than the suffering
itself.
We
feel
more
is,
pain,
action
when one of our friends becomes guilty than if we had done the deed ourselves. We
of a reprehensible
once, that
had
more
than he had himself. Hence our love for him, (apparently because of this very faith) is stronger than is his own love for himself. If, indeed, his egoism really suffers more, as
faith in the purity of his character
a result, than our egoism, inasmuch as he must take the consequences of his fault to a greater extent than ourselves, nevertheless, the unegoistic
this
word
is
of expression
not to be taken too

in us
is
strictly,
but simply as a modified form

his guilt
more
affected
by
than the unegoistic in
him.
Hypochondria. There are people who, from sympathy and anxiety for others become hypochrondiacal. The resulting form of compassion
is
nothing else than sickness. So, also,

singular,
is
there a Christian hypochondria,
from which those
religiously
agitated people suffer

. .
who
.
place
always before their eyes the suffering and death of Christ.
The Desire to Inspire Compassion. La Rochefoucauld, in the most notable part of his self portraiture (first printed 1658) reaches the vital spot of truth when he warns all those endowed with reason to be on their guard against compassion, when he advises that this sentiment be left to men of the masses who stand in need of the promptings of the emotions (since they are not guided by reason) to induce them to give aid to the suffering and to be of service in misfortune: whereas compassion, in his (and Plato's) view, deprives the heart of strength. To be
sure,
it;
sympathy should be manifested but men should take care not
to feel
for the unfortunate are rendered so dull that the manifestation of
sympathy affords them the greatest happiness in the world. Perhaps a more effectual warning against this compassion can be given if this need of the unfortunate be considered not simply as stupidity and intellectual weakness, not as a sort of distraction of the spirit entailed by misfortune itself (and thus, indeed, does La Rochefoucauld seem to view it) but as something quite different and more momentous. Let note be taken of children who cry and scream in order to be compassionated and who, therefore, await the moment when their condition will be observed; come into contact with the sick and the oppressed in spirit and try to ascertain if the wailing and sighing, the posturing and posing of misfortune do not have as end and aim the causing of pain to the beholder: the sympathy which each beholder manifests is a consolation to the weak and
suffering only in as
much
as they are
all
made
their
to perceive that at least they

inflict
have the power, notwithstanding
weakness, to
pain.
The
unfortunate experiences a species of joy in the sense of superiority which the manifestation of sympathy entails; his imagination is exalted; he is
always strong enough, then, to cause the world pain. Thus
is
the thirst
Human,
for
All
Too Human
thirst
it
239
for self enjoyment and at the expense of one's shows man in the whole ruthlessness of his own dear In social self: not in his mere "dulhiess" as La Rochefoucauld thinks. the questions are asked, and three conversation three fourths of all
sympathy a
fellow creatures:
fourths of
that
is
all
the replies are
made
in order to inflict
it
why
so
many people
is
crave social intercourse:
gives
some little pain; them a sense

life:
of their power. In these countless but very small doses in which the
quality of badness
to the
administered
it
proves a potent stimulant of
same extent that well wishing (Wohl-wollen) distributed through world in Uke manner, is one of the ever ready restoratives. But will the
many honorable people be found

seldom found
to
admit that there
administering pain? that entertainment
and
rare
entertainment
is
any pleasure in
is
not
some pain, and in raking them with the small shot of wickedness? The majority are too ignoble and a few are too good to know anything of this pudendum: the latter may, consequently, be prompt to deny that Prosper Merimee is right when he says: "Know, also, that nothing is more common than to do wrong for the pleasure of doing it."
in causing others, at least in thought,
How
refrain,
Appearance Becomes Reality.
The
actor cannot,
at
last,
even in moments of the deepest pain, from thinking of the effect produced by his deportment and by his surroundings for example, even
at the funeral of his
own
child:
he will weep
at his
manifestations as though he were his
own
audience.
own sorrow and its The hypocrite who
in the case of priests
always plays one and the same part, finally ceases to be a hypocrite; as who, when young men, are always, either consciously
or
unconsciously,
hypocrites,
and
finally
become
if
naturally
and then
gets the
really,
it
without affectation, mere priests: or
the father does not carry
to this extent, the son,
who
inherits his father's calling
and
advantage of the paternal progress, does.

period,
When
anyone, during a long

it
and
persistently, wishes to
appear something,
will at last
prove
difficult for
him
to be anything else.
The
calling of ahnost every
man,
even of the artist, begins with hypocrisy, with an imitation of deportment, with a copying of the effective in maimer. He who always wears the mask of a friendly man must at last gain a power over friendliness of
disposition, without
and over himhe

be gained
characteristic
is
which the expression
itself
of friendliness
is
not to
finally
friendliness of disposition gains the
ascendancy
is
benevolent.
The Point of Honor

act of deception,
in
Deception.
In
owe
all
great deceivers
one
prominent, to which they
their
power. In the very
amid
all
the accompaniments, the agitation in the voice,
the expression, the bearing, in the crisis of the scene, there
comes over them a belief in themselves; this it is that acts so effectively and irresistibly upon the beholders. Founders of religions differ from such great
deceivers in that they never
come out
of this state of self deception, or
240
else they have, very rarely,
FRIEDRICH
WILHELM NIETZSCHE
a few moments of enlightemnent in which
generally, however, they soothe themby ascribing such moments of enlightenment to the evil adversary. Self-deception must exist that both classes of deceivers may attain far reaching results. For men beUeve in the truth of all that is manifestly believed with due implicitness by others.
they
are
overcome by doubt;
selves
Ability to Wait.
their
Ability to wait
is
so hard to acquire that great
poets have not disdained to
make
inability to wait the central
motive of
poems. So Shakespeare in Othello, Sophocles in Ajax, whose suicide would not have seemed to him so imperative had he only been able to cool his ardor for a day, as the oracle foreboded: apparently he would
then have repulsed somewhat the fearful whispers of distracted thought
and have said
to himself:
is it
Who
has not already, in
a sheep for a hero?
so extraordinary a thing?
my situation, mistaken On the contrary it is
Passion will not wait: the tragic element in the lives of great
then:
something universally human: Ajax should thus have soothed himself. men does
not generally consist in their conflict with time and the inferiority of
fellowmen but in their inabiUty to put off their work a year or two: In aU duels, the friends who advise have but to ascertain if the principals can wait: if this be not possible, a duel is rational
they cannot wait.
inasmuch as each of the combatants may say: "either I continue to live and the other dies instantly, or vice versa." To wait in such circumstances would be equivalent to the frightful martyrdom of enduring dishonor in the presence of him responsible for the dishonor: and this can
easily cost
more anguish than
life is
worth.
Glutting Revenge.
Coarse
it
men, who
feel
a sense of injury, are
in the habit of rating the extent of their injury as high as possible
and
of stating the occasion of
in greatly exaggerated language, in order to
be able to feast themselves on the sentiments of hatred and revenge thus

aroused.
Value of Disparagement.
find
it
Not a
few, perhaps the majority of men,
necessary, in order to retain their self esteem and a certain uprightall
ness in conduct, to mentally disparage and belittle
the people they
know. But as the inferior natures are in the majority and as a great deal depends upon whether they retain or lose this uprightness, so
The Man in a Rage. We should be on our guard against the man who is enraged against us, as against one who has attempted our life, for the fact that we still Uve consists solely in the inability to kill: were looks sufficient, it would have been all up with us long since. To reduce anyone
to silence
is
by physical manifestations of savagery or by a terrorizing process
a rehc of under civilization. So, too, that cold look which great per-
Human,
between
All
Too Human
is
241
a remnant of the caste distinction
survival,
sonages cast upon their servitors
man and man;

.
a specimen of rude antiquity:

this
servers of the old,
have maintained
too,
women, more
the conperfectly
than men.
General Standard.
One
will rarely err
if
extreme actions be
actions to fear.
as-
cribed to vanity, ordinary actions to habit and
mean
Misunderstanding of Virtue.
Whoever
has obtained his experi-
ence of vice in connection with pleasure, as in the case of one with a
youth of wild oats behind him, comes to the conclusion that virtue must be connected with self denial. Whoever, on the other hand, has been very much plagued by his passions and vices, longs to find in virtue the rest and peace of the soul. That is why it is possible for two virtuous people to misunderstand one another wholly.
The Ascetic.
The
ascetic
makes out
of virtue a slavery.
Ambition a Substitute for Moral Feeling.

bitious
Moral
as well
feeling should
never become extinct in natures that are destitute of ambition. The am-
can get along without moral feeling
just
as with
it.
Hence
the sons of retired, ambitionless families, generally
become by a
series of rapid gradations,
when
they lose moral feeling, the most abso-
lute lunkheads.
The Soul's
Skin.
As
the bones, flesh, entrails
and blood
it
vessels are
enclosed by a skin that renders the aspect of

of the soul.
men
endurable, so the
is
impulses and passions of the soul are enclosed by vanity:
the skin
Sleep of Virtue.
If virtue
goes to sleep,
it
will
be more vigorous
when
it
awakes.
they are ashamed

to them.
Subtlety of Shame. Men are not ashamed of obscene thoughts, but when they suspect that obscene thoughts are attributed
Naughtiness
selves to
Is
Rare.
Most people
are too
much absorbed
in
them-
be bad.
in
The Mite
or the other
the Balance.
We
are praised or blamed, as the one
may be
expedient, for displaying to advantage our
power
of discernment.
Luke
exalted.
18,
14 Improved.
He
that
humbleth himself wisheth to be
JOSEPH
WOOD KRUTCH
Man
The Conditioned
Joseph
Wood Krutch (1893) is an American writer who has had a varied career as Professor of English at Columbia, dramatic critic, and naturalist the last in the Thoreauvian sense, not in that of formal biological scientific research. He is, clearly, essentially a moralist. I give
here at length a characteristic estimate of

sentative contemporary
to display clearly
human
capacities by a repreto
American
intellectual.
Mr. Krutch seems
me
one of the sources of the "alienation" of his kind with which we began this book: he doesn't think very highly of his fellowmen and is certainly not very charitable towards them; he inclines to the hope that they are by nature not as bad as they are now in condition in the United States in the 1960's; he seems to hold that "something" has gone wrong, something in the environment (the human condition); and yet he has no clear notion of how to lift the many out of the bad environment into a better, seems indeed at times to feel that the human stuff really is hopelessly corrupt. Can a good democrat hold a low opinion of
the
human
stuff?
NO OFFHAND SAYING IS MORE FAMILIAR THAN "YOU CAN'T CHANGE human nature." Nevertheless, we are today much more Ukely to proceed
upon
far
the
assumption that you can; and the whole of the prevalent,

it
Marxist-tinged social philosophy takes
for granted that
"human
nature,"
from being a constant,
is
nothing but a determined and predictable
reaction to "society."
Moreover, that old-fashioned minority which says and really means, can't change human nature," is generally dismissed as reactionary and cynical. What they are usually assumed to mean (and what they very often do mean) is merely that man is incurably self-centered, selfish, envious, grasping, combative, greedy, mischievous, and cruel. The possibly encouraging aspects of the assumption that there is
"You
From Joseph Wood Krutch, Human Nature and Random House, 1959), pp. 169-190.
242
the
Human
Condition
(New York:
The Conditioned
Man
human
nature and that
it is
243
changeable only
something permanent about

within limits,
is
curiously overlooked. If
man
is
incurably this or that
unamiable thing he
even noble thing.
totalitarians
may
also be,
incurably, this or that admirable or
what the Nazi and Communist have made the condition of millions to be and when they assume that this condition will prove intolerable in the end, they sometimes say that "sooner or later human nature will rebel." But it won't and it can't unless human nature is, indeed, an independent reaUty, not merely a product. Even in the United States the same unanswered question arises in a milder form, because all proponents of a completely "planned society" also go on the assumption that human nature can be made to become whatever the social, political, and economic organization are designed to make it. To say to them that "you can't change human nature" may mean, as it often does, that you cannot condition man to the abandonment of all desire for personal profit, personal possessions, "status," and all the other prizes given to excellence. But it may also mean, perhaps, that you cannot make him the pure conformist and pure materialist
liberals consider
When
which many "planned societies" seem to want to make him. Considered thus, "You can't change human nature" may be an expression of the last best hope for an age which has lost faith in man as, in any sense, the captain of his soul. And since it does seem to suggest such a hope, then surely there is good reason to re-examine the so generally neglected assumption that there is, after all, some such thing as human nature, or to put it in another way, that what we are born with is not a
completely blank
slate.
One had
same reason
best begin by remembering that just such a re-examination
of the theory
was made during the eighteenth century for exactly the we would Hke to make it, and also that those who, for a time, did confidently reassert the reality of human nature were worsted a few generations later by that new wave of destructive criticism of which
that
so
much
The
of today's thinking
is
a part.
which inevitably follow from the Hobbesian premise had been drawn by Hobbes himself and eagerly embraced by the intellectuals of his time, who felt themselves emancipated from the
nihiUstic conclusions
traditions of a sobered generation

felt
much
as those of the nineteen twenties
themselves emancipated from Victorianism. But after hardly more
than a generation of exuberant Hobbesism the early eighteenth century be-
gan to put up its own fight against the nihilism to which, like us, it could no longer oppose traditional religious assumptions. Its answer to the question, "To what shall we turn for guidance now that we no longer have God's revealed word?" was the concepts of nature and of right reason. If, so it argued, the good cannot be defined as "that which is in accord
244
with God's will"
it
JOSEPH WOOD KRUTCH
it is at least "that which is in accord with nature." And proposed a simple criterion by which it thought that nature might be distinguished from custom or mere fashion. Whatever tastes, customs, or convictions vary radically from time to time and from place to place were recognized as mere matters of fashion. Whatever all men tended to agree upon was accepted as "in accord with nature." The Iliad, for example, exemplified the natural laws of aesthetics because all men who had ever known it found it admirable. Because a belief in God seemed to be a universal characteristic of all societies this belief must also be natural, though none of the theological creeds which are so wildly variable and inconsistent are. Thus nature (including human nature) was presumed to set up its own absolutes. What men should do was not, to them, whatever men do do, but rather what men have always thought they should do. Education was not,
as
we now
think
it
should be, an "adjustment" to the prevailing or

life
fashionable mores but to a
"in accordance with that right reason
which understands and accepts the laws of nature." The best literature or music was not, as we now tend to think, whatever is at the moment preferred by the greatest number of people but what, in the long run, nature is seen to be striving toward.
Unfortunately, perhaps, this fight against the nihilistic implications of
the blank slate and the relativism which follows logically from
criticized out of existence just as that of
it
turned
out to be only a delaying action. Presently, the concept of nature was
God had
been. There simply
is
not, said
its
critics,
anything in religion, or morals, or art upon which,

all
in actual fact, all
men, or even nearly
men, have agreed.

criticism
The support and

and twentieth
factual amplification of this
became one
of the chief tasks of anthropology and sociology during the nineteenth

centuries. Before the first of these centuries
was over, Wil-
liam Lecky in his very influential History of European Morals could write that there is no act which cannot be shown to have been forbidden
as a sin at
one time and place and enjoined as a duty
at
some
other.
And
so, after the heroic struggle of the eighteenth
century Lecky brought
us back once
neither
more
to the conviction that morals are merely mores; that
nor any permanent human nature gives sanction to one system of ethics rather than another. We were, in other words, given back the blank slate upon which anything can be written, and, on the
whole, the twentieth century has accepted
Professor
it.
God
Leo
Strauss, a present-day defender of the
now
usually dis-
credited concept of natural right, has recently pointed out that the collapse of the eighteenth-century argument based
upon "general consent" does

by no means a necessary
of the greatest natural
not logically invalidate the concept
itself:
" 'Consent of all mankind,' " he writes, "is
condition of the existence of natural right.
Some
The Conditioned
right teachers
Man
245
that, precisely if natural right is rational, its
have argued
discovery presupposes the cultivation of reason,

right will not
and therefore natural
be known universally: one ought not even expect any real

right
knowledge of natural
This defense but equally to
natural as
is
among
savages."
all
appUcable, not only to the concept of natural right, the other phases of the more general concept of the
some
sort of reality.
But
it
is
not Ukely to be very effective
as it assumes that reason, from rationahzation, is possible and because it rules out as irrelevant the opinions and practices of the savage, the uncultivated, and the stupid upon which the relativists lean so heavily in drawing their conclusions concerning what is "natural" and "normal"! Neverthless, the fact remains that in a world which has so definitely
with most contemporary

distinct
relativists
because
rejected
all
transcendental
sanctions
for
either
codes
of
behavior or
standards of value, "nature" and

possible place to look for a
"human
nature" seem to be the only
concept of an "ought" which

duct.
The question
norm which is not merely an average or a is more than a description of usual conwhether or not there is such a thing as human nature
all
therefore remains for us the grandest of

it
Uving questions and makes
necessary for us to ask whether the usual negative answer really is justifiable and permanent or whether we shall some day swing again in
a different direction and discover evidence

nature really
is
now
neglected that
human
something in
itself
and does provide certain absolutes,
valid at least in the
human
realm.
Have
the anthropologists been so preoccupied with the collection of
materials to demonstrate the
enormous
differences
between cultures that
they have overlooked some things which really are
common
to
them
all?
Have
the
experimental psychologists
been so busy conditioning both
animals and
men
to conditioning
that they have paid little attention to the resistance which both can put up?
One
instinct
little
straw blowing in the winds of psychological doctrine seems
to wonder whether on the other really can account for all the behavior of living organisms. A brain which carries written upon it even a system of instincts is far from being a blank slate. But that is by no means all. Certain other suflSciently obvious facts have recently been emphasized: (1) Birds know by instinct how to fly and do not have to be taught. (2) Seals do not know instinctively how to swim but are very easily taught by their mothers to do so. (3) You would have a very hard time indeed teaching most songbirds to swim. There are, in other words, not just two classes of animal behavior that which is not inborn though (inborn and learned) but also a third to point in that direction.
Some
skeptics have
begun
reflex
on the one hand and the conditioned
the ability to learn
it
easily
is.
Some
to
whom
these facts have
come home have begun
to
wonder
246
whether the same may not be whole psychic realm of behefs,
JOSEPH WOOD KRUTCH

true, not only of skills,
tastes,
but throughout the
and motives. The thesis of the moral relativists is to take an extreme case that since no one was bom with the "innate idea" that dishonesty and treachery are evil, then the conviction that they are evil can be nothing but the result of social education. The opposite, so they say, could just as easily be taught. Value judgments are
therefore merely the rationalized prejudices of a given culture.
May
are
not, in actual fact, the contrary

easily learned
be
true,
namely, that certain ideas
more
than others; that what the eighteenth century called
natural law, natural taste, and the rest
and
tastes
is real and consists in those beliefs which are most readily learned and also most productive of
health and happiness?
Perhaps you can condition an individual or a society to think and behave

"unnaturally" just as you might possibly teach a robin to swim. But
men
who have been

and as
puts
it,
conditioned to think or behave unnaturally are as unhappy
inefficient as
swimming
robins.
As
the biochemist
Roger
J.
Williams
"There are blanks and blanks. The blank brain of the child is capable as time goes on of accepting, digestmg (perceiving), and acting
upon a multitude
of handling."
Is this
of impressions that the brain of a rat
is
quite incapable
belaboring the obvious?
At
least
it is
not anything so obvious that
by those who preno ideas are innate; but if the capacity to entertain readily some ideas and not others is innate, then it all comes down to much the same thing. Professor Williams has led us back by a new route to the eighteenth century and to one of the most discredited exthe implications have not been for long disregarded ferred to disregard them. Perhaps
ponents of
its
ideas.
"Nature affords
of
at least a
glimm'ring light;/The
lines,
tho' touch'd but faintly, are
What Pope thought

statement.
drawn right." as a metaphor may be an accurate

like the latent
biological
On
the not quite blank slate the_]ines are touched too faintly
to constitute
an automatic mstmct. They are much
a photographic plate
imperceptible
until developed.
image on But what develop-
ment wUl
reveal already exists. There
we
are
bom
doubt
with
is
is such a thing as human nature. What not a blank slate bu t^ a film bearingalready a latent
image.
No
all
as
Pope went on
to say elsewhere, as experimental psy-
chologists prove in the laboratory,
too often demonstrated
and
as educators as
weU
as dictators
the lines
may be
"o'er laid,"
have and the un-
natural cease to
seem a creature of hideous mien. But the conditioners
have to work at it hard. Men believe in, for instance, the reality of good and evil much more readily than they can be made to accept cultural
relativism.
one which no valid science forbids, and from the nihilism of present-day cultural and moral relativism as the eighteenth century was saved from the nihilism of
Such an assumption
it
is
at least
if
we make
we
are saved
The Conditioned
Man
247
Hobbes. In a sense, God or at least a useful substitute for Him exists. have again some point of reference now lacking in every inquiry which sets out to determine what kind of society, or education, or culture would be best for us. One thing is no longer as good as another provided only it can be shown, or made, to exist. We need no longer talk only about what can be done to men or what we might be able to make them into. We can talk again about what, in themselves, they are. That involves what is certainly no easy inquiry. One of the most terrifying of Pascal's Pensees seems to range him with the enemy: "They say that habit is second nature; perhaps nature is only first habit." To distinguish correctly between the one and the other is one of the most difficult tasks we could set ourselves. But perhaps it is also the most important.
We
More than two thousand

tural anthropology
of.
years ago when Herodotus was inventing culhe noted a fact which anthropologists still make much Inquiring about funeral customs, he discovered that those who burned
dead were shocked when told that some peoples buried theirs and were no less shocked to learn that other human beings were so impious as to consign human bodies to the flames. On the basis of this fact Herodotus was already almost prepared to conclude what the nineteenth century haUed as a great and novel discovery, namely that morals are, after all, only mores. When in Rome you should do as the Romans do not merely because that is the courteous way to behave but because the customs of the Romans are, in that latitude, what is truly right, seemly,
their
that the latter
and proper. Does this necessarily follow in any such unqualified and unlimited sense? True, history may give us no reason to suppose that burying one's dead
is more in accord with human nature than burning or that burning is more in accord with it than burying. But there is, nevertheless, a fact which neither Herodotus nor most recent cultural and moral relativists seem to
have noticed: There is a good deal of evidence to support the contention that an enduring characteristic of the nature of man does bid him dispose of human remains in some traditional and ritual fashion. Burial customs
of one kind or another appear so early in existence
human
prehistory that their
may be one
mere half-men, and some

of the nature of
man
men and dead may have been part for as long as there has been man to have a nature.
of the criteria for distinguishing between
sort of respect for his
(if
All such imperatives

self
there are any) as originate in
human
nature
it-
which bids man pay respect to his dead, highly generalized rather than specific. But even such highly generalized imperatives can have important consequences. The pure relativist who denies the existence of anything permanent in human nature and who then finds himself shocked by, let us say, the "atrocities" committed against the dead by Nazi authorities is logically bound to tell himself that he is merely reacting according to a prejudice unworthy of one who has come
must
be, like that
248
to understand intellectually that
JOSEPH WOOD KRUTCH
that there
custom is never more than custom and no reason why, for instance, corpses should not always be made into useful soap as they were in Germany during the second world
is
war.
But such "mere prejudices" may not be prejudices

in
at
all.
They may be
rather a revulsion against a practice which violates something fundamental
human
nature, namely, that something which does not require burial
rather than cremation or cremation rather than burial but does require
ritual respect for the dead. Similarly, other
Nazi attitudes toward, say, the
victims of genocide
may
not be merely part of the unfamUar mores of
another race but one of the clear signs that Nazism consists of a whole complex of principles and practices repugnant not merely to "prevalent ideas of right and wrong" but to the nature of man himself. Perhaps, indeed, the fundamental horror of Nazism may be just that it follows further than we have yet followed the implications of the relativism we profess without yet having so consistently implemented them.
If it is true that
human
nature does require
some ceremonial
respect
for the bodies of the dead as a testimony of respect
and an expression of
awe
It
in the face of death, then that fact will suggest another generalization.
may be
true that cultures exhibit such a bewildering variety of actions
and
attitudes as to give a superficial air of probability to the conclusion
that all moral ideas
and
all
ideas of
what
constitutes propriety are
no more
than what limitlessly variable custom has established. Yet

variably believe that
diverse
men
almost in-
some beliefs and some customs are right. However and irreconcilable specific moral judgments are and have been, moral judgment itself has been a constantly continuing activity of the human mind. What no society has ever been able to believe for long is precisely the doctrine which ours has embraced namely, that morals are no more than mores. A sense that right and wrong (however difficult to determine) are nevertheless both real and tremendously important seems to be part of fundamental human nature. In simple societies no sanction other than custom may be needed to justify what is done or what is not done, because custom itself is naively accepted as the final arbiter and is not regarded as "mere" custom. The more intellectually sophisticated a society becomes, the more complicated the questions involved are seen to be, the more subtly they are investigated, and the less clear the answers. But the conviction that the difference between right and wrong is tremendously important persists and has hardly been got rid of even in those societies which profess the most imqualified relativism. To state the proposition in the most general possible terms, it comes down to this: An obvious characteristic of the nature of man is his inveterate habit of making value judgments. Perhaps he is the only animal who can give rational form to his preferences or is capable of calling them by such names as The Good and The Beautiful. But he cannot be better defined than by saying that he is the animal which can do and does insist upon doing just that.
The Conditioned
Yet
Man
249
which the cultural relativists most strangely overlook, both when they profess to be purely objective and when, as has often been the case, they draw lessons or "morals" of their own. They point out how irreconcilable different sets of customs and different sets of values can be. What is "good" in one primitive tribe is "bad" in another. They bid us therefore recognize the relativity of all such judgments and then, in the light of our understanding, divest ourselves of the "prejudices" of our
this is the fact
own culture. What they

denying what
fail to
society ever has

is
notice is the most striking fact of all: that no enduring been "unprejudiced" in that sense. Even if they insist upon
here maintained
namely,
that to have "prejudices"
necessary consequence of the nature of
man
they should
it
at least
is a admit
that such "prejudices" obviously have a tremendous "survival value."
A
ment
current college textbook of psychology gives a conveniently simple

says, "is
statement of the relativist position. "Moral conduct," so

clearly implies that
conduct
state-
of which a given society approves," and by the absoluteness of
its
"moral conduct" is also "nothing that. If the author is convinced that this is a truth which it is his scientist to promulgate, he should at least add also the simple "Undeniable as this fact is, no society which limited itself to this
it
but" just
duty as a
warning:
definition
(i.e.,
has ever endured for long."
To
try to
is
Hve without "moral prejudices"

it
without making value judgments)

Unless
are
to try to live in a condition so funda-
mentally repugnant to our nature that
cannot long continue.
we admit that man "natural," we cannot ask a

what
is
is
a creature to
whom
moral judgments
questions such as,
great
many meaningful
for example,
the
good
life,
as distinguished
from a "high standard
cannot ask them because they can be asked only in connection with some conviction concerning what kind of life it is in the nature of
of Uving."
We
man
to lead.
And
it is
because
we cannot
it.
discuss the
good
life
that
it
has
not become either so unqualified or so accessible as our mastery of the

physical environment should
make
We can
ask what are the "needs of industry."
We
can debate the
relative
merits of laissez faire, socialism, and any economic system in between
we confine ourselves to the question which of them most successfully promotes abundant production, not which makes a good life most accessible. We can also ask what laws and what system of education best meet the needs of either technology or pure science. But we cannot ask what would best meet the needs of man or consider the question whether or not, in any specific instance, the "needs of industry" (or even the needs of science) may require some modification in the interests of the possibly conflicting needs of man. We cannot ask any such questions because we have ceased to believe that man has any nature and believe instead that, since he has no needs of his own, he will "adapt" or "adjust" to whatever conditions are most favorable to industry, technology or science, or what not.
but only so long as
The only
categorical imperative
we
accept, almost the only inescapable
250
obligation
JOSEPH WOOD KRUTCH
we
feel, is
the obligation to realize the possibility of
all
the potentialities inherent
in technology.
faster, of producing more, or of exercising any increased power presents itself we accept the duty of moving faster and of wielding more power. What can be done must be done. But we feel no such responsibiUty toward the potentialities of human nature and we cannot do so as long as we continue to assume that such potentiahties do not exist except in so far as they consist in an almost
Whenever
moving
limitless adaptability to the conditions
which the nonhuman can
create.
That eighteenth century which believed so confidently in the law of nature and appealed so frequently to it fell often into a folly the opposite
had any meanwas very ready to proclaim that almost any attitude or custom with which it was thoroughly familiar and sympathetic was "in accord with nature" and any conflicting attitude or custom "contrary to nature." It was insufficiently aware as we certainly are not that to distinguish between the natural and the merely customary is often extremely difficult, perhaps
ing,
it
of ours. Instead of denying that the "natural" or "normal"
sometimes impossible. Against their sometimes fatuous pronouncements "cultural relativism" is in part a protest. Yet the difficulty was never really forgotten even when the reality of the distinction was most unquestioningly accepted. That habit is "second nature" is an idea so old that it fills our literature and John Donne can refer to "that demi-nature custom" without implying that custom is more than a simulacrum. Most certainly it behooves those of us who undertake to assert again that man does have a nature to be fully aware of the difficulties. The nature of man is something which may be inferred, not directly demonstrated, and the more specific any alleged characteristic of that
nature
is,
the less certain
it
will
be that
it
actually
is
"nature" and not what
We that human nature, though enormously variable and exceedingly plastic, is not infinitely so; that though men readily believe and want and do a great variety of different things, they are not readily or very often conditioned to believe or want or do certaiQ others; and that though the discoverable traits of their nature can generally be described only in very general terms our history is sufficiently well known to support the inference that some of the generalities can be
stated.
Donne called "demi." must begin with the minimum assertion
One such probably permanent
characteristic of the nature of
man
has
already been mentioned: namely, the persistence with which he
makes value
judgments of some kind and thus persistently raises the very questions which relativists dismiss as either demonstrably unanswerable or radically meaningless. He insists upon believing that right and wrong are real, that justice and injustice do exist, even though he is not certain what any of
them are. Even if we could
get
no further than
that,
we would have
already gone
The Conditioned
a long way.
tivism"
is
Man
would have demonstrated
that "cultural
251
and moral
rela-
We
a doctrine repugnant to the nature of
man and
that the attempt
to build a society
upon such
relativism
is
certain to reduce
him
to a condi-
which he can come to accept comfortably only in so far as he succeeds in dehumanizing himself. Anxiety, tension, and the other forms of malaise whose prevalence so many have observed with alarm are in part the penalty paid by those who have not been completely conditioned into action
cepting comfortably their condition.
The mass-man
is
the creature
who
has to some extent escaped the malaise by ceasing to be a
man
at
all.
About the nature of man we shall perhaps never have much detailed knowledge. The very fact that habit can imitate nature so cunningly may forever prevent the development of any body of positive, detailed knowledge comparable to that which has accumulated around other subjects in themselves less important. Perhaps there can never be a real science of man,
however much those who are trying to dehumanize him may believe that they have already founded it. The objectivity of science is possible only because it does involve a subject (man) and an object (the external world). But a science of man proposes that the subject call him the obshould be also the object; and that is impossible. Man server, if you like can observe other men "objectively" only in so far as he excludes from his observation the fact that they are men like himself. Therefore what is
nowadays
called the science of
man
is,
in actual fact, only the science
of man-considered-as-something-less-than-man.
We
shall
never see ourselves other than through a

will
glass, darkly.
For
that
always be disputes over the question whether or not some specific law or custom is or is not "in accord with nature." But to say that is to say only that right and wrong or the beautiful
and for other reasons there
and the ugly must continue to be, as they have always been, to some degree outside the scope of positive knowledge. Yet no matter how inconclusive any discussion which involves them may be, the very fact that the
discussion does take place
is
sufficient to set
any society which takes the
discussion seriously significantly apart from any society which tends, as
our
own
does, to consider
is
it
cerning what
right or
wrong
not worth engaging in. No disagreement conis so fundamental as that between those
is
and those who believe that on a lower level, no two sonone is more valid than any cieties can differ so greatly because of what they consider "good manners" as either differs from a society in which no such thing as "good manners"
who
believe that
some value judgment
valid
other. Similarly,
exists.
The appeal
to nature will, then, never settle the dispute
between the
any Lilliput. Perhaps, for instance, big-endians and monogamy is not "natural" and polygamy "unnatural," any more than burial of the dead is the one and cremation the other. But agam it may well
the little-endians in
252
JOSEPH WOOD KRUTCH
be true nevertheless that it is "natural" to accept some code rather than none at all governing the relations of the sexes just as it is natural to feel
"right and proper." Should we, however, ever come again to believe that the question whether or not something is "in accord with human nature" is a meaningful perthat
some ceremonial
disposition of the
dead
is
haps the most meaningful
manent human nature

is
in
many
question,
we
shall
want
to explore this per-
directions
and
test the extent to
which
it
possible to determine, with
istics
there
some degree of probability at least, characterof that nature somewhat more specific than any so far suggested. Are any which seem pretty obvious in the light of what we already know
about the histories of cultures? I myself should confidently say, "Yes, at least one other"; and it is this: Man is not by nature a pure materialist or satisfied with what are called common-sense value judgments. One of the most evident constants of hu-
man
and the vast They have sought God as the ancient Hebrews did, or, like the Greeks, beauty and wisdom. Below those levels they have sometimes put the highest value on glory, courage,
nature
is
the desire for
Goods other than
the material,
majority of cultures have put something else
first.
personal prowess, or military success and believed that comfort as well as

security
were well
sacrificed for them.

is
Even
the belief that a large collection

testifies to
of shrunken
human heads
the thing most to be desired
the
fact that to believe something
as
more worth having than material wealth is nearly universal as the behef that some things are good and some evil. society which, like ours, defines the good life as identical with the high
is
standard of hving
the nature of man.
running contrary to a fundamental characteristic of
In Notes from Underground, Dostoevsky asked: "Does not man, perhaps, love something besides well-being?" and then he half-answered his
own
question with, "Perhaps he
no doubt an exaggeration even what we are fond of calling a "neurotic exaggeration." But perhaps it is only an overstatement of the true reply. Perhaps the animals do not desire anything except well-being. That we cannot know. But that man does desire something else is part of his humanity. Call
that
it
is
just as
fond of suffering." This answer
is
perversity or call
either case
it
the determination to transcend the

exists
most obvious Goods. In
it
and
is
important, so important
we might well hesitate before trying to "condition" him out of it. Should we succeed, we might find that we had turned man back into an
animal again.
Could we at this moment get no further than the two statements already made, namely, that man is (1) inveterately a maker of value judgments and (2) not by nature a pure materialist or utilitarian, we should already have called attention to the fact that in at least these two important respects the present condition of man is one to which he cannot "adjust"
without violating his nature.
Thus the
ideal of the welfare state has
its
dangers unless
we
are
wUUng
The Conditioned
Man
what does
total welfare for a
253
to raise seriously the question, "In
human
being consist?"
And
that question cannot very well be raised without
some concept
oculist
of "normality."
Why
could
we
not follow the lead of Shaw's
and recognize that the criterion should be what an eye (or a man) can be rather than what either most often is? By any such definition a "normal human being" is some kind of individual, while the "average human being" is little more than a mass-man. Today we are obsessed with origins and must stretch a point to consider even potentialities. Perhaps we shall have again to recognize the meaning of entelechy to ask, that is to say, not merely what was the origin but also what is the destiny of man; not merely what is he but what is he striving to become? From the two statements already made about normal human nature one might well proceed to raise at least two questions not to be answered confidently, but upon which would in turn depend the answer to the question whether or not, in two other respects, our society is organized upon
"unnatural" assumptions.
Do men
The
naturally desire justice as well as believe that
it
is
a reality?
de-
ancient philosophers thought they did, whereas

is
we moderns have
cided that what they desire
only their individual or their class interest
instead. Should it turn out that the ancients were even partly right, that might make a great difference in our way of dealing with our fellows ^beginning even in the nursery and the kindergarten. Some child psychologists insist that what children need is "uncritical love" and that they should be made to feel that they can count upon it no matter how "naughty" they may be. Yet it is a common observation that what the unsympathetic call "spoiled" children seem very often exthe desire, even tremely unhappy. Can that be because the expectation that acts should have consequences and that the way one is treated should depend to some extent upon the way one behaves is latent on the not quite blank slate and constitutes the most primitive form of that idea of justice which, in some way and to some extent, all "normal" men do love. Perhaps a world which violently disappoints this expectation is seriously disturbing even to a child. Perhaps the best way to deal with delinquency and crime would be not to assume as we now tend to do that "society" is wholly to blame, but to mix some justice with "understanding." Perhaps if we did so both the delinquent and the criminal would be less "mixed up" just because he found himself in a society which, to that ex-
tent,
met one of the expectations of normal human nature. The second question would be whether the technology which has made
most men who
live in
the environment of
every "developed" country one

in
almost wholly
man-made has not placed them
what seems
to fundamental
human nature an abnormal environment. Perhaps the natural context for the human being is the context of the natural world. Once he was surrounded by other living things and his most intimate relations were with other men, with animals, and with plants. Now his most usual and intimate
254
business
is
JOSEPH WOOD KRUTCH

with machines. Does that tend to
ultimately responsible for the fact that he has

as a materialist
make him machinelike? become a mechanist as
Is it
well
and thus
tries to believe things
contrary to his nature?
Both the behavior of man and the condition of man have been exhaustively investigated in our century.
Any
attempt to investigate his nature
would certainly involve such questions as those we have just been raising and they cannot be answered so easily as questions concerning his condition (What proportion of homes has a telephone?) or his behavior (What is the average number of hours he spends in watching television?). But they are more significant. The attempt to study the nature of man would involve both what, on the evidence of history and anthropology, seem to be the constants and perhaps also an attempt to apply that reason which, as Professor Strauss pointed out, may be more important than "common consent" in any successful attempt to discover what "the natural" really is. Neither method will be easy for us to apply. The first will not be easy because of the inherent difiiculty in distinguishing between the habitual and the natural; the second because it must assume the validity of reason despite the fact that of all the faiths which modern man has lost the most disastrous
may
well be his loss of faith in reason

it
itself.
When
the eighteenth century
ceased to believe in revelation
proclaimed
its
faith in reason.
We
dismiss
reason as no more than the rationalization of individual interests, class interests,
and the prejudices of a particular

true
culture. Unless the lost faith is

is
to
some degree recovered no
humanism
possible.
ALFRED COBBAN
The Decline
in
Ethical Judgment
Alfred Cobban (1901-
) is
Professor of History in the University of
London.
an authority on the eighteenth century in the West, and has a special interest in the Enlightenment and its consequences. These passages from his In Search of Humanity show a thoughtful, open-minded believer in the world-view first fully stated and widely disseminated in our modern Western world in the late seventeenth and in the eighteenth centuries. This book is a good clear exposition of the world view or religion of Enlightis
He
enment, but an exposition motivated at least in part, like the address of Professor Murray with which we began this book, by an awareness that what has gone on so far in the twentieth century has for many persons weakened
the hold this world-view has firmly
on them. Professor Cobban is clearly and on the side of the angels of Enlightenment. But like all sensible
.
.
believers of his kind today, he shares the feeling that there
is
something
lacking in this world-view, that something needs to be done to modify and
strengthen
better
it is
it.
Like Professor Murray, he asks us to think more, and think

is
perfectly suitable suggestion, for the Enlightenment
nothing
if
not a form of rationalism. But Professor Cobban does throw us right back on the problem. The
question
not even answerable
"How rational is the human stuff?"
is
surely not answered
perhaps
in the sense the engineer
can answer a problem as
to the strength of given materials.
EACH AGE HAS MANY PROBLEMS, BUT AMONG THEM ONE OR ANOTHER^
seems
in turn to take
such problems
or to civilized
life, if it is
precedence and to present the major threat to society, not eliminated. In fact and this is encouraging
seldom are solved: most often they are transmuted by time, fade into the general mass of difficulties that beset every generation, and under the influence of some obsessive new threat are seen to be no longer as fundamental as was once thought. Boom and slump, inflation and
From Alfred Cobban, In Search of Humanity I960), pp. 11-13, 242-245.
(New York: George
Braziller, Inc.,
255
256
deflation,
ALFRED COBBAN
mass unemployment, over-production and under-production, economic crisis in all its forms, presented the basic problem of the 'twenties and 'thirties of this century. In the 'thirties the economic problem became also a political problem, assuming the menacing shape of totalitarianism. This in turn merged into total war, which in the period since the Second
World War has mushroomed
into the ultimate threat of the atomic or
hydrogen cloud. As we look back on these several crises they melt into one another and are seen to be less separable than we may have thought at
the time, as well as less novel.
Economic
distress, political tyranny,
though
all
now on
a large scale than ever before
are not new. Basic to
war them
are not the changing though calculable objective facts but the change-
and incalculable human behaviour that can at any moment give urgency to a perennial danger. To admit so much is to perform the opening gambit in the familiar manoeuvre which begins with a platitude and ends with Original Sin, the most convenient, indubitable and compendious of explanations for all huless
man
for
evUs. It has
many
advantages. Since
so long ago,
we
ourselves need not feel
it came about once for all, and more than a vicarious responsibility
it. At the same time, since it is now an integral part of human nature, we can hardly be expected to change it, at least in other people, who make up the majority of the human race. Original Sin, as such or secularized as simple human nature, is the perfect scapegoat for all the Uls of society. If, however, we concentrate our attention on human behaviour rather than human nature, the whole argument changes, for human behaviour has
frequently been altered in the past and therefore presumably can be altered
again. Thinking in terms of behaviour,
human
nature,
we may be
less willing to
into those mystic depths in
which
all
and forgetting that elusive thing seek salvation only by plunging remedial action is sunk without trace,
and more prepared

current
evils. It is
to concieve the possibility of positive effort to counter
not unreasonable to approach our problems from this

crises, totalitarianism,
direction.
Economic
war,
may
or
may
not be the
inevitable consequences of
human
at
nature.
They may be
the product of
good
be-
or bad, noble or ignoble motives.

results of
They may be
calculated, or unintended,
our actions. But
any
rate they are all aspects of
human
haviour, and
we
deplore them not because of their varying and suppositious
motivation, but because of the effects that flow from them.
From
this point
of view they can fairly be considered together, for not only are they together historically but their results are fundamentally the same.
crisis
bound Economic
alia the
meant declining standards of

exile,
life,
destitution,
and a kind of suspended
animation for masses of the people; totalitarianism meant inter
murder, torture,
or use as slave labour, of incalculable numbers of

fair idea
human
beings;
and we should have a
what
total
war
in the
form
Yet
of the hydrogen of pain or death

it is
bomb means.
on such a
All these add up to the deliberate infliction

it
colossal scale that
numbs
the imagination.
only the monstrous proportions that prevent us from recognizing what
The Decline
in Ethical
Judgment
257
dislike in all this as a very simple and common thing. On a smaller scale would be called cruelty. There may be other reasons for objecting to economic distress, totalitarianism and war, but the major reason why we regard them as such great evils is, I suggest, because they are inseparable from the infliction on a colossal scale of otherwise avoidable pain, suffering and death. This may be a mere emotional reaction, but it is a widespread and influential one and it is probably the determining factor in the identification of our major problems; because if we did not have this reaction we
we
it
should not necessarily have found these forms of behaviour objectionable,

or not objectionable in the particular
that such a supposition
is
inconceivable; but
is
feeling of revulsion against cruelty
which we do. It may be said it would only be so if the as much to be taken for granted as we
way
in
are apt to suppose.

this assumption needs further consideration could easily be demonfrom the contemporary world. It was brought to my mind during a short pleasure trip along one of London's canals, when the helmsman pointed out a family of ducks a mother and six or seven ducklings scuttling through the water in the prettiest way. There were nine or ten to begin with, he said, and she wiU be lucky if she rears two of them. He added, apart from those that will die from cold nights and natural enemies, the boys kill them by stoning. It seemed a pity, but for one's mind to veer to Belsen and Buchenwald was perhaps rather inconsequent. Between killing a baby duckling for pleasure and the murder of six, eight or ten million human beings, the difference is so great that it seems almost indecent to mention them in the same breath. Yet boys, or men and women, have done, or do, both; and one has only to look at popular fiction or films to suspect that many people, even those who would not easily bring themselves to do cruel things, enjoy reading about them or seeing them represented.
That
strated
It is possible to
return
now
to the
that of the increasing re-brutalization of
problem with which this inquiry began, contemporary life, particularly,
though by no means exclusively, manifested in its politics. In international relations, it may be said, an assertion of moral standards that the twentieth
century has deserted
is
necessary not only for the survival of civilized

life itself.
life
but for the survival of

first
human
is
This
is
the practical issue, and the
and simplest solution
obviously inadequate. Regimes which violently
we have inherited can be, and have been, and overthrown by force; but recent history shows that force by itself is not enough. Those who begin by opposing mere force to force, are liable to end by finding themselves copying the methods of their enemies. It is evident, secondly, that an appeal to the conscience of the individual is also not an adequate solution, for this evidently varies from individual to individual and even more from society to society. It is a mistake to suppose that the followers of Hitler, like those of Stalin, had or have
conflict
with the ethical standards
resisted
no moral
principles. In a sense they
had more than
their enemies, for they
258
ALFRED COBBAN
were prepared to kill and torture millions to uphold them. Similarly, the dropping of two atomic bombs on Japan, and in fact all the bombing of civilian populations, might be presented as a profoundly moral decision. It was one of which Western Europe in the eighteenth century would hardly have been capable. The point is not that some individuals or societies are moral and others are not, but that different ones have different moral principles, and the problem is to choose between them.
is to refuse to see that there is a problem at There are traditional standards, it may be said, which were good enough for our fathers and are all the stronger for having religious convictions behind them: all we need to do is to return to them. It would be foolish to all.
Thirdly, the easiest solution
The trouble is on the unquestioned acceptance of the decrees of a superhuman authority apart from objections on philosophical
that any system that depends
disregard the sanction that religion can add to a social ethic.
grounds
fact
can only
function successfully so long as the authority does in

it
remain unquestioned. Moreover,
has been shown that
it is
remark-
ably easy to replace one absolute authority by another, and the habit of accepting ethical standards because they are laid down by authority is
easUy transferred.
Spain,
An
examination of the recent history
of,
say, Italy,
Germany and
Russia, countries in which religious authority ap-
ligious sanction
peared to be particularly strong, must lead to some doubts whether the reis an adequate barrier against the rise of ideologies which promote, justify and institutionalize systems of terror and torture. further
difficulty is that traditional
systems of ethics are apt to include features
which were perhaps appropriate to earlier social situations, but which in a new situation may have lost their ethical content and have sometimes even become repulsive to contemporary morality. A fourth alternative, which has already been mentioned, is the appeal to science. There are intimate connections between the rise of science and moral progress. The scientific and empirical spirit of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries provided an essential element in the ethical achievements of enUghtened thought. One might have supposed that the further progress of the scientific outlook, and in particular its application in the field of social and political life, would have promoted, for example, a progressive decline in irrational cruelties. This has not proved so, and the reason, as has been suggested above, is that science by itself is a form of knowledge, not a stimulus to action. It can help us to adapt the means we employ to the ends we wish to achieve, it cannot choose those ends for us. This is why the great growth in scientific knowledge has proved no barrier to the decay of ethical thought. Indeed, the social sciences, as they have grown in stature, have endeavoured to assimilate the ethical
indifference of the physical sciences.
This series of negative answers seems to leave us with only one recourse.
The
effective stimulus to social morality, I suggest,
can only come directly
from developments of the
ethical judgment, such as took place in the
En-
The Decline
in Ethical
Judgment
259
lightenment of the eighteenth century. Fifth-century Greece witnessed a
which continued in some respects up both these ages the process was set off by a great increase of interest in the problems of ethics. Correspondingly, the decline in standards in recent times was preceded and accompanied by a decline in the discussion of public and political behaviour in
ethical thought,
comparable wave of
to the first century of the Christian era. In
ethical terms.
In the absence of rational and ethical discussion of the ends of society,
has tended to turn into either the analysis of mere power no attempt at judgment on them, or else the repetition of shibboleths, words like "peace" and "democracy" which may mean anything or nothing, but which because of their former ethical connotation can be employed as substitutes for the discussion of practical ethical issues. They have become at best mere classificatory symbols like the old school tie, which can be used alike by those who are and by those who are not entitled to them. Their hollowness is the measure of the problem before us.
political theory
relations, with
that
The apparent inadequacy of other solutions, however, does not mean we are thrown back on a simple recapitulation of the ideas of the
It
would be a mistake to suppose that they would neceswhat they did to their creators. The principles of the Enlightenment, to which we now cling largely out of sheer force of habit when we condemn the things in the contemporary world that we generally do condemn, may or may not be capable of resuscitation in the form in which they were originally stated. Codes of moral behaviour and ideals
Enlightenment.
sarily
mean
to us
are necessarily related to circumstances; they
may become
irrelevant not
only because of moral progress or regression, but also as a result of changes

in the facts to
which they are
related.
The Enlightenment can only be a

civilization;
starting-point. It represents the achievements of the last stage of vigorous

ethical discussion in the history of
Western
and
it is
not
difficult
to see that
then.
we can profitably take up the argument where it was dropped Though we may hope to reach a minimum of ethical agreement, such
as is needed to restore some sense of purpose to civilization and has always been necessary for the survival of a community, the actual discussion is more important than arriving at particular conclusions, which will, as always, have their limitations and their transient features. A genuine and widespread discussion of the problems of society and government, considered as moral issues, has the virtue that whatever conclusions are reached will not be arbitrary ones, created to fit the terms of an hypothesis: they will be framed by positive conditions and dictated by the needs of the age. The twentieth century is belatedly becoming aware that something is missing, though it hardly as yet knows what that is. The more "advanced"
the country, the
more
this
gap
is
felt.
It is
the price that
is
paid for the
creation of a technological society, which devotes endless energy to the
problem of how to do
things, but
little
thought to vi^hether they are worth
doing. Serious ethical and political discussion
was the
first
victim; there are
260
signs,
ALFRED COBBAN
where the devotion to technology has reached
the next. This
is
its
height, that science
may be
more or
less speculative,
but the results of the
decline of moral and political theory have been patent in the world at large.
They have
most pronounced in countries where the ethical was most superficial, but it would be simple self-deceit to suppose that they are confined to them. Even if we condemn, for example, the monstrous cruelties of the contemporary world, the conflict between the behaviour which we condemn, and the moral consciousness which leads us to condemn it, is an unequal struggle so long as, while the behaviour is concrete enough, the moral consciousness remains merely an historical memory, a repetition of cliches with no active thought behind it. The object of this study has been to raise questions rather than to provide answers. But the thing we perhaps most need to learn is the importance of asking these questions. We have inherited everything else from the Enlightenment and only forgotten the thing that was essential.
naturally been
influence of the Enlightenment
HERBERT
J.
MULLER
The Nature of Man
Herbert
tory,
J.
Muller (1905-
) is
at Indiana University, author of
Professor of English and Government two remarkable surveys of Western his-
The Uses of the Past and The Loom of History. Professor Muller's view of human nature is considerably more serene and balanced than that of Joseph Wood Krutch, and, I should maintain, much nearer that held
by most thoughtful Americans today.
THE POWER TO CHOOSE AND CARRY OUT HIS
OWN
PURPOSES MAY BE HELD

is
the essential condition of man's claim to peculiar dignity and worth. This
a disputable claim, especially in view of the use he has

in recent times. It raises further questions. Is
his
made
of this
power
man
actually free to choose
really want to be independent? Such questions in turn force a broader, more fundamental one: What is the essential nature of man? Implicit in all ethical and political theory, as in all the higher religions, is some conception of human nature. Any serious thought about what is good for man logically
own
purposes?
If so, is
he
fit
for freedom?
Does he
requkes some idea of what he

a deeper confusion.
is
good
for.
And
here
is
the beginning of
In our
soul
own
tradition the oldest,
older than Plato
has
most
persistent definition of
man
split
him
in two, conceiving
him
as
an Immortal
somehow imprisoned
in flesh. Christian thought intensified this dual-
ism, magnifying both the beast
creature, a cesspool of natural depravity;

tially fit for
an eternity of bliss he had been created. Secular thinkers then seized upon either of his dual aspects as the fundamental truth about him. To Hobbes he was incorrigibly selfish and aggressive, always lusting after power, and could be made obedient only by fear. To the philosophers of the Enlightenment he was naturally good and potentially
still
and the angel in man. He was a fallen and he was nevertheless potenwith his Heavenly Father, in whose image
better,
perfectible
by
virtue
From
Herbert
J.
Muller, Issues of
Freedom (New York: Harper &
Brothers,
1960), pp. 21-36.
261
262
century he was studied
interest
HERBERT
J.
MULLER
of being a rational animal, and therefore deserving of freedom. In the

last
major
and the new sciences of
sociology, anthropology.
much more intensively as history became a man got under way psychology, As a result we nOw have an immense body of
knowledge, and a profounder confusion than ever before. Having gone

through the mill of Darwin, Nietzsche, Marx, Freud, Pareto, and Dewey, looked into the mirror of Zola, Dostoyevsky, D. H. Lawrence, Joyce, Kafka, and Sartre, modern man may be forgiven some uncertainty about his being. And these radically different conceptions of human nature not
only have as different theoretical consequences for the good
life
and the
enables
good
society,
but
make some
difference in man's actual behavior. Alspirit that
though the ordinary
man
has a certain toughness of

less
him
to resist his mentors, he wants to

is
sense
a tissue of
more or
be "natural," and his common unconscious theory about his nature.
He may
sistence
violently resent criticism of his self-image.
The confusion is not hopeless, however. Much of it is due to an inon strictly undemonstrable assumptions, such as man's possession of an immortal soul, and more especially to an arbitrary selection of some one potentiality of human nature as its "essence." The fact remains that we do have an immense body of reliable knowledge, in particular the advantage of historical and anthropological perspectives that make it fairly easy to discount the many oversimplified definitions of man. It is possible, I think, to reach an agreement upon some broad generalizations
not
broad enough
to include
all
the ideal possibilities cherished
by
many men,
but adequate as premises for a study of
human
freedom, and
even surprisingly helpful in avoiding

ingly stating as objective truths, not
common
confusion. I
am
accord-
mere hypotheses or
articles of faith,
the premises that
man
is
a social animal, an animal with unique powers
of mind, and therefore a culture-building animal. Through the develop-
ment of
culture,
tually realized that
which long tended to obscure the individual, he evenhe was also an animal with a distinctive capacity for
I take
it
individuahty, or personality.
That he
flesh, the
is
an animal
is
unquestioned. This
is
the body, the
him that believers in his inmiortal destiny are the first to emphasize. With other animals he shares such basic drives as hunger and sex, such basic emotions as fear and rage, and all the physical limits on freedom. He can also enjoy sensations of physical well-being, take
beast in
pleasure in his kinship with other forms of

natural world. Everyone
life,
feel
at
home
in the
knows these elemental pleasures and pains of the flesh, the beginnings of good and evil, but lofty thinkers tend to slight them. They have often sought a freedom from all bodily desire, under
the aegis of disembodied reason or
spirit.
Gratified by the thought that

forget that
man
cannot
it,
live
on bread
alone, they
may
man
cannot
live
without
that untold millions have died for

still
want of
most of the world's population
have to
live
and that today without enough of it. They

it,
The Nature of
Man
bad
in bodily suffering, or
263
even view health with
is
may
some
still
see nothing very

suspicion.
That
man
is
a social animal should be as plain. In this respect he
akin to the
many
to
is
other animals
who
live in flocks,
herds, swarms,
mention the highly developed insect societies. The man a social state if only because of the prolonged helplessness of the human infant. As far back as we can see him, in prehistoric caves, we find him living in groups; and as he emerges more clearly we see him differing from other animals in that he takes care not only of his young but his old, even his dead. Nowhere do we see the
and schools, not

"state of nature"
for
anarchic individualism, the endless war of

natural tendency. Looking to the
all
against
all,
that
pictured as his natural state, and Schopenhauer assumed
our midst
we
unformed
child
was
his
Hobbes most
to
the
little
savage in
see
him eager
to learn all kinds of rules,
and indeed
make them up. Even so, many

social animal,
"realists" still assume that man is essentially an antian egotist whose oldest, deepest instincts are hostile to law and order. Such assumptions grew out of the traditional emphasis on the natural depravity of man, and grew more plausible in a highly competitive society devoted to the pursuit of wealth and power. They took on the appearance of scientific authority from evolutionary thought, with its early emphasis on the constant struggle for survival. They were confirmed by Freud, who saw a blind self-seeking and mutual antagonism as
the primal drive in the unconscious,
described conscience as
plainly
"merely
the dread of society," and regarded civilization as a ceaseless struggle

against the state of nature.
And
there
is
some
truth in such views,
which in complacent periods may be the truth that most needs to be said. Any parent knows that the human child is not a born angel, trailing clouds of glory, and that he likes to break rules too. The best friends of man have always known that he has selfish, egotistical, unsocial tendencies. From their different point of view champions of individual freedom have likewise assumed a basic hostility between the individual and society. Yet the historical evidence overwhelmingly confirms the natural sociality of man. Almost all societies, from the most primitive to the most civilized, have emphasized duties much more than rights or liberties, and almost all their members have accepted these duties without protest. The inconstant creature feared by political philosophers has generally been constant in obedience, often submitting to what may strike us as wholly arbitrary, unnecessary constraints on his selfish interests. From the evolutionary point of view, the struggle for survival has been primarily a struggle between species, not individuals, and man has succeeded primarily by co-operating, not fighting with his fellows. Today we overlook the
extraordinary extent of his co-operative behavior
by organized competition
because
co-operation
required
it
is
less
conspicuous and dramatic
264
HERBERT
J.
MULLER
than competitive, aggressive behavior, or simply because

to take
it
we have come
for granted. If
men
less
is
are naturally antagonistic, as Freud be-
lieved, they
have none the
succeeded so well in Uving together that
the "abnormal" individual

of the group.
the one
who
does not accept the constraints
champions of individual freedom, they are a rare type historically, and have rarely been popular. Their ardor testifies that the impulse to accept and obey is much stronger than the impulse to rebel. To define man as a social animal is therefore no more idealistic than
for the
to call a bee a social insect.
As
His sociality does indeed provide a natural
basis for idealism, in that his "selfish" interests always include the interests of
some other
selves, the
need of warmth and
affection. It involves
a natural sympathy and natural piety, as in the care of his dead, which
may
is
flower in ideals of our
common
it is
humanity, or of "natural rights";
it
not based primarily on anything so uncertain as enlightened

this is also to say that
is
self-interest.
But
generally unreasoned. Another

is
word
for
man's constancy
inertia,
another word for sociaUty

it
herd
instinct.
Today
the
common word
for
is
conformism.
It
men
are not intelligent

to
enough
to pursue their
own
interests,
can be said that most not courageous
enough
all
fraternity.
It cannot be said that sociality means simple have never loved their neighbors as themselves, still less other men. Their natural loyalty to their own group has always tended
have self-esteem.
Men
to
make them
suspicious of outsiders, hostile to other groups. Societies
have most clearly exhibited the selfishness and aggressiveness that have been attributed to the anti-social nature of man, and conflicts between them have been fiercer because their members have usually been wilHng to sacrifice their personal interests to the cause, even to die for the group.
Hence
"realists"
may
still
find suflicient propensity to evil, or,

is
if
they
prefer, Original Sin.
My
point
merely that
it is
not
realistic to describe
man
fear.
as an animal
natural instincts, and
who has been driven into who can be held there

is
society in defiance of his
only by force or through
no more natural to him than the life of own society, which has set up an ideal of individualism, encouraged competition in education and recreation as well as business, demanded an unprecedented extent of co-operation, achieved an unprecedented degree of organization, and provided an unprecedented wealth of opportunity for self-realization and for maladjustment, it is both more tempting and more misleading to assume an inveterate hostility between the individual and society. The rugged individualism that alarms some critics and the lack of individuality that depresses others are alike social products. Today, as in the past, society dominates the great majority of its members. From its domination arise the major issues of freedom. Also beyond dispute, and a source of incessant dispute, are the powers of mind that most clearly distinguish man from all other animals. In physiological terms, he has by all odds the most complex, elaborate nerlife
The
of the lone wolf
the hermit. In the tensions of our
The Nature
of
Man
which gives him
solve problems, learn
abilities
265
different
and many down from experience after a fashion; only man can consciously remember what he learns, conceptualize it, put it into words, teach it to his young. With his power of reasoning he has as distinctive capacities of imagination, sensibility, and
vous system, centered in the brain, not only in degree but in kind from "higher" animals. Some animals can to chickens, fish, and cockroaches
the intelligence displayed
by other
can
insight.
His consciousness
is
a stream of perceptions, intuitions, feeUngs,
unimaginably different from whatever goes on in an animal's mind. As Dewey observed, the idiomatic meanings of mind give a more comprehensive, just idea of its nature than do the formal definitions of logicians and most psychologists. I have states of of mind, good and bad; I make up or change my mind; I keep things on it, and put it on matters; I may lose it, though without losing my consciousness or my nervous system; I may be of two minds or half a mind; I mind my step, mind my own business; I mind my children and make them mind me; I mind if I am deprived of my freedom. Ultimately mind involves the vague but real power of the "human spirit," which seeks the good, the true, and the beautiful, and inspires the exalted idea of soul. Immediately it also involves less agreeable possibiUties. Because
fantasies, impulses, thoughts
can make conscious choices, he may make unintelligent, ridiculous, No other animal is so stupid as a human fool. Only with drastic qualifications, then, can man be defined as a "rational animal." His experience is much broader and richer, untidier and wilder, than a pure rationalist would have it. His basic impulses to eat, to make love, to rest, or simply to go on living are all non-rational; his behavior is often positively irrational, more "brutal" than the purely instinctive behavior of brutes. Still, this is to judge him by rational standards, and finally to emphasize his capacity for rational thought and behavior. The capacity is most apparent in the practical activities by which he has gained power over the natural environment, but it is also implicit in his co-operation with his fellows. In every known society he has recognized the principle of ought by assuming responsibilities, committing himself to duties at the expense of his own sweet pleasure. In every society he is held responsible, punished when he does what he ought not to do. In
even
fatal choices.
man
civilized societies those
who
insist
on the basic
irrationality of
man
stiU
lay
he obey it, stay in his place. Such demands on him are grounds for the assumption that he ought to be treated as potentially a rational animal, not a brute. If thought does not make the whole dignity of man, as Pascal declared, his capacity for thought in the broadest sense remains the clearest index of his humanity,
insist that
down
the law for
him and
the basis of his claims to dignity and worth
and
so to the right of
freedom.
Together with his sociality, it has made him a culture-building animal. Whereas every generation of apes begins and ends where the last genera-
266
tion did, without benefit of the
HERBERT
wisdom of
begin by acquiring the knowledge,
J.
MULLER
their ancestors, the children

skills,
of
men
and
arts
accumulated
over the countless generations before them. With these they absorb the
whole way of life of the fathers. And here the most pertinent fact is the most conspicuous one in an anthropological and historical view the extraordinary diversity of the world's cultures. It makes plain what is never plain to men in any given society. Man lives primarily in a symbolical world, a world of his own creation. Always set in a natural environment, always compelled to deal with natural forces, he gets from his society all his ruhng ideas about the nature of the world and how to deal with it. His basic "reality" is not physical but cultural, spiritual. He begins learn-
ing metaphysics in his cradle. If he
becomes a professional metaphysician,
he
is
more
likely to lose sight of the cultural facts of Ufe.
So we might pause to consider the familiar term nature, which is as ambiguous and confusing as any in the language. His mentors have often told man to live "in accordance with Nature," finding in Nature the source of his duties and more recently of his rights. So capitalized, the word means something like God and enjoins some ethical code, but it only veils the mystery of the nature and the will of God; what code it enjoins will depend upon the speaker and his culture. Another common meaning of nature, the unbaptized universe and everything in it, is no more helpful; in this sense nothing can be contrary to nature, whatever man chooses to do is a natural event in the universal show. In the more common sense of the external world, everything in the universe apart from man, nature becomes more misleading. It may now mean a bountiful provider, a haven from care, a playfield, a bloody battleground, a constant menace, an enemy of all man's works a spectacle beautiful or grim,
serene or wild, majestic or awful; but
if
the famiUar counsel to "follow

it
nature" means to follow instincts, live like other animals,
is
positively
inhuman so
far as
it
is
feasible at
all.
At
best, the simple idea of going
back to nature simply obscures the real problem, the ultimate concern of all philosophy and religion the problem of what is the good life for man, a creature for whom all kinds of behavior, from loving to killing,
are
on the face of
it
"natural."
nature
"human" nature is a second made by man, not simply born in him. Whatever instincts he is bom with may be cultivated, blended, modified, diverted, or suppressed in so many different ways that they appear to be bare potentialities, raw materials for the unconscious artistry of culture. The ruling drive in one society may be a matter of indifference to another, a positive abnormality to still another. Hence when men grew self-conscious and sophisImmediately
it
obscures the basic fact that
largely
ticated
enough
to inquire into their nature,
their culture
suggested the
answers; and the endless confusion began. In the Western world the
answers grew more diverse as society grew more complex and unsettled,
but the confusion was intensified by the nature of thinkers
their
common
The Nature
of
Man
One
instead of the
267
craving for simplicity, the

the
Many. Bent on reducing
many apparent
it
motives to a single ruling motive, they have variously

viîll
defined
as self-interest, the
to power, sexual drive, the craving for
freedom, the craving for security. Today

implications of the diversity of
of
life
that alike
many still overlook the plain human culture, the radically different ways seem natural to men brought up in them. The most
solemn injunctions about the needs of Man usually spring from the parochial needs of some contemporaries. We can still make out basic uniformities, however, else we could not speak of man at all. Men everywhere have a common structure, common needs and desires, common capacities; everywhere they have to cope with the same exigencies of birth, growth, sex, toU, suffering, and death. Their common mortality is the strongest reminder that their common humanity
is
not a mere ideal, but a
fact.
Hence even
the apparent artificialities of
culture are to
some
it
extent natural outgrowths of

patently unnatural for
man
and
might think
toenails
were it not that women have always been doing such things, back as we can see; and men have seemed no less interested in improving on God's or nature's handiwork. The universal vanity involves the common possession of an aesthetic sense. The rise of civilization brought ways of life that would seem still more artificial, except that all along the most natural behavior for man was evidendy not to follow nature but to master it, adapt it to his own purposes. Finally, in the Greek world, there emerged the ideal of culture in the high sense of the word, the
as far
common potentialities. A women to paint their fingernails
conscious cultivation of
truth, goodness,
human
nature and
this
its
capacities for the pursuit of
and beauty. With
troublesome product of civilization

dignity of
emerged the choicest and the most

the self-conscious individual.
The
man, wrote G. H. Mead, consists in the fact that when he calls upon himself he finds himself at home. In the Western world this fortunate caller has dared as never before,
He has made extreme claims for himself. He has demanded political freedom, to participate in the determination of the group purposes, the means to the common good; individual freedom within
dared even to stand alone.
the state to carry out his private purposes, realize his
against the state, to assure his inalienable rights.
own
good; freedom
has proclaimed the supreme value of personality, even when he no longer identifies it with an immortal soul. He has declared that the individual must be regarded
as
He
an end
in himself
the state exists only to serve him.

is
He
is
therefore apt to forget that he
consciousness other animals

ness. If
may have
is
a parvenu in history. Whatever certainly not self-conscious-
man
in primitive societies ever thinks of calUng
upon
himself,
he seldom finds his self; he has little consciousness of individuality apart from his group, and less of rights against it. In most civiUzations it never occurred to men to think of consciousness as intrinsically individual, or of individuality as the quintessence of human nature. Hence, too, this
268
HERBERT
J.
MULLER
parvenu has been liable to extravagance. His rise in the world has inspired an atomic individualism that represents society as a kind of artificial bond, created by self-conscious individuals for the sake of enlightened self-interest, with the policeman on the corner to keep watch on the unenlightened; a rugged individualism that makes self-interest a moral principle, and tends to narrow and impoverish individuality by an exclusive devotion to economic ends; a romantic individualism, or cult of genius, that conceives individuaUty as the sum or essence of what distinguishes or separates a man from his fellows, excluding all that unites them. It becomes necessary to repeat the commonplace that man is a social animal. His very consciousness is a social product; he becomes aware of himself only through
his relations with other selves. Likewise his individuality
can be realized
only in a society, and a rich one achieved only in a highly developed society.
The
gospel of individualism is itself a product of a free society. Today, however, students of society are most likely to ignore the individual or to deny his importance. Anthropologists have generally treated him as a mere carrier of culture, which has its own laws and seems to carry on by itself. Historians concentrate on the deep, involuntary processes of social change, and in reacting against the Hero theories of history they often explicitly minimize the role of individuals. Sociologists likewise concentrate on impersonal processes that may appear to be automatic. Some have declared that the individual is only a cell in the social organism, and that as
a creature having an independent
reality
he
is
a "discredited hypothesis";
more have buried him

a monster
in statistical abstractions like the "average

life
man"
even the
who has IVz children. Many students of the great men of the past study them primarily as
It
and work of
products of their
appears that the deepest meaning of a play by Shakespeare or Racine must be the thought or feehng of age or examples of major tendencies.
their time.
most ordinary men of

I
what most needs to be stressed today is the reahty and the unique importance of the individual. Physiologically, man is the most highly individuahzed of animals, and as he developed his latent powers of mind he would naturally become more so. Individual differences have made a great deal of difference, even if during most of his history man has put httle stock in any except military prowess; for whatever progress he has made must ultimately be traced to them. Knowing nothing about the origins of culture, we can stUl be confident that it was a very
therefore judge that
gradual, unplanned growth, not the conscious creation of farsighted individuals; yet
it
did depend
upon
the discoveries and inventions of exceptional
dream up the idea of pots and looms and came a massive growth that may look involuntary and certainly was beyond the understanding and control of the individual; yet it involved more conscious doing and making, in which gifted individuals had freer play for creative achievement. If society now
individuals. "Society" did not
wheels. With the rise of civilization
made
possible a Socrates, a Confucius, an Archimedes, a Christ,
it
still
The Nature
of
Man
greatness
269
cannot claim
full credit for their
it
produced
chiefly ordinary
it
men.
as
And
as
we
begin to trace the growth of freedom,
necessary to keep an eye on the individual. Whether or not
becomes more we regard him

it is
an end in himself, the freedom of a society
is
meaningful only as
exercised by individuals, and can be observed only in their behavior.
that has
more debatable issue, however, is raised by the democratic made so much of the individual and done so much
tradition
for him.
who helped to shape this tradition commonly assumed that man is a rational animal who has not only a natural right to freedom but a natural passion for it. History hardly supports this congenial idea: until recently the masses of men have not demanded such a
Eighteenth-century philosophers
right or displayed
such a passion. History suggests rather that Dostoyev-
may have been right. For the great majority of freedom of choice offered by Christ is an intolerable burden; what they want and need first of all is bread, and then "miracle, mystery, and authority." Now psychologists and sociologists are asserting that the ruhng passion of man is for security. Hitler may have been sincere when he proclaimed himself an emancipator: "Providence has ordained that I should be the greatest liberator of humanity. I am freeing man from the demands of a freedom and personal independence that only a few can
sky's
Grand
Inquisitor
man, he
said, the
sustain."
ST.
AUGUSTINE
Confession
St.
Augustine, whom we have already met in these pages, has left in his Confessions one of the most remarkable, and in a sense historically the
autobiographies.
earliest, of true
The book was,
like everything else

it is
he
is
wrote, part of a great apologia for the Christian faith. But
not "prop-
aganda"
in the
trying very
bad modern sense that word has acquired. Augustine hard to get inside himself, to see himself as God made him.
MY MIND, YOUR GIFT, AND OF chanced that a task was set me, a task which I did not like but had to do. There was the promise of glory if I won, the fear of ignominy, and a flogging as well, if I lost. It was to declaim the words uttered by Juno in her rage and grief when she could not keep the Trojan prince from coming to Italy. I had learnt that Juno had never said these words, but we were compelled to err in the footsteps of the poet who had invented them: and it was our duty to paraphrase in prose what he had said in verse. In this exercise that boy won most applause in whom the passions of grief and rage were expressed most powerfully and in the language most adequate to the majesty of the personage represented. What could all this mean to me, O My true Life, My God? Why was there more applause for the performance I gave than for so many classmates of my own age? Was not the whole business so much smoke and wind? Surely some other matter could have been found to exercise mind and tongue. Thy praises. Lord, might have upheld the fresh young shoot of my heart, so that it might not have been whirled away by empty trifles, defiled, a prey to the spirits of the air. For there is more than one way of
GIVE
ME
LEAVE, O
MY
I
GOD, TO SPEAK OF
it.
the follies in which
wasted
It
sacrificing to the fallen angels.
Yet
Thee,
it
My
was no wonder that I fell away into vanity and went so far from God, seeing that men were held up as models for my imitation
F.
J.
Sheed
From Saint Augustine, The Confessions. Translated by & Ward, 1942), Book I, sections XVII-XX.
Sheed (New York:
270
Confession
271
with shame
who were covered

evil,
they
praised,
if, in relating some act of theirs in no way some barbarism or grammatical solecism: yet were and delighted to be praised, when they told of their lusts, pro-
fell
into
vided they did so in correct words correctly arranged. All these things
seest,
Thou
mercy and truth. But wilt Thou always stay silent? Even now Thou dost draw out of this pit of horror the soul that seeks Thee and thirsts for Thy joys, the heart that says to Thee I have sought Thy face: Thy face, Lord, will I still seek: for to be darkened in heart is to be far from Thy face. It is not on our feet or by movement in space that we go from Thee or return to Thee:
Lord, and art
silent: for
Thou
art patient
and plenteous
in
Thy prodigal son did not charter horses or chariots or ships, or fly with wings or journey on his two feet to that far country where he wasted in luxurious living what Thou as a loving father hadst given him on his
departure
loving
all
when Thou
didst give,
more loving
still
to
Thy son when
poor and stripped. To be lustful, that is darkened, in heart, far from Thy face. is to be Behold, O Lord My God, and, seeing, see patiently, with what anxious care the sons of men observe the rules of letters and syllables taught by the
he returned,
speakers of our tongue before us, while they neglect the eternal rules of
everlasting salvation taught
lished rules of pronunciation
'h'
if
by You. The learner or teacher of the estabis held more contemptible if he drops an
and speaks of a 'uman being^
he hates a
human
being
thus breaking a law of language

is
than
him Ob-
thus breaking a law of God. It
strange that
to us than
we should we do
less
not realise that no
enemy could be more dangerous

is
the hatred with which
we
hate him, and that by our efforts against
damage
to
our enemy than

is
wrought
in
our
own
heart.
not more deeply engraved in us than the law of conscience against doing to another what one would not bear if God the only great, dwelling done to oneself. How hidden art Thou,
viously the knowledge of letters
and by Thy untiring law sending blindness as the punishment for unlawful lusts. A man seeking the fame of eloquence before a judge who is also a man, with a multitude of men standing about inveighs against his adversary with inhuman hatred. Such a man will be most vigilantly on guard lest by a slip of the tongue he drop an 'h' and murder the word "human": yet worries not at all that by the fury
in silence in the high places,
of his
mind he may murder a
real
human.
These were the ways of the world upon whose threshold I stood as a more concerned I was training to avoid committing a grammatical error than to be void of envy in case I did commit one and another did not. This I say and confess to Thee, O My God: and in this I was praised by those whom my one idea of success was to please. I did not see the whirl of vileness into which I had been cast
boy, and such was the arena for which
away from Thy

^
eyes: for
what was more unclean than
I,
seeing that I did
Thus neatly does Dr. Pusey represent the man who for "hominem" says "ominem."
272
not win the approval even of
ST.
AUGUSTINE
my own
all
kind: I told endless
lies to
my
tutors,
my
masters and
my
parents:
for the love of games, the craving for
and a restlessness to do what I saw done in these shows. from my parents' cellar and table, sometimes because I was gluttonous myself, sometimes to have something to give other boys in exchange for implements of play which they were prepared to sell although they loved them as much as I. Even in games, when I was clearly outplayed I tried to win by cheating, from the vain desire for first place. At the same time I was indignant and argued furiously when I caught anyone doing the very things that I had done to others. When I was caught myself, I would fly into a rage rather than give way. Is this boyhood innocence? It is not. Lord. I cry Thy mercy, O My God. Yet as we leave behind tutors and masters and nuts and balls and birds and come to deal with prefects and kings and the getting of gold and estates and slaves, these are the qualities which pass on with us, one
stage shows,
I stole
stage of
life
taking the place of another as the greater punishments of
the law take the place of the schoolmaster's cane. Therefore,
O God
our
King,
when you
said "of such
is
the
Kingdom
of Heaven,"
it
could only
have been humility as symbohsed by the low stature of childhood that you were commending.
owed thanks to You, My God and the most and Ruler of the Universe, even if it had been Your will that I should not Uve beyond boyhood. For even then I was; I lived: I felt: even so early I had an instinct for the care of my own being, a trace in me of that most profound Unity whence my being was derived; in my interior sense I kept guard over the integrity of my outward sense perception, and in my small thoughts upon small matters I had come to delight in the truth. I hated to be wrong, had a vigorous memory, was well trained in speech, delighted in friendship, shunned pain, meanness and ignorance. In so small a creature was not all this admirable and reason for praise? Yet all these were the gifts of my God, for I did not give them to myself. AU these were good and all these were I. Therefore He Who made me is good and He is my Good: and in Him I shall exult for all the good qualities that even as a boy I had. But in this lay my sin: that I sought pleasure, nobility, and truth not in God but in the beings He had created, myself and others. Thus I fell into sorrow and confusion and error. Thanks be to Thee, my Joy and my Glory and my Hope and my God: thanks be to Thee for Thy gifts: but do Thou preserve them in me. Thus Thou wUt preserve me, and the things Thou hast given me will increase and be made perfect, and I shall be with Thee: because even that I exist is Thy gift.
Yet, Lord I should have
excellent Creator
FRANCOIS,
DUG
de
LA ROCHEFOUCAULD
Self-Portrait
"Portrait of Himself" is no full autobiography, but a mere sketch that seems to have been originally written for reading in literary salons. But it is an interesting example of a genre which is of particular value to the student of human nature, and even to the professional
La Rochefoucauld's
psychologist.
AM OF MEDIUM
is
BUILD, BROAD
AND WELL-PROPORTIONED. MY COM-
plexion
wide,
dark, but fairly uniform;
my
forehead
is
high and reasonably
eyes are black, small, deep-set, with brows that though black and thick are well-formed. I find it hard to give a proper descripition of my or so at nose, for it is neither flat, nor aquiline, nor thick, nor pointed is on the large rather than the least it seems to me. All I can say is that it
my
my
it is perhaps a trifle too long. I have a big mouth and which are usually rather red, are neither well nor iU shaped. My teeth are white and passably regular. In the old days I used to be told that I had too much chin: I have just felt it, and also looked in the glass to see if this is so, and I really cannot say whether it is true or not. As for the shape of my face, it is either squarish or oval: I should find it hard
small side, and that

lips,
to be sure which.
My
hair
is
black, curls naturaUy,
and
is
sufficiently
long
and thick for
me
to be able to claim a fine
head of
hau".
My
expression has
something of gloom and also of pride to it: this has led most people to assume that I am contemptuous of them, though no assumption could be further from the truth. I move with ease and perhaps slightly too much, to
the extent that I gesticulate a great deal
when
talking.
That
is
my
frank
opinion of
is
my
appearance, and
it
will
I
not far removed from the truth.
ing part of this self-portrait; for I
be found, I think, that this description shall be equaUy honest in the remainhave studied myself enough to know
From La Rochefoucauld, Maxims. Translated by Constantine FitzGibbon (London: Allen Wingate, 1957), pp. 24-30.
273
274
myself well, and
to
I have both sufficient self-assurance to be able to speak openly of those good qualities I may possess and enough sincerity to admit
my
defects.
first
In the
place,
my prevailing humour may be
described as melancholic,
to the extent that in these last three or four years I
have hardly been
more than three or four times. Nevertheless it seems to me that my melancholia would be sufficiently bearable and gentle were it derived solely from my temperament: but I have been afflicted with so
to laugh
known
many
extraneous causes for sadness, which have so filled my imagination and preoccupied my mind, that I usually sit in silence, lost in thought, or when I do speak it is in an abstracted fashion. I am extremely reserved with strangers, and I am not even very open with most of the people whom I know. This is a defect, as I am weU aware, and I shall spare no pains to
rid myself of
it:
but since
my somewhat gloomy
expression tends to
make
me
appear even more reserved than I actually am, and since it is not within our power to alter a disagreeable appearance which is due to nature's arrangement of our features, I fear that though I may correct the internal
failing will
I make, the displeasing external marks of this remain with me, do what I may. I am witty,^ and I do not blush to say so; why put up any pretence in the matter? Endless shilly-shallyings and apologetics before stating one's
causes of the impression
advantages seem to
me
to
smack
of vanity hidden beneath a
modesty:
it is
a very skilful means of persuading others to think even
show of more
highly of oneself than one allegedly wishes them to do. For myself I have no desire that I should be thought finer than I say I am, nor better tempered than I paint myself as being, nor wittier and cleverer than my
own
description of myself. So, once again, I have wit,i but

I
it
is
tainted
have a useful memory and can think without confusion, I am nevertheless so preoccupied with my own chagrins that I often, in fact, put my meaning across rather
with melancholy: for though
can express myself
well,
badly.
One
it
of the pleasures I value
most highly
is
well-bred conversation; I like
moral questions. Nevertheless I am quite able to appreciate flippancy as well; and if I do not often myself make remarks intended to raise a laugh, it is not at all that I do not enjoy a well-turned witticism, and I find those amusing interchanges, at which certain relaxed and quick minds are so adept, highly entertaining. I write well in prose, and also in verse; and if I were to attach more importance to the glory that comes from such accomplishments I believe
to deal largely with
to be serious,
and
that I could, with a
little
effort,
achieve quite a considerable reputation
as a writer. I like reading,
my
favourite books being those which help to
form the mind and fortify the soul. Above all, I derive an extreme satisfaction from reading aloud, with a clever companion; for when so doing one will be constantly reflecting upon the written word; and the reflexions
^
More
literally "I
have a good mind."
C.B.
Self-Portrait
273
most agreeable
I
thus
made
constitute the
useful.
sort of conversation in the world,
and the most
When my
freely.
opinion
I
is
asked
or in prose; but
too harsh in
I
am
inclined to express
I
Another mistake
my
criticism.
good judge of works in verse views on them somewhat too make is my tendency to be overfastidious and It does not distress me when others argue, and
a fairly
am
my
wiU even on occasion join
in quite voluntarily;
but
usually advance
my
own
as to
opinions with undue heat; and
against me, I will
when the wrong cause is being upheld sometimes become so passionate an advocate of reason
grow wellnigh unreasonable myself.
My sentiments
to
are virtuous, my intentions good, and so great is my desire be a perfect gentleman and honourable man-of-the-world that my friends
greater pleasure than by frankly pointing out to me when Those persons who know me fairly well, and who have been good enough on occasion to advise me in this fashion, will admit that I have always listened to them with the utmost gratification and with all the humility of mind that can be desired. All my passions are rather gentle and well under my control: I have hardly ever been observed in a temper, and I have never hated anyone.
can cause
I
me no
am
at fault.
This does not

if I
mean
that
am
incapable of exacting vengeance, particularly
have been offended in a matter that touches my honour and which I therefore cannot ignore. On the contrary, I am sure that my sense of duty towards myself will, at such times, so well replace the emotion of hatred that in my search for vengeance I will display even greater energy than_
other men.
I
am
it
not troubled by ambition. There are few things which frighten me,
I
and would wish not to hand there are no lengths to which I will not go in order to alleviate the afflictions of others; and I really believe that in such cases one should do everything, even to the extent of showing a great deal of compassion for them in their misfortunes; but I also beUeve that one should be satisfied with the display and avoid, most carefully, the true feeling. For pity is an emotion which is quite useless in a well-formed soul; it serves only to enfeeble the heart; and it should be left to the common people who, since they never behave according to the dictates of reason, must be stirred by emotion. I am fond of my friends, so fond of them that I should not hesitate for a moment if it were a question of sacrificing my interests for theirs; I am tolerant, will patiently endure their bad moods, and will readily make excuses for them. But I am not particularly demonstrative as a friend, nor am I much put out if I do not see them for considerable periods of time. I am by nature poorly endowed with curiosity concerning most of those matters which others find of such absorbing interest. I am very discreet and have less difficulty than most in keeping a secret that has been entrusted to me. I am extremely reliable: I never break my word, no matter what the
death least of any.
at
all.
am
scarcely susceptible to pity,
feel
On
the other
276
results of
FRANgOIS, DUG DE LA ROCHEFOUCAULD

I
keeping it may be, and that is a rule of conduct to which adhered with the utmost rigour throughout my whole life. With women I am meticulously polite, and I do not believe that
have have
ever behaved, in the presence of a

distress.
woman,
I
in such a
way
as to cause her
When
they have good minds,
prefer their conversation to that
which is never to be met with in from that, it seems to me that they can express themselves more neatly and can give a pleasanter turn to what they say. As for love, in the past I have gone in for it a little; at present I do so no longer, although I am still young. I have given up flirting, and it is a
of
men;
their talk has a sort of gentleness
ours, and, apart
source of astonishment to
indulge in
I
it.
me
that so
many
honest people should
still
have the greatest respect for fine passions, which are the mark of great souls; and although the disquiet they engender is in some ways antagonistic to strict wisdom, they are so easily linked to the most austere virtues that I do not believe they can be justly condemned. Knowing well all the delicacy and strength of great passion,
fall in love,
it
will
be in
this
much doubt whether
this
I do believe that should I myself ever manner; but being made the way I am, I very knowledge of mine will ever be transferred from
the head to the heart.

One Confession Out of Many
Jean Jacques Rousseau (1712-1778), Protean man of letters, tagged as father of the romantic movement, has left in his Confessions one of the most famous of autobiographies. The book can hardly shock our generation by
its frankness on the author's sex life; indeed, it can hardly seem frank to us on such matters. But the moralist can still be shocked by Rousseau's selfrighteousness, the conservative can still be sure that Rousseau's defiance of convention is unsound anarchism, his individualism ruinous to the individual. I give below his justification of his relations with Therese le Vasseur, with whom he lived for years, and who bore him children. The "Mamma" to whom Rousseau refers was Madame de Warens, an older woman of higher social status who had taken him in after he ran away from his Genevan home, and had been rather more than a mother to him. If you can summon detachment enough, you will find this an illuminating episode in the human comedy.
HAVE ALWAYS CONSIDERED THE DAY WHICH UNITED ME TO
MY THERESE
which determined my moral being. I needed an attachment, since that which should have sufficed me had been so cruelly broken. The thirst for happiness is never quenched in man's heart. Mamma was growing old and degraded. It was clear to me that she could never again be happy in this world. Thus, the only thing left for me was to seek for a happiness which should be my own, since I had for ever lost all hope of sharing hers. I drifted for some time from one idea, from one plan, to another. My voyage to Venice would have plunged me into public affairs, if the man with whom I was to be connected had been possessed of common sense. I am easUy discouraged, especially in difficult and long-winded undertakings. My ill-success in this disgusted me with all others; and since, in accordance with my old maxim, I looked upon distant objects as decoys for fools, I determined to live henceforth without any fixed plan, as I no longer saw
as that
anything in
life
which might have tempted
me
to exert myself.
Library,
From
Jean Jacques Rousseau, Confessions
(New York: The Modern
n.d.), pp. 426-435.
277
278
It
was just at that time that we became acquainted. The gentle character of this good girl appeared to me so well suited to my own, that I united myself to her by means of an attachment which neither time nor wrongs have been able to lessen, and everything which ought to have broken it has only increased it. The strength of this attachment will be seen in the sequel, when I lay bare the wounds and pangs with which she has rent my heart during the height of my misery, without a word of complaint to anyone ever escaping me, until the moment when I am writing these lines. When it becomes known that, after having done all and braved everything, to avoid being separated from her, after having lived with her for twenty-five years, in spite of destiny and mankind, I finally married her in my old age, without any expectation or soUcitation on her part, without any engagement or promise on my own, it will be believed that a mad love, which turned my head from the first day, gradually led me on to the last extravagance; and it will be the more readily believed, when the special and weighty reasons, which should have prevented me from ever doing such a thing, also become known. What then will the reader think, when I declare to him, in all the sincerity which he must now recognise as part of my character, that, from the first moment when I saw her up to this day, I never felt the least spark of love for her; that I no more desired her possession than that of Madame de Warens, and that the sensual needs, which I satisfied in her person, were only for me those of sexual impulse, without
being in any
that,
way connected with

it
the individual?
He
I
will
perhaps believe
being constituted differently from other men,

did not enter into the feelings
ing love, since
was incapable of feelwhich attached me to those
women who have been most

is
dear to me. Patience, reader! the fatal
moment
approaching,
I
repeat
when you myself; I know
will
it;
be only too rudely undeceived.

it is
but
unavoidable.
The
first,
the greatest, the
most powerful, the most irrepressible of all my needs was entirely in my heart; it was the need of a companionship as intimate as was possible; it was for that purpose especially that I needed a woman rather than a man, a female rather than a male friend. This singular want was such, that the most intimate corporal union had been unable to satisfy it; I should have wanted two souls in the same body; without that, I was always conscious of a void. I thought that the moment had come, when I should feel it no longer. This young person, amiable by reason of a thousand excellent quaUties, and, at that time, even by her personal appearance, which was without a trace of unnaturalness or coquetry, would have confined my whole existence in herself, if I had been able to confine hers to me, as I had hoped. I had nothing to fear from men; I am certain that I am the only man she ever truly loved, and her passions were so cool, that she rarely felt the want of other men, even when I had ceased to be one to her in this respect. I had no family; she had one; and this family, the members of which were all of a far different character from herself, was not such that I could ever have regarded it as my own. This was the first cause of my unhappiness. What
One
Confession Out of
I
Many
do
so,
279
would
not have given to have been able to
make myself her mother's
It was useless for was impossible. She always created interests different from mine, set them in opposition to mine, and even to those of her daughter, which were already identical with them. She and her other children and grandchildren became so many leeches, and the least injury they did to Therese was that of robbing her. The poor girl, who was accustomed to give in, even to her nieces, allowed herself to be robbed and ruled without saying a word; and it pained me to see that, while I exhausted my money and good advice in vain, I could do nothing to assist her, I tried to get her away from her mother; but she always opposed it. I respected her opposition, and esteemed her the more for it; but this refusal was none the less prejudicial to her interests and my own. Devoted to her mother and the rest of her family, she belonged more to them than to me, even more than to herself. Their greed was not so ruinous to her as their advice was pernicious; in short, if, thanks to her love for me and her naturally good disposition, she was not completely their slave, she was sufficiently so to prevent, in great part, the effect of the good principles which I endeavoured to instil into her, and to cause us always to remain
child! I tried all I could to
but never succeeded.

it
me
to attempt to unite all our interests;
two, in spite of
all
my
efforts to the contrary.
Thus it came to pass that, notwithstanding a sincere and mutual attachment, upon which I had bestowed all the tenderness of my heart, the void in this heart was never completely filled. Children, who might have effected
this,
were born
to us; but this only
made
matters worse.
shuddered
at
them over to the care of this badly brought up family, to be brought up even worse. The risks of bringing up at the Foundling Hospital were far less. This reason for the resolution which I took, stronger than all those which I stated in my letter to Madame de Francueil, was, however, the only one which I did not venture to tell her. I preferred to remain not completely cleared from so grave a reproach, in order to square the family of a person whom I loved. But it may be judged, from the behaviour of her miserable brother, whether, in spite of anything
the thought of handing
that
may be
said about
it,
should have been justified in exposing

his.
full this
it
my
chil-
dren to the risk of receiving a similar education to
Being unable to enjoy to the
intimate intercourse of which I
felt
manner which, although it did not completely fill the void, caused me to feel it less. For want of a friend, who should be entirely devoted to me, I needed friends whose impulse might overcome my indolence. For this reason I cultivated and strengthened my relations with Diderot and the Abbe de Condillac, entered into fresh and still closer relations with Grimm, and, in the end, owing to the unlucky
the need, I sought to supplement
in a
Essay, the history of which
without any idea of

for ever.
it,
upon
literature,
have related, I found myself thrown back, which I thought I had abandoned
another intellectual world,
My first appearance led me by a new path into
280
the simple and lofty

economy
of which I
was unable to look upon without soon convinced me, that there but error and folly in the doctrine of our philosophers, and was nothing misery and oppression in our social arrangements. Deluded by my foolish pride, I thought that I was born to destroy all these illusions, and, believing that, in order to gain a hearing, it was necessary for my manner of life to harmonize with my principles, I adopted the singular course which I have not been permitted to continue, in which I set an example for which my pretended friends have never forgiven me, which at first made me ridiculous, and would have ended by making me respectable, if it had been possible
enthusiasm.
My
continued attention to
it
for
me
to persevere in
it.
Hitherto I had been good; from that

least, intoxicated
moment
became
virtuous, or, at
in
with virtue. This intoxication had
commenced
I
my
head,
but had passed on into
my
heart.
The
noblest pride sprang
up
therein
the ruins of uprooted vanity. I pretended nothing;
became
really
on what I
during which this state of was nothing great or beautiful, which a man's heart could contain, of which I was not capable between heaven and myself. This was the origin of my sudden eloquence, of the truly celestial fire which inflamed me and spread over my first writings, and which for forty years had not emitted the least spark, since it was not
seemed; and, for the four years at

effervescence lasted in
all its
least,
force, there
yet kindled.
was truly transformed; my friends and acquaintances no longer recognised me. I was no longer the shy, bashful rather than modest man, who did not venture to show himself or utter a word, whom a playful remark disconcerted, whom a woman's glance caused to blush. Audacious, proud, undaunted, I carried with me everywhere a confidence, which was firmer in proportion to its simplicity, and had its abode rather in my soul than in my outward demeanour. The contempt for the manners, principles, and prejudices of my age, with which my deep meditations had inspired me, rendered me insensible to the raillery of those who possessed them, and I pulverised their trifling witticisms with my maxims, as I should have crushed an insect between my fingers. What a change! AU Paris repeated the penetrating and biting sarcasms of the man who, two years before and ten years
I
afterwards, never
pression he ought to use.

all
knew how to find the thing he ought to Anyone who endeavours to find
say,
nor the ex-
the condition of
my nature will find it in this. If he desires to one of those brief moments in my life during which I ceased to be myself, and became another, he will find it again in the time of which I
others most contrary to
recall
speak; but, instead of lasting six days or six weeks,
it
lasted nearly six years,
and would, perhaps, have lasted until now, had it not been for the special circumstances which put an end to it, and restored me to Nature, above which I had attempted to elevate myself. This change began as soon as I had left Paris and the sight of the vices of the great city ceased to keep up the indignation with which it had inspired
One Confession Out

me. As soon as
lost sight of the
of
Many
I
281
I lost sight
of men, I ceased to despise them; as soon as I
wicked,
ceased to hate them.
My
heart,
little
adapted for
it
hatred, only caused
me
to deplore their wretchedness,
from which
lofty,
did
not distinguish their wickedness. This gentler, but far less
frame of
mind soon dulled
the burning enthusiasm which

it,
had so long carried
me
even without perceiving it myself, I became again shy, courteous, and timid; in a word, the same Jean Jacques as I had been before. If this revolution had merely restored me to myself, and had gone no
away, and, without anyone perceiving
would have been well; but, unfortunately, it went much further, me away rapidly to the other extreme. From that time my soul, in a state of agitation, no longer kept its centre of gravity, and its oscillations, ever renewed, always destroyed it. I must describe at some length this second revolution the terrible and fatal epoch of a destiny without example among mankind. As we were only a party of three in our retreat, leisure and soUtude naturally increased the intimacy of our intercourse. This was what occurred in the case of Therese and myself. We spent some delightful hours together under the shady trees, more delightful than any I had ever enjoyed before. She herself appeared to appreciate it more than she had hitherto done. She opened her heart to me without reserve, and told me things about her mother and her family, which she had been strong-minded enough to conceal from me for a long time. Both had received from Madame Dupin a number of presents intended for me, which the cunning old woman, to save me annoyance, had appropriated for herself and her other children, without
further, all
and carried
leaving any for Therese,
about them
whom
she strictly forbade to say anything to
me
command which
the poor girl obeyed with an obedience
which
is
almost incredible.
thing which surprised
me
still
more, was the discovery
that, besides
the secret conversations which Diderot and
Grimm had
frequently held with
both, in order to estrange
object owing to the opposition of Therese, both of
held frequent secret
them from me, but which had failed in their them had since then conferences with her mother, without her knowing
anything of what was brewing between them. She only

little
knew
that sundry
presents played a part in
it;
that there
were
little
journeys to and fro,
which they attempted to conceal from

completely ignorant. At the time
her, of the reason of
which she was
when we left Paris, Madame le Vasseur had long been in the habit of calling upon Grimm two or three times a month, and spending some time there with him in private conversation,
on which occasions even
I
his servant
judged that the motive of
all this
into
which they had attempted
to
was always sent out of the room. was no other than the same scheme make the daughter enter, by promising
d'Epinay's influence, a licence to
to procure for them, through

retail salt,
Madame
to these
or a tobacco-shop; in a word, by tempting
of gain.
They had represented
women
that, as I
them with the prospect was not in a posi-
282
tion to
do anything for them, I could not do anything for myself either, on As I saw nothing in all this but good intentions, I was not absolutely annoyed with them. Only the secrecy revolted me, especially on the part of the old woman, who, in addition, daily showed herself more toadying and wheedling in her manner towards me, which, however, did not prevent her from incessantly reproaching her daughter in private with being too fond of me and telling me everything, saying that she was a fool, and would find herself taken in the end. This woman possessed in the highest degree the art of killing two birds with one stone, of concealing from one what she received from another, and from me, what she received from all. I might have pardoned her for her avarice, but I could not forgive her dissimulation. What could she have to conceal from me from me, whose happiness she so well knew depended almost entirely upon her daughter's happiness and her own? What I had done for her daughter, I had done for myself, but what I had done for her deserved some acknowledgment on her part; she at least should have been grateful to her daughter for it, and should have loved me also out of love for her who loved me. I had rescued her from utter misery; from me she received the means of existence, to me she owed all those acquaintances whom she so well knew how to make use of. Therese had long supported her by her own exertions, and was now supporting her with bread supplied by me. She owed all to this daughter, for whom she had done nothing, while her other children, on whom she had bestowed marriage portions, and for whom she had ruined herself, far from helping to support her, devoured her substance and my own. It seemed that, under these circumstances, she should have regarded me as her only friend, as her most reliable protector, and, far from keeping me in the dark as to my own affairs, far from joining
account of them.
in a plot against
me
in
my own
I
house, should have faithfully informed
me
of everything that might concern
me when
she learned
it
sooner than
I did.
In what
light, then,
could
I to
regard her deceitful and mysterious conduct?

ingratitude
Above
all,
what was
think of the sentiments with which she endeavoured
to inspire her daughter?
What monstrous
instil it into
must have been the
mother's,
when
she sought to
the daughter!
my heart so completely from no longer look upon her without contempt. However, I never ceased to treat the mother of the partner of my life with respect, and to show her in everything almost the consideration and esteem of a son; but I must admit that I never cared to remain long in her company, and I am ill able to put restraint upon myself. This, again, is one of the brief moments of my life, in which I have been
All these considerations finally alienated
this
woman,
that I could
almost within sight of happiness, without being able to attain to
it,
although
through no fault of
should,
all three,
own. If this woman had been of good character, we have been happy to the end of our days; the last survivor
my
would alone have deserved pity. Instead of this, the reader will see the development of events, and be able to judge whether I could have altered it.
One Confession Out
of
Many
283
heart while she had lost
I had gained ground in her daughter's endeavoured to recover it; and, instead of regaining my esteem through the daughter, attempted to alienate her from me altogether. One of the means that she employed was to invoke the assistance of her family. I had begged Therese not to invite any of them to the Herle
Madame
Vasseur, seeing that

it,
mitage, and she had promised not to do so.
absence, without consulting her, and they then
nothing to
me
about
it.
When
the
first
step
They were invited in my made her promise to say was taken, the rest was easy.
When
soon
a person once keeps anything secret from one
whom
he loves, he
no scruple about concealing everything from him. As soon as I was at La Chevrette, the Hermitage was full of people, who enjoyed themselves tolerably well. A mother has always great influence over a daughter of good disposition; nevertheless, in spite of all her efforts, the old woman
feels
join the conspiracy against
could never induce Therese to enter into her views, or persuade her to me. As for herself, she made up her mind
irrevocably.
As
she saw, on the one side, her daughter and myself, at whose
live
house she could d'Holbach, and

thing,
it
and
that
was
all;
and, on the other, Diderot,
Grimm,
Madame
d'Epinay,
who promised much and gave some-
never entered her head that she could possibly be in the wrong in
farmer-general's wife and a Baron. If I had been
I
more was nourishing a serpent in my bosom; but my blind confidence, which nothing had as yet diminished, was such that it never even occurred to me, that anyone could wish to injure a person who deserved to be loved. While I saw a thousand conspiracies formed around me, all I could complain of was the tyranny of those whom I called my friends, and whose only object, as I imagined, was to force me to be happy in their own fashion rather than in my own. Although Therese refused to enter into the conspiracy with her mother, she again kept her secret. Her motive was praiseworthy; I will not under-
company with a
observant,
I
should have seen, from that moment, that
take to decide whether she did well or

gether;
ill.
Two women who
have secrets
closer to-
are fond of chattering together about them. This brought
them
and Therese, by dividing her attentions, sometimes caused me to feel that I was alone, for I could no longer regard as a society the relations between us three. Then it was that I felt keenly the mistake which I had
committed,
at the
beginning of our connection, in not having taken ad-
vantage of the
pliability
which was the
result of her affection, to
improve
her mind and furnish her with a store of knowledge, which by drawing us closer together in our retirement, would have filled up her time and my
own
tete.
agreeably, and prevented us from ever noticing the length of a tete-a-
Not
that our conversation ever flagged, or that she
of weariness during our walks; but

in
we had
not a suflacient
showed any signs number of ideas
common to make a great stock. We could no longer speak incessantly of our plans, which henceforth were limited to plans of enjoyment. The objects around us inspired me with reflections which were beyond her comprehension.
An
attachment of twelve years had no longer need of words;
we
284

other too well to be able to find anything fresh.
knew each
source
left
The only
re-
and feeble jokes. It is in solitude especially that one feels the advantage of living with someone who knows how to think. I had no need of this resource to amuse myself in her society; but she would have needed it, in order to be able always to amuse herself in mine. The worst thing was, that we were obliged to hold our interviews secretly; her mother, who had become a nuisance to me, forced me to look out for opportunities. I felt under restraint in my own house this is saying everything. The atmosphere of love ruined simple friendship. We enjoyed an ingossip, scandal,
was
timate intercourse without living in intimacy.
As soon
as I thought I observed that Therese sometimes sought excuses
to avoid the walks
which
proposed to her,
ceased to propose them, with-
out being annoyed with her for not finding as

myself. Pleasure does not depend
much
pleasure in them as
affection,
upon the
will. I
was sure of her
and that was enough for me. As long as my pleasures were hers, I enjoyed them with her; when this was not the case, I preferred her contentment to my own. Thus it happened that, half deceived in my expectation, leading a life after my own inclination, in a spot which I had chosen for myself, with a person who was dear to me, I nevertheless at length found myself almost isolated. What I still lacked prevented me from enjoying what I possessed. In the matter of happiness and enjoyment, I must have all or nothing.
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN
Moral Perfection
Benjamin Franklin (1706-1790), a contemporary of Rousseau's, seems here a good balance, if not an antidote, to the volatile Genevan. Franklin's "bold and arduous project of arriving at moral perfection," as here recounted, is a good example of one of the characteristics of autobiographies. Written usually in old age, they show the author intimately aware of time, process, growth, of that interaction between the persona and the environment, cultural as well as material, which produces a personality, itself never absolutely fixed. Franklin is amused at his youthful hope of moral perfection, which he knows he did not attain; but the young man who made that very eighteenth-century list of virtues still survives in the wise old man. I regret that I cannot, in this section on how men have estimated human capabilities and human performance, make a wider and more representative
choice of such autobiographical writings. I suspect
many
readers will
go further on their own. For them I suggest as a convenient guide the recent Design and Truth in Autobiography by Roy Pascal (Cambridge, Mass., 1960) which gives on pp. 196200 a very good representative list of
like to
autobiographies from Abelard's to Stefan Zweig's.
IT
WAS ABOUT
THIS TIME
CONCEIVED THE BOLD AND ARDUOUS PROJECT

all
of arriving at moral perfection. I wished to Hve without committing any

fault at
any time;
would conquer
lead
that either natural inclination, custom,
or
company might
and wrong,
I I
me
into.
right
did not see
As I knew, or thought I knew, what was why I might not always do the one and
I soon found I had undertaken a task of more difficulty had imagined. While my attention was taken up and care employed in guarding against one fault, I was often surprised by another. Habit took the advantage of inattention. Inclination was sometimes too strong for reason. I concluded at length that the mere speculative conviction that it was our interest to be completely virtuous was not sufficient to prevent our From Benjamin Franklin, Autobiography. Edited, with an Introduction by Herbert W. Schneider (New York: The Liberal Arts Press, 1952), pp. 80-84, 90-92.
avoid the other. But
than
285
286
slipping,
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN
and
that the contrary habits
must be broken and good ones aca steady,
quired and established before
we can have any dependence on
uniform rectitude of conduct. For this purpose I therefore contrived the following method: In the various enumerations of the moral virtues I had met with in my reading, I found the catalogue more or less numerous, as diJfferent writers
included more or fewer ideas under the same name. Temperance, for ex-
ample, was by some confined to eating and drinking, while by others
it
was
extended to
tion, or
mean
passion bodily or mental, even to our avarice and ambition. I proposed to myself, for the sake of clearness, to use rather more names with fewer ideas annexed to each than a few names with more ideas; and I included under thirteen names of virtues all that at that time occurred to me as necessary or desirable, and annexed to each a short precept which fully expressed the extent I gave to its meaning. These names of virtues with their precepts were:
1.
the moderating every other pleasure, appetite, inclina-
Temperance
Eat not to
dullness.
Drink not to elevation.

2.
Silence
yourself.
Speak not but what may benefit others or

versation.
3.
Avoid
trifling
con-
Order
Let each part of your business have
Let
its
all
your things have
their places.
time.
4.
Resolution
fail
Resolve to perform what you ought. Perform without

solve.
5.
what you
re-
Frugality
i.e.,
Make no
expense but to do good to others or yourself;

6.
waste nothing.
Industry
in
Lose no time. Be always employed

necessary actions.
something useful. Cut
off all
un-
7. Sincerity
Use no
hurtful deceit.
Think innocently and
justly; and, if
you speak,
speak accordingly.
8.
Justice
Wrong
none by doing injuries or omitting the benefits that are your duty.
Moral Perfection
9.
287
Moderation
injuries so
Avoid extremes. Forbear resenting

deserve.
much
as
you think they
10. Cleanliness
Tolerate no uncleanliness in body, clothes, or habitation.

11. Tranquillity
Be not
disturbed at
trifles
or at accidents
12. Chastity
common
or unavoidable.
Rarely use venery but for health or offspring never to dullness, weakness, or the injury of your own or another's peace or reputation.
13. Humility
Imitate Jesus and Socrates.
My
it
intention being to acquire the habitude of
all
these virtues, I judged
would be well not to distract my attention by attempting the whole at once but to fix it on one of them at a time, and when I should be master of that, then to proceed to another, and so on till I should have gone through the thirteen. And as the previous acquisition of some might faciUtate the acquisition of certain others, I arranged them with that view as they stand above. Temperance first, as it tends to procure that coolness and clearness of head, which is so necessary where constant vigilance was to be kept up, and guard maintained, against the unremitting attraction of ancient habits and the force of perpetual temptations. This being acquired and established, Silence would be more easy; and my desire being to gain knowledge at the same time that I improved in virtue, and considering that in conversation it was obtained rather by the use of the ear than of the tongue, and therefore wishing to break a habit I was getting into of prattling, punning, and joking, which only made me acceptable to trifling company, I gave Silence the second place. This and the next, Order, I expected would allow me more time for attending to my project and my studies. Resolution, once become habitual, would keep me firm in my endeavors to obtain all the subsequent virtues; Frugality and Industry, freeing me from my remaining debt and, producing affluence and independence, would make more easy the practice of Sincerity and Justice, etc.,
etc.
verses, daily examination
Conceiving then that agreeable to the advice of Pythagoras in his golden would be necessary, I contrived the foUowing
for conducting that examination.
little
method
I
made a
book
in
which
aUotted a page for each of the virtues. I
ruled each page with red ink so as to have seven columns, one for each day
288
of the week, marking each
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN
column with a letter for the day. I crossed these columns with thirteen red lines, marking the beginning of each line with the first letter of one of the virtues, on which line and in its proper column I might mark by a little black spot every fault I found upon examination to have been committed respecting that virtue upon that day. I determined to give a week's strict attention to each of the virtues successively. Thus in the first week my great guard was to avoid even the
least offense against
temperance, leaving the other virtues to their ordinary

if
chance, only marking every evening the faults of the day. Thus
first
in the
week
could keep
my
first line
marked "T."
clear of spots, I sup-
posed the habit of that virtue so much strengthened and its opposite weakened that I might venture extending my attention to include the next, and for the following week keep both lines clear of spots. Proceeding thus to the last, I could go through a course complete in thirteen weeks, and four courses in a year. And like him who, having a garden to weed, does not attempt to eradicate all the bad herbs at once, which would exceed his reach and his strength, but works on one of the beds at a time, and having accomplished the first, proceeds to a second; so I should have (I
hoped) the encouraging pleasure of seeing on my pages the progress I made in virtue by clearing successively my lines of their spots, till in the end by a number of courses, I should be happy in viewing a clean book
after a thirteen weeks' daily examination.
. . .
be remarked that, though my scheme was not wholly without was in it no mark of any of the distinguishing tenets of any particular sect. I had purposely avoided them; for being fully persuaded of the utility and excellence of my method, and that it might be serviceable to people in all religions, and intending sometime or other to publish it, I would not have anything in it that should prejudice anyone of any sect against it. I purposed writing a little comment on each virtue, in which I would have shown the advantages of possessing it and the mischiefs attending its opposite vice; I should have called my book The Art of Virtue^
It will
religion, there
it would have shown the means and manner of obtaining virtue, which would have distinguished it from the mere exhortation to be good, that does not instruct and indicate the means, but is like the apostle's man of verbal charity, who only, without showing to the naked and hungry how or where they might get clothes or victuals, exhorted them to be fed and clothed {James II: 15, 16). But it so happened that my intention of writing and publishing this comment was never fulfilled. I did, indeed, from time to time put down short hints of the sentiments, reasonings, etc., to be made use of in it, some of which I have still by me; but the necessary close attention to private business in the earlier part of life and public business since have occasioned my postponing it. For it being connected in my mind with a great and ex-
because
Nothing so
likely to
make
a man's fortune as virtue, [marg. note]
Moral Perfection
tensive project that required the
289
whole
man
to execute,
and which an unit
foreseen succession of employs prevented
my
attending to,
has hitherto
remained unfinished.
In this piece
it
was
my
design to explain and enforce this doctrine: That
vicious actions are not hurtful because they are forbidden, but forbidden
because they are hurtful, the nature of
therefore everyone's interest to be virtuous
man alone considered; that it was who wished to be happy even in
this world. And I should from this circumstance, there being always in the world a number of rich merchants, nobility, states, and princes who have need of honest instruments for the management of their affairs, and such being so rare, have endeavored to convince young persons that no qualities are so likely to make a poor man's fortune as those of probity and integrity. My list of virtues contained at first but twelve. But a Quaker friend having kindly informed me that I was generally thought proud, that my
pride
showed
itself
frequently in conversation, that I

discussing any point, but
being in the right

insolent
when
was not content with was overbearing and rather
of which he convinced
me
by mentioning several instances

if
determined endeavoring to cure myself
could of this vice or folly

giving an extensive
among
the rest,
and
added Humility to
my
fist,
meanit.
ing to the word. I cannot boast of

of this virtue, but I
much
success in acquiring the reality

to the appearance of
I
had a good deal with regard

all
made
and
it
a rule to forbear
direct contradiction to the sentiments of others
all
positive assertion of
my
own.
even forbade myself, agreeable to
the old laws of our Junto, the use of every
word
of expression in the
language that imported a fixed opinion, such as "certainly," "undoubtedly," etc.; and I adopted instead of them, "I conceive," "I apprehend," or "I
imagine" a thing to be so or
pleasure of contradicting
so, or "It so
I
appears to
me
I
at present."
When
some
another asserted something that
thought an error,
I
denied myself the
him abruptly and
of showing immediately
began by observing that in certain cases or circumstances his opinion would be right, but that in the present case there "appeared" or "seemed to me" some difference, etc. I soon found the advantage of this change in my manners: The conversations I engaged in went on more pleasantly; the modest way in which I proposed my opinions procured them a readier reception and less contradiction; I had less mortification when I was found to be in the wrong, and I more easily prevailed with others to give up their mistakes and join with me when I happened to be in the right. And this mode, which I at first put on with some violence to natural incUnation, became at length so easy and so habitual to me that perhaps for these fifty years past no one has ever heard
absurdity in his proposition; and in answering
a dogmatical expression escape me.

of integrity) I think
it
And
to this habit (after

I
my
character
principally
with
my
I
fellow citizens
when
owing that proposed new
had early so much weight
institutions, or alterations in
the old, and so
much
influence in public councils
when
became
to
member.
For
was but a bad speaker, never eloquent, subject
much
hesitation
290
in
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN
words, hardly correct in language, and yet
I
ried
my choice of my point.
generally car-
In reality there is perhaps no one of our natural passions so hard to subdue as pride; disguise it, struggle with it, beat it down, strifle it, mortify it as much as one pleases, it is still alive and will every now and then peep out and show itself. You will see it perhaps often in this history. For even
if
could conceive that I had completely overcome
it,
should probably
be proud of
my
humUity.
PART
IV
THE TWENTIETH
CENTURY: SEA OF TROUBLES
IV
The Twentieth Century: Sea of Troubles
FOR THIS SECTION I CAN MAKE NO CLAIM EVEN OF REPRESENTATIVE RANGE. Most of it might be classified as "Whither Mankind?" writing, a very characteristic form of our time. All I have tried to do here is to illustrate part of the range of our worries. The subdivisions in particular have given me
and perhaps I should merely have arranged these pieces alphaby author. Yet I suppose I have been guided by a desire to illustrate above all the characteristic, indeed in perfectly defensible senses the new, forms these old questions take in our time. I begin with the "alienation of the intellectuals," already almost an old chestnut, but unavoidable here. I then go very briefly to the linguistic or analytical philosophy, the
difficulty,
betically
characteristic formal philosophical fashion of our time, a fashion never, of
now on the wane though cerhard to discern a successor. I have omitted existentialism, not because it is of negligible importance, but because it has so little new in it. I then follow with a subdivision on historicism, very characteristic indeed
course, universally followed, and possibly
it is
tainly
of our time, and of major importance in the history of ideas,

history of philosophy. There
if
not in the
was long preparation for our modem use of history, in a sense from St. Augustine, but specifically from the eighteenth century, through the nineteenth-century evolutionists and the Marxists right on to Spengler, the first widely read contemporary historicist. Indeed, if you feel you have to give up a Christian or other supernaturalist cosmology, and yet must make sense out of the universe, you can today hardly avoid falling back on history; physics will no longer do. The Christian view of life and the universe is of course far from dead; and there are other and varied modern views the holders of which are not, as are most of our Enlightened, unwilhng to call themselves religious. A subsection "Back to Religion" could hardly be omitted from a work of this sort. Once more, I have by no means, in my five choices, "covered the
field."
to
life,
Next, the characteristic Enlightened effort to find in science a guide a wholly satisfactory substitute for "religion," still continues in our
I
day, and
for one can discern
no
real retreat
on a
large scale
from what
293
I like to call this religion of Enlighteimient.
294
I
THE TWENTIETH CENTURY: SEA OF TROUBLES

have taken from a
lively article
by Dennis Gabor
This
in the English
is
mag-
azine Encounter the
title
for
my
very fashionable indeed today

future.
final subdivision.
a kind of writing
the attempt to describe a very distant
Now
there are certainly elements in these
works of something very
old in our culture, the Utopian or apocalyptical work, the prophecy. invention of the future, like most shattering
The
human
inventions, took place
long ago in prehistoric times. But our contemporary prophets are neither
Cassandras nor Jeremiahs, certainly not Thomas Mores or Campanellas.
They
are
contemporary
historicists
attempting under the influence of

time-scale, attempting to under-
natural science to extrapolate
on a long
stand the universe, attempting to answer the great questions of man's fate.
book should be evident from a moment's it do anybody to know what's going to happen in the "next million years"? what is likely to happen in the next few years may be worth modest efforts at extrapolation, but can anybody now do anything in the twenty-first century? These quesclearly they belong in this
How
consideration of the vulgar questions: what good will
tions are unanswerable in a
frame of reference of common-sense,
practical,
everyday concerns. But

affect
we
ask them, for the answers help give us the kind
of satisfaction any beUeved-in cosmology can give.
And
the answers
our present, however
little
they have to do with any real future.
do Most
of the current answers, especially those I here cite, help reconcile us with
the failure of the twentieth century to achieve
your Condorcet) thought to be
just
what the eighteenth (read around the comer.
A
The Alienation of the
Intellectuals
C. p.
SNOW
Scientists
The Literati and the
C. P.
Snow (1905-
) is
a most successful English novelist
who began
as
a physicist, and has kept close links with the world of scientists. The thesis he sets out so firmly below is put with characteristic self-assurance. Whether or not the gap between scientists and humanists is as great as he
contends
livered at
allusions,
it is,
are greatly worried over
no doubt that intellectuals today on both sides The passage below is from the Rede lecture, dethe University of Cambridge in 1959. It has a good many topical but should give the American reader no serious difficulty.
there can be
it.
is
BELIEVE THE INTELLECTUAL LIFE OF THE WHOLE OF WESTERN SOCIETY increasingly being split into two polar groups. When I say the intellectual
I
life,
mean
to include also a large part of

last
our practical
life,
because
should be the
tinguished. I
person to suggest the two can at the deepest level be disshall come back to the practical life a little later. Two polar
groups: at one pole

as though there
we have
the literary intellectuals,
who
incidentally
while no one was looking took to referring to themselves as "intellectuals"
were no others.
me
the
in mild puzzlement,
word
'intellectual' is
I remember G. H. Hardy once remarking to some time in the 1930's: "Have you noticed how used nowadays? There seems to be a new definition
which certainly doesn't include Rutherford or Eddington or Dirac or Adrian or me. It does seem rather odd, don't y' know."^ Literary intellectuals at one pole at the other scientists, and as the most representative, the physical scientists. Between the two a gulf of mutual incomprehension sometimes (particularly among the young) hostility and dislike, but most of all lack of understanding. They have a curious distorted
From C. P. Snow, The Two Cultures and the Scientific Revolution (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1959), pp. 4-19. ^ This lecture was delivered to a Cambridge audience, and so I used some points of reference which I did not need to explain. G. H. Hardy, 1877-1947, was one of the most distinguished pure mathematicians of his time, and a picturesque figure in Cambridge both as a young don and on his return in 1931 to the Sadleirian Chair
of Mathematics.
296
The
Literati
and
the Scientists
attitudes are so different that,
297
even on the level
S. Eliot,
image of each other. Their

of emotion, they can't find
much common
ground. Non-scientists tend to
think of scientists as brash and boastful.

just for these illustrations
They hear Mr. T,
who
we can
if
take as an archetypal figure, saying about
his attempts to revive verse-drama, that
that he
would
feel content
we can hope for very little, but he and his co-workers could prepare the ground
is
for a
new Kyd
or a
new Greene. That
the tone, restricted and constrained,

it is
with which literary intellectuals are at home:

culture.
figure,
the subdued voice of their
Then they hear a much louder

is
voice, that of another archetypal
Rutherford, trumpeting: "This
the heroic age of science! This
is
the Elizabethan age!"
Many
of us heard that, and a
good many other
state-
ments beside which that was mild; and we weren't left in any doubt whom Rutherford was casting for the role of Shakespeare. What is hard for the
literary intellectuals to understand, imaginatively or intellectually, is that
he was absolutely
right.
way the world ends, not with a bang but a whimper" incidentally, one of the least likely scientific prophecies ever made compare that with Rutherford's famous repartee, "Lucky fellow, Rutherford, always on the crest of the wave." "Well, I made the wave,
And compare
"this is the
didn't I?"
The
non-scientists
have a rooted impression that the
scientists are shal-
lowly optimistic, unaware of man's condition.

sight, peculiarly
On
men,
the other hand, the
scientists believe that the literary intellectuals are totally lacking in fore-
unconcerned with
their brother
in a
deep sense
anti-
intellectual,
anxious to restrict both art and thought to the existential

talent for invective could
moment. And so on. Anyone with a mUd

it
produce
plenty of this kind of subterranean back-chat.
On
each side there
is
which
is
not entirely baseless.
It is all destructive.
Much
of
it
rests
some of on mis-
interpretations which are dangerous. I should like to deal with two of the most profound of these now, one on each side. First, about the scientists' optimism. This is an accusation which has been made so often that it has become a platitude. It has been made by some of the acutest non-scientific minds of the day. But it depends upon a confusion between the individual experience and the social experience, between the individual condition of man and his social condition. Most of the scientists I have known well have felt just as deeply as the nonscientists I have known well that the individual condition of each of us is tragic. Each of us is alone: sometimes we escape from solitariness, through love or affection or perhaps creative moments, but those triumphs
of
is
life
are pools of light
we make
for ourselves while the edge of the road
black: each of us dies alone.
faith in revealed religion.
tion
is
not so strong. I
scientists I have known have had Perhaps with them the sense of the tragic condidon't know. With most people of deep feeling, how-
Some
ever high-spirited and happy they are, sometimes most with those
happiest and most high-spirited,
it
who
are
seems to be
right in the fibres, part of
298
the weight of
c.p.
SNOW
life. That is as true of the scientists I have known best as of anyone at all. But nearly all of them and this is where the colour of hope genuinely comes in would see no reason why, just because the individual condition is tragic, so must the social condition be. Each of us is solitary: each of us dies alone: all right, that's a fate against which we can't struggle but there is plenty in our condition which is not fate, and against which we are less than human unless we do struggle. Most of our fellow human beings, for instance, are underfed and die before their time. In the crudest terms, that is the social condition. There is a moral trap which comes through the insight into man's loneliness: it tempts one to sit back, complacent in one's unique tragedy, and let the others go without a meal.
trap less than others. They are something can be done: and inclined to think that it can be done, until it's proved otherwise. That is their real optimism, and it's an optimism that the rest of us badly need.
As
a group, the scientists
fall into that

if
inclined to be impatient to see
In reverse, the same
spirit,
tough and good and determined to
fight
it
out at the side of their brother men, has

culture's social attitudes as contemptible.
are,
made
That
scientists
regard the other
is
too facile:
some
of
them
but they are a temporary phase and not to be taken as representative.
I remember being cross-examined by a scientist of distinction. "Why do most writers take on social opinions which would have been thought distinctly uncivilised and demode at the time of the Plantagenets? Wasn't that true of most of the famous twentieth-century writers? Yeats, Pound, Wyndham Lewis, nine out of ten of those who have dominated literary sensibiUty
in our time
weren't they not only

all
politically silly,
but politically wicked?
Didn't the influence of
they represent bring Auschwitz that
much
nearer?"
the correct answer was not was no use saying that Yeats, according to friends whose judgment I trust, was a man of singular magnanimity of character, as well as a great poet. It was no use denying the facts, which are broadly true. The honest answer was that there is, in fact, a connection, which literary persons were culpably slow to see, between some kinds of early twentieth-century art and the most imbecile expressions of anti-social feeling.^ That was one reason, among many, why some of us turned our backs on the art and tried to hack out a new or different way for ourselves.^ But though many of those writers dominated literary sensibility for a generation, that is no longer so, or at least to nothing like the same extent.
I
thought at the time, and
I still think, that
to defend the indefensible. It
2 1 said a little more about this connection in The Times Literary Supplement, "Challenge to the Intellect," 15 August 1958. I hope some day to carry the analysis
further.
literary
it
would be more accurate to say that, for literary reasons, we felt the prevailing modes were useless to us. We were, however, reinforced in that feeling when occurred to us that those prevailing modes went hand in hand with social attitudes
^ It
either wicked, or absurd, or both.
The
Literati
and
the Scientists
299
science. It hasn't the
Literature changes
corrective,
more slowly than

its
same automatic
ill-considered
and so
misguided periods are longer. But
it is
of scientists to judge writers
on the evidence
of the period 1914-50.
Those are two of the misunderstandings between the two cultures. I the two cultures, that is I began to talk about them I have had some criticism. Most of my scientific acquaintances think that there is something in it, and so do most of the practising artists I know. But I have been argued with by non-scientists of strong down-to-earth interests. Their view is that it is an over-simplification, and that if one is going to talk in these terms there ought to be at least three cultures. They argue that, though they are not scientists themselves, they would share a good deal of perhaps, since they the scientific feeling. They would have as little use
should say, since
knew more about
even less use for the recent literary culture as the scientists themselves. J. H. Plumb, Alan Bullock and some of my American sociological friends have said that they vigorously refuse to be corralled in a cultural box with people they wouldn't be seen dead with, or to be regarded as helping to produce a climate which would not permit of
it,
social hope.
I respect those
arguments. The number 2

is
is
a very dangerous number:
a dangerous process. Attempts to divide anything into two ought to be regarded with much suspicion. I have thought a long time about going in for further refinements: but in the end I have decided against. I was searching for something a little more than a dashing
that
is
why
the dialectic
metaphor, a good deal
less
than a cultural map: and for those purposes the
two cultures
is
about
it's
right,
and
subtilising
any more would bring more

is
dis-
advantages than
worth.
a culture, not only in an inis,
At one
tellectual
pole, the scientific culture really
but also in an anthropological sense. That
its
members need
each other;
not,
and of course often do
not, always completely understand
biologists
more
often than not will have a pretty hazy idea of contemporary
physics; but there are
common
attitudes,
common
standards and patterns
of behaviour,
common
It cuts
approaches and assumptions. This goes surprisingly

across other mental patterns, such as those of re-
wide and deep.

Statistically, I
ligion or politics or class.
suppose
slightiy
more
scientists are in religious
believers,
compared with the
rest of the intellectual
world
though
terms unthere
are plenty
who
are reUgious, and that seems to be increasingly so
among
in
the young. Statistically also, slightly

politics
though
also
more
scientists are
on the Left
open
again, plenty always have called themselves conservatives,
and that
try
seems to be more
in the U.S.
common among
the young.
Compared with
coun-
the rest of the intellectual world, considerably
more
scientists in this
and probably
come from poor
families.'*
Yet, over a whole
range of thought and behaviour, none of that matters very much. In their
*An
its
own
analysis of the schools story. The distribution
is
from which Fellows of the Royal Society come tells markedly different from that of, for example, mem-
bers of the Foreign Service or Queen's Counsel.
300
working, and in
c.p.
SNOW
much
of their emotional
life,
their attitudes are closer to
other scientists than to non-scientists
who
in religion or politics or class
have the same labels as themselves. If I were to risk a piece of shorthand, I should say that naturally they had the future in their bones. They may or may not like it, but they have it. That was as true of the conservatives J. J. Thomson and Lindemann as of the radicals Einstein or Blackett: as true of the Christian A. H. Compton as of the materialist Bemal: of the aristocrats Broglie or Russell as of the proletarian Faraday: of those born rich, Uke Thomas Merton or Victor Rothschild, as of Rutherford, who was the son of an odd-job handyman. Without thinking about it, they respond alike. That is what a culture means.
At
the other pole, the spread of attitudes
is
wider. It
is
obvious that
between the two, as one moves through
intellectual society
cists to the literary intellectuals, there are all
from the physikinds of tones of feehng on
the way. But I believe the pole of total incomprehension of science radiates
its
influence
on
all
the rest. That total incomprehension gives,

realise, living in
it,
much more
pervasively than
we
an unscientific flavour to the whole

is
"traditional" culture,
and that
unscientific flavour
often,
much more
one
than
pole
we
admit, on the point of turning anti-scientific.
The
feelings of
become
the anti-feelings of the other. If the scientists have the future
in their bones, then the traditional culture responds
by wishing the future

little
did not exist.^ ern world.
It is
the traditional culture, to an extent remarkably

scientific one,
diminished by the emergence of the

This polarisation
society. It
is
which manages the west-
is
sheer loss to us
practical
all.
To
us as people, and to our
at the
same time
false to
and
intellectual
and creative
loss,
and
loss.
I repeat that
it is
imagine that those three considerations are

I
clearly separable.
But for a moment
want
to concentrate
on the
intellectual
The degree
of incomprehension
on both
fifty
sides
is
the kind of joke which

scientists in the
has gone sour. There are about

scientists.
thousand working
country and about eighty thousand professional engineers or applied
had
During the war and in the years since, my colleagues and I have somewhere between thirty to forty thousand of these that is, about 25 per cent. The number is large enough to give us a fair sample, though of the men we talked to most would still be under forty. We were able to find out a certain amount of what they read and thought about. I confess that even I, who am fond of them and respect them, was
to interview
bit shaken.
We
hadn't quite expected that the links with the traditional
culture should be so tenuous, nothing
more than a formal touch
of the
cap.
As one would
expect,
some of
the very best scientists
had and have
plenty of energy and interest to spare, and
we came
across several
who
^Compare George Orwell's 1984, which future should not exist, with J. D. Bernal's
is
the strongest possible wish that the
World Without War.
The
Literati
and
the Scientists
that literary people talk about.
301
had read everything
But that's very rare. Most of the rest, when one tried to probe for what books they had read, would modestly confess, "Well, I've tried a bit of Dickens," rather as though Dickens were an extraordinarily esoteric, tangled and dubiously rewarding writer, something like Rainer Maria Rilke. In fact that is exactly how they do regard him: we thought that discovery, that Dickens had been transformed into the type-specimen of literary incomprehensibility, was one of the oddest results of the whole exercise. But of course, in reading him, in reading almost any writer whom we
should value, they are just touching their caps to the traditional culture.
They have
their
own
culture, intensive, rigorous,
and constantly
in action.
This culture contains a great deal of argument, usually
much more
rigorous,
and almost always at a higher conceptual level, than literary persons' arguments even though the scientists do cheerfully use words in senses which literary persons don't recognise, the senses are exact ones, and when they
talk
about "subjective," "objective", "philosophy" or "progressive",^ they

it
know what they mean, even though

Remember,
isn't
what one
is
accustomed
is
to expect.
in
these are very intelligent men. Their culture
many
ways an exacting and admirable one. It doesn't contain much art, with the exception, an important exception, of music. Verbal exchange, insistent argument. Long-playing records. Colour-photography. The ear, to some extent the eye. Books, very httle, though perhaps not many would go so far as one hero, who perhaps I should admit was further down the scientific who, when asked what ladder than the people I've been talking about books he read, replied firmly and confidently: "Books? I prefer to use my books as tools." It was very hard not to let the mind wander what sort of tool would a book make? Perhaps a hammer? A primitive digging in-
strument?
Of books, though, very

ing at
all. It isn't
little.
And
of the
books which
to
most
literary
persons are bread and butter, novels, history, poetry, plays, almost noththat they're not interested in the psychological or moral
life,
or social
life.
In the social
they certainly are,
more than most
of us.
In the moral, they are by and large the soundest group of intellectuals
have; there
is
we
and
a moral component right in the grain of science
itself,
almost
all scientists
form
it
their
own judgments
interest as
of the moral
us,
life.
In the
psychological they have as

I
much
most of
though occasionally
is
fancy they
come
to
rather late. It isn't that they lack the mterests. It

literature of the traditional culture doesn't
much more
to
result, their
that the
whole
seem
them relevant
to those interests.
They
is
are, of course,
less
dead wrong. As a
imaginative understanding
than
it
could be. They are
self -impoverished,
^
subjects." Objective
Subjective, in contemporary technological jargon, means "divided according to means "directed towards an object." Philosophy means "general
intellectual approach or attitude" (for example, a scientist's "philosophy of guided weapons" might lead him to propose certain kinds of "objective research"). A "progressive" job means one with possibilities of promotion.
302
c.p.
SNOW
But what about the other side? They are impoverished too perhaps more seriously, because they are vainer about it. They still like to pretend
that the traditional culture
is
the whole of "culture", as though the natural
order didn't
exist.
no
interest either
As though the exploration of the natural order was of in its own value or its consequences. As though the
world was not,
in
its
scientific edifice of the physical
intellectual depth,
complexity and articulation, the most beautiful and wonderful collective
work
of the
mind
all.
of
man. Yet most
non-scientists
have no conception of
Even if they want to have it, they can't. It is rather as though, over an immense range of intellectual experience, a whole group was tone-deaf. Except that this tone-deafness doesn't come by nature, but
that edifice at
by
training, or rather the
absence of training.
scientists
As with
the tone-deaf, they don't
pitying chuckle at the
news of
know what they miss. They give a who have never read a major work
as ignorant specialists.
is
of English literature.
They dismiss them
Yet
their
own
ignorance and their

I
own
specialisation
just as startling.
A good many
with
times
have been present
at gatherings of
people who, by the standards of
the traditional culture, are thought highly educated and
who have
considerable gusto been expressing their incredulity at the illiteracy of

scientists. Once or twice I have been provoked and have asked the company how many of them could describe the Second Law of Thermodynamics. The response was cold: it was also negative. Yet I was asking something which is about the scientific equivalent of: Have you read a work of Shakespeare's? such as, I now believe that if I had asked an even simpler question What do you mean by mass, or acceleration, which is the scientific equivnot more than one in ten of the highly alent of saying. Can you read? would have felt that I was speaking the same language. So the educated great edifice of modern physics goes up, and the majority of the cleverest people in the western world have about as much insight into it as their neolithic ancestors would have had. Just one more of those questions, that my non-scientific friends regard as being in the worst of taste. Cambridge is a university where scientists and non-scientists meet every night at dinner.'^ About two years ago, one of the most astonishing experiments in the whole history of science was brought that was admirable for quite different off. I don't mean the sputnik reasons, as a feat of organisation and a triumphant use of existing knowledge. No, I mean the experiment at Columbia by Yang and Lee. It is an experiment of the greatest beauty and originality, but the result is so startling that one forgets how beautiful the experiment is. It makes us think again about some of the fundamentals of the physical world. Intuition, com-
mon
^
sense
they
all
are neatly stood
on
their heads.
The
result is usually
known
as the contradiction of parity. If there

college
were any serious communicain
Almost
High Tables contain Fellows
both
scientific
and non-
scientific subjects.
The
tion
Literati
and
the Scientists
303
between the two cultures, this experiment would have been talked about at every High Table in Cambridge. Was it? I wasn't here: but I should like to ask the question.
be no place where the cultures meet. I am not this is a pity. It is much worse than that. Soon I shall come to some practical consequences. But at the heart of thought and creation we are letting some of our best chances go by default. The clashing point of two subjects, two disciplines, two cultures of two galaxies, so far as that goes ought to produce creative chances. In the history of mental activity that has been where some of the breakthroughs came. The chances are there now. But they are there, as it were, in a vacuum, because those in the two cultures can't talk to each other. It is bizarre how very little of twentieth-century science has been assimilated
There seems then
to
going to waste time saying that
and then one used to find poets conscienand getting them wrong there was a time when "refraction" kept cropping up in verse in a mystifying fashion, and when "polarised light" was used as though writers were under the illusion that it was a specially admirable kind of light. Of course, that isn't the way that science could be any good to art. It has got to be assimilated along with, and as part and parcel of, the whole of our mental experience, and used as naturally as the rest. I said earlier that this cultural divide is not just an English phenomenon: it exists all over the western world. But it probably seems at its sharpest in England, for two reasons. One is our fanatical belief in educational specialisation, which is much more deeply ingrained in us than in any countinto twentieth-century art.
tiously using scientific expressions,
Now
try in the world, west or east.
The other
is
our tendency to
let
our social
forms
crystallise.
This tendency appears to get stronger, not weaker, the

is
more we
cation. It
all
iron out economic inequalities: and this
specially true in edu-
means
that once anything like a cultural divide gets established,
the social forces operate to
make
it
not less
rigid,
but more
so.
The two
Hatfield,
cultures were already dangerously separate sixty years ago; but
a prime minister like Lord Salisbury could have his
own
laboratory at
and Arthur Balfour had a somewhat more than amateur interest in natural science. John Anderson did some research in organic chemistry in Wiirzburg before passing first into the Civil Service, and incidentally took a spread of subjects which is now impossible.^ None of that degree of
interchange at the top of the Establishment
is likely,
or indeed thinkable,
now.^
took the examination in 1905. however, true to say that the compact nature of the managerial layers of English society the fact that "everyone knows everyone else" means that scientists and non-scientists do in fact know each other as people more easily than in most countries. It is also true that a good many leading politicians and administrators keep up lively intellectual and artistic interests to a much greater extent, so far as I can judge, than is the case in the U.S. These are both among our assets.
He
^ It is,
CRANE BRINTON
On
the Discrimination
of
Anti'Intellectualisms
There is always some awkwardness in including a piece of one's own in an anthology edited by one's self. But so many intellectuals use so carelessly and defensively the term "anti-intellectualism" that I hope I may be pardoned for printing here the English original of an essay translated into Spanish and published under the title "Para la discriminacion del antiintellectualismo" in Imago Mundi (Buenos Aires), No. 6, a quarterly published under the editorship of Jose Luis Romero.
FOR THE HISTORIAN OF MODERN WESTERN

tury
is
IDEAS,
THE EIGHTEENTH CENEn-
the last for which he has a good generally accepted term: the
lightenment.
The
historian knows,
of course, that the thinkers of the
Enlightenment were by no means agreed among themselves; he knows that their two magic words, Nature and Reason, are most complex clusters of ideas, which vary with the nationality, personality, and place in time of
thinkers
who
use them; and he knows that not even in France were the
philosophes of the Enlightenment unopposed by those

earlier,
who
appealed to
indeed to medieval, systems of thought. Nevertheless, when compared with the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, the prevailing systems
of thought of the eighteenth century can be fairly easily sorted out and
labeled.
Their eyes as usual firmly fastened on their

torians refer to the years
own
country, French his-
from 1789
to the present as "contemporary."
is, however, useful for us all. It may be that the confusion and even chaos of nineteenth- and twentieth-century thought as it appears to
The word
us
is
simply a result of our immersion in

will find for
it.
It
may be
him
that the historian of
2100
our time labels that
satisfy
as well as "Medieval,"
"Renaissance" or "Enlightenment" satisfy us. We can already see that one major strand in contemporary thought is the emphasis on growth, on devel304
On
it
305
opment, and hence on history, of the group as well as the individuals; and
is
a commonplace that Darwin stands for the nineteenth century as a
much as Newton does for the eighteenth. Yet "The Age seems a flat, dull and most incomplete phrase to tie together the complex clusters of ideas of our time. Nature as History was even more Protean than Nature as Reason. One very strong strand in Western thought since the Enhghtenment is the subject of this essay. The strand needs the work of the historian of ideas; it needs to be isolated in analysis only, for in reality it is inseparably interwoven with many others and to be given, if possible, a generally acceptable name. The present writer, taking his lead from Graham Wallas, who used the word in his Human Nature in Politics, first published in 1908, has used for this strand the term "anti-intellectualism." But he is
neat summation,
of Historicism"
increasingly aware that the strand itself

eral separable strands or ropes,
is
in fact a cable,
composed of
sevis
and
that the
term "anti-intellectualism"
one that arouses opposition in many minds and leads to confusion. In short, the phenomenon, the reality, the thing for there is something behind
the confusion of our terminology
needs
the kind of elementary systematic
attention the biologist calls taxonomy.
The
thing, the cable at
its
thickest,
is
quite simply revolt against the
belief of the eighteenth-century
Enlightenment in Reason, and especially that form of belief in Reason most neatly shown in Condorcet. Men, the
belief revolted against runs, using their
minds with a magnificent comall
bination of mathematics and
common
sense, are
capable of thinking the
same way, and

all really
will shortly think their
way
into Utopia;
human
beings are
potential Descartes, with a happy,
and perhaps saving, touch of
Benjamin Franklin.
It is surely no accident that terms like "anti-intellectualism" or "anti-rationalism" have arisen to describe this revolt, for it was and is a revolt. This is not to say that there is nothing positive in the
modem
clusters of ideas that

It is to
have been put against the simple

all
faith of a
Condorcet.
say that in
these clusters of ideas the notion that
Condorcet and his like misunderstood men and the universe, and misled men, is very strong. And no doubt the prefix "anti" holds its strength in part because, in spite of all the misery and suffering that has gone on in the West since Condorcet himself came to so un-Utopian an end, the belief that men are capable of thinking their way into Utopia is still so strong, especially among English-speaking peoples. But it holds its strength in part also because it is hard to get a positive term to describe what thinkers since the eighteenth century have put in place of Reason to hold their
universe together. Feeling, self-interest,
tion,
all
will,
the dialectical process, evolu-
Blut und Boden,

then,
le
genie
latin,
the id, Angst, and

for,
been summoned as masters

If,
of,
or substitutes
many more, have poor human reason.

we
we
tentatively continue to use the
term "anti-intellectualism" to
apply to
shall
still
all
these revolts against the rationalism of the Enlightenment,
have a grave problem of semantics on our hands. At the very
306
least,
CRANE BRINTON
have to follow the lead of a master to whom all historians of ideas owe a great deal, Arthur O. Lovejoy. Working over one historic phase of what we have above called "anti-intellectualism" Professor Lovejoy concluded that even the accepted name for that phase, "romanticism," was in fact a most complex compound or cluster of ideas. He therefore had
shall
we
recourse to the plural, as in the well-known essay
"On
the Discrimination
and he could write in the same collection a paper on "The Chinese Origin of a
Romanticism." There
ism."
is
of Romanticisms," reprinted in his Essays in the History of Ideas;
then certainly more than one "anti-intellectual-
There still remains a residual problem, that of describing and naming each anti-intellectualism. Those of us concerned chiefly with ideas about man's fate, with ideas of thinkers the French call politiques et moralistes, must envy the biological taxonomist; but not even in irony can we work
on a Linnean system, and

Democratia occidentalis
Lenin or have but two resources: discriminate among the varieties we seek to separate by applying different adjectives to the old noun; or frankly invent new nouns of our own, or
refer to
orientalis var.
Democratia
var. Jefferson.
We
really
give a quite
new
sense to the old one. Carlton Hayes in his studies of nafirst
method, distinguishing "liberal" nationalism, and "derivations," Sorokin with his "sensate" and "ideational" used the second method. Perhaps one can generalize and say that historians, with their literary past,
tionalism has used the
"integral" nationaUsm
and
others. Pareto with his "residues"
tend to prefer the accepted language, and that the sociologists, with their
aspirations toward the status of real scientists, tend to prefer the neologisms.
But
this is
who
uses old words in his
an imperfect generalization, which leaves Mr. Arnold Toynbee, own private senses, in between the historian and
the sociologist
which,
after
all, is
perhaps where he belongs.

this residual
We
shall in this
paper try to dodge
by a device borrowed from mathematics, and
distinguish tentatively
problem for the moment by
numerical exponent three kinds of anti-intellectualism, anti-intellectualism^,

anti-intellectualism^, anti-intellectualism^. This typographically rather ugly,
or perhaps merely unusual, device has been suggested as one possible
way
of Westernizing Chinese writing. It can serve us for the occasion for lack
of a better way. It should go without saying that these three kinds or
types of anti-intellectualism can be subdivided into others, and that the
exist, as
whole process is merely one of analysis. In real life these clusters of ideas do the individual human beings who hold them, in what amounts
in
common
sense to infinite variety.
II
Anti-intellectualism^ holds the instrument of thought, even in
"Reason" indeed on
as the Enlightenment understood

this earth
it,
to be useful
some sense and good,
man's best hope. But the thinkers who can be brought
On

first,
307
the reasoning
together under this rubric are generally agreed that
process
itself
is
much more
devious and complicated one than most

it
eighteenth-century thinkers seemed to hold

significant that in
to be. In this connection

is
it is
influence
among
our day, when anti-intellectualism^

the paradox
is
certainly of great
purely verbal and superficial
intellec-
tuals, Diderot's reputation
should have risen so high. For of
all
the great
men
of the Enlightenment, not only in France but in the rest of the
West, Diderot's notion of
how
the
human mind
really works, his "psy-
most fashionable today outside Russia, of course, and perhaps, in spite of Marx, even there. Those who hold anti-intellectualism^ are even more generally agreed on a second point: the instrument of thought, good though it is, is in most men, and especially in the masses, of no great strength, and not capable of any rapid strengthening. The metaphor imposes itself: reason, cerebration, ratiocination, the instrument of thought, which appeared to the eighteenth-century philosophes to be a brilliant light burning in all men, hid in the masses of men only by a thick but easily removable cover of ignorance, superstition, and tradition, appears in the light of anti-intellectualism^ to be a little candle, constantly threatened with extinction, which has to be carefully shielded. But anti-intellectualism^ does indeed want very much to shield it, to help it grow in brightness; and herein, as will be shortly pointed out, antiintellectualism^ differs sharply from anti-intellectualism^. The taxonomist of ideas can divide and subdivide the thinkers he classifies under anti-intellectualism^. One obvious criterion, which can be roughly estimated for each thinker along a kind of spectrum, is the extent to which a given thinker accepts as a good thing the broad general tradition of Western abstract thought. At one extreme are philosophers like Bergson and William James, or a politique et moraliste like Georges Sorel. None of these, though sometimes they are put in a class with the real denigrators of abstract thought, considered himself as an irrationalist, as outside the tradition we date from the Greeks. They did indeed think that the philosophes of the eighteenth century were the ones outside the tradition; or rather, that these philosophes abused abstract thought, in part by oversimplifying it, but even more by considering it a fixed system which produced absolute and perfect results. James condemned "the viciously privative employment of abstract characters and class names." Whitehead wrote that "thought is abstract and the intolerant use of abstractions is the major vice of the intellect." Richard Humphrey, who quotes both these men in the second chapter of his admirable study of Georges Sorel, points
chology" in short,
is
most
like that
out that according to this kind of anti-intellectualism^,
"if a
man
is
to
obtain any meaning from the physical world about him he must rationalize,
he must make abstractions, but it is in the intolerant use of abstractions that the danger lies." Anti-intellectualism^ at this extreme, then, is above all against intellectualism of the kind neatly exemplified in Robespierre's
"perissent les colonies plutot qu'un principe."" It
is
not against intellectual-
308
ism which
is
CRANE BRINTON
respectful of the facts of the physical
is
and the moral world.
At
the other extreme in this respect

if
a thinker like Nietzsche,
who
often
he really belonged in the category of anti-intellectualism^, who often seems to tell us that the Uebermensch wiU have far better things to do than thinking. But in much of the Genealogy of Morals and Beyond Good and Evil it seems possible to call him a devotee of anti-intellectualism^. Here he is attacking, not the use of the instrument of thought, but what he regards as its abuse, its mis-appraisal. Pareto, too, though in his
writes as
characteristic desire to epater le bourgeois he
sometimes writes as
flesh, is
if
he
agreed with
Thomas Hardy
that thought
is
a disease of the
a very
good example of
thought
is
anti-intellectualism^.
a very feeble candle indeed
though burning
method
is
Pareto held that in most
men
pretty bright in
himself; but also clearly he held that, as exemplified in the great tradition
of natural science, the "logico-experimental"

the better understanding of
the only tool for
human
behavior.
Freud, however, is one of the clearest, and perhaps the most important, exemplar of anti-intellectualism^. In spite of the trials and unhappiness of his later years, in spite, perhaps, of a certain attraction he always felt for the dark world of the death-wish, Freud remained true to the scientific tradition in which he was trained. He believed that men shall know the truth, and the truth shall make them free. Only for Freud the truth was not a series of neat formulas, easily discoverable and communicable, withheld from the masses only by the accumulated bad environment kings,
nobles, priests, philosophers and rich
men had somehow managed
to foist
upon them. Truth was very hard indeed
for the individual to get at; the

institutions,
human
condition
itself,
birth
and infancy, not mere laws and
conspired to hide the truth from him, to
make him
live at best in
a world
of makeshift and adjustments, at worst in a world of neurotic maladjust-
ments or sheer
insanity.
But the long, patient
process of psychoanalysis could, for
light
on these dark
is
places, free
him
for
and disastrously expensive him who could afford it, let in the a better life here on earth. Psycho-
analysis indeed
a form of rationalism, though Condorcet
suspects
Kant himself
and
one
it
^would hardly have been able to recognize

it is
as
such. Like other forms of anti-inteUectualism^,
a chastened, perhaps
even a disillusioned, rationalism, but nonetheless it is clearly a kind of rationalism. The psychoanalyst does not want the human world restricted
to the free play of libido or id.
Some
of the
more ardent and
less subtle followers of
contemporary
anti-
intellectualism^
have brought to
their belief in
a possible newly freed
reason so
raries,
much
of the spirit of the philosophes of the Enlightenment that
To put it another way, these contempothough they have learned from modern psychology and sociology that men are not quite what Condillac and Condorcet thought them, though
they seem to be repeating them. they
know
there are psychological as well as institutional barriers to the
attainment of complete understanding and agreement
among human
beings.
On
still
309
is
believe they have found at last the real key to Utopia. This key
semantics.
A good example
St.
of this attitude
is
the
American
publicist Stuart
Chase. Mr. Chase had embraced

belated version of
many good
causes, including the
now
almost forgotten one of technocracy, which was an American engineer's
Simonism. But none had worked. Then in middle men did not agree about the meaning of "democracy" or "justice" or "rights" as they did agree about the meaning of "right-angle triangle." In his Tyranny of Words he went so far as to suggest that when tempted to use these doubtful and disputed words we substitute "blah-blah" or some other nonsense word to remind us of our erring ways. Once humanity is thoroughly trained in semantics the not-so-new version of Right Reason all will at last be well. In fairness to Mr. Chase it should be noted that he did not consistently maintain his position; he
age Mr. Chase discovered that
has continued to write books
full
of nice ambiguous words.
Ill
Anti-intellectualism^ does
want a human world
restricted to the free
play of instinct, libido, drives, Blut and Boden, at any rate something that
commonly
to
does not have to do with the cerebrum. Anti-intellectualism^ not only regards the instrument of thought as a feeble candle; it wants
blow the candle out. Some of its devotees, who are usually rather exseem to regard the instrument of thought as, at least in many individuals, dangerously strong. For such devotees, it is a false light, the sooner extinguished the better, no matter how hard the task. Since unfortunately language and grammar are inevitably deeply stamped by the instrument of thought, the anti-intellectualist^ is forced to use some kind of reasoning to attack reasoning. But so too is the religious mystic,
cited people,
whom
the
anti-intellectualist^
is
joins
at
certain
points,
certainly
in
his
feeUng that language
not enough.
Examples of
tinctured with
anti-intellecutalism^ will occur readily to
anyone familiar
is
with contemporary politiques et moralistes. Historical romanticism

it,
deeply
series
and the historian of ideas can summon up a whole

it:
of characteristic romantic aphorisms that exhibit
Gefuehl
ist alles,
One
its
impulse from a vernal wood, Thought

Italian,
German, and Spanish
is
a disease of the flesh. Fascism
is
full
of anti-intellectualism^.
One
of
worth standing as a neat summary, is the remark attributed to the falangist General Millan Astray during the trouble over Unamuno at Salamanca: "Abajo la intelligencia y viva la muerte!" "Down with intelligence and hurrah for death!" That is stark enough, if not exactly
clearest examples,
crystal-clear.
all
Like anti-intellectualism^, anti-intellectualism- is not a simple category, of one piece. Within it can be comprehended a considerable range of
attitudes
toward what
is
right
and good on
this earth for
men. At the
far
extreme are the wild men, the Dadaistes, the
racists
who want men
to think
310
with their blood
CRANE BRINTON
or
their genes
the
modern
phallic worshipers,
the anarchists, the primitivists,
many
of the existentialists.
often very close indeed to anti-intellectualism^ are the
some of At the other, more moderate:

in the tradi-
Mussolini himself, so far as he was a thinker: the often rather bewildered

followers of Nietzsche, such as
tion of Burke,
Ludwig Klages; conservatives
who have
never recovered from the French Revolution,
which they blame on men's thinking; and some of the less excited existentialists. Many not fairly placed under the rubric of anti-intellectualism^ have their moments of impatience, doubt, desire, or boredom, and throw off a phrase or two in denigration of the instrument of thought. The simplicities and dogmatism of the less gifted philosophes Helvetius for instance continue so to frighten the Western intellectual classes that most of us feel obliged to give evidence from time to time that we, too, have our depths. But the real anti-intellectualists^ are numerous enough in the contemporary world, and their classification presents a serious problem to
the taxonomist of ideas.
One
of their
special group, quite clearly to
anti-intellectualism^, should
be placed among the adherents of be mentioned at this point, for to one not
to
reason so
own circle they seem much that they have
have limited the role and importance of
turned over most of
human
life
to the realm
of non-reason, to have given great aid and comfort to the anti-intellectualists^,
to be, therefore, pragmatically classifiable as contributing in this
world to the vogue of anti-intellectualism^. These are the logical positivists, or analysts, who following leads from P. W. Bridgman and some of the semanticists have decided that reason has a very restricted field indeed,
must always be tested by an "operation," and that therefore trawhich reason has commonly been used, metaphysics, ethics, poKtical philosophy, theology, and in general most of what concerns human beings on this earth must be turned over to something else in the
that
it
ditional fields in
human
consciousness or unconsciousness or subconsciousness.
The
logical
analysts appear to have painted themselves into a corner of the room,
where
they claim to be comfortable but where they look to the rest of us most
cramped. They simply disavow interest in all not in their narrow corner, a disavowal which is an invitation to anti-intellectualism^ to take possession
of most of
human
living space.
IV
With anti-intellectuahsm^ we come to an increasingly common usage of is on a quite different level of apphcation from those just analyzed. Certainly in the United States, and to a certain extent in other parts of Western society, "anti-intellectuahsm" has come to mean being
the term which
against, being in opposition to, the conventionally or "liberally" educated
The term has therefore come to have not primarily a philosophical meaning, as have anti-intellectualism^ and anti-intellectualism^, but primarily a sociological meaning. Indeed, during the recent investigations by the
classes.
On
late
311
the liberal professions, publicists attacking
Senator McCarthy, one of whose chief targets was the universities and McCarthy almost always accused
anti-intellectualism.
him of
McCarthy,
like
most born manipulators of men,
probably had a low opinion of their intelligence, but he would appear to have had little interest in philosophical problems, and is hardly to be classified
under anti-intellectualism^ or anti-intellectualism^. There is certainly a connection between anti-intellectualism- and antiintellectualism^. Most forms of fascist or Rightist totalitarianism throw over the whole inheritance of the Enlightenment and deny to ordinary men the free exercise of what "reason" they have. Anti-intellectualism^ may go an extreme case, for he someeither way politically. With Graham Wallas
what repented of his earlier anti-intellectualism it may be on the side of democracy; but most anti-intellectualists^ are so doubtful about the common man's intelligence that they make rather poor democrats. But at bottom, as we have insisted, anti-intellectualism^ and anti-intellectualism^ are concerned with psychological and indeed epistemological matters; antiintellectualism^ is concerned with social and poUtical matters, is, in short, a cluster of ideas not indeed unrelated to the two previously analyzed
clusters,
but applied to quite different
human
concerns.
Anti-intellectualism^, then, expresses the opposition, even the hostility,
certain groups in contemporary societies feel toward the group, or groups,
members
of which write, preach, teach,

arts.
with the fine
do research, or concern themselves These are the groups which slang in the United States has
successively singled out with the derogatory terms of "highbrow," "long-
hair" and "egg-head"
which
last significantly
translation of the Nazi "Eierkopf,"
enough seems to be a literal which was also a derogatory term used

is
against the liberal opposition. Anti-intellectualism^
very obviously no
new thing. know that
If
we had had nothing
left
but the dialogues of Plato,
we should
was class feeUng in Athens between the many and the educated few, between the "lowbrows" and the "highbrows." Still, the contemporary forms of this very old form of class struggle are in part new, in part exacerbated by the very great gap between the pure scientist and the research scholar on one hand and the man in the street on the other. Moreover, its forms vary from country to country. It is by no means the same thing in France, where in spite of widespread admiration for the arts and learning it most certainly exists, and in the United States, where there has been since the first emigration from "finished" Europe a very great ambivalence of feeling toward the arts and learning. Americans admired and wanted the distinction cultural achievements in these fields clearly brought with them, and in all fairness it must be said that many immigrants had and retained a genuine love and respect for the traditions of Western literate culture; on the other hand, this culture was associated with decadent Europe, was something to be repudiated by free men who were going to start anew. North Americans, in spite of their great ignorance of what goes on to the south of them, are pretty sure that South America, too, has its own forms of this old class struggle. One wishes that it were easier to penethere
312
trate the so-called Iron Curtain, for
it
CRANE BRINTON
seems
likely that the Marxists
have
not exactly exorcised this class struggle.
In
this essay
we
are not directly concerned with the further develop-
ment and
analysis of the content of anti-intellectualism^.
The
subject
is
of
major importance and worth the careful attention of trained minds, which like the mind of the good physician, will not be shocked into blind indignation by the fact that the conditions to be studied exist. Most contemporary writing touching the subject, such as Julien Benda's weU-known Trahison
des Clercs, really does start out with the assumption, surely not at
fied
all justi-
by the facts of life, that the clercs, the intellectuals, though responsible leaders, and active ones, ought not to evoke any kind of class struggle.*
It is sufficient for our purposes here, however, to note that the general term "anti-intellectualism," already beclouded by the differences we have above analyzed as anti-intellectualism^ and anti-inteUectualism^, is further obscured by this relatively new and quite different application we have
labeled anti-intellectualism^.
can be done, to find some terminology to at least, of these meanings of anti-intellectuahsm. Unlike Professor Lovejoy's "romanticism," which though it has been a caU to battle now among critics and the Uterary generally for over
It
would seem
desirable,
if it
differentiate clearly
among some,
a century, has never really got

especially with the
down
to the masses, "anti-intellectualism,"
development of the cluster of ideas we have gathered under the exponent^, has indeed got down among the many, where it joins a whole host of other fighting words. Moreover, there are signs that even among the small group directly interested, the old struggle over "romantic" and "classic" is really dying out. Irving Babbitt, Pierre Lasserre, the Baron Seillere, doughty warriors in the battle, now seem to have been fighting over "old, unhappy, far-off things." We may then talk of "romanticisms," and differentiate one romanticism from another. But we cannot afford the
same luxury with anti-inteUectuaHsm. For the vogue of the meaning of anti-intellectualism^ has made many very intelligent people wholly unable to grant to the word the meaning of
anti-intellectualism^. The present writer, who has long been using the meaning anti-intellectuaUsm^, has recently had occasion to refer to Freud as an anti-intellectual in the company of two psychoanalysts, one of them nurtured in the holy city of Vienna itself. Both these disciples of Freud displayed at once a great degree of anger, and denied that Freud was in any sense an anti-intellectual. For both, of course, the term aroused lively
connotations of anti-intellectualism^, probably overlaid with rather vaguer connotations of anti-intellectualism^. For both,
it
was
as
though Freud had
been "classed with a

* See
Hitler, or worse.
Both
failed almost entirely to under-
Dennis Gabor's remarks on Trahison des Clercs, page 517.
On
in
313
stand a careful explanation of the sense in which the term had been used
our conversation.
In the West generally, certainly
among the educated classes, and in been said and done since the Enlightenment to discredit abstract thinking, the word "intelligence" and all its derivatives have overtones of praise; they are eulogistic terms. Therefore the term fln?/-intellectual inevitably becomes a dyslogistic term, which is unfortunate if one is trying to use it as a eulogistic term, or as a neutral term. It would be highly desirable if at least for anti-intellectualism^ some other term could gain
spite of all that has
general acceptance in the West.
Yet
it
is
extremely
difficult to
breast the current or popular usage in
language.
catches on
logism,
if
It is
not merely that

the
we do not understand how

also that the
among
many;
it is
a neologism would-be inventor of a neo-
he has any feeling for language, can hardly bring himself to do

is
too great violence to something that
part of him.
The
present writer
became convinced some
ago that the French Jacobins and the Russian Bolsheviks behaved in many ways as certain groups of Christians had behaved. Others, such as Bertrand Russell, had most certainly noted
thirty years
the
phenomenon
also.
Yet
gions" means to offend
and
to write of Jacobinism to impair
and Bolshevism as "relicommunication with many for
whom
the term religion has to include specific belief in a theistic god, or
at the very least in a supernatural force. Jacobins
and Bolshevists both
repudiated the idea of the supernatural, and that of a personal, theistic god.
Yet there seemed to be available to describe their behavior no good word; religion it had to be. "Creed" was a mere evasion, "organized belief" weak and vague, and a complete neologism, such as "revolutionary teleology," barbarous and foolish. "Religion" then it had to be, qualified indeed as "lay
religion" or "surrogate religion."
It
might indeed be desirable to
call anti-intellectualism^
by a
slightly,
but
significantly, different term, anti-rationalism.
This might indeed be
made
"rela-
positive in the
tivistic"
form of "chastened rationalism" or even, perhaps,
or "realistic rationalism." Anti-intellectualism^ of our scheme
could then become irrationalism, though doubtless not with the consent of
the irrationalists. Anti-intellectualism
would then be
left
with no more than
the meaning of our anti-intellectualism^, which in fact has already hap-
pened for most North Americans. But these are no doubt a semanticist's dreams. The portentous term will continue for some time at least to be bandied about in all sorts of senses, until we are tempted to agree with the simpliste Stuart Chase that "blah-blah" might just as well be substituted for it. The important thing, however, is to try to keep its referents straight in our minds. If Graham Wallas, William James, Freud, Nietzsche, Bergson, Tristan Tzara, Kafka, Alfred Rosenberg, Hitler, Stalin, and the late Senator McCarthy all belong in the same boat, it must be a pretty big boat, with several water-tight, or better, air-tight, compartments.
HAROLD ROSENBERG
In part to introduce to readers
who have not discovered it an anthology which will give them a thorough introduction to the many phases of this problem of the alienated intellectual, I cite from George B. de Huszar,
Intellectuals:
The
Controversial Portrait, a portion of Harold Rosenof the New (1959) adapted for Mr. de Huszar' "America's Post-Radical Critics."
berg's
The Tradition
the
title
book under
AMONG THE GRAND METAPHYSICAL THEMES OF

persistent
THIS PERIOD, THE

loss
MOST
in-
and popular has been that of "alienation," the

of the post-War imagination
by the
dividual of personal identity through the operation of social processes.
The tone
was
set
by Orwell's 1984; since the

Jr.,
appearance of that work, the victim of "the dehumanized collective that

so haunts our thoughts" (as William H. Whyte,
described
it
in
The
testi-
Organization
Man)
has passed from the realm of fiction into the
mony
of the sociologist and cultural anthropologist. Riesman's The Lonely Crowd, with its "other-directed" phantoms of automobile showrooms and PTA meetings, left no doubt among Americans that the familiar feeling of being someone else, or "nothing," was not a mere aftereffect of seeing the wrong movie. With Whyte's The Organization Man, Spectorsky's The Exurbanites, Mills' White Collar, Packard's Hidden Persuaders, filling in details of personnel, locale and genesis, the Creature Who Lost Himself emerged as a statistical probabiUty from the file cards of the social analyst. Since then, he has regularly inhabited the
unhappy
hunting grounds of beatnik poets, anti-conformist preachers, anti-modern

crisis-philosophers
In contrast to
this figure of the
name
the
Orgman
pulverized ego
whom we
may
nick-
stands the four-square dynamic individualist of the
From George
111.;
B. de Huszar,
The
Intellectuals:
Controversial Portrait (Glencoe,
Adapted by Rosenberg from The Tradition of the New (1959), pp. 280-285; printed by the permission of the author and the pubUsher, Horizon Press, Inc. Title supplied by Rosenberg.
The Free
Press, 1960), pp. 524-527.
314

19th century, Riesman's Inner Directed
It is
315
Person.
Man, Whyte's Protestant Ethic by the measure of this fleshy hero that our contemporaries are seen as mere components of the faceless hordes of "the new middle
class."
The
effect of its
backward-looking
all
is
to
denude the new
social criticism
of radical implications, or, for that matter, of any poUtical or moral conse-
quence.
Its
charge that
is
it
present-day social behavior tends towards
robotization
a more extreme accusation than that of the Leftism that

implicates everyone, without distinction as to social class,
preceded
it;
function or idea, in a single, deepening process of dehumanization. Yet
by
this
very extremism
it
generates an atmosphere of relaxed acquiescence
to a developing totaUtarianism
from which there can be no escape. Redriving,
gretting the disappearance of the old,

type.
uncomfortable
capitalist
The Organization
Man
places the fate of the
new
corporation execu-
tive, as
well as of the beneficiaries of "fringe benefits" farther
down
the
line, in
a shadow world where "the
and powerful, and the

difficult
demands for more he has come to like

to resist these
his surrender are constant
the organization the

to recognize
more
does he find
is
it
demands, or even
them."
But there
intelligentsia,
more
to the conception of the
older social type.
As
the representative of the
Orgman than regret for an new post-War employed
the post-radical critic suffers also a nostalgia for himself
an independent individual. For his former abstract sympathy with a nominal working class, the intellectual of this decade has substituted an examination in the mirror of his own social double as insider of The Organization and The Community. It is what he sees there that has caused him to project a morbid image of society compared with which the old
as
"class struggle"
a war with
rifles
America seems not only and cannons.
naif but as relatively healthy as
For in regard to the misery of alienation, who is a greater victim of what Whyte calls the split "between the individual as he is and the role he is called upon to play" than the member of the intellectual caste newly enlisted en masse in carrying out society's functions? As writer, artist, social scientist, he is one with his talents and his education for creative work; in playing his part in the service of the organization he must eliminate any thought of functioning for himself. Through his personal inventiveness he has in the past fifteen years achieved prosperity and social prestige; yet he is the most dependent of wage earners and the most anxiously conscious of his dependence The Exurbanites chronicles this dependence and anxiety to the last installment doUar. (Applying itself to the narrower spectrum of the commercialized intellectuals, The Exurbanites is the most realistic of the works here mentioned.) The inteUectual employee also accepts a more total identification with
his role than other workers, in that the editorial director, the designer,
the copywriter,
etc.,
seUs himself
more completely
in terms of
both psychic
energy expended and number of hours worked. With him the division
316
between work and
If the free artist
HAROLD ROSENBERG
leisure, discipline
and freedom, has
truly
been erased.
life
or the founder of a great enterprise builds his
exclu-
sively out of the substance of his

life
work, today's intellectual unbuilds his
in order to live his job.^
self -loss in contemporary cannot escape a conviction of guUt for his part in depriving others of their individuality. He has consented to
Besides being the prime victim and exemplar of
society, the "organized" professional
use his capacities as a tool and to approve in practice the proposition
recorded by Whyte that "all the great ideas have already been discovered." His skills tend to relate to human management, e.g., writing, image -making, program-forming; even if his specialty is in engineering or the physical
sciences, the results of his
is
work
directly
augment the force by which
society
controlled.
The
intellectual
cannot function as Organization
Man
with-
out also functioning as Organization-Man moulder; as
human
object he
must also affect others as objects; as manipulated act as manipulator. Thus he cannot help but feel himself to be a betrayer of humanity as of his own mind. Helpless to change anything, he is yet the chief culprit of the alienation drama, the driven "scientist," who directs the undermining of the
simple
human
tests,
individual,
whether as motivational expert, inventor of

is
personnel
in
or as preacher of despairing acceptance.

the innermost problem of
life
Self-displacement through one's acts
America as of ways been among

cestor. Tolstoy's
that in
all civilized
countries.
The
Social
Type has
al-
us, of course, despite
Riesman's and Whyte's

his
efforts to
distinguish today's
other-directed
man from
nineteenth-century an-
Ivan Ilych,
who
decorated his house entirely according
have it turn out exactly like all other good an example of automatic "radared" tasteexchanging (Riesman) as can be found in Fairfield County. Tolstoy explicitly insisted that Ilych was a socially made up man, an "object" guided by public opinion, an example of "dead" living. In the United States, nineteenth-century literature, whether in the popular stage-comedies of manners or in the symbolism of the romantics, centers on society's human abstractions. The hero of Poe's "The Man Who Was Made Up" owed to industry all his movable parts. A contemporary of this invention was the ubiquitous Salesman-Preacher, whom
to his
original ideas only to
class, is as
own
houses of his
Melville, writing in a less unctuous age than ours,
named The Confidence
Man. Like Whyte, Spectorsky, and Packard,

sional supplier of things, ideas
man
as social artifice,
saw in this profesand feelings the outstanding specimen of while from the silent recesses of the office files, he
Melville
^The rule quoted by Whyte for corporation executives generally, "You promote the guy who takes his problem home with him," becomes for the intellectual, "You hire the guy who takes his problem to bed with him." His job has a creative side in which his preconscious must also collaborate. Take this into account in computing his average salary, and the difference between the wage-earner of the suburb and of the company town becomes largely a matter of overtime pay. At $2.50 an hour, the totally employed intellectual would earn more than $20,000 a year.
317
deity, Bartleby.
drew forth the white-collared tomb
And
he too,
set
up
an apposite type; "inner-directed" like Riesman's, morally absolutist like Whyte's "Protestant;" the brooding subjective Indian fighter, paranoiac
Ahab of What
induced
the prairies.
is
new
in
America
is
not the socially reflexive person but the
presence of a self-conscious intellectual caste whose disillusionment has

its
members
to volunteer to serve as tools.
The predicament
in
which these individuals find themselves is what casts a bar sinister over their image of America. The fear-augury that the Orgman will become everyone in a quiet, unopposable totalitarianism is not a conclusion based on social analysis but a projection of the fate the intellectuals have chosen for themselves. The American landscape has by no means been re-made by the "Social Ethic" compression machine into an electrified Eden set out on porcelain grass. Except in the new suburbs, the physical condition of America's cities, towns and villages is of itself proof enough that decay, shiftlessness, egotism and other forms of popular expressionism are more than holding their own against other-direction. Granted that the growth of the supercorporation and the absorption and standardization of small business has changed the independent operator into an agent, at the same time that mechanization has been turning the workman into a technician; granted that Whyte's notation that "the collectivization so visible in the corporation has affected almost every field of work" is indisputable;
in whatever
art
still
and that today Orgmen reproduce themselves like fruit flies is organized, be it a political party or a museum of advanced given this groundwork for the conquest of America by this "type", the contention that the nation is, or even might be, subordinated to
is
such a master
at least as ludicrous as
it
is
alarming.
concentration of control and the standardization of
The increasing work present well-
known
The
alternatives
the last voice in the issue of being or not being himself
which we need not discuss here; but for the individual, is still his own.
sacred groves has,
inhabitant of the
however, surrendered
all
choices.
Having accepted self-alienation in trade for social place, the postradical intellectual can see nothing ahead but other-direction and a corporately styled personality. For him the Orgworld has closed for good.
Within these
of self-pity.
limits the deploring of
"conformity"
is
simply an expression
The
strategy (Whyte's) of fighting the organization through
secret resistance behind the outershaped
mask
is,
by the measure of the

That such
is,
ancient intellectual tradition of denunciation or self-exile, only a dreary

professional's ruse for holding
on
is
to the best of both worlds.
a proposal should seem relevant
another proof that the
Orgman
with
necessary additions and disguise, none else than the

ing about himself. Certainly the deft
new
intellectual talk-
management of
the corporate
Look
which solves things for Whyte would be of no help to the farmer or to the workingman, nor would the boss need to make use of it. The "what to do about it" part of the studies of Whyte and Riesman are clearly sermons
318
HAROLD ROSENBERG
critics of the
for their milieu rather than challenges to history in the
The
ground
new America
are disheartened
name of mankind. by a revolution won
which can go no farther than the ending of the underAmerican intellectual mass through economic recognition of the services it has to offer. With his own success achieved, the only issue the intellectual can see as remaining for society is "personality". Somehow, this seems unattainable in "the dehumanized collective" in the building of which he is taking a leading part. The result is depression and it is by the power of the depression it generates, in contrast to the smugness of the old-time boosting, that the present sociology is a force against a more radical and realistic understanding of American life.
their revolution,
life
of the
B
Meaning
Is All:
The
Linguistic Philosophy
ERNEST GELLNER
The Mystical
Philistines
It is
perhaps unfair, but
it
is
also usually illuminating, to let a hostile
thinker explain a given philosophical system. I
am
letting
Ernest Gellner
(1925Gellner's
),
himself a former scholar of Balliol, outline
some important
aspects of what he calls the typically Oxford "linguistic philosophy."
notably in Oxford
of tempest such books can rouse, does violate some of the canons of scholarly debate as they have developed in England. But this latest Oxford school has perhaps had things too much its own vây, and has developed
book has roused the kind

itself.
It clearly
a tender-minded sensitivity to critical attack, a sensitivity the truly toughminded ought to be able to overcome. There seems to be no accepted term accepted even in the sense of "Utilitarianism" for the Benthamites, or "Pragmatism" for the school of
William James and John
Dewey
we
is
can use for a very strong current
a phase of what I have called above (pp. 304-313) "anti-intellectualism.^" The central conception of this current of thinking may be put oversimply as the deliberate limitation of philosophical reasoning to problems that hold promise of being resolved by methods
of twentieth-century thought which
and with
results
we
associate by experience with the achievements of a
natural science, say physics, and with mathematical logic. I refer to one
of the enthusiastic popularizers of this philosophy, Mr. Stuart Chase, and to his best-selling Tyranny of Words. Mr. Chase suggests that whenever we
are tempted to use great big terms not subject to the close definition and
empirical (or operational) checking the natural scientist employs
like
terms
more
we
"rights of
man," "democracy,"
"free enterprise"
and many, many
discipline ourselves
by substituting "blah-blah"; thus, perhaps,
saying
and the pursuit of blah-blah" (or is "life," after all, so vague a concept that we had better use "blah-blah" for this word, or pertoo, in Jefferson's preamble to our Declaration of Independence haps we should also say, Declaration of Blah-Blah?).
"life,
blah-blah,
You can see how readily this latest rationalist current of thought can be run into the ground of ridicule. Mr. Gellner is less unfair than I have been in the last few sentences, but he is still a hostile critic. I shall let Mr.
320
The Mystical
Philistines
321
Bridgman, a very distinguished physicist who has thought hard about how he goes about thinking, speak from the margins of the school. Its central figure is probably the Viennese exile in England, Ludwig Wittgenstein, a difficult thinker indeed whom I dare not attempt to use here. I shall make further suggestions at the end of this book. Meanwhile, I can perhaps fix the school or schools in your mind most clearly if J
say that their central problem
is
the problem of meaning,
and communica-
readable school Meaning (1923). And by no means an

of the
tion of meaning,
which
is
called semantics.
One
is
of the classics
most
is I.
A. Richards and C. K. Ogden, The Meanas a final shot, here
ing of
how Bertrand
Russell
other-worldly, tender or fuzzy-minded anti-scientist

to
ends his introduction
Mr. Gellner's book.
When
I
I was a boy, I had a clock with a pendulum which could be lifted off. found that the clock went very much faster without the pendulum. If the main purpose of a clock is to go, the clock was better for losing its pendulum. True, it could no longer tell the time, but that did not matter if one could teach oneself to be indifferent to the passage of time. The linguistic philosophy, which cares only about language, and not about the world, is like the boy who preferred the clock without the pendulum because, although it no longer told the time, it went more easily than before and at a more exhilarating pace.
AN IDEOLOGY
LINGUISTIC PHILOSOPHY
in a non-pejorative to
IS AN IDEOLOGY, I USE THE TERM "IDEOLOGY" and very general sense. Linguistic Philosophy happens
is
be bad ideology, but that
not a pleonasm.
simultaneously as a set of ideas or doc-
An
trines,
ideology manifests
itself
a set of practices, and a
less institutionalised social
group.
more or less closely organised, more or The ideas form a reasonably connected
if
system, related in part by mutual entailment such that
key ideas are
understood, the others follow, and in part by weaker relationships of similarity
and mutual suggest! veness. There can be no doubt that ideologies in this sense exist "in the air," as general ways of going about things, suggesting approaches, facilitating interpretation and communication, whilst blocking alternative approaches
or interpretations.
So
far, in talking
of the term. I
now
of "ideology," I have in effect been defining my use wish to specify some important characteristics which
are, I think, often displayed
by successful
ideologies:
(1) (2)
A
A
great plausibility, a powerful click at

it
some one or more
points
which gives
a compulsiveness of a kind.
great absurdity, a violent intellectual resistance-generating of-
fensive ness at
some one or more other
points.
From
239.
Ernest Gellner, Words and Things (Boston: Beacon Press, 1959), pp. 231-
322
ERNEST GELLNER
first
The
of these
is
a kind of bait.
An
appealing outlook must some-
how
account for some striking features of our experience which otherwise remain unaccounted for, or are otherwise less well explained. The second
feature,
though
initially repellent,
is
what binds the group, what
singles
out the cluster of idea from the general realm of true ideas.
ing of an absurdity
rite
is,
The swallow-
an ideology, what a painful the act of commitment, the investment of emotional capital which ensures that one does not leave it too easily. The intellectually offensive characteristics may even be objectively valid: it is only essential that, at the beginning, and perhaps in some measure always, they should be difficult to accept. The plausibilities of Linguistic Philosophy are numerous and striking. It seems to account for the sterility of past philosophy, for how philosophy is possible despite the lack of experimentation, etc., on the part of philosophers. It appears to follow from the obvious, but nevertheless striking and often neglected, insight that there is such a thing as language, that it has rules like any other non-random activity, that words have meanings which must not be violated if one is to talk sense it explains why common sense is so often right and justifies our daily reliance on it: it unmasks pretentiousness and vacuity, and diagnoses it. It fits in with the general naturalistic, anti-doctrinaire temper of the time. Its intellectual offensiveness on the other hand resides in its claim that it denies legitimacy to certain questions, doubts, and a certain kind of ignorance, which in our hearts we know full well to be legitimate: we do not know whether others see the same colours as we do, whether other people have feelings, whether we are free to choose our aims, whether induction is legitimate, whether morality is truly binding or merely an illusion, etc. Many or all of these doubts and questions, which Linguistic
in the acceptance of
de passage
is
in joining a tribal
group
Philosophy characteristically "cures" as misunderstandings of language, are in fact genuine. Their suppression without real conviction is an acceptance of an absurdity which binds the adherent to the movement. (This
is
also
what
is
liable to
produce such anger in him when he encounters

is
a doubter of the movement.)
Of
its plausibilities,
the most important perhaps
that
it is
positivist
in the sense of allocating the exploration
and understanding of nature and

(whilst nevertheless reserving
things in general to experimental science
doubtful whether ideologies which are not positivist in some sense have much chance of success in the modern world. This is due not so much to the existence of plausible epistemological
other functions for
itself). It is
models showing that only experimental science can explore the world such models have always been available, almost since the beginning of as to the conthought, and they have not always been felt to be cogent junction of these models with the overwhelming, manifest success of natural science, contrasted with the unprogressive and woolly squabbling
in non-scientific fields
such as philosophy or theology. This makes some
The Mystical
Philistines
if it is
323
to appeal
recognition of the place of science essential to an ideology

to
man. Pure positivism, in the traditional sense, consists au fond of recommending that all thinking should emulate the ways of science, whatever they be, or pack up. This particular way out has certain disadvantages, notably that the ways of science (whatever they be) do not provide answers to some pressing questions, or fail to provide definite or
intelligible
modem
answers, or provide uncomfortable ones. This being so,
modem
ideologies must,
make
on
its
sure that
on the one hand, supplement science, and, on the other, they do not conflict with it and do not appear to trespass
domain.
Contemporary theological doctrines, for instance, tend to take care to convey by their very tone and style that they are somehow at an altogether different level from scientific or ordinary thinking: gone are the days when the existence of God, the creation of the world and so on were debated between pro-religious and pro-scientific parties on the assumption that the meaning of the issue was clear but its truth was in dispute. In its; own domain, the greater reliability of science is no longer seriously in doubt: the question is now how to delimit what its domain is and discover or establish whether other domains exist; and, if so, to indicate their features and the truths to be found in them. (Modern theologians no
longer explain strange Revelations about the ordinary world, but tend to
seek strange realms in which those Revelations will be ordinary truths.)
But what
science
is
is true of the adjustment of theology to the hegemony of doubly true of those ideologies which actually emerged in the
modem
world.
SOME COMPARISONS
it is illuminating to compare the Marxism, psychoanalysis and Existentialism. Of these, the first two claim to be parts of science, but, unlike the big bulk of science, they provide suggestive, all-embracing and immediately striking systems of concepts, implicit guidance and so forth, which fit them, if true, to be orientations for life. The last does not claun to be part of science, but abstains from trespassing on it and contains an im-
The
striking examples, with
which
linguistic tradition in philosophy, are
plicit
open
why there is room for Existentialism in a region not Marxism resembles Linguistic Philosophy in possessing a monolithic theory of error: intellectual delusion will wither away with the State when the class struggle, which is responsible for their emergence,
explanation of
to science.
There are positive afiinities in doctrine the naturalistic view of man, the Third Person view of knowledge * and in type of ideological device, notably the Two-Tier trick (see above), the custom of explaining away opposition and the associated Revelation complex. There are, of course, far more important and profound differences between the two
ceases.
* Cf.
A. Maclntyre, Universities and Left Review,
Summer
1958.
324
outlooks, and
it
ERNEST GELLNER
is
in a
way
offensive to
Marxism
to
compare the two.
about more serious matters and has an incomparably wider appeal, Linguistic Philosophy being of its essence an ivory tower pursuit, which can only make sense in an extremely limited environment.
is
Marxism
Psycho-analysis, again,
is
profoundly possessed by a Revelation comIt,
plex and the custom of explaining away disagreement in terms of the

characteristics of the objector.
too, has
its
values camouflaged under

to neutrality,
the notion of health.
It,
too,
makes a specious claim

It,
and
pliably insinuates the values of the practitioner.
too, considers itself
primarily a study of pathology, though the insights gained are generalised,
and
and
it,
too, fails to recognise with sufl&cient clarity that doctrines
and
values are presupposed by the very drawing of the line between health
disease.
As with Marxism and

is
Linguistic Philosophy, the committing

it
of the Naturalist Fallacy
inherent in
when
it
is
treated as a world-
outlook.
and divergences with Existentialism are of a different and tone of the two movements, there is even a positive similarity in their starting points: both started from the realisation that certain questions are very strange and cannot be answered in ordinary ways. There is even a resemblance
similarities
The
kind. Despite the profound divergence in the style
in the diagnosis of
why
these questions are strange: because
escapably involved in the asking and the matter questioned.
we are inTo ask a
conceptual question is, generally, not to ask something that "the world" can answer, at any rate directly, but is rather to ask something about the manner in which we handle things. To ask fundamental religious questions including sceptical queries about religion is to query the manner in which we look at the world. This is one of the key ideas of Wittgenstein's, just as it is of Kierkegaard's account of the religious quest. There is, of course, a difference: for Wittgenstein it was man the knower, the conceptualiser, the language-user who was inherently too involved in saying things to be able to say what saying things about the world amounted
to;
whereas, for Kierkegaard,
it
was
the act or the choice and could not therefore guarantee
was man the agent or the chooser who it by some
ratiocination.
But
this is a difference in the application of a similar idea.
There
is
a further interesting analogy: both sprang from a reaction to
pan-logism. Both were

in turn
bom
from a
rejection of a view that the appear-
ances of this world are a cloak thrown over an underlying structure, which
was conceived
is
as a kind of reified version of a current logical
was quite different in modern mathematical logic. A kind of visual concretisation of the former makes some sense with regard to history and society, whilst an interpretation of the latter makes sense for parts of higher mathematics. Neither lends itself to a generalised application as a model outside its home subject, so to speak if indeed either should be reified at all. But both have been so
theory. It
true that the logical theory in question
the two cases: in one case, Hegel's dialectic, in the other,
The Mystical
applied,
Philistines
325
and in both cases the reaction was a doctrine stressing involveopposed to reliance on the alleged underlying structure) and the essential-ness of idiosyncrasy (as opposed to placing stress on the alleged underlying homogeneity). In this way, Kierkegaard and Wittgenstein resemble each other both in the form of their views and in their
ment
(as
manner of reaching them. But from this point onward the two movements cease to be parallel and become almost diametrically opposed mirror-images of each other. Some later Existentialism, just because the question is so strange, makes a positive cult of the act of answering it, and places no taboo on necessarily strange talk about the nature and conditions of such engage and unbacked "answering," or rather, deciding. Linguistic Philosophy, on the other hand, either rules out the odd questions and their answers, or (and here it gets closest to Existentialism) makes a mystique of their ineff ability, or (and here it comes to differ from it and becomes most characteristic of itself) comes to claim that answers are not merely impermissible but
actually redundant.
It is
on the one
almost tempting to explain the difference in terms of temperament: side, because there can never be a validated or objective
is
answer, a great fuss

the matter
made
of this and the matter treated with the

life;
greatest of reverence as central to

is
on the
other, for the
discounted as pathological and as

its
doomed
to wither
same reason, away
when
the nature of
oddity
is
fully understood.
On
the side of Continental philosophy, a greater and greater cult of

it
paradox and obscurity, an appetite which feeds on what

end:
consumes and,
its
as with a galloping illness, hardly allows the imagination to conceive
Heidegger? On the other side, a patient diagnosis of paradox, and an equation of philosophy with the recovery of platitude, and the realisation that an unsatisfiable lament is pointless ... a trend to an era of increasing platitude, dullness and vacuity. On the fundamental
who can outdo
issue of values, the
two doctrines, disregarding idiosyncrasies of expression and the associated meta-philosophy, are identical: both, in effect, maintain the subjectivity of value as an inescapable feature of the human situation. But one side maintains that, just because it is a necessary fact, it is most deeply tragic or glorious; the other, for the very same reason, maintains that it must therefore be trivial, no cause for worry, or indeed that
it
cannot be asserted
at all.
Thus Existentialism gives odd answers, or quasi-answers of an odd kind, to odd questions: the linguistic philosopher declines to answer the question because it is odd and because the answer would be odd. Both, as it were, find man in the condemned cell, as imagined by Pascal to convey the human situation: one makes a great fuss because the situation is inescapable, the other, because
that there
is
it
is
inescapable, tries to convince himself
no
this situation,
made. (He might say: "There is no contrast to the possibility of death, so how can a contrast-less characfuss to be
326
teristic
ERNEST GELLNER
be usefully asserted,
let
is
alone be a matter for sorrow?")
On
the
one
side, a little too
much
fuss
being made, perhaps; but the nonchalance

.
.
on the other side is, indisputably, somewhat affected. The diagnoses of the oddity of the fundamental question remain
.
similar:
the involvement, the impossibility of transcendence, the cult of the irreducible idiosyncrasy of the concrete situation in which the question arises.
Both
styles of
thought
make
use of these features to account for the
fact that they deal with something not covered
by
science. In both cases,
the essential, inescapable idiosyncrasy of the object investigated accounts

for
how
science and
its
systematic and generaUsing procedure are avoided;
the involvement accounts for the difficulty of any but oblique expression;
whilst the impulse to transcendence
and
its
necessary frustration provide
the problem.
THE NARODNIKS OF NORTH OXFORD

Linguistic Philosophy differs from the other ideologies mentioned by sometimes affecting a certain modesty. It can be preached in a dramatic or messianic style, and it is very easy to interpret it as being of the utmost importance (if all past philosophies are wrong, this is no smaU matter, especially if one understands why, and how to avoid mistakes in the future); and although its protagonists are messianic in the sense of being
deeply imbued with the conviction of their is extremely modest in one important way
anything.
it
own
it
rightness, nevertheless
it
claims not to interfere with
It
not merely does not teach anyone
how
to
also claims to abstain
from teUing anyone how
to live,
make how
shoes, but
to find his
how to vote, how or where or whether which authority to obey, and even how to think or talk! Not only does it claim not to do these things, or very seldom (its prescriptions and prohibitions are only directed at other philosophers, and are meant to interfere only with philosophising, and with nothing else), it is extremely proud of this fact, and its practitioners are liable to begin their works with such emphatic disclaimers of evaluative or prescriptive intent that one feels they protest too much. Linguistic Philosophy, at long last, provided a philosophic form eminently suitable for gentlemen. Nothing is justified. It is merely explained that justification is redundant, that the need for it is pathological. The philosophy is simultaneously esoteric it is so refined and subtle in its effects that a prolonged habituation to its practices, and hence leisure, is necessary before one sees the point and yet its message is that everything remains as it is, and no technicality is required. No vulgar new revelation about the world, no guttersnipe demands for reform, no techsoul,
how
to
choose his pictures,
to worship, whether or
nical specialisms are encouraged.

It is, at
the
same
time, a kind of vindication of the extravert against
the introvert. Those
who
see the world through the haze of their thoughts
The Mystical
Philistines
327
or their feelings are shown up as
somehow
philosophically mistaken: those
who
the
concentrate on inner feelings, or on the other hand see things as
shown up as people who are under sway of a misunderstanding of language which leads them to over-rate and over- value what is in fact trivial. Those who see things bluntly and straightforwardly in effect, conventionally with no room for strange or unusual doubts, are vindicated. "Nothing is hidden."
instances of abstract characteristics, are
The arguments
mystical exercise
no new truth and change we knew anyway: it is, indeed, a mysticism of philistinism, but a mysticism none the less, for it does not argue, it initiates. It seeks devices for making fully acceptable truths which it really holds not merely beyond doubt, but beyond argument. It concentrates on bringing out why argument is unnecessary and irrelevant. Now there may be truths which deserve such reverent treatment:
quite avowedly bring
they
of Linguistic Philosophy are really a kind of inverted
nothing, they simply confirm us in our faith in what
but Linguistic Philosophy equates philosophy with

illumination of the allegedly indubitable,
this
kind of reverent
and suggests that
common
sense
or the rules of current use have such a status. In its preference for and vindication of the simple unspoilt popular
view against the reasoned subtleties of the ratiocinator, Linguistic Philosophy is a kind of Populism. The folk whose simple but sound folk-culture is being defended and preserved against corruption by specious, theoretical
philosophy
is
the folk of North Oxford, roughly.
p.
W.
BRIDGMAN
Words and Meanings
P.
W. Bridgman (1882-
),
Mollis Professor of Mathematics

is
and Natlong
ural History, emeritus, at Harvard,
a practicing physicist
who has
been interested in some of the logical, indeed philosophical, implications of his work. His Logic of Modern Physics (1927) has long been famous. He has recently (1959) gone over the ground again in a book he calls
The Way Things Are, from which I have chosen a passage which touches on the meaning of integrity. Bridgman approaches this problem not with
naivete, but rather with a freshness, almost
have had had he undergone a typical

scientific, training.
classical humanist, or
an innocence, he could never even social-
THE INADEQUACIES OF OUR TRADITIONAL INTELLECTUAL TOOLS ARE MOST manifest when we deal with the opposition between ourselves and other
people as distinguished from the opposition between ourselves and inani-
mate
things.
It is
easy to see
how
things got this way.
The
infant in his attempt to
adjust to his environment has to accept the methods employed

ture.
by
his cul-
Not only
is
the infant not developed enough intellectually to be able

to a critical examination, but he has time only to
to subject these
methods
It is
acquire as quickly as he can

of the
some method which
will
meet the
necessities
moment.
thus almost inevitable that he adopt the methods
which the people around him use, that is, the methods acceptable to his society and culture. Now the methods which have survived in any society are subject to one control which dominates so overwhelmingly that it casts into eclipse practically all other considerations. This is the control based on
the requirement of survival of the society. If the
this
method does not
satisfy
requirement the society that uses

it
it
gets automatically eliminated,
and
with
vival
aU
its
component
individuals.
Now
is
the brute requirement for surit
comes about that anyis by no means coextensive with the needs of the individuals of which the society is composed, and in fact is often directly opposed to them. It would indeed be a From P. W. Bridgman, The Way Things Are (Cambridge: Harvard University
is
not a discriminating requirement, so that
thing goes, so long only as this one need
met. This need
Press,
1959), pp. 316-325.
328
Words and Meanings

miracle
if
329
there were not an opposition here. Survival of the race requires
up to the time when he has reproduced himby procreation, but the individual wants to survive longer and furthermore has many other needs. It is true that some of these needs Vv'ill also be
the survival of the individual
self
automatically satisfied in society in virtue of the fact that society
is
the
sum
of
its
individuals.
If,
it is
for example, every individual strives for a higher
standard of living
probable that the standard of living of the society as
a whole wiU be Mgh.

reason
is
It
seems to
me
that
most of the needs which are more
or less automatically fiUed by society are on the "material" plane.

that nearly
all
One
people feel the same material needs. Having agreed
on tlie need it is usualy not difficult to agree on means for meeting it. Everyone agrees that it is nice to have enough to eat and to have good roads to drive automobiles on, and everyone knows that to get these things land has to be planted to crops and roads bulldozed. Although the individual can regard society in the long run as a pretty effective arrangement for satisfying his material needs, this does not mean by any means that the interests of society and the individual are identical even on the
material plane. Wherever there
at the
is
personal aggrandisement of the individual
expense of others the conflict of material interests is manifest. The impulse to such personal aggrandisement is one of the commonest human
traits, all
the
way from
it is
the bully in school to the tyrant or dictator.

intellectual plane that the
its
However,
where
on the
mechanism
is
v/hich secures
adaptation of society to the needs of

failure to
individuals
least effective
and
meet the needs of the individuals concerned most

is
serious.
The
principle reason for this
perhaps the simple fact that so few in-
dividuals feel or express such intellectual needs. Perhaps the

intellectual
most pressing
need of the individual
is
simple integrity. Society, on the other
it conduces to social can have no assurance that the intellectual tools which he has inherited from society are of such a nature that he can use them with integrity, or that he can acquiesce with integrity
hand, has no need for integrity except insofar as

stability.
The
result is that the individual
which society expects him to accept. Not only is there no assurance that the individual can practice his intellectual life with integrity in the context afforded by society, but it seems to me to be a fact
in the social philosophy
of observation that such integrity
is
well-nigh impossible with the present
contemporary individual wants to live a life of intellectual integrity he pretty much has to do it on his own. Society as a whole is not interested in this and in fact is often positively hostile. There
make-up of
society. If the
are so few other individuals interested in

discussion of
ject,
it
that there
is little
or no public
how
is
and there
few books get written on the subno cumulative body of practice on which the individual can
to solve the problems,
build. Furthermore, the individual himself usually does not
come
to a
he has matured and relaxed sufficiently from the pressure of making things happen in the material world to be able to devote
realization of all this until
leisurely thought to
it.
Contrast this with the situation in physics
^where
330
would physics be today
self
if
P.W. BRIDGMAN
every
new
physicist
had
to start
by himself from
scratch? It will be a long time before the individual fully emancipates him-
from
his intellectual
thralldom to society, and therefore a long time
before the individual can effectively emerge. Perhaps the process

accelerated
this
I
somewhat
to
as leisure
becomes more
general,
may be and perhaps, even,

which
it
book may help a
little.
now propose
make an
will find
explicit list of situations in

it
seems to
me that the individual

tools
social philosophy
difficult to
use with integrity the intellectual
which he receives from society. I shall also list situations in which the which he is supposed to accept cannot be acquiesced in
be well
first
with integrity.
It
is
may
first
to attempt to clarify
what
mean by
"integrity." It
the
place an attribute of the individual, and, as
I shall
use
it
as ap-
plied to myself
and by projection to others, an attribute of which I am conscious. This is not the sense in which it is sometimes said that a "well integrated" person has integrity. The word is also sometimes used in a more impersonal sense, as for instance when a process of logic may be said to have integrity, but this usage is rare and is nearly synonymous with "soundness," and I shall not use the word in this sense. There is a connection with soundness, however. If I were aware that a certain process in logic were not sound and if I continued to use it, I would not be acting with integrity. Because of the implication of awareness it does not make sense to speak of society as having integrity. Although society as such cannot have integrity, nevertheless certain actions by society may have the same effect as would actions which performed by an individual would connote lack of integrity. For me, integrity in the individual impUes "intellectual honesty," but it is more than this. It is a frame of mind. Integrity demands that I want to know what the facts are and that I want to analyze and to understand my mental tools and know what happens when I apply these tools to the facts. The flesh being frail and life short and there being many other things to do I have to make some sort of compromise with the demands of integrity. But there is one thing which I may not do and retain my integrity if I have a new vision of something which I did not appreciate before, I may not try to put the vision back and pretend that I did not have it and refuse to admit that there may be consequences. Now it is often difficult to think through the consequences of a new vision, and often one simply does not have time. It seems to me that the individual who finds himself in such a situation can only react with diffidence "humility" is not quite the right word. And it is to be continually kept in mind that new visions do occur, both to the individual and to society. Intellectually the human race is still young, and even without any evolutionary change in its intellectual capacities, it has many new intellectual experiences ahead of it. Let us now consider in detail some of the characteristics of the mental tools, and this means mostly the verbal tools, which I have received from
society which make it difficult for me to practice intellectual integrity. We have discussed many respects in which the traditional tools are imperfect;
Words and Meanings
331
each of these imperfections is a potential danger to my integrity to the extent that I have not thought through how best to adapt myself to the imperfection. Some of these imperfections are not due to any "fault" of society, but would appear to be intrinsic in the nature of things, before which society
is
as powerless as the individual. Furthermore,
some
of the characteristics
of our mental tools which reflect something intrinsic in the nature of things
are not to be classed as imperfections at

bright
all,
at least until
someone has a
such perhaps are to be reckoned the commitment of our speech to the three-dimensionality of space and the forward flow of time. Among the characteristics which perhaps reflect something in-
new
idea.
Among
trinsic in the
nature of things and which

is
we would perhaps be more
inclined
to rate as imperfections
situations as
the inability of language to deal with self-reflexive

to be handled with the greatest
as
is
we would like. Language has circumspection if we are to avoid paradox,

some of the
situation
is
well
known with
regard to
situations in elementary logic.
A special case of the self-reflexive
afforded by introspection. There are great difficulties here
meet some of them by the device of using certain primarily introspectional words only as "relational" words, but this device does not meet all the demands. For example, we have seen that it is extraordinarily difficult to get into words what I mean by the "quality" of my sensahave
tried to
is nevertheless something pretty definite here to which nearly everyone responds. It may well be that we are here trying for something which is intrinsically unobtainable, for we are trying to get into words, which are the instrument of communication, that which cannot be communicated. We are up against it ^we cannot talk about it without using some noncommittal word like the "that" of the last sentence, whereas introspection discloses no "that." One of the most serious consequences
tion of red, but there
of this ineptness of words in dealing with introspection

that I cannot get
is
that
it
makes
it
so difficult to formulate satisfactorily the fundamental introspectional insight
away from
is
myself.
not especially obvious in these various specific ineptnesses of our verbal machinery. But it is not so obvious whether society has or has not played a role in casting our communication and thinking into the mold of words at all. The use of words may perhaps be inevitable
of society
The hand
because of the construction of the individual brain. Now words have certain characteristics that are so limiting that they may well be called imperfections. For example, words are static as used in language to convey
meaning, and a sentence in general has no meaning until it has been completed. But recognizable mental activities occur during the utterance of the sentence, and these activities are very difficult to get into words. It is not now obvious whether in the predawn of history the human race took a fork in the road which committed it to the use of the mechanism of words with
their static
meanings instead of a fork which might have allowed it to reproduce more faithfully the fluent character of things as they are. The formative hand of society is no less obvious in the way in which the
individual thinks about the future in general, particularly events after his
332
P.W. BRIDGMAN
death. Society has a continuity which the individual does
own presumptive
an obwhich the individual does not. I have not always found it easy to hold myself to a realization that any meaning which I have a right to ascribe to the future is to be found in things which happen to me, now. The conventional tool of language is not adapted to make this easier. Other examples could be given in fact examples could be drawn from most of the instances discussed in this book in which a conventional concept leaves something to be desired. However, enough has been said to show that the individual has not played a very large role in the development of
not, so that society finds a utility in the conventional concept of
jectively existing future
many
of the concepts which he uses,
and that these concepts themselves

all
are not particularly well adapted to the needs of the individual. In

these instances the role played by society has been
more or
less incidental
has been rather in the nature of an artifact of the There are many situations, however, in which the role played by society is more active, and indeed where the role played by society, if it had been played by an individual, would not have been called innocent. We have seen that the control exerted by the survival motif is so overwhelming that social philosophies get accepted and forced on the individual with no regard to their truth. Such disregard of truth in the behavior of an individual would hardly be said to exemplify integrity. Although the property of integrity can hardly be associated with the action of society as a whole, it must be remembered that the total activity of society is compounded of the actions of its individuals. I cannot believe that society has accepted casuistical arguments in the past without some individuals knowing that they were casuistical and condoning them, it may even be because of considerations of the common good. If there have been such individuals in the past, and history makes it evident that there have
and the
final result
total situation.
been,
cannot concede that they have been acting with
integrity.
look at some of the situations in which society asks the individual to subscribe to a philosophy which he cannot accept with integrity.
Let us
now
These often occur in connection with the rationalizations which society asks the individual to accept for its mores and codes of conduct, that is, for its values. It seems to me that one of the most sweeping dicta which society asks the individual to accept is the dictum that in the long run, and from the broad point of view, all things considered, the interests of society and the interests of the individual are identical. This dictum played an appreciable role in my own bringing up. Such a dictum may have been tenable with the assistance of the concept of a future life in which the individual may expect to be rewarded or punished in accordance with the social value of his actions on earth. But without such a supernatural mechanism, the dictum is just plain not true, and anyone would be a simple fool to accept it, to say nothing of integrity. Even if such a crude supernatural mechanism
is
not used, the importance to society of getting

is
its
individuals to accept
the values of society
obviously so great that
all
sorts of pressures are put
on the individual
to see his
own
values through the eyes of society.
The
Words and Meanings

some reason demands
by the
333
values of society are presented to the individual as having an absolute

quality that for
their acceptance
individual. In
their social context values thought of simply as values, without qualification,
forgetting that a value has to be a value for someone.
Now
if
anything
is
obvious to the individual

lute
this
it is
that his
own
values have nothing of the abso-
about them, but are continually changing with time, and therefore for
reason alone cannot possibly be identical with the values of society.
this is
But
let
something that society, for obvious reasons,

all
feels that
it
cannot
the individual say out loud, and does
in
its
power
to prevent. In-
tegrity in the thinking of the individual

tion.
demands
that he recognize this situais
Whether
not
integrity also
demands
that he speak his thought out loud
a matter for the individual to decide.

It is
difficult to
understand the mechanism by which the values of
society acquire a degree of absoluteness.
For when
talk about a value of
society I
am
talking about a sort of average or least

all
common
denominator
of the values of of society he
my
fellows.
And when my
neighbor talks about a value
is talking about a similar average, which he obtains by the same sort of process that I did, except that my value appears in his average and his own drops out, whereas in my case the converse happens, my own value dropping out and his appearing. When society consists of many individuals, the two averages, that of my neighbor and myself, are so nearly alike that the differences may be disregarded, and the "value" of society
emerges as something absolute in the sense that all individuals come to approximately the same result. Furthermore, a value thus generated has considerable stability in time, a much greater stability than do my own
personal values.
is
The reason
stability,
is
simply that the average over the community
the average over aU age groups, and the relative
numbers
in the different
age groups have
although the individual members of each age
group are in a constant state of flux. The values of society thus come to have a certain stability and "objectivity." This is no reason, however, why the individual who thinks about the matter should accept them.
The
situation presented
it
by values
is
typical of the general situation.
Society feels that
cannot permit free discussion of

is
many
topics,
and
in-
wherever
this
occurs the integrity of the individual
threatened.
The
stances could be multiplied. Perhaps the supreme example of an insight
which the individual must be prevented at all costs from saying out loud, and the utterance of which constitutes the supreme lese majeste against society, is that the individual is free to
any demand of
realizing this
society. Society will

it is
accept or reject in his inmost heart go to any length to prevent people from
my
personal opinion that some of the roots of juvenile

here; at least I can see
delinquency
may be found
how
might have been
forced into delinquency by such treatment.
The
institution of nationalism
is
one that society

is
at present expects the
individual to accept without discussion. It
easy to imagine the social
furor which would greet a proposal to discuss seriously the question
"Why
should
be patriotic?" The word "subversion" would often be heard in the
334
clamor. Politics within the nation affords
as ours
it is
P.W. BRIDGMAN
many
instances. In a country such
the
common
opinion that anyone born to be a citizen of the
country
is
by that very
fact
committed irretrievably to a defense of

is
its
po-
litical institutions
as the best possible. It
regarded as pretty close to
own political institutions are capable of improvement. The workings of such a philosophy are particularly obvious in a time like the present. Every one of us in this country should be reexamining our fundamental pohtical suppositions to see how they stand up
treason to suggest that one's
under the altered technological conditions of our times and to find ways of if it should appear desirable. Instead of this, because of rivalry with Russia, every citizen of this country is expected to defend the
modifying them
institutions of this country as better in every possible
way than
those of
Russia.
The disadvantages
of a set-up as inflexible
and
as frozen as this
would seem obvious without argument. So long as this inflexibility remains, the only way in which the human race as a whole and from a long range point of view can be expected to progress is in those few moments of flexibility when an old political system breaks down and is replaced by another. This occurred during our American Revolution. If we are not able to achieve greater flexibility it may happen again to us, in reverse. And if it is Russia that dominates after the next break-up, it will in turn happen to Russia, unless Communism achieves a flexibility of which it gives no present hint. In the meantime, and from the point of view of the individual, it is evident that the political arena is no place for the practice of individual integrity. It seems to be more and more the case that political success is
achieved at the cost of personal integrity.
The
pressures are hardly less compeUing in the field of ethics. It
is
ex-
pected that every individual will esteem the indefinite preservation and
welfare of the
sonally,
human
race as the supreme good and value for
him pernot being

ideal of
even
if
racial survival has to
be purchased
is
at the price of
aUowed
to use one's
mind
freely. It is also often
assumed that the
service to others or to the race in general
the highest motivation that
values must,
an individual can have for conduct. The usual rationalizations for these I think, strike the critical individual as pretty crude, but the individual is nevertheless expected to accept them. The difficulty of maintaining integrity in an atmosphere Uke this is obvious. It is not easy for the
individual to be continuaUy questioning
and
rejecting the consensus of his
feUows.
In spite of the generally unfavorable social atmosphere
I
that the difficulties of achieving a satisfactory intellectual integrity

social level are
do not believe on the
overwhelming, for
made by
society fails in intellectual probity. It
in saying this I
usuaUy pretty clear when a demand must be kept in mind that do not imply that integrity need be pushed to the point of
it is
martyrdom. Some individuals may feel that their integrity demands martyrdom, but such integrity is of another sort, not intellectual integrity. In fact, martyrdom may sometimes be evidence of just the opposite of inteUectual
integrity, involving a willful refusal to see things as they are.
c
Historical Inevitability
FRIEDRICH ENGELS
The
time
great systematic use of the doctrine of historical inevitability in our

is still
the one that stems
from Marx and Engels.
I give
below a
classical
statement of that doctrine from the pen of Friedrich Engels (1820-1895) the collaborator more, the chief stay and support of Karl Marx, without
whom,
it
can be argued, the very great
gifts of
Marx might have come
to
nothing.
THIS
POINT
is
IS
NOW
REACHED.
THEIR POLITICAL AND INTELLECTUAL

crisis,
bankruptcy
society
is
scarcely any longer a secret to the bourgeoisie themselves.
Their economic bankruptcy recurs regularly every ten years. In every

suffocated beneath the weight of
it
its
own
productive forces and
products, which
cannot use, and stands helpless, face to face with the
absurd contradiction that the producers have nothing to consume, because
consumers are wanting. The expansive force of the means of production bursts the bonds that the capitalist mode of production had imposed upon them. Their deliverance from these bonds is the one precondition for an unbroken, constantly accelerated development of the productive forces, and
therewith for a practically unlimited increase of production
this all.
itself.
Nor
is
means of production does away not only with the present artificial restrictions upon production, but also with the positive waste and devastation of productive forces and products that are at the present time the inevitable concomitants of production, and that reach their height in the crises. Further, it sets free for the community at large a mass of means of production and of products, by doing away
of the
The sociaUsed appropriation
with the senseless extravagance of the ruling classes of today, and their
political representatives.
The
possibility of securing for every
member
of
by means of socialised production, an existence not only fully sufficient materially, and becoming day by day more full, but an existence guaranteeing to all the free development and exercise of their physical and
society,
From
Aveling
(New York:
Friedrich Engels, Socialism: Utopian and Scientific. Translated by International Publishers Co., 1935), pp. 71-75.
Edward
336
337
mental faculties
this possibility is
now
for the
first
time here, but
it
is
here* With the
seizing of the means of production by society, production of commodities is done away with, and, simultaneously, the mastery of the product over the producer. Anarchy in social production is replaced by
systematic definite organisation.

appears.
off
The
man,
struggle for individual existence disin a certain sense, is finally
Then
for the
first
time,
marked
animal kingdom, and emerges from mere animal conditions of existence into really human ones. The whole sphere of the conditions of life which environ man, and which have hitherto ruled man, now comes under the dominion and control of man, who for the first time
from the
rest of the
becomes the
master of his
real,
conscious lord of nature, because he has

social organisation.
now become
social action,
own
The laws
full
of his
own
hitherto standing face to face with
man
as laws of nature foreign to
and
dominating him,
will
then be used with
understanding, and so mastered
by him. Man's own social organisation, hitherto confronting him as a necessity imposed by nature and history, now becomes the result of his own free action. The extraneous objective forces that have hitherto governed history pass under the control of man himself. Only from that time will man only from that himself, more and more consciously, make his own history time will the social causes set in movement by him have, in the main and in a constantly growing measure, the results intended by him. It is the ascent of man from the kingdom of necessity to the kingdom of freedom.
Let us
I.
briefly
sum up our
sketch of historical evolution.
Mediaeval Society
Individual production on a small scale.
Means
of production adapted for individual use; hence primitive, ungainly, petty, dwarfed in action. Production for immediate consumption, either of the
producer himself or of his feudal lords. Only where an excess of production over this consumption occurs is such excess offered for sale, enters into exchange. Production of commodities, therefore, is only in its infancy. But already it contains within itself, in embryo, anarchy in the production of
society at large.
II.
Capitalist Revolution
Transformation
of industry, at
first
of simple co-operation and manufacture. Concentration of the

*
by means means of
few
figures
may
serve to give an approximate idea of the
enormous expansive
force of the
to
modern means of production, even under

total
Mr. Giffen, the numbers, in
According wealth of Great Britain and Ireland amounted, in round

capitalist pressure.
1814 to 2,200,000,000 1865 to 6,100,000,000 1875 to 8,500,000,000 As an instance of the squandering of means of production and of products during a crisis, the total loss in the Germany iron industry alone, in the crisis 1873-78, was given at the second German Industrial Congress (Berlin, February 21, 1878)
as 22,750,000.
338
production, hitherto scattered, into great workshops.
their transformation
FRIEDRICH ENGELS
As
a consequence,
from individual to social means of production transformation which does not, on the whole, affect the form of exchange. The old forms of appropriation remain in force. The capitaUst appears. In his capacity as owner of the means of production, he also appropriates the products and turns them into commodities. Production has become a social act. Exchange and appropriation continue to be individual acts, the acts of individuals. The social product is appropriated by the individual capitalist. Fundamental contradiction, whence arise all the contradictions in which our present day society moves, and which modern industry brings
to light.
nation of the worker to wage labour for

proletariat
A. Severance of the producer from the means of production. Condemlife. Antagonism between the
and
the bourgeoisie.
B. Growing predominance and increasing effectiveness of the laws governing the production of commodities. Unbridled competition. Contradiction
between socialized organization in the individual factory and social anarchy in production as a whole.
C. On the one hand, perfecting of machinery, made by competition compulsory for each individual manufacturer, and complemented by a constantly growing displacement of labourers. Industrial reserve army. On the other hand, unlimited extension of production, also compulsory under competition, for every
manufacturer.
On
both
sides,
unheard of development of
productive forces, excess of supply over demand, overproduction, glutting

of the markets, crises every ten years, the vicious circle: excess here, of
means of production and products excess there, of labourers, without employment and without means of existence. But these two levers of production and of social well-being are unable to work together because the capitalist form of production prevents the productive forces from working and the products from circulating, unless they are first turned into capital which their very superabundance prevents. The contradiction has grown
into
an absurdity. The mode of production rises in rebellion against the form of exchange. The bourgeoisie are convicted of incapacity further to
manage
their
own
social productive forces.
D. Partial recognition of the

for production
social character of the productive forces
forced upon the capitalists themselves. Taking over of the great institutions
and communication,
state.
first
by
joint-stock companies, later
on
by
trusts,
then by the
its
The
bourgeoisie demonstrated to be a super-
fluous class. All
social functions are
now performed by
salaried
em-
ployees.
III.
339
Proletarian Revolution
Solution of the contradictions.
The
prole-
power, and by means of this transforms the socialised means of production, slipping from the hands of the bourgeoisie, into public property. By this act, the proletariat frees the means of production from the
tariat seizes the public
character of capital they have thus far borne, and gives their socialised
character complete freedom to
work
itself out.
Socialised production
upon
a predetermined plan becomes henceforth possible. The development of

production makes the existence of different classes of society thenceforth an
anachronism. In proportion as anarchy in social production vanishes, the

political authority of the state dies out.
form of
his
social organisation,
own master free. To accomplish this act
becomes
at the
Man, at last the master of his own same time the lord over nature,
is
of universal emancipation
the historical mission
of the
ditions
modem
proletariat.
To
thoroughly comprehend the historical conthis act, to
and thus the very nature of

act
it is
impart to the
now oppressed
meaning
the task of the
proletarian class a full knowledge of the conditions
and
of the
is
of the
momentous
called
upon
to accomplish, this
theoretical expression of the proletarian
movement,
scientific socialism.
ARNOLD
J.
TOYNBEE
The Pattern of the Past
One no
longer hears quite as
much
of Arnold
Toynhee (1889-
as one
did in the late forties and early
when D. C. Somervell' s abridgment of the immensely long and learned Study of History (10 volumes, 19341956) attained phenomenal success. But his work remains one of the great
fifties,
efforts of
true,
our time to build a world-view out of history
history seen,
it is
through the eyes of a convinced Christian t heist. Someday I suppose a doctoral thesis will examine with care Toynbee's work in direct compari-
son with
St.
Augustine's City of
God
perhaps
this
has already been done.

itself
The Study
of History, in the Somervell abridgment, does not lend
to
excerpting. I give therefore a brief
summary
of Toynbee's central concepts
by Pieter Geyl (1887
),
a distinguished Dutch historian

fairly.
who
disagrees
with him but does outline him
Indeed, I
know no
brief analysis of
Toynbee as good as this one. I follow with an interesting discussion between Toynbee and Geyl, originally aired over the Third Programme of the
British Broadcasting Corporation in 1948.
CHALLENGE AND RESPONSE

HIS [toynbee's]
work
is
intended to be a comparative study of

about history. Civilizations
is
civilizations as a basis for general conceptions
are for
him
the real units of history, not states, which he
wont
to indicate
self-
contemptuously as "parochial," or nations, whose hypertrophied

consciousness, under the description "nationalism," he detests.
In the six thousand years of which
we have knowledge, he
fixes their
lists
twenty-
one such
civilizations.
He
enumerates them,
mutual relationships
in so far as they were not self-contained, which is a rare occurrence and observes that they are all decayed or have perished, with the exception of Western civilization, that is the Latin-Christian civilization, which he represents as having sprung from the Hellenic, in its Roman phase. About
From
the Fast:
Pieter Geyl,
Arnold
J.
Can We Determine
It?
Toynbee, and Pitirim A. Sorokin, The Pattern of (Boston: Beacon Press, 1949), pp. 5-13, 73-89.
340
The Pattern of
the Past
341
the prospects of this, our
own
civUization, that big swallow-all, Professor
Toynbee leaves us
while he believes
rules;
it
in uncertainty;
he has already repeatedly touched upon

it
the problem, but only in his twelfth part will he treat

possible,
thoroughly.
Mean-
even
at this stage in his investigation, to state
sometimes he uses the word laws, on other occasions he speaks of

cir-
standard patterns of development, of tendencies occurring in certain
cumstances.
How
do
civilizations
come
into being?
Not by
climate, soil, or situation
favoring the process; on the contrary, by overcoming obstacles: thus the shock is administered by which portions of mankind have passed out of the
tegration of custom to the differentiation of civilization."
equilibrium of an existence without, or before, civilization, "from the inThe author pro-
ceeds to examine these adverse conditions at length under a number of headings: "hard countries," "blows," "pressures," "penalizations." "Challenge and response"
in
is
of
human human
history, a
the formula in which he summarizes this movement rhythm which makes itself felt over the entire field
action.
civilizations.
first
Next comes the growth of

over the environment, in the
physical environment loses
There
is
an increasing command
place the physical environment; there fol-
lows a process of what Toynbee terms "etherealization," in which the

its
importance, and action
shifts
from outside
and growth
to within. Progressive differentiation is
and remains
typical of the process
of growth.
Here too we are shown

it
in all stages the action of challenge
response. But the author thinks
possible to be
more
specific: the
of a civilization takes place through creative persons or creative minorities,
whose action is conditioned by a movement of "withdrawal and return." The larger half of Volume III is taken up by illustrations of this process. In Volume IV the phenomenon of the breakdown of civilization is discussed.
The
vast majority of civilizations
known
to us
have
after a longer
or a shorter period been overtaken by

differs greatly. It is
this fate.
The
duration of growth
not possible therefore to speak of a normal stretch of breakdown, and Toynbee expressly denies that the decline is inherent in an iron law of fate such as governs the physical world. The decay proceeds from the doomed civilization itself, but it must be understood as the result of a shortcoming not decreed by any law; it is a human failure, there is no necessity about it. The volume is mainly devoted to an analysis of the causes of breakdown. time from
rise to
Very emphatically he rejects the view that the downfall can be ascribed to forces from the outside. He finds the causes of breakdown in the retarding force which arises from the mechanical element in the "mimesis" of the majority that very mimesis through which the creative personality minority can obtain a hold on them; in the "intractability of institutions," or giving them a paralyzing or vitiating effect (he mentions very dissimilar instances, like those of democracy and industrialism acting upon "parochial" sovereignty, the effect of "parochialism" on churches, of religion on caste
342
ARNOLD
J.
TOYNBEE
systems); in what he calls "the nemesis of creativity," the stiffening or
exhaustion following upon creative action, as exemplified in the "idolization" of an achievement or of an attainment, of an institution, of a tech-
nique; under this heading he brings the intoxication of successful violence,
mihtarism, triumph
historical
not only in the military sense, though, for of the examples with which he illustrates his argument, none is elaborated at greater length than that of the papacy, which, after having been carried by Gregory VII to the height of power, was ruined by the blind self-conceit of Boniface VIII. (This, by the way, is his method throughout:
a large
number
and
of particular cases,
distant civilizations
from
alien
from antiquity or from modem times, and from our own, is always adduced
to prove the theses presented.)
Breakdown is followed by disintegration. This process is studied in Volumes V and VI. Nowhere else in human history has Professor Toynbee found so fixed a regularity. The "creative minority" changes into a "ruling minority," the masses into a "proletariat" a word by which Toynbee,
from its now usual narrower meaning, understands a group which has no longer any real share in the civilization of its society. This is the "schism," for him the first sign of a civilization's having broken
detaching
it
down
a schism into three parts, for besides the ruling minority there emerges "an internal and an external proletariat," which latter clashes
against the frontiers of the State or the
Empire of
the ruling minority.
The
course of history proceeds by the rhythm of challenge and response; but

while a growing society has always been able to find the right answer, and
broken-down society off the evil day and finds itself after some time confronted again by the same problem. In the souls of men, too, the schism can be observed. Social disharmony creates a feeling of impotence, of sin; the standards of style and of behavior get out of order; ways out of the unbearable present are tried through "archaism" back to the past, or through "futurism" a leap into the future; or an attempt is made to detach oneself from society by means of philosophy or of religion. Toynbee here discerns the working of another form of challenge and response, "schism and palingenesis": a higher religion is founded by the proletariat segregating itself from society, although the creation is only apparently due to the majority. The external proletariat reacts through the formation of "war bands" and "heroic poetry." In any
is
therefore faced each time
by a
different challenge, a
at best able to
can no longer
really succeed;
it is
put
case this
is
movement does not touch the now doomed society. Its history governed by another variant of the rhythm, "rout and rally." The rout
more
is
takes the form of ever
violent wars
between
states conscious only
of their independence; this
"the
Time
of Troubles," another sign of a
broken-down
civilization.
The
rally
materializes in a "universal state,"

is
the best creative
work
of which a ruUng minority

is
capable. But the breath-
ing-space of the pax oecumenica

brings in
its
of short duration, the universal state

it
train only
an "Indian summer," soon
is
troubled again
The Pattern
of the Past
343
another rout, followed by another

before, can
rally, until the rout, each time worse than no longer be stayed and leads to dissolution, to ruin. This is not, of course, the end of all things. A new civilization has been preparing itself, chrysalis-like woven into the Universal Church, a creation of the Schismatic Proletariat, and this now unfolds itself. As for the action of individuals in these circumstances, however brightly the creative spark may glow within them, it is doomed to failure. Professor Toynbee distinguishes four kinds of Saviors of Society for this is the shape in which the great man now appears: by the sword, by power; by an appeal these two are the attempts to save society to the past or to the future itself; then there are the two kinds of those who want to save man jrom
society: the founders of a philosophy
ruling minority, and the founders of a religion,
who, however, work only for the whose empire is not of this
world.
Professor Toynbee believes he has observed in history that this decline
of a civilization after
its
breakdown follows a much more regular course

set.
than the growing process, to which no inescapable limit has been
He
has been so
tions"
much
and phases
Time
struck by the uniformity with which the various "instituof Troubles, Universal State, Indian
Universal Church, External
War Bands and
Heroic Age
Summer,
a table.
in dis-
spring from the

all to
body of a
Stronger
disintegrating civilization that he has reduced
it
still is
the similarity of the psychological condition of
men
is
integrating civilizations.
:
The
general tendency can be characterized by the

result of all this violent
word "standardization" the

entiation.
movement
it
therefore
exactly the reverse of that in growing civilizations, where
leads to differ-
And
it
develops, in rout and rally, sub-rout and sub-rally,
down
to
catastrophe, in three and a half beats.
Here we have the dry bones of a system to which the author gives flesh and life. The idea inspiring him is that of Christianity. It is true that Toynbee at times recalls Spengler, and his view of history is in fact not unrelated to the Untergang des Abendlandes.
identification of civilizations with
He
expressly rejects Spengler's
animate beings, which are born, are
young, grow older, and die;

alone. Similarly,
when they break down it is by their own act he speaks emphatically against Spengler's connecting civilization with race. But if he insists on the freedom of choice, on the spiritual factor unrelated to blood or to the perishable flesh, he too carries to great
lengths the presentation of his civilizations as well-rounded units.
all,
Above
less
during the centuries-long process of disintegration following upon
breakdown, he sees them subjected to a regularity of decay hardly

rigid than Spengler's parallel with the biological process.
is
much he may diverge from Spengler, his system even more diametrically opposed to historical materialism. He may speak of laws, his mind may be stocked richly with scientific notions, from which his language is ever borrowing terms and images; in reality the
In any case, however
344
sovereignty and the freedom of the spirit are his
ARNOLD
more than a mere decoration
J.
TOYNBEE
main concern and his them he finds his profoundest truths foreshadowed and confirmed. God become man in Christ is to him the veritable sense of history. Of the great constructors of systems, St. Augustine is most closely related to him in spirit, and Professor Toynbee himself, in the preface to his second series, written in that gloomy year 1939, brings respectful homage to the bishop who completed De Civitate Dei while the Vandals were besieging his episcopal
Bible texts are
of his argument, for in
town. Material advantage
is
nothing in Toynbee's view;
it
is
is
obstacles
which rouse the
spirit to
consciousness. Violence he detests, he
a searcher
spirit,
after "gentleness."
He
is
meets history with ethical appreciations. The

illusion, if
the highly gifted individual, the small group, these are the sources of creative force.
it
Power
an
not a boomerang.
As
a civilization grows,
ethereaUzes.
What
all
exactly does he
mean by
is
this?
He
expresses
it
in
morphological, in biological, in philosophical, and finally also in reUgious

terms.
No
:
doubt
the rest for
him
comprehended
in the phrase be-
longing to the last-named category, according to which etherealization
means "a conversion of the soul from the World, the

to the
Flesh,
and the Devil,
Kingdom
of Heaven."
DISCUSSION BETWEEN PIETER GEYL AND ARNOLD J. TOYNBEE

Professor Geyl
The
six
it
war, but
famous.
of the
volumes of Toynbee's Study of History appeared before the is since the war that the book and the author have become generation only just recovering from the terrible experiences
future,
its
is
war and already anxious about the

in
its
reading the work in the
hope of finding
spectacle of
I
pages the answer to
perplexities. It is indeed the
author's claim to discover for us, in the at
first
sight chaotic
. . .
and confusing
human history, must come straight to
a pattern, a rhythm.
the
main
features of the system.
Has Toynbee
proved that the histories of civilizations fall into these sharply marked stages of growth and disintegration, separated by breakdown? Has he proved that the work of the creative minds, or of the creative minorities, can be successful only in the first stage and that in the second it is doomed
to remain so
much
fruitless effort?
How do I know that the difference is caused by the triumphant creator acting in a growmg society, and the hopelessly struggling one in a society in disintegration? I have not been convinced of the essential difference between the phases of civilization. There are evil tendencies and there are good tendencies simultaneously present at every stage of human history, and the human intellect is not sufficiently comprehensive to weigh them off against each other and to tell, before the event,
In
my
opinion he has not.
The Pattern
which
is
of the Past
345
to
or the leading minority,
have the upper hand. As for the theory that the individual leader, is capable of creative achievement in a growing
society only
and doomed
to disappointment in
one that
is is
in disintegration
that theory lapses automatically
when
the distinction
not admitted in
to reply.
the absolute
I
am
which our author propounds it. glad that you are present here, Toynbee, and gomg
form
in
For
But
this is surely a point of great practical
importance.
Study of History does

its
not definitely announce ruin as did Spengler's book by

in
very
title.
more than one passage you
give us to understand that Western civiliza-
tion broke down as long ago as the sixteenth century, as a result of the wars of religion. The last four centuries of our history would thus, according to your system, be one long process of disintegration, with collapse except for the miracle of a reconversion to the faith of as the inevitable end
our fathers. There is no doubt, when we look around us, a great deal to induce gloom. But I do not see any reason why history should be read so as to deepen our sense of uneasiness into a mood of hopelessness. EarUer generations have
also
had
their troubles
and have managed
to struggle through.
There
is
nothing in history to shake our confidence that the future Ues open before
us.
Professor Toynbee
The fate of the world the destiny of mankind is involved in the issue between us about the nature of history. In replying to Professor Geyl now, I am going to concentrate on what, to my mind, are his two main lines of attack. One of his general criticisms is: "Toynbee's view of history induces gloom," The other is: "Toynbee has set himself to do something impossible. He is trying to make sense of human history, and that is beyond the capacity of the human mind." I will pay most attention to this second point, because it is, I am sure, by far
the
more important
of the two.
history did point to a
"gloom" point first. Suppose my view of gloomy conclusion, what of it? "Gloomy" and "cheerful" are one thing, "true" and "false" quite another. Professor Geyl has interpreted me rightly in telling you that I have pretty serious misgivings about the state of the world today. Don't you feel the same misgivings? Doesn't Professor Geyl feel them? That surely goes without saying. But what doesn't go without saying is what we are going to do about it; and here Professor Geyl has been handsome to me in telling you where I stand. He has told you that I disbelieve in predestination and am at the opposite pole, on that supremely important question, from the famous German philosopher Spengler. He has told you that my outlook is the reverse
Let
me
try to dispose of the
of historical materialism; that, in
my
view, the process of civilization
is
one of vanquishing the material problems to grapple with the spiritual ones; that I am a believer in free will; in man's freedom to respond with
346
all his
ARNOLD
heart and soul and
is
J.
TOYNBEE
mind when life presents him with a challenge. But how, I ask you, can one lift up one's heart and apply one's mind unless one does one's best to find out the relevant facts and to look them in the face? the formidable facts as weU
Well, that
what
do
believe.
as the encouraging ones.
In the state of the world today, the two really formidable

see them, are that the other civilizations that
facts, as I
all broken down, and that in our recent history one sees some of those tendencies which, in the histories of the broken-down civilizations, have been the obvious symptoms of breakdown. But what's the moral? Surely not to shy at the facts. Professor Geyl himself admits them. And also, surely, not to be daunted by the "sense of uneasiness" which these formidable facts are bound to give us. "I don't see any reason," said Professor Geyl just now, "why history should be read so as to deepen our sense of uneasiness into a mood of hopelessness." That is a teUing criticism of Spengler, who does diagnose that our civilization is doomed, and who has nothing better to suggest than that we should fold our hands and await the inevitable blow of the axe. But that ball doesn't take my wicket, for in my view, as Geyl has told you, uneasiness is a challenging call to action, and not a death sentence to paralyze our wills. Thank goodness we do know the fates of the other civilizations; such knowledge is a chart that warns us of the reefs ahead. Knowledge can be power and salvation if we have the spirit to use it. There is a famous Greek epigram which runs: "I am the tomb of
we know
of have
a shipwrecked sailor, but don't
let that frighten off
you, brother mariner,
from setting sail; because, when we went down, the other ships kept afloat." "There is nothing in history," said Professor Geyl in his closing sentence, "to shake our confidence that the future Ues open before us." Those might have been my own words, but I don't quite see what warrant Professor Geyl has for using them. The best comfort Professor Geyl can give us is: "If we take care not to unnerve ourselves by trying to chart the seas, we may be lucky enough to get by without hitting the rocks." No, I haven't painted him quite black enough, for his view is still gloomier than that.
"To make a
Geyl's
chart of history," he says, "is a sheer impossibility." Professor

chart,
own
you
see, is the "perfect
and absolute blank" of Lewis

to
it
Carroll's bellman
who hunted
the snark. Geyl, too, has a chart, like Spengler
and me.
chart
is
We
is
all
of us have one, whether
we own up
But
or not, and no
more than one man's shot

I
at the truth.
surely, of those three,
the blank
the most useless and the
most dangerous.
I
Professor Geyl thinks
am
a pessimist because
see a
way
of escape
m
"is
a reconversion to the faith of our fathers. "This," says Professor Geyl,
an unnecessarily gloomy view of our situation"
like
the old lady
who was advised to leave it to Providence and exclaimed: "Oh dear, has it come to that?" What was our fathers' chart of history? As they saw it, it was a tale told by God, unfolding itself from the Creation through the FaU and the
The Pattern
Redemption seems hke a
it is
of the Past
to the Last Judgment.
tale told
347
As
Professor Geyl says he sees
it,
it
by an
idiot, signifying nothing.

is
You may
not agree
with our fathers' view that history

a poor exchange, isn't
it,
a revelation of God's providence; but

their faith for the
to
swap
view that history
makes no sense. Of course, Professor Geyl

mine.
that
is
no more singular
in his view than I
am
in
What one may call the nonsense view among Western historians for the last few
some of
it is
of history has been fashionable

generations.
the holders of this view
Professor Geyl
that
scientific.
among the Of course,
numberdefend
I
it is
don't
The odd thing is know whether I could count

principally
it
on the ground
only
wanted
scientific in an age am, myself, a historian lot to teach us. But how strange to suppose that one is being scientific by despairing of making sense! For what is science? It is only another name for the careful and scrupulous use of the human mind. And, if men despair of reason, they are lost. Nature hasn't given us wings, fur, claws, antennae or the most elephant's trunks; but she has given us the human intellect effective of all implements, if we are not too timid to use it. And what does
to
be
prestige. I
human that historians should have when science has beeen enjoying such who believes that science has an awful
this scientific intellect

It
do?
it
It
looks at the facts, but
it
doesn't stop there.
looks at the facts and
tries to
make
sense of them.
It
does,
very thing that Professor Geyl takes

facts of history.
Is history really
me
to task for trying to
you see, the do with the
too hard a nut for science to crack?
When
intellect
has wrested her secret from physical nature, are
the human we going to sit
down under an ex cathedra dictum that the ambition to discover the secret human history will always be bound to end in disappointment? We don't need to be told that Man is a harder a very much harder nut than the atom. We have discovered how to split the atom and are in danger of splitting it to our own destruction. By comparison with the science of
of
physics, the science of

fields
man
at
is
so difficult that our discoveries in the two

till
have gone forward
an uneven pace
they have got quite out of

fix.
step with each other.
It is partly this that
has got us into our present

it?
Is science to shirk trying to
do anything about
"The proper study of

not
mankind
I say:
is
man," says Pope. "The human

comprehensive."
can't afford such defeatism;
it is
intellect," sighs Geyl, "is
sufficiently
We
it is
unworthy of the greatness of
man's mind; and
refuted by the
great victories
is
human
mind's past achievements. The
mind has won

in
all its
by well-judged boldness.
And
today,
before our eyes, science
what
is
now
launching a characteristically bold offensive the key area of the mental battlefield. Why, she has got her
nutcrackers round this nut, this

is
human
nut, already.
One arm
is
of the pincers
the exciting young science of psychology, which
opening out entirely

in
new mental horizons

need of longer
vistas.
for us, in the very direction in
which we are most
The
other
is
the forbidding yet rewarding discipline
348
of Statistics. Science has set herself
ARNOLD
J.
TOYNBEE
now
in
human
of
nature, and, through understanding, to

to set itself free. Science, so long
good earnest to comprehend show it how to master itself

preoccupied with the riddles
and thereby
religion,
non-human
nature, has
now
joined in the quests of philosophy and
no time
critical
and this diversion of her energies has been timely. There is, indeed, to be lost. We are in for a life-and-death struggle. And, at this hour, is science to get no support from our professedly scientific
historians?
Well, in this "mental fight," I have deliberately risked

ting
my
neck by put-
my own
reading of the facts of history on the table. I should never
of claiming that my particular interpretation is the only one possible. There are, I am sure, many different alternative ways of analyzing history, each of which is true in itself and illuminating as far as it goes, just as, in dissecting an organism, you can throw light on its nature by laying bare
dream
either the skeleton or the muscles or the nerves or the circulation of the
one of these dissections teUs the whole truth, but each it. I should be well-content if it turned out that I had laid bare one genuine facet of history, and even then, I should measure my success by the speed with which my own work in my own line was put out of date by further work by other people in the same field. In the short span of one lifetime, the personal contribution of the individual scholar to the great and growing stream of knowledge can't be more than a tiny pailful. But if he could inspire other scholars to pour or provoke in their pailfuls too, well, then he could feel that he had really done his job. And this job of making sense of history is one of the crying needs of our day I beg of you, beUeve me.
blood.
of
single
No
them
reveals a genuine facet of
Professor Geyl
WeU
that
must
say,
Toynbee, that
I
I felt
some anxiety while you were pour-
ing out over
me
this torrent of
eloquence, wit and Ijurning conviction, but

to expect
there,
from you. And now that is over and my position untouched. Professor Toynbeee pictures me as one of those men who mistake the courage to see evils for gloom, and who when others sound the call for action take refuge from the dangers of our time in an illusionist optimism. But have I been saying that we are not in danger? And that no action is required? What I have said is that Toynbee's system induces the wrong kind of gloom because it tends to make action seem useless. "But I am a believer in man's free will," Toynbee replies. I know. But nevertheless, his system lays it down that the civilization which has been overtaken by a breakdown is doomed. Now Toynbee has repeatedly suggested that our Western civilization did suffer a breakdown as long ago as the sixteenth century, and that consequently, try as we may, we cannot avoid disaster. Except in one way, except in case we allow ourselves to be reconverted to the faith of our fathers. And here Toynbee exclaims: "You see, I'm not so
was of course what

feel that
had
I'm reheved to
I'm
still
The Pattern of
gloomy
the Past
349
if
after all."
Perhaps not. But
one happens to hold a
different
opinion both of the efficacy and of the Ukelihood of application of his particular remedy, one cannot help thinking that Toynbee is but offering us
cold comfort.
He
talks as
if
we cannot advance
matters by "so hotly canit,
vassing and loudly advertising," as he contemptuously puts
"our
political
and economic maladies." It is the loss of religious faith that is the deadly danger. To most of us this is indeed condemning all our efforts to futility. Of course, Toynbee, it is only your picturesque way of putting things when you describe me as one of those historians who cling to the nonsense view of history. Because I cannot accept either your methods or your system it does not follow that to my mind history has no meaning, I do not believe that at any time it will be possible to reduce the past to so rigid a pattern granted. Yet to me, as to you, the as to enable us to forecast the future
greatest function of the historian

in
it,
is
to interpret the past
to find sense
although at the same time

surprised that
it is
the least scientific, the
most inevitably
believe that
subjective of his functions.

I
am
you
class
me
with those historians
who
view of history rests securely on scientific foundations. In fact it is you who claim to be proceeding on the lines of empiricism towards laws of universal validity, while I have been suggesting that these and other
their
scientific
historical argument.
terms which you are fond of using have no real meaning in a Even just now, didn't you deduce from the conquest
atom the certainty that man's mind will be able to conquer the mystery of the historical process as weU? In my opinion these are fundamentally different propositions. Let me remind you especially of what I have been saying about the uncertain nature of historical events, and the difficulty of detaching them from their contexts. And also of my contention that the cases and mstances
of the mystery of the
strewn over your pages have been arbitrarily selected from an infinite number and haven't therefore that value as evidence which you attach to them.
Professor Toynbee
There can be no doubt that you look upon this last point as an important one. ... I see what you're getting at. I set out to deal with history in terms of civilizations, of which there are, of course, very few specimens, but in the illustrations I give, and the points I make, I don't confine myself to these
rare big fellows, I
of
my
points events
arbitrarily,
hop about all over the on a much smaller
chosen
They
two
also, as
one. Yes, I
because they're just out, lend themselves to more interpretations than think that's fair criticism, and quite telling. In answer I'd say
up as illustrations which to you seem to be a few taken out of a large number.

place, bringing
scale,
you point
things. I think, as I said a
often can be analyzed legitimately in a
minute or two ago, the same historical event number of different ways, each of
historical truth
I
which brings out some aspect of goes, though not the whole truth.
which is true as far as it have myself sometimes made the same
350
historical event
is
ARNOLD
do double or
treble duty in this
J.
TOYNBEE
way, and
don't think this
a misleading
way
of using facts.
As
I've said before, several different
all be correct, each in its own line. second point is that I bring in these illustrations taken from the small change of history, not for their own sake but to throw indirect light
dissections can
My
on the big
history in
units,
which
I call civilizations,
which are
my main
concern. I
helped myself out in
this
way
because, in the very early stage in

living, the
human
which our generation happens to be zations that have come into existence up to
number
of
date,
is
still
so small
not
civili-
more than about twenty, as I make it out. To take up the case of your own country, Holland, now, which I have used to throw light on the rise of the Egyptian and Sumerian civilizations: you challenged my account of Holland's rise to greatness. I found my explanation of it in the stimulus of a hard country. The people of Holland had to wrest the country for the sea and they rose to the occasion. Your criticism is that I've arbitrarily isolated one fact out of several. The Dutch, you say, didn't do it by themselves, they were helped at the start by efl&cient outsiders, and then the country, when it had been reclaimed, turned out to have a rich soil, as well as a good situation for commerce. Yes, of course, those are also facts of Dutch history, but my answer is that they're not the key facts. If the outsiders that you have in mind are the Romans, well, the benefits of Roman efficiency were not enjoyed by Holland alone; Belgium, France and England enjoyed them as well. So
Holland's
apprenticeship won't account for achievements that are Holland and that distinguish her from her neighbors. Then the fertile soil and good location: these aren't causes of Holland's great feat of fighting and beating the North Sea, they're effects and rewards of it. It is a case of "to him that hath, shall be given." What the Dutch had, before these other things were given them, was the strength of will to raise
special to
their country out of the waters.
Roman
The
terrific
challenge of the sea to a country
below sea level is surely the unique and distinguishing feature of Dutch history. With all deference to you, Geyl, as a Netherlander and a historian, I still think I'm right in picking out the response of the people of Holland to this challenge as being the key to the greatness of your country. I do
Holland throws valuable light on the cases and Babylonia, two other places where people have had to fight swamp and sea in order to reclaim land, and where this struggle between man and nature has brought to life two out of the twenty or so civilizations
also think that the case of
of Egypt
known to us. Of course if one could
lay hands on some more civilizations, one might be able to study history on that scale without having to bother about little bits and pieces like Holland and England. I wish I were in that happy position, and if you now, Geyl, would help me by taking up your archeological spade and unearthing a few more forgotten civilizations for me, I should
be vastly obliged to you. But even
if
you proved yourself a Layard,
Schlie-
The Pattern
of the Past
rolled into one,
351
mann and Arthur Evans

jBgure of twenty-one
known
civilizations to twenty-four,
you could only raise my present and that of course
wouldn't help
me
to reduce
my
To
turn for a
moment
to a different point, I
sion that I think our listeners were saying just now. Anyway, I got the impression myself that you still thought I claimed to be able to foretell the future from the past, that I'd laid it down that our own civilization was doomed. This is a veiy important point and I want to make my position on it clear beyond all possibiUty of mistake. So let me repeat: I don't set up to be a prophet, I don't believe
history can be used for telling the world's fortune, I think history can perhaps sometimes show one possibilities or even probabilities, but never certainties. With the awful warning of Spengler's dogmatic determinism
margin of error appreciably. want to correct an impresmay have got, of something else that you
before
my
eyes, I always
have been and

our
shall
be mighty careful, for an open question

I
part, to treat the future of

all
own
civilization as
not
my
at
because I'm afraid of committing myself, but because
believe as strongly
as
you do, Geyl,
that
it is
an open question.
ROBERT
L.
HEILBRONER
Robert L. Heilbroner (1919) is a young American writer trained as an economist. I conclude this subsection on historical inevitability with an excerpt from his thoughtful essay, The Future As History, Mr. Heilbroner's position is far from that of doctrinaire historical determinism. Indeed, as a historian, I am delighted to be able to cite this measured, sensible little book as evidence that one can accept history as a guide, even
a restraint, a limitation, without setting
in this latter case,
it is it
really the historian
Mr. Heilbroner s own "view of life" as it not an example of "alienation," nor of "anti-intellectualism" nor of "existentialism," but rather of what I shall call chastened Enlightenment, Enlightenment without hubris.
up as a master. For, of course, who sets himself up as master. comes out in this book is surely
A RECAPITULATION OF THE FUTURE

IN
AS HISTORY
we have always
its
THE PAST, AS
WE KNOW, WE HAVE APPROACHED THE FUTURE WITH THE

is,
sustaining beliefs of a philosophy of optimism. That
conceived of the future in terms of

patibility
its
benignity,
if
its
malleability,
com-
with our hopes and desires. But
any purpose, it no longer possible for America to commit itself trustingly into the hands of a deity of history whose agent forces are comfortably ckcumscribed and comfortingly familiar. If one thing is certain it is that history's forces have reached a power utterly unlike that of our sheltered past, and that the changes those forces portend are very different from the propitious historic transformations they brought about in our past. Let us briefly recapitulate what some of those changes are likely to be: 1. As a consequence of the new weapons technology we have not only lost our accustomed mihtary security, but also any possibility of enforcing
It is
our preceding pages have had has been to demonstrate the inadequacy of this beUef today.
From Robert L. Heilbroner, The Future As History Brothers, 1960), pp. 175-178, 181-184, 193-209.
352
(New York: Harper &
The Limits
of Determinism
353
a military "solution" to the problem of communism. The weapons stalemate has thus magnified the influence of the non-military determinants of
the central struggle of our times.
The
"historic forces" of politics
and eco-
nomics, of technologies and ideologies, are therefore of crucial importance

in the resolution of this contest.
2.
The trend
of these forces
is
not an encouraging one. In the huge

witnessed an explosive awaken-
continents to the East and South
we have
ing of hitherto ignored or abused peoples,
who now
seek a rapid redress
of their age-old grievances. This has led the underdeveloped nations into an effort which, in the a desperate effort for economic development
environment of underdevelopment, turns naturally in the direction of economic collectivism. There are strong possibilities that this collectivism will veer far to the left, whether or not it falls directly under communist hegemony. It is hkely as well to discard the frail structures of democracy,
and to maintain its morale by an exaggerated nationalism. Finally, we must not ignore the possibihty that American economic growth, by widening the gap between the underdeveloped peoples and ourselves, may place
America
3.
at the focus of the frustration

is
and resentments which economic

is
development
likely at first to generate.
At
the
same
time, the drift of Western society

all
itself
away from
own, a framework of "socialist" planning is replacing the unregulated market mechanism. In Europe this drift into planning is made more significant by the fact that European capitaHsm, unlike American, is not a self-assured and unchallenged social order. 4. However, within our own nation there are strong tendencies which move us away from the traditional, and now perhaps nostalgic idea of American society. One of these is the rampant technological and scientific development which marks our time. This development manifests itself in a proliferation of institutions needed to "support" the increasingly dependent individual, and in the rise of bureaucratic apparatuses needed to control the technological machinery itself. The rise of the welfare state, on the one hand, and of the military bureaucracy, on the other, are instances of the manner in which technology is enforcing a socialization of life. 5. There are also visible other tendencies which are transforming our society, particularly in its economic aspect. There is a strong likelihood that a radical redefinition of the Hmits of public economic activity will be enforced by the pressure of events. Over the near future this is likely to be provided in disguised form by the enlarging military sector, but in the
the traditional forms of capitaUsm. In
nations, including our
longer run
the miUtary.
we shall probably be forced to find civilian outiets to replace Somewhat further ahead lies the still more difficult problem
of providing internal economic discipfine in a society in which the usual market control mechanisms are increasingly weakened by widespread social abundance. 6. All these collectivist trends are accelerated by our main historic
354
ROBERT
L.
HEILBRONER
movement
our
growth.
The problem then

it
is
the degree to which our
blind economic
momentum makes
impossible to respond effectively to
the technological, political, and economic forces which are bringing about
is a question to which dogmatic must be pointed out that an effective control over the historic forces of our times would require changes not only in the structure of power but in the common denominator of values, which do not seem likely to occur, at least for a considerable period.
a closing-in of our historic future. This

it
answers caimot be given. But
THE LIMITS OF THE POSSIBLE

history
what is "possible" and "impossible" in Everyone who considers soon comes up against a classic dilemma. This is the dilemma of
.
.
"free will"
toric
is
or in terms of the historic process, of determinism versus hisIt

is
freedom.
the
dilemma of choosing between a world where
everything
"possible" and therefore where nothing can be counted on,
including the most basic necessities for the continuance of the human community; and a world where nothing is possible, and therefore where nothing can be hoped for except that which is inevitably and immutably fixed and beyond alteration. It is a choice between history as chaos and
history as a prison.
This is a dilemma which still exercises philosophers and historians. But the dilemma has more to do with the limitations of abstract thought than with the experience of history itself. For when we turn to the living which reality of history, we do not encounter a dilemma, but a problem is a very different thing. And this problem is not to formulate the meaning of historic freedom in general and forever, but to determine in the light
of the actualities of the
moment how much

beyond.
of history Hes within our
grasp and
how much Once we approach

is
lies
the matter in this direct and pragmatic fashion, the

itself intelligibly
idea of what
us.
"possible" in history presents
enough before
life,
We
then find ourselves confronted, as a condition of
with a
situation
which may be
is
logically
awkward but which

glacial
is
not at
all
awkward
as a fact. This
the coexistence of freedom and necessity in history of

its
the
its
simultaneous
"necessities"
existence
imperturbability,
its
its
"laws,"
its
on the one hand, and its "freedom," ability to our wills on the other. The point at which we can divide freedom from
clarity.
openness,
amento
necessity also
comes
it
such
that
is
us with reasonable
We
all
know
that there are
some
historic events
as, for instance,
the internal politics of Soviet rule
which
is
virtually impossible for us to affect.

lie
directly
We
recognize another class of events
or at least to an important degree
within the scope
of our control and responsibility.
The
"possibility" of war, for instance,
a matter in which we are quite sure immense and probably determinative role
that our free decisions play an

all
the
more
so, since so
many
aspects of the "historic" situation clearly set the stage for war.
The Limits
This
of Determinism
355
is, however, only one way of assessing what is historically possible For what we deem to be "historic events" by no means exhausts the aspects of change and development in history. As Karl Popper reminds us, "There is no history of mankind, there is only an indefinite number of histories of all kinds of aspects of human life";^ and when we turn to those aspects of history with which this book has been primarily concerned
for us.
the aspects of social change rather than of immediate political conflict

find our possibilities of history-making sharply curtailed. In our society,
we
the "history" of technological progress and penetration, or the "history" of
and economic development are not facets of human life which we normally subject to "history-making" decisions. In general we allow these aspects of history to follow their autonomous courses, and to evolve by their unguided interactions. Thus we Hmit our idea of what is possible in history by excluding from our control the forces of history
political belief
themselves.
This
is
a very different situation from that which obtains in a
more
collectivistic society.
The enormous
national effort of Russian growth or
the wholesale alterations in the social structure of China are instances of

historic
change whose possibility was

in
initially
discounted by observers
who had
to
of society.
mind the The point,
limitations of historic intervention in our
own kind
limits
then,
is
that there are
no
fixed
and immutable
is
what
is
historically possible. Rather, different organizations of society
define for themselves the limits of
what
is
and what
not within reach of
conscious history-making choice. Authoritarian societies, as a generaUty,
than open
have a much more comprehensive direction of the "forces" of history societies. On the other hand, open societies, through their
democratic apparatus, retain a wider degree of control over the course of
their "heroic" history,
i.e.,
over the policies of their leaders.
THE INERTIA OF HISTORY

Because we
of optimism
live in a
time of great change, and because our philosophy

of and receptive to change,
makes us expectant
is
we may
easily overlook a deeply important aspect of historic development. This

is its
quality of inertia. It
ance to change
in the viscosity
although
a quality which
is
is
manifest not only in resistaspects
that
one of
its
more important
but
which is imparted to history because people tend to repeat and continue their ways of life as long as it is possible for them to do so. We do not usually call inertia to mind when we seek the great molding
And yet this humble characteristic is responsible for more of "history" than all the campaigns, the movements, the revolutions we readily call to mind. The simple, but quintessential fact that human beings persist in living their lives in familiar ways, which are the only ways
forces of history.
they
know how,
is
the very lifeline of social continuity
itself.
This inertia which exerts so powerful a drag on history undoubtedly has
^The Open
Society (London, 1952), vol.
II, p.
270.
356
its
ROBERT
and psychological
roots.
L.
HEILBRONER
biological
human
characteristic. It is also the
But it is more than just an "innate" outcome of the historic social condition
of man. For the persistence of habit acts as a protective reflex for the overwhelming majority of men who know very little except that life is a fragile possession, and that tried and true ways, however onerous, have at least proved capable of sustaining it. A muUsh perseverance in old ways is not without reason when life is lived at the brink of existence where a small error may spell disaster. An instance in point was provided some years ago when a team of United Nations agricultural experts sought in vain to persuade Turkish farmers to improve their crops by removing the stones from their fields. Finally a few of the younger ones consented whereupon, to the chagrin of the experts, their yields promptly declined. In the arid climate of Turkey, the stones had served the function of help-
ing to retain the scanty moisture in the

Inertia
soil.^
shows itself as well in a general reluctance to embrace new social ideas. Reformers throughout history have deplored the tenacity even with which the privileged classes have clung to their prerogatives when it was no longer in their "best interests" to do so. This is not so surprising when we view the enormous gulf which has normally separated
is far more striking is the making even the most miserable and oppressed classes "see" the inequity of their lot, and in persuading them to rise in protest. The fact that our historic glance is easUy caught by a few jacqueries obscures the fact that revolutions are remarkable in
the privileged and the unprivileged.
What
difficulty
which reformers have had
in
history
not for their frequency but for their
rarity,
even though the
"normal" condition of
possible the
fixity of
man
has always been harsh enough to warrant
revolutionary sentiments.
human
We must conclude that whenever it has been being has wished to believe in the rightness and
is
the situation in which he has found himself.
The
inertia of ideologies as well as of institutions

fact. It is
often taken as a
lamentable
the despair of the social engineer, the bete noir of the
Utopian planner. Nonetheless

structive role
we must remember that there is a conwhich this inertia also plays. A society without ideological inertia would Uve from mstant to instant in peril of a fatal turning. The fixity of our voting habits, our customary beliefs, our stubbornly held ideas, even when these are wrong, serves a purpose in protecting and stabilizing the community. The reformer who despairs because people will not listen to reason forgets that it is this same suspicion of change which
helps to prevent people from heeding the Pied Pipers for
whom
society
never lacks.
We may make
first
progress only by freeing ourselves from the
rut of the past, but without this rut
an orderly society would hardly be
possible in the
place.
"progress" in two respects. In the
This historic undertow of inertia warns us against facile conceptions of first place it disabuses us of the notion
^Cultural Patterns and Technical Change, ed. Margaret

p.
Mead (New York,
1955),
186.

of the "ease" of social change. For most of the world's peoples,
357
who have
known
only the changlessness of history, such a stress on the difficulty of
change would not be necessary. But for ourselves, whose outlook is conditioned by the extraordinary dynamism of our unique historic experience, it is a needed caution. Contrary to our generally accepted belief, change is not the rule but the exception in life. Whether it is imposed from above
or imposes
itself
from below, change must reckon with the reluctance of
humankind
This
is
to relinquish habits not only of a lifetime, but of life itself.
the reason
why even such enormous
transformations as those
we
have dealt with in this book are slow, stretched out over generations, invisible from one day to the next. Second, the drag of inertia warns us against the overestimation of the effects of change. The optimistic conception of progress calls our attention to the sweeping improvements which can be brought about by technology
or democracy or economic advance. All that
goes.
is
certainly true as far as
it
one can doubt the capacity of history's forces to legislate beneficial changes in society. But there is a level of social existence to which these forces penetrate last and least. This is the level at which "society" is visible only as the personal and private encounters of each of us with his fellow man. It is the level at which life is lived, rather than the level at
No
which
it is
abstractly conceived.
Here,
at this final level of
personal experience, the inertia of history
is
most apparently manifest. It is here that the revolutionary, having brought about tremendous changes in "society," comes to grips with the petty irritations of inefficient colleagues and apathetic clerks, of the "human factor" which like sand in a machine, has wrecked so many well-planned enterprises. It is not that revolutions, or the more gradual changes of historic evolution, make these daily frictions of life any worse. It is
rather that so
much
of
life
remains the same, regardless of the new
boundaries in which
it is
contained.
In
this grinding persistence of the
"human
factor" lies the reason for
much
of the disillusion which so frequently follows a passionate attempt to
bring about social progress.
As
Ignazio Silone has written:
"PoHtical
of
regimes
life,
come and
go;
bad
habits remain."^
The underlying sameness

"bad habits,"
is
the reassertion of old established ways, of
of history which
must not be
lost to sight
an aspect amid the more dramatic changes
of the superstructure of society.

inertia
An
appreciation of the fact of
human
which change is possible in sociey, but it should caution us against identifying this change with the equivalent "progress" of human life at a fundamental level.
must not lead us
to understate the extent to
THE HERITAGE OF THE HUMAN CONDITION

We
3
of "progress" because
have seen that optimism misleads us with respect to the possibilities it tends to underestimate the difficulty and to overp.
"The Choice of Comrades," Voices of Dissent (New York, 1958),
325.
358
estimate the consequences of historic change. But
ROBERT
it
L.
HEILBRONER
that short-
compounds
coming with a second and perhaps even more important failure. This is its lack of realism as to our starting point in the making of history. It is its failure to confront truthfully and unflinchingly the condition of the human
being as
it
now
exists.
views that condition in a favorable light. The very assumption that the growth of technical skill, political equality, or economic well-being will automatically lead to "progress" rather than to increased destructiveness, heightened social disorder, or vulgar opulence already
tacitly
Optimism
takes for granted an environment in which rationality, self-control, and
paramount social attributes. But this is hardly the impression one gets from an examination of the panorama of human existence. If there is such a thing as an average human being, he is to be found among the majority of mankind which lives in the continents of the East and South. The chasm which divides the average life on these continents from our own is so wide that we can barely imagine existence on the other side. To be an Indian viUager, a Chinese peasant, an African mine-worker is to be in a human condition whose dark and narrow confines cannot be penetrated by a Western mind. But life on our side of the chasm is also very far from presenting a heartening vista. In the United States, for example, preventable disease and even deformity are still widespread. Mental aberration identifiably touches a tenth of the population. Criminality, in various social forms from murder to tax evasion, is prevalent among all classes. The urban environment in which life is mainly lived is crowded, often unspeakably ugly, and in its spreading slums, vicious. The average education is barely adedignity are
quate to allow the population to cope with the technological complexities

of the age, and insufficient to allow
numbers of
famifies
all but a few do not know or care how
to understand them.
Large
to raise their children, as
witness the epidemic incidence of juvenile disorders.
The
many,
list
if
could be extended without

all
difficulty.
fife, is
But what characterizes
not
of these degradations of
that they are unnecessary.
them could be vastly alleviated by a sustained and wholehearted Yet such an effort as to whose immense "value" all would agree seems impossible to undertake. Indeed, the very suggestion that these areas of need should carry an absolutely overriding priority, taking precedence over any and all more "profitable" activities, smacks of a suspicious radicalism. We are simply not concerned, beyond a mild lip-service, with mounting an all-out effort to raise the level of national health or civic virtue, or mass living conditions or average education or upbringing. Looking at some of the institutions we nourish and defend, it would not be difficult to maintain that our society is an immense stamping press for the careless production of under-developed and malformed human beings, and that, whatever it may claim to be, it is not a society fundamentally concerned with moral issues, with serious purposes, or with human dignity.
Most
of
effort.
The Limits
of Determinism
359
The point, however, is not to berate ourselves for our obvious failure to produce anything like a "good society." The point is rather that, with all its glaring and inexcusable failures, the United States is still probably the most favored and favorable place on earth for a child to be born and
to
grow up. These melancholy
facts
must assume
their rightful place in
tion of the prospects for "social progress."
For
in such a social
the forces of history do not lead automatically in optimism assumes. In an atmosphere of neglect and of indifference to
any evaluaatmosphere the direction which
human
capabilities,
it is
not at
all
surprising that technology should result
and the stultification of work. It is certainly not remarkable that, in the harsh and primitive setting of underdevelopment, popular political aspirations press toward extreme and violent "solutions" to the problems of underdevelopment; nor that, in the more advanced societies, they mold society in the image of the mediocrity of mind and
in the trivialization of life
sentiment they represent. Nor, given the prevalence of physical poverty in
backward nations and of psychological poverty in all nations, is the pre-eminence of materialistic drives and goals to be wondered at. In sum, today as in the past, the half-educated, half-emancipated state of human
the
society assures that there will be a long continuation of the violence, the
instability, the blatant injustice,
the
its
human
is
tragedy. This
is
the true heritage of the
which are the most grievous aspects of human condition, and

this
is
bitter legacy.
What
perhaps the most sorrowful aspect of
tragedy
is
that
its
victims are chosen arbitrarily and at random. There
no
guilt
or iimo-
cence, no measure of culpability or responsibility in the fate
a world which
is still
more brute than man. Those who
fall in
meted out by wars do not
"start" the wars.
The
victims of Hitler or Stalin were not those
who
raised
these dictators to power.
Nor
will there
be a
fine balancing of accounts
when the crimes of South Africa eventually exact their terrible retribution, or when the indignities of the American South work their fuU damage to the
social fabric. In a world in which conscious morality can be regarded with derision, and reason with suspicion, this random toll of social tragedy cannot be avoided. It is the consequence of a situation in
American
which, as Albert
Camus
writes in
The
Fall:
"We
cannot assert the innoall."
cence of anyone, whereas
we can
state
with certainty the guilt of
To
raise these
dark thoughts
is
not to sermonize that
man
is
"wicked"
or to avoid the conclusion that some

others. Neither
is
it
men
are
is
much more
is
guilty than
to maintain that there
no hope
for a betterment
of the
human
condition.
On
the contrary, there
today a greater long-
term prospect for such betterment than humanity has ever known before. But the heritage of the past is too deep to be overcome in a matter of a few generations. It will be a long while until the human condition has been substantially improved. Not to face up to this fact with compassion and concern is only to cringe before reality. And while this should urge us
360
on with
all
ROBERT
the strength at our
L.
HEILBRONER
improve
command
to support every effort to
the condition of
man,
it
cannot but chasten us as to the reasonable ex-
pectations of the "progress" which that condition will permit.
THE AMBIGUITY OF EVENTS

In the very idea of progress, as
notion of goals.
we commonly
is
accept
it, is
contained the
We
strive for specific objectives, located ia the future,
and
imagine that each objective gained
a recognizable step toward "progress."
As
set
jective,
we find ourselves confounded when, having reached an obwhat we encounter is not the "progress" we anticipated but a new of problems stemming from the very advance itself.
a result
This disconcerting aspect of experience can be described as the ambiguity

of events.
quality
one
is
By
this
we mean
that every event in history has a Januslike
face which regards the past, and one which looks ahead; one
is
aspect which
the culmination of
what has gone before, and another

is
which
the point of departure for what
to follow.
Simplistic ideas of progress see only the near face of events
when
they
its
is
look to the future. Hence such views of the future typically underrate
complexities.
They do not consider
that the solution of one
problem
only the formulation of the next.

believing that progress
What an awareness
of the ambiguity of
is
events thus subtracts from the optimistic view of progress

is
the luxury of
a simple pyramiding of success.
The two-sided
nature of future events does not deny that our problems

portunities but
it
asserts with equal conviction that
may be our opour opportunities may
become our problems. There is no more dramatic example

history of that
of this than the impact on world most "unambiguous" of aU evidences of progress: the
development of modern medicine. It is not necessary to spell out the enormous benefits which medical science has brought to mankind. Yet no assessment of the over-all impact of modern medicine on our age can ignore the fact that it has also been the "cause" of an immense amount of
additional suffering in the world.
By
its
success in reducing the scourges of
mass disease and infant mortality, the "progress" of medical science has crowded the already overpopulated villages and cities of Asia and South America with still more mouths, and has thus aggravated the very human
suffering
it set out to relieve. Needless to say, not every instance of progress cancels
itself
out in so
direct
and
distressing a fashion as this.
The
point, rather, is that progress
does not merely consist in the surmounting of a previous problem, but inherently consists in the emergence of a new problem which, although
different,
example,
of
may be quite as grave as the old. In the course of this book, for we have seen such new problems emerging from the advance technology or from the achievement of abundance in our own society.
These new problems do not gainsay the advances which technology or economic growth bring us. But it may well be that the consequences of our
361
technological captivity, or the control problems of economic abundance

will
be
just as
cal inadequacy
humanly crushing as the problems of insufficiency or technifrom whose solution they emerged. There is no reason to
believe that the successive problems of "progress" pose easier challenges;
indeed
elusive,
it
is
probable that the overcoming of the "simpler" problems of
poverty and disease opens the doors on progressively more profound,
and insoluble human dilemmas. called this ambiguous aspect of progress the dialectic of history. Marx, however, brought his dialectical analysis to a halt with
Marx and Hegel
the achievement of
struggle. Ironically
communism
enough,
it is
as the "terminus" of the history of class
is no aspect of future which today more desperately needs dialectical clarification than goal. the achievement of the communist or for the West, the socialist
probable that there
history
It is clear that as
the "near side" of socialism approaches,

interest
is
it is
the "far
side"
which becomes of ever greater
and importance. To consider
socialism as a "goal" of social history
to fall prey to the optimistic
delusion that goals are milestones in history from which the next stage of
development promises
past.
to
be "easier" or unambiguously "better" than the

is
To
rid oneself of this comforting notion
not to lessen one's ardor

oneself realistically for
to resolve the difficulties of the present, but to
arm
the continuance of the
human
struggle in the future.
THE GRAND DYNAMIC OF HISTORY

then no possibiUty for progress? must by now be clear, much depends on what one means by the question. If by "progress" we mean a fundamental elevation in the human
Is there
As
it
estate, a noticeable
movement
it is
of society in the direction of the ideals of
Western humanism, a quaUtative as well as a quantitative betterment of

the condition of
man,
plain that
we must put away our
ideas of progress
over the foreseeable vista of the historic future. For whereas there is no question but that the forces of our time are bringing about momentous and
profound changes,
it is
only optimistic self-deception to anticipate, or even
to wish for, the near advent of a perceptibly "better" world as a result.
Taking into account the human condition as it now exists, the laggard slowness with which improvements in institutions are followed by improvements in "life," the blurred and ambiguous fashion in which history passes from problem to problem, it is certain enough that the tenor of world history will remain much as it is for a long while to come. Indeed, from the point of view of the West and especially of America, it may seeem to be deteriorating. As we have seen through the pages of this book, many of the tendencies of world history are likely to manifest themselves to us as a worsening of the outlook. We may well be tempted to interpret this growing intractabihty of the environment as the metamorphosis of progress into retrogression. Against this dark horizon it is hardly possible to cling to the sanguine
362
hopes and complacent expectations of the past.
gaze beyond the confines of our
every one of these changes
tion of
ROBERT
L.
HEILBRONER
lift
And
it
yet
if
we can
our
own
situation,
is
possible to see that
is essential and inescapable if the present condibe surpassed. Until the avoidable evils of society have been redressed, or at least made the target of the wholehearted effort of the organized human community, it is not only premature but presumptuous to talk of "the dignity of the individual." The ugly, obvious, and terrible wounds of mankind must be dressed and allowed to heal before we can begin to know the capacities, much less enlarge the vision, of the
humankind
is
to
human
race as a whole.
In the present state of world history the transformations which are
everywhere
at
work are performing
this
massive and crude surgery.
We
have dwelt
the
sufficiently in the
preceding pages on the violence and cruelty,
humanly deforming aspects of the changes about us. Now we must see on history it is the positive side of these great transformations which must be stressed. However unruly the revolution of
that in their ultimate impact
the underdeveloped nations, it is nonetheless the commencement of a movement away from the squalor and apathy which three-quarters of the human race still consider to be life. With all its disregard for Western standards of justice and liberty, the forced march of communism is nevertheless retreading the essential, but now forgotten path of early industrial
development of the West. Whatever its capacity for the destruction or the diminution of man, the perfection and application of industrial technology
is
withal the only possible escape from the historic indenture of man.
its
And
no matter what
capitalism
is
difficulties,
if
the painful evolution
beyond present-day
admmistration.
indispensable
those nations which have gained the benefits
of material wealth are
now
to
cope rationally with
its
our day be said to point in the direction of optimism and of progress. Only in our present situation, the West is no longer the spearhead of those forces, but their target. What is at bottom a movement of hope and well-being
historic forces of
Thus the blind and often brutal impact of the

still
can
for the inarticulate
the delicate and
now
and inadequate masses of mankind is a fearful threat to gravely exposed civilization of the articulate and ad-
vanced few.
No member of the Western community who loves its great achievements and who has enjoyed the inestimable value of its liberties and values can
confront this outlook of history without anguish.
feel the
Of
all
those
who
will
blows of the future, none will suffer more than the heirs of the long tradition of Western humanism, and none will more acutely feel the delays and the recession of "progress" as the world endures its protracted
ordeal.
More aware than

which which
ist spirits
the rising masses of the world of the destination to
their inchoate revolution
of the
will
may hopefully carry them, it is the humanWest who will feel most betrayed by the violence and excess likely accompany its course. Ever hopeful of the re-entry of the
363
communist nations into the Western community of thought, it is the Western intellectuals and idealists who will bear the fuU agony of watching for and waiting for signs of change which may be very long in coming. Alive to the immense potential benefits of the technical virtuosity of their age, it is again the guardians of the humanist tradition who will most despair
at
its
continued misapplication; just as
it
will
be they rather than the
masses
who
will
wish for a more responsible form of economic society and

continuance of the old order.
who
will chafe at the
This prospect of disappointment and delay

greater than the tragic events of history
fo Western thought
itself.
may
give rise to a tragedy
This would be the disillusion
and the abandonment of its hopes for and its distant would be the surrender of the very ideals of the West before the crushing advent of history, and the adoption of an indifference, or worse, a cynicism before the march of events. If this tragedy is to be avoided, the West will have need of two qualities: fortitude and understanding. It must come to see that because this is not
vision of progress. It
a time of fulfillment does not a time
mean
that
it is
a time of waste. It
is
rather
when
the
West must take upon
itself
new and more
difficult role
in history than in the past: not that of leading in the van of history's forces under the banner of progress, but that of preserving from the ruthless on-
slaught of history's forces the integrity of the very idea of progress

Particularly for
itself.
Americans will this long period of abeyance provide a test of the spirit. Accustomed by our historic training to expect a mastery over events which is no longer possible, we are apt to interpret the intransigence of history as a kind of personal betrayal rather than as a vast
and impersonal process of worldwide evolution. Thus there is the danger that we may abandon our optimism for a black and bitter pessimism, or for
a kind of "heroic" defiance.
But neither pessimism nor defiance, any more than optimism, will give we require. For this we need an attitude which accepts the outlook of the historic future without succumbing to false hopes or to an equally false despair; a point of view which sees in the juggernaut of history's forces both the means by which progress painfully made in the past may be trampled underfoot, and the means by which a broader and stronger base for progress in the future may be brought into
us the fortitude and understanding
being.
Such an
attitude
may
retain
its
kernel of optimism. But
more
is
needed
for the display of stoic fortitude than a residual faith in the idea of progress.
Above
all
there
is
required an understanding of the grand dynamic of
history's forces in preparing the
way
for eventual progress.
There
is
needed
a broad and compassionate comprehension of the history-shaking transformations
now
in mid-career, of their
construction, of the hope they
embody and
combined work of demolition and the price they will exact. Only
can come the strength to pass
spirit.
from such a sense of
historic understanding
through the gauntlet with an integrity of mind and
364
ROBERT
is
L.
HEILBRONER
just
What
tragically characteristic of
It is
our
lives
today
is
an absence of
such an understanding.
very
diflBcult
while America and the West
are at bay to feel a sense of positive identification with the forces that are
preparing the environment of the future. Less and less are
our
lives
meaningfully in the pageant of history.
we able to locate More and more do we
find ourselves retreating to the sanctuary of
an insulated individualism,
sealed off in our private concerns from the larger events which surround us.
Such an
through
historic disorientation
as well as public deprivation. In

this life for the
and disengagement is a terrible private an age which no longer waits patiently

it is a crushing spiritual mankind's journey, and to see
rewards of the next,
blow
to lose one's sense of participation in
only a huge milHng-around, a collective living-out of lives with no larger
purpose than the days which each accumulates.
When we
estrange ourselves
from history we do not We subtract from our
enlarge,
we
diminish ourselves, even as individuals.
lives one meaning which they do in fact possess, whether we recognize it or not. We cannot help living in history. We can only fail to be aware of it. If we are to meet, endure, and transcend the
and defeats of the future for trials and defeats there are certain to can only be from a point of view which, seeing the future as part of the sweep of history, enables us to establish our place in that immense procession in which is incorporated whatever hope humankind may have.
trials
be
it
D
Back to Religion
C. E.
M.
JOAD
Intellectual
The Plight of the
I use here the
word
"religion" in the sense which excludes the secular
religious sects I like to call the religion
or
religions
of Enlightenment.
Indeed, the return to religion
is
for us primarily, though not wholly, a
return to Christianity. I should not claim that the
way
traced by the
is
English philosopher and publicist C. E.
M. load (1891-1953)
and
his
typical.
But load was an Enlightened

ity is
intellectual,
way
to belief in Christian-
here put with disarming sincerity.
Reason and Faith
THE FOLLOWING BOOK

have converted
version.
intellect.
IS
AN ACCOUNT OF SOME OF THE REASONS WHICH

view of the universe in
its
me
to the religious
Christian
They
are predominantly arguments designed to appeal to the
The
intellectual
approach to religion
I
is
out of fashion today and in this

in this
introductory chapter
want
to explain
faith
why
book
There are many to
whom
comes
it
easily.
These
is
justify their beUefs since, for
them, justification
have adopted it. no impulse to unnecessary. That God

I
feel
created the world and sent His Son into

that the
at a certain point of time are to
them patent truths which it never occurs to them to doubt. I do not think number of such persons is as great as it was, at least among educated
people;
life
I,
at
any
rate,
am
not one of them. Until comparatively late in
my
the deUverances of reason no less than the weight of the evidence
to me to tell heavily against the religious view of the universe, and unsupported by reason seemed to me to be no more than a pious propensity to believe in propositions which there was no reason to think
seemed
faith
true.
While I admit that intellect cannot go all the way, there no believing which the intellect cannot, so far as its writ runs, defend and justify. I must, as a matter of psychological compulsion, adopt the most rational hypothesis, the most rational being that which From C. E. M. Joad, The Recovery of Belief: A Restatement of Christian PhiIt
seems so
still.
can, for me, be
losophy (London: Faber and Faber Limited, 1952), pp. 13-27.
366
The

facts
367
and
to offer the
seems to cover most of the
of our experience as a whole.
The hypothesis
so.
in question
most plausible explanation is that which is
known
as the religious view of the world,
and the following pages are de-
signed to explain
why
I find
it
Belief
and Will
There has been much discussion in my time of the part played by the Men have spoken of "the wUl to believe," a phrase popularised by William James. But, divorced from reason, the dictates of the will have no authority and carry no conviction. One might just as well will to believe X as will to believe Y. The fact that one does believe X is, on this view, evidence of nothing but the fact that one wills to believe X. The willing of the belief has, then, no bearing upon the truth of that which the
will in belief.
beUef asserts. Certainly

the belief
beliefs.
If,
is
it
does not constitute evidence for supposing that
true. Will, in short, neither creates
nor destroys the truth of

try to indicate the part
I will to
in deference to current fashion, I
were to
I
played by will in respect of

the hypothesis in
my own beUefs,
should say that
believe
whose support the most reasons
quantitatively
and the
most cogent reasons qualitatively can be adduced. If to believe because you want to do so constitutes no evidence in favour of religion, to believe in spite of the fact that you would prefer not to do so constitutes no evidence against it. So far from my own religious belief being the result of what the psychologists call wishful thinking. I am disposed to doubt whether, if my wishes had their way, I should to-day be trying to practise Christianity. For while it is true that my intellect is in the main convinced, my wishes protest. For ^what I suppose Christianity would call "the natural man"
the belief that
life
in this world derives
its
explanation in the last resort
from another cannot but increase the difficulty of Uving it. Suppose for a moment that you think that the Christian view of earthly existence as a course of training in moral discipline is correct; then you cannot help but try to act as if you were at school. If the purpose of your existence is not to win personal happiness but to improve your character, much that you would have light-heartedly done on the former assumption will be forbidden to you on the latter. And though, no doubt, it is a bad thing always to be taking one's moral temperature, one is nevertheless constantly driven to put to oneself the questions: "Ought I to have acted as I did?" "Ought I not to resist this desire which I take to be a temptation?" "Could I not behave better than I am now doing?" Now for most of my life I have cheerfully subscribed to Bentham's maxim that if the word "ought" means anything at all it ought to be excluded from the dictionary. Thus
the adoption of the Christian view of the world has not, to put
it
mildly,
and ease of living. On the contrary, it has compUcated the problem of conduct by adding to the task of securing happiness the task of conforming to moral obligation.
made
for greater simplicity
368
C.E.M. JOAD
The Disappointments
I
of Christianity
do not mean that "duty" has now taken the place of "happiness" as the motive and the test of conduct. Rather the two run in double harness as first one and then the other takes the bit and directs the course. I say "first one and then the other," but truthfulness compels the confession that nine times out of ten it is to obtain happiness rather than to do my duty that I
aim. Christianity, as
since, for
it,
true happiness
have been taught, insists that this is a false opposition, is to be found only in conformity to the dictates
of moral obligation. Bradley's Ethical Studies
losophy,
it is
my
business to expound
five better lives
is
which,
as a teacher of phitruth. I
teaches the
I I
same
testify
do not
doubt that those who

experienced
fact, the
its
than
do can
from
their
own
experience that this truth
indeed true.
truth myself. I
am
can only say that I have not disappointed that this should be so. In
a series of disappoint-
whole endeavour to
falters,
five the Christian life is

is
ments. Faith
prayer
intermittent, the consolations of religion
seem few and doubtful, the sense of disillusion is at times keen. I hoped to become a better person; I do, indeed, at times try. But on the whole, except
in so far as the effort, the usually unsuccessful effort, itself has merit, I
must confess that I do not often succeed. (And yet sometimes I think there is a difference. I am told by Christianity that if I pray to God for His help and try to live so as to deserve it, it will be granted. There have been times when I have believed myself to ex. . .
perience the truth of this assertion.)
do not love God, or I love Him but little even on the rare occasions I happen to think of Him; I do not love my neighbour as myself, and emphatically I do not do unto others as I would be done by. My character, therefore, is little improved; the main change is in the ever-increasing consciousness of its need for improvement. Yet while Christianity has made little change in my life, my conviction of its truth grows stronger. If it is not wishful thinking, if it is not the dictate of an arbitrary will to believe that has brought me to Christianity, I see no alternative to the conclusion that the main impulsion is from the intellect. It is because, as I said above, the religious view of the universe seems to me to cover more of the facts of experience than any other that I have been gradually led to embrace
I
when
it.
Action and Belief
And
this
approach
is,
after all, in line with that traditionally
adopted
by Christian thinkers, more particularly in the philosophia perennis which has some claim to be regarded as the philosophical background of the Christian creed. Christians are no doubt required to practise the precepts laid down by Christ and enjoined by the Church, but belief cannot affect
conduct, unless the belief has an intellectual content, for action always pre-
supposes an attitude of mind from which
it
springs,
an attitude which, ex-
The
369
plicit
it
when
the action
is first
embarked upon,
is
unconscious by the time
has become an habitual and well-established course of conduct.
When
by impUcation that it possesses those characteristics which make my conduct appropriate. So, too, with my action in regard to God, which implies some sort of knowledge of Him and His relation to the familiar world and to myself as a creature living in that world. If I cannot find good grounds for my beliefs, I shall certainly not persuade myself to act in conformity with them; thus, if I do
act in a certain
manner towards anything,
I recognise
not accept the attribution of personaUty to

inducing myself to act towards
God
shall not
succeed in
were a Person; that is, I shall love Him, or to pray to Him. Thought, in other not seek to know and to words, precedes action in the reUgious as in other spheres, and the practical significance of the precepts of religion is not separable from the theoretical content from which they derive. It is, then, because my intellect is on the whole convinced that I make such shift as I can to live conformably with
as
if
Him
He
its dictates.
have
tried to indicate the relation
between the
intellect, faith, will
desire as they co-operate to produce reUgious belief act conformably with

it.
and and the endeavour to

must, at least
If I
am
right, intellectual conviction
for educated people,
come
first.
Hence
the chapters that follow are con-
cerned to indicate the grounds for that conviction and to remove some of the obstacles which in the contemporary world miUtate against it. I propose
to try to argue that the religious hypothesis
is
the one that covers
more
of
the facts of experience than any other,
among which must be
included both
the fact of the desire to believe and the fact of moral conflict.
Due
weight
must,
I suggest,
be given to the significance of both these

Qualifications
facts.
is
it
Having proceeded so far, I am constrained to realise that my position by no means so simple as the foregoing statement suggests. To make accurate and to make it acceptable even to myself I must introduce three
First, I
qualifications.
have been taught by psychology that the concept of the person-
ality as
a bundle of faculties, reason and emotion, instinct, desire, will and

is
untenable. There are, I am told, no such separate faculties; all one into another, by imperceptible gradations. Hence to oppose the intellect to will or to intuition, as if they could be separated in fact even if they may be distinguishable in thought, entails a false dichotomy.
so forth,
shade
off,
it is nevertheless the case that some distinction of faculmust be assumed for purposes of. discussion the nature of my experience when, parched with thirst, I crave for water, being clearly different in kind from the sort of experience that I have when I am doing a sum in my head or trying to solve a chess problem, and it would be, to say the least of it, inconvenient to have no words at my disposal to indicate the fact of this difference, so that I could speak of "desire" in the first instance and
Secondly, since
ties
370
of "reason" in the second
I
C.E.M,
JOAD
am
I propose to say a word on the sense in which going to use the words "reason" and "intellect." This is broadly the
sense in which Plato in
The Republic conceives

fast distinction
the
first,
the reasoning,
"part" of the soul.
There
is
in Plato
no hard and
is
between reason and desire
regarded as psychological faculties.

"parts" of the soul
On
I
the contrary, each of his three

specific
informed by
its
own
dynamism.
is
I apologise
for the vagueness of this word;
what
have in mind
that element of pas-
sional striving for which psychologists use the term "conation." For this element of "conation" no separate provision is made in the Platonic psychology. Rather each "part" of the soul is infused with its own conation,
which expresses
between "parts"
three "parts"
is
itself in
the desires and determines the pattern of the
characteristic life of that "part."

is
Hence, the distinction which Plato draws
referable not to different faculties but to the different
kinds of object upon which the characteristic "appetition" of each of the

fixed.
Thus, the
first
"part" of the soul

its
is
not
is
intellect; it is
the soul or personality as a whole, insofar as

the ends appropriate to the intellect; that
is
appetition
centred upon
to say,
upon knowledge. Plato
known and that in the knowledge of the "real" what we call the intellect is transcended so that it is the whole personality, albeit a personality transfigured by the nature of its quest, that knows the Forms. It is in this sense, the sense of an aspect of our personalities informed by the desire to pursue and to know certain kinds of "object" and to "make after" certain kinds of end, that I wish to use the words "intellect" and "reason." Thirdly, I am far from wishing to suggest that reason covers all the ground. Much, probably most, of the universe must, I think, remain unknown by the reasons of human beings, at any rate in their present bodily
adds that only the perfectly "real" can be perfectly
condition. In particular, as I shall argue later, the nature of the spiritual world and, more particularly, the nature of its relation to and intercourse with the familiar order of physical things moving about in space and changing in time must remain unknown by reason. Not only can we not wholly understand or we understand only formally without realising what it is that we understand what it means to say that God is a transcendent being, but we cannot understand by what method or by what mode of entry. He enters from time to time into relation with the natural order of events which science studies, interrupting them with a series of mighty acts. Intellect, then, can light up only a small area of the universe. For my part, I should subscribe to the familiar paradox that the more we know, the more we are conscious of our ignorance; the further the distance the intellect has
travelled, the smaller
it
seems
relatively to the distance

Intellect
still
to
be
travelled.
Claims for the

I wish, then, to
put the claims of the intellect no higher than the
fol-
lowing: (1)
The
intellect does, indeed, take us part of the
way; (2) we
The

in taking us as far as
this, I
it
371
does,
faith
have no other mode of conveyance; and (3)

it
justifies
in.
us in taking the rest on trust.

If,
And
suppose,
is
where
comes
so far as your reason takes you, the rehgious view of the
universe seems to afford the most plausible explanation of your experience, then
it
seems not unreasonable to follow

it
this
same view beyond
the
point at which
leaves reason behind. If
it
accounts for the things you
know and can

that
it
understand, then it seems to me not unreasonable to hold could also offer an explanation of the things that you do not know and cannot understand always, of course, provided that it is not positively at variance with the findings of any aspect of your experience and does not
positively contradict the conclusions of reason in regard to the things that
you do beUeve yourself
to
know.
Now
at
in following the religious account of the universe

it
beyond the point
an explanation of the many things that pass our understanding, we are accepting on faith conclusions which are not demonstrated by reason. In other words, we are acting as if a hypothesis were true which, at the moment at which we act
which
leaves reason behind,
and
trusting to
it
as
upon it, is still a hypothesis and not a truth. Nevertheless, it is, I suggest, knowledge, the knowledge which we possess already and which reason has won for us, that makes it reasonable to do so. This, in brief, is my own position. I have what I like to believe is a reasonable assurance in regard to the truth of the religious view of the universe, an assurance which, however, never hardens to the point of absolute conviction. I could wish that
it
did.
The
Plight of
Contemporary
wish to think
Intellectuals
comes and equipment living in the middle of the twentieth century. We have been taught to take nothing on trust; to bring everything for judgment to the bar of the intellect. Hence faith, which must be taken on trust, and which gives little or no account of itself at the bar of the intellect, runs counter to our trainperhaps because I I think with a quite special degree of difficulty to persons of
that a belief in religion
my
training
ing and habits; faith, in a word,

faith of
is
hard for
us, while the simple unreflecting
uneducated persons is impossible. But that is only to say that we have the habits and the outlook proper to educated men in all ages who have been trained to rely upon their intellects. If this were all, it would be no great matter, but there is more to it than that. We are the inheritors of a century of religious doubt. This doubt was never so widely spread or so deeply ingrained. In the circles in which I have moved consisting mainly of left wing and left centre politicians, journaHsts, writers, artists and dons,
a comparatively rare thing to find an educated man who is also a Chrisnot merely that only one in ten of the population in contemporary Britain has any continuing connection with any church. More to the point
it is
tian. It is
is
the fact that the ten per cent includes a very high proportion of elderly
persons, particularly of elderly and comparatively uneducated
women.
372
C.E.M.
JOAD
Among my own
half a
acquaintances I do not think that I number more than dozen who are believing Christians. I could, I know, name weU over a hundred who are not. In sum, the findings of the contemporary intellect
heavily against religion. Moreover, the climate of the time
so hostile that
is
tell
it,
hostile to
many
take
it
for granted that religion does not deserve
serious consideration
and the
traditional religious explanation
both of the
is
universe at large and of particular occurrences within the universe

jected out of hand.
re-
To
take a particular example, where
might
cite
a hundred, consider the
implications of the words I have italicised in the following quotation from
an address by Professor D.
S.
M. Watson,
delivered to fellow biologists at

scientists,
Cape Town
not because
in
it
December 1943: "Evolution has been accepted by
has been observed to occur or proved by logical coherent

is
evidence to be true, but because the only alternative, special creation,

clearly unacceptable."
too,
of
I
have grown up in this climate and inherit these findings. For most I have been not only an agnostic but a vocal and militant agnostic. have had all the arguments against the religious hypothesis at my intelI,
my life
lectual fingertips,
and was ready and apt
in their use for the discomfiture of
Christian apologists.^
The
habits of a lifetime cannot quickly
be outgrown,
and although,
considerations
as I have said, I
tells
now
believe that the balance of reasoned
heavily in favour of the religious, even of the Christian

it is
view of the world,
still
in terms of balance
and
plausibility that
my
still
thought proceeds. Where
would
testify to certain conviction, I
must
speak in terms of plausible hypothesis; when I would rely on the support and enjoy the comfort of a firm faith, I must still confess to moments of disbelief, days of doubt and periods of absolute indifference. Moreover, the
questioning intellect will not keep quiet. Constantly, continually,
ceives fresh grounds for doubt
it
per-
and poses new, unanswerable questions. ... let me here make my one sacrifice to the gods of my past by citing a few examples as evidence of the sort of difficulties with which I must
I will give
contend.
one example of each kind.

Questions and Doubts
First, as to questions.
At
the
moment
of writing there
is
a great pother
about the announcement of a new dogma by the

the
Roman
Catholic Church,
body Mary. Clergymen of the Church of England complain of another and, as it seems to them, so gratuitous a spoke placed by the Roman Catholics in the wheel of the reunion of the Christian Churches. Nevertheless, they (and I) affirm, in common with all other members of the Anglican Communion, our belief in the Resurrection of the Body. Sunday after Sunday as we do so, I (but not they) wonder what all the
of the physical resurrection and present existence in the
of the Virgin
^
dogma
Many
of these
have
set
out at length in the early chapters of
my God
and
Evil.
The
fuss

is
373
we complain so bitterly of the dogma that the Virgin's body exists new and is resurrected at the very moment that we are professing as an article of faith in regard to all human beings who would normally be called dead,
about. For why, I want to know, do
announcement of this
Catholic
either that their bodies exist
come
into existence in order that they
now, or that they will sooner or later again may be resurrected? Is the element
of time so important? Granted that

tion of the
Body, does
it
so
much
we accept the miracle of the Resurrecmatter from the point of view of dogma
when
its
Resurrection occurs?
The Pain
Secondly, as to doubts.
I
of
Animals
and
evil; in fact, it
was
this
was for years baffled by the problem of pain problem that for years denied belief in the Chrisanswer, or at least so
tian religion.
Now,
I think I see the
much
of the
answer as will suffice to justify me in taking the rest on trust. God did not wish to create a race of virtuous automata, for of what merit is the virtue, if virtue it can be called, of those who have no choice but to desire, to wiU and to act as they do? Of what value, then, to be praised or loved by such as these? And what joy or merit can there be in loving them in return, even if it were possible to do so? Hence God created beings possessed of free will in order that they might be in a postion to acquire merit by acting
righdy
the
them to act wrongly, with the result that would be increased of virtue and also of love, since those who acquired virtue by their own efforts as a result of their resistance to temptation and their endurance of suffermg would be worthy objects of God's love. Now if they are to be free to choose wrongly, it will follow that some wrong choices will almost certainly be made. The evil in the universe is the consequence of wrong choices or, alternatively, we may say that evil must already be present in the universe in order that it may be chosen. Pain, which is an evU, is also a consequence of wrong choices. Pain, thus comes into the world because men do evil. So far, so good. The argument is difficult and abstract, but it holds together. Then comes the doubt. What of the pain of the animal kingdom before man appeared upon the scene? There has been life upon the planet,
it
when
was possible
for
amount of
virtue in the universe
according to the biologists, for something like a thousand million years; human life for about a million. During the whole of that vast preliminary
period,
if the record of the rocks is to be believed, nature was red in tooth and claw. Animals were preying one upon another, going in fear of one another, dying of cold, dying of hunger and wounds. Impossible to believe that they did not suffer; impossible, at least for me, to believe that physical suffering is not evil. Yet this suffering of the animals cannot be explained by the formula to which I have just had resort; it cannot, that is to say, be attributed to the wrong choices of human beings, for human beings did not as yet exist. What, then, are we to say, if we are not to say that God foresaw, permitted and perhaps ordained it? But that, I feel, cannot be. The
374
problem, then
familiar
C.E.M.
JOAD
and
it is
one of many
it
way
of dealing with
Williams and suggested by C. S. as a result of which the whole of life
me unresolved. The most adopted N. Lewis a cosmic "Fall"

is
for
it
is
in the writings of
P,
is
to postulate
is
infected with sin. I find this doctrine
hard to credit on common sense grounds, apart from the fact that it seems to me to have the effect, not so much of solving the problem of the evil of animal pain, as of putting back in point of time the problem of the origin of such evil. Nor are such other solutions as I am acquainted with
in the least convincing.
More Immediate
Difficulties
Thirdly, my mind is assailed with more immediate diflS.culties arising from the acceptance of the Christian religion. For example, there is the danger to mankind from science or, more precisely, from man's use in war of the results of scientific research. Wars have always occurred in the past and will presumably occur again unless and of this there is no sign mankind adopts a system of world government with a monopoly of force which makes war impossible, or unless human nature itself changes. At
the time of writing, short of such a system or short of such a change, it seems highly probable that the "cold war" between the U.S.S.R. and the West will become open warfare, so soon as the U.S.S.R. has a sufficient supply of A- and/or H-bombs to enable the Soviet Government to wage
war with what it takes to be a reasonable chance of success. If the war occurs soon and ends in a decisive victory for one
vestiges of civilisation
is
side,
some
might survive
it,
but
if it is
long delayed, so rapid
the rate of scientific invention
and advance,
that the complete destruction
of civilisation and reversion to primitive barbarism seem likely, especially

if,
when war comes,
it is
prolonged and indecisive.
The End of Human Life

There
warfare,
drifting
is
a further possibility.
Famine due
radio-active sprays, pestilence resulting
to the destruction of crops by from the practice of bacteriological
may
cause the disappearance of
human
life.
Radio-active clouds,
I
round the planet, may disintegrate Uving tissue everywhere. not say that these things are certain or even probable; they are at
possible.
do
least
What
is
the bearing of these possibilities
the possible destruction of the
perhaps even intend
it?
on religion? Does God foresee human race? Can He prevent it? Does He There is much in Christian literature which might
seem to countenance such an eventuality. There are, for example, the talk of Armageddon, the Apocalyptic writings of the Book of Revelation, the
persistent belief of the early Christians in the rapidly approaching end of the world and the second coming of Christ though early Christian writings always speak of these events as if they were to be brought about by the
direct intervention of
God; not
as
if
they were to be permitted to occur as
the result of the unchecked wickedness of
man.
The
375
that ours
is
Let us suppose for a

the universe
moment
life like
the only planet anywhere in
on which
our
own
exists.
The question then
arises,
can
God
permit
this creature,
man,
whom He
has sent into the world in
virtue in the universe
may increase the amount of and of objects worthy of God's love can He, one wonders, permit man to come to so lamentable an end and to destroy himself through misuse of that very gift of intelligence with which God has
order that, according to the Christian view, he
endowed him? Can God,
in other words, permit
His experiment to
fail?
And
if
not, will
He once
again intervene with one of His mighty acts to

to self-destruction?
arrest the drift of
mankind
May
there perhaps be a
Second Coming? Certainly the stage seems
set for
it.
Yet how
it
difficult,
how
ally
almost impossible for a modern intellectual to believe in
as
an actu-
impending
historical event.
Birth Control and the Population Problem
comes another with its attendant most probable causes of war is the pressure of everincreasing populations upon the world's diminishing food suppHes. Throughout most of recorded history the human population of the earth has stood at approximately five hundred millions. Fifty years ago it was just under two thousand millions. In 1950 it was two thousand three hundred millions, and by the end of the century it will be three thousand millions. At the
Hard on
the heels of this question

of the
difficulties.
One
moment
it is
increasing at the rate of over sixty thousand a day. Thereafter

is, once again, the main factor in the improved hygiene, has diminished plague, diminished
the rate of increase, short of the adoption of birth control over most of
the globe, must be very rapid. Science

situation. Science has
maternal mortality, diminished infant mortality, so much so that, while a hundred years ago the average age at death of the population of this country
was under thirty, today it and lengthen human life has

it
is
over
sixty.
This new-won ability to protect
still
to be used
on behalf of the majority of

is
the world's population. Thus, while the death rate in England
ten per
thousand, in India
the
is
nearly thirty per thousand.
We may
look, then,
short of birth control, for a far
more rapid
increase of the
numbers of
is
human
race in the future.

it is
Further,
science or, rather, the misuse of science's gifts which

It is
re-
ducing the world's potential food supply.
not merely that ever-increas-
ing areas of food-producing land are taken for industrial purposes, for
spreading suburbs, roads, factories and aerodromes; more to the point

the fact that science has enabled
is
man to farm in such
way
as to impoverish
the soil and render
it
unfit for further
obvious need
is,
then, in the circumstances in
food cultivation. Civilisation's most which we find ourselves, the

having interfered with
need to control the
size of the population. Science,
the laws governing death, should also, one would have supposed, be per-
mitted to interfere with the laws governing birth, and a world population
policy prescribing for each nation
its
optimum population
is
in the light of
the available and prospective food supplies
both dictated by the de-
376
liverances of reason
C.E.M.
JOAD
and demanded by the counsels of prudence. Yet the Churches in general look with disfavour on birth control by artificial methods, and the Roman Catholic Church in particular officially condemns the use of contraceptives on the ground that it is contrary to the teaching of Christ and the will of God. For who, they ask, is man that he should frustrate the life that God intended and prevent the coming into existence of another immortal soul? Here, then, is a situation in which it would appear prima facie that the Roman Catholic Church^ is deUberately fostering a policy which will tend to promote the destruction of mankind, by positively encouraging the steps which are calculated to make it more likely and by impeding and forbidding
make it less likely. Can God, one wonders, wUl that his creatures should deliberately compass their own destruction through the agency of his Church? Again, I do not know the answer to this question. I mention the matter only because it affords one more example of the conflict between reason and would-be
the measures which will
faith
by which the contemporary intellect add that my own intellect is not immune.
2 1
is
beset. It
is
scarcely necessary to
wrapped
hesitate to speak of the official attitude of the Anglican in its all too famiUar obscurity.
Church, which
is
A. R.
ORAGE
Life as Gymnastics
This
little
extract
may
not seem to belong here;
its
author
is
not urging a
return to any organized religion, nor at least on the surface, acceptance of
a new one. Yet one of the main functions of a religion, the cure of souls,, clearly does not always come off well among the Enlightened. A. R. Orage (18731934), a very clever Englishman who impressed many Americans
during his stays here in the 1920' s, sets out to provide a surrogate
eral of
them
or
sev-
for the consoling, counseling labor of the priest or minister.

I.
In particular, he advanced the ideas of a certain G.
Gurdjieff,
who
achieved "psychosynthesis" by means of sacred dances, movements (not quite gymnastics) that tuned the soul to the universe. On the whole, 1 have
in this anthology avoided including the "lunatic fringe."
We
must, however,
have
at least
a mild sample,
first,
because the lunatic fringe
exists, is
perhaps
more numerous
because there
is
in times like ours than in
more serene
times,
and second,
and
respectability.
always a movement from these fringes into establishment The trouble is to pick the particular lunacy that is going
to graduate into the fellowship of sober
men. Anyway, here
is
the lively
Mr. Orage, minus,
I regret, the dances.
WE INDICATE THE IMPORTANCE OF approached it in the wrong attitude" "his attitude was all wrong" "you'll have to change your attitude if you want to get on" "a proper attitude" and so on. What do we mean by attitude? We mean the general state of mind of the person relatively to the object; or, rather, his emotional state in regard to it. If he feels suspicious of it, his attitude is one of suspicion. If he feels fear, affection, trust, hope, his attitude corresponds. Whatever the emotion evoked by the object, the attitude is determined by it. Can we change our attitude towards things? Obviously our attitude can
IN A
THOUSAND AND ONE PHRASES
"right attitude." "I
be changed for us by circumstances. In regard to most objects and persons
From A. R. Orage, The Active Mind: Adventures Hermitage House, 1954), pp. 115-119.
in
Awareness (New York:

377
378
A.R.
ORAGE
our attitudes, in fact, change almost from day to day. One day we like soand-so very much and are disposed, in consequence, to act thus and thus; but next day, owing to some change in him or in circumstances affecting ourselves, our attitude has changed, and we are cool where we were warm. Observation of ourselves will easily show how infinitely changeable we are
in
our
attitudes, that is to say, in

is:
the question
tion,
Can we change our
our emotional responses to things. But attitude voluntarily at our own discre-
could do
without the stimulus of a change in the object? For clearly, if we that, we should be on the way to becoming masters of our fate,
we are affectable. If I can adopt any attitude I choose that is, have any emotion I like then anything whatever that happens is all the same to me. I can feel about it as I please. Such self-mastery is, of course, far beyond most of us; but there is no doubt that we do and can begin to attain it. For instance, when we find an attitude vis-a-vis some situation or person too painful to continue, we try to change the object, and, failing that, we change our state in regard to it. The fable of the fox and the grapes is applicable here. Having tried in vain to obtain the grapes, the fox persuaded itself that the grapes were sour. By
since circumstances can affect us only as
imagining the grapes to be sour, the fox induced a different emotion, or

tude in
itself. It
atti-
no longer felt about the grapes as it had felt before. The practical conclusion to be drawn is that imagination is the means by which our attitude can be controlled. Our emotions are evoked by our imagination; and to the extent that our imagination is under our control, our emotions
and
attitudes are also.
It is clear that
the dominant attitude of our lives
is
our attitude or emo-
tional response towards life itself. This colors everything.
As we commonly say, some see everything "through rose-colored glasses"; others have a "gloomy outlook" on life; others again have a serious or happy-go-lucky
or a religious or a sporting attitude.
As many
people, so
many
attitudes;
though
can be reduced to a definite number of groups. And in every case their dominant attitude is decisive of every subordinate attitude. For instance, if your characteristic attitude towards life is gloomy, even your occasional moods of cheerfulness will be affected; they will in all probability be both intense and brief. Or if your dominant attitude is gay and reckless, your moments of depression may be profound but not lasting. Practically aU preaching, whether reUgious or secular, and all teaching, whether institutional or personal, has for its real object the inducement of a changed
all
attitude towards
life.
Equally, most of the
modern systems
of therapy, in-
cluding Christian Science and Psychoanalysis, aim consciously or uncon-
about a change of heart (or attitude) in their pupils So all-important has it been found in its effects upon the organism as a whole, that practically every method aiming at betterment must begin with correcting the attitude towards life. Attitude, we have seen, is conditioned by imagination. What you imagine
sciously, at bringing
and
patients.
a thing to be, you needs must feel

lying in the path to be a snake,
it
to be. If
will feel
you
you imagine a coiled rope and act accordingly. When
Life as Gymnastics
379
different
you discover your mistake, and have a

emotional attitude will change.
view of the rope, your
What
certain
is
our imagination of
It
coiled rope or a snake?
we
what life is; but in and it is only commonsense to imagine it to be something useful to us. All religious and similar systems aim, in short, at inducing in us a useful attitude towards Hfe; an attitude, that is, in which we can act freely and usefully as regards our own ends or somebody else's. Some rehgions and systems, for instance, try to induce an attitude of submission towards life, with the design of making use of us for their own advantage. Others aim at evoking an active or creative attitude towards life in but very few
please;
life? What do we take it to be? Is it for us a may prove in the end impossible to know for that case, we are free to imagine it to be what
us with the object of enlisting our voluntary co-operation. And all alike proceed by a common method, namely, by changing our imagination of life.
can name a few typical Ufe-pictures, each, be it remembered, drawn to evoke its proper emotions, attitude and consequent conduct. There is the "Puritan" picture which represents life as a hard and narrow school. This evokes the attitude of the nervous schoolboy in the constant presence of the stem dominie. There is the "Pagan" picture of life as an orgy of Greek gods inviting men to drink and feast with them. There is the "Seri-
We
which imagines "God" to be struggling against almost helpless odds for the redemption of matter. The emotion or attitude evoked is one of "helping poor father." There is the "Scientific" view that sees life as an orderly insignificance, all dressed up with nowhere to go. There is the "Aesthetic" view in which life is an artist making and exhibiting works of
ous" view of
life
art,
with
man
as the appreciative witness.
as has
been
said, to
And so on; each being designed, evoke an attitude or emotional response useful to some-
body or
It
other, either to the preachers or to their congregations.
that each view in turn is useful; but there can be little doubt most of us, in the present epoch, the image of life as a gymnasium is a greatly needed tonic. Compare the difference in your attitude (emotional response) on entering a gymnasium and on entering, let us say, a cabaret, or a Y.M.C.A. lecture hall or a house of mourning. Try to realize what and how you actually feel. You are braced up, you have the intention provided you of strengthening yourself, you delight in the difficulties choose them yourself. In short, you feel at your strongest and getting
may be
that for
stronger.
Greek conception of life was just that; and everybody knows gymnasium was the most popular institution of Pythagorean Greece. What is not so well known is that the gymnasium was for the Greeks a symbol of life itself. Their God ran this planet as a gymnasium for the
The
classic
that the
exercise of men,
and
all
experiences were to be taken as movements, turns,
stretches, exercises in wrestling, running, lifting,
find
what the ancient Greeks found
in this
and so on. Modems will image of life the evocation of
a creative emotion.
It is difficult to see in
what other direction we modems can look for a new
380
image and therefore attitude towards
life.
A.R.
ORAGE
We have no
longer the possibility
of religion in the traditional sense. Ordinary goodness in the sense of doing what others call good has no intelligent appeal. And, after the still
recent Great War, the belief in world progress is superstition. But the clean, strong idea of life as a field of exercise for the development of all our muscles physical, emotional and intellectual has still the unspoiled qual-
ity of
manly and womanly
idealism.
And
life
lived in that attitude
would
certainly be interesting as well as profitable.
CLARENCE
H.
FAUST
The Search for Answers
Clarence H. Faust (1901-
),
President of the
Fund
for the
Advance-
ment of Education established by the Ford Foundation, examines in this thoughtful essay, one most congruous with the aims of this anthology, the relation between contemporary psychology and psychiatry on one hand
and
"religion"
on the
other.
THE MODERN WORLD. AT LEAST him he should feel surer about himself and than his ancestors did. For as this survey of modern knowledge vividly
MAN OUGHT TO FEEL MORE AT HOME
IN
surer about the world around
indicates,
we understand
ourselves and the processes of the universe today
much
that
better than ever before,
and we have vastly extended our
ability
to adapt the forces of the universe to our
about our increasing dozens of areas we can control of nature. But certainly it is true that in now defeat, direct, control, or harness natural forces that our ancestors
overstate the facts
talk
we sometimes
own when we
purposes.
It
may
well be
could only view in helpless awe or terror.

fident about ourselves
Zion of our own making, not at all conand our place in the world. If anything, we are more troubled about these matters than were our ancestors. Day by day we seem to become less certain of our ability to make firm distinctions between what is right and what is wrong, less sure of the meaning and purpose of human life and of society, less assured about the place of humanity in the scheme
Yet we are not
at ease in this
of things;
as
we
are
more
hesitant about defining our role as individuals or
blame to human actions, and about what our responsibilities to ourselves and others may be. We do understand the processes of nature better, but we are less sure
members
of society, about assigning praise and
that
we understand
the
sum
total of their significance.
We know
infinitely
more about how
around us, but are inclined to regard these forces as morally neutral. Although we find ourselves capable
to manipulate the forces
From Lyman Bryson, ed., An Outline of Man's Knowledge (New York: McGraw-Hill Book Co., 1960), pp. 66^-611.
of the
Modern Worla
381
382
of unlocking the sources of atomic energy,
incredible
CLARENCE
H.
FAUST
we
are fearfully aware that this
new power may become
the instrument of race suicide, and none
is deeply certain that the brave talk about harnessing these new powers for productive purposes in the satisfaction of human needs is more
of us
than unrealistic idealism or desperate wishful thinking.

This uncertainty
a religious faith.
afflicts
most of us today, including many who adhere
to
We
it is
are often reminded that a larger proportion of our
population belongs to some church body

history.
now
than ever before in American
And
yet,
certainly true that though millions of people today

faith as did
rely as happily
on a church-centered
is
anyone
in the
Middle
Ages, church members are not exempt from the peculiar uncertainties and
anxieties of our time. It
typical of our age that magazines (including reli-
gious pubUcations), books, and broadcasting programs regularly present

"individual approaches" and "philosophies" that are
fications or interpretations of
no more than modiorthodox creeds. The point of view taken

to those
here grows out of the concern

It is implicit in this
common
who
are religiously inchned.
discussion that the solution of the problems which have
their roots in these concerns
must come,
fulfill
in part at least,
from
religious
leaders
who
is,
are prepared to
the function they have fulfilled in the
past; that
who
will
of our
new
scientific
develop a synthesis of our new knowledge, especially knowledge, in relation to the persistent problems and
But such a solution is by no means inevitable, for it cannot be taken for granted that the necessary relationships and cross
troubles of mankind.
interpretations of science, philosophy,
and theology
for Values
will actually take place.
Man's Search
We
of
in
all
seem now more than ever before to be trying to discover the source principles of what ought to be and all forces that promote the good
affairs,
human
simply in individual
human
desires or ideals, or in social
decisions.
This attempt to individualize our values is evident in what seems to be a key word, perhaps the key word, of modem ethics, namely, responsibiUty.
give a good citizen is to describe him as a highly one of the most effective ways of attacking an aspirant for high pubHc office is to suggest that he is irresponsible. Yet the word responsibility has for us an almost purely social or individual reference. The terms in which we define responsibility reflect what is either socially desirable or in accordance with individual conscience. And yet it is obvious that we are troubled about the validity of these terms of reference. We praise and reward a social sense of responsibility, but at the same time we are concerned about the pressures to conformism which this interpretation of responsibility would seem to justify and increase. We admire the independent man, the man of firm perpendicularity, but are worried that what passes for individual conscience and conscientiousness may after all be merely the product of social conditioning.
The
highest praise
we can
responsible person.
And
The Search
for
Answers
is
383
further illustrated in the difficulty our educa-
This same uncertainty

tional institutions
have in dealing with what we have come to call "values." The term values is at best ambiguous, for it can mean either that which is in itself truly valuable or that which has merely come to be valued. All of our terms of ultimate reference "the public good" with respect to society, for example, and "maturity" or "adjustment to society" with respect to the individual have the same unsatisfactory ultimate point of reference. Our means of dealing with the problems of ethics, with values, with responsibility seem all to have the same in short, with what ought to be
unhappy lack
tific
of reach, to fall short of anything
preference. Applying the
beyond individual or most admirable modern refinements of the
social
scien-
method
to these problems,
we
achieve descriptive but not normative

are less and less
conclusions.
We know
more and more about what makes people think

a good society.
and
If
act as they
sure about the
do and about how society operates, but we way we ought to behave and what makes
amenable
we assume
that these matters are not
to scientific investigation
but must depend upon some right posture of the emotions, upon some
undefined "maturity" which cannot be rationally analyzed or justified but
we have no way of discriminaand worse in human propensities. The feeUngs of the individual may be shaped by characteristics peculiar to him alone or may be merely culturally conditioned. It is well and good to be able to describe social aims, ideals, and commitments as products of historical processes; but that does not make it any the less difficult to justify them as in any sense right in themselves. It is for these reasons that modern man, though he knows much more about the universe in which he lives and can mold it much more fully to his purposes, still does not feel at home in it and restlessly alternates between dependence upon individual conscience, which he fears may be merely personal and irresponsible, and conformity to society, which he fears may be no more than the product of historical accidents. Distressed and troubled by all these uncertainties, he at last has to seek some security the force which within society is exerted through the pressures in force of self-interested advertising and propaganda, and which in the international area depends upon the creation of more and more potent weapons. Security comes to mean power, the power to maintain our status and to pursue our individual and social ends.
only appropriately appreciated or
felt,
then
ting ultimately
between what
is
better
The Need
for Guiding Principles
ethics,
There can be no satisfactory or fundamental solution to the problem of no assurance about the real nature of good and evil, no confidence
this
of ultimate success in the search for answers concerning the significance of
man's career on
self
planet and the nature of his responsibilities to him-
or to his society without a sense of the direction of the universe apart

desires
from man's
and choices.
384
CLARENCE
then needs to establish
is
H.
FAUST
What our age

ically
sacrifices,
a sense of direction, not dogmatfirm commitments and even

in accord with the constitu-
but with sufficient confidence to
make
is
some sense
that the path laid out
and processes of the universe. It is easier to specify the conditions which must be met in a search for answers than to state the answers or even to point out the line of inquiry to be pursued. The conditions themselves are simple. What we need are some conceptions of the universe which hold out hope of a relationship between the human and the nonhuman, some conception which makes man feel at home in his world not necessarily at ease in it or with himself but clearly and confidently aware of his successes and failures, or, to use older words, of his virtues and vices. The kind of answer required in the search we are describing must contain the word "ought." The question is, what direction or directions ought the individual and society take? To satisfy this need, the answer must be more than a description of individual desires or wants or of social purposes and commitments. It is this requirement which makes the contemporary term "values" unsatisfactory, for it does not necessarily transcend human wishes and often merely denotes quahties which for some reason condition
tioning, social pressure, or historical accident

It is
have come
demands
to
be valued.
for this reason that the search for ethical direction involves the
is
idea of sacrifice. That which
in itself valuable (over

it
and above being

of right
merely valued) has the characteristic that

that
in cases of conflict
we
override what merely happens to be valued.
The course
action involves the willingness to give

is,
up
desires in favor of the good, that
in favor of what is valuable in itself; and right action requires the will do so when the two are in conflict. In such circumstances sacrifice, or the readiness to sacrifice, becomes a mark of virtue. This is not to say that suffering or pain is itself a good thing or is in itself virtuous. It is a recognition of the fact that it may be painful to give up a desire because of a compeUing sense of a purpose rooted in the nature of things, beyond man's wishes and wants.
to
It is
here that
modem man
finds himself so
much
at a loss.
The admi-
rably effective and productive methods
fail
aspects of the nature of things, him; not because they are inadequate for their primary purpose, but because they do not reveal the basis of ethical choice. They do enable him
some
by which he is able to lay hold of the methods of the natural sciences,
to predict the sequences in the processes of things. They do provide him with the means of injecting himself into these processes so that he can
direct them to satisfy his own desires and wants. But they do not tell him what direction he or a society ought to take. In nothing is this more evident than in the triumph of science in releasing atomic energy. The methods which unlocked those secrets provided a knowledge of natural processes and immense capacity for production or destruction. But they have given us no guide to the basic problems of war or peace.
We
are at last driven to look inward for guides, to search our
own
feel-
The Search
for
Answers
But here our
difficulty is that
385
ings for direction.
human
beings are patently
moved by
confficting forces, that they exhibit aggressive as well as affec-
tionate tendencies.
And,
as
we have
said,
we
find reasons to suppose or to
fear that our feelings are either the result of peculiarly individual characteristics
or are socially conditioned. Since
uncertainties, the distinctions

set apart
we are conscious of many we do make between right and wrong are

by being called
from purely
factual or descriptive propositions
"preference statements" or "emotive language."
The term "preference"
reveals with even less ambiguity than the term "values" the limitations of
our search for answers which would make it possible to discriminate clearly between what we prefer and what is really valuable which would, in other words, put a moral demand upon us.
Religion, Natural
Law, and
the Universe
universe which gave his

life
In times past religion provided a conception of man's relation to the life meaning or taught him how to order his
in order to
make
it
meaningful. In one
way or
another, religion has
human purposes and and the scheme of the universe. By devices which in their primitive form seem naive, religion has asserted the possibility of establishing a harmonious connection between human intentions and behavior and the universal course of things. If all that exists is under the firm and universal direction of a being who can be called "Father" or "King," there is hope that man's enterprises may be related to, judged, and given at least
always attempted to establish a relationship between
aspirations
long-range assurance of success so long as they are compatible with the
nonhuman
nature and processes of the world. But the growing emphasis on the authority and reliability of the physical and social sciences has made it increasingly difficult for many modern people to accept or to use
these terms with any conviction.
In the eighteenth century the concept of natural law, "the law of nature and of nature's god," served the same purpose as reUgion once did. The conception grew out of or implied the idea that the constitution and course of aU things could appropriately be regarded as under laws which were not of man's devising but were written in the nature of things. Such a conception consequently provided a reference point for the
action.
appraisal
of
human
cept
organizations, laws,
and courses of
But despite our
vastly
increased knowledge of the regularity of natural processes, even this conis no longer convincing to many modern men. The eighteenth century farm boy and the city dwellers alike were constantly reminded of the forces of nature^ the succession of the seasons, the processes of generation and growth, the frightful effects of disease. Since it was obvious that all of this was beyond human contrivance, the conception that it was the result of the operation of natural law was persuasive. But we now know that much that was once believed to be immutable in nature can be altered or controlled or directed by man. Modern technology daily performs more
386
astonishing miracles and daily
CLARENCE
H.
FAUST
makes us less dependent upon and more from the processes of nature. Today's children know milk only as a nourishing liquid that is delivered in cartons, and the hurried modern businessman spans the continent in a few hours, in an elaborately contrived machine, and is conveyed from plane to city in another shiny piece of artifice and deposited in an air-conditioned hotel room. It is hardly surprising that natural law is for many people today an archaic concept. Today we Uve not by nature but by technology. But there are tremendistant
dous,
if
not insurmountable,
difficulties
in establishing a
new
sense of
man's relatedness to the universe, as it is pictured by modern science. One difficulty is simply the overwhelming sense of its inmiensity. The astronomer's universe with its galaxies millions of light years away, each larger than our own but still an infinitesimal part of an expanding system, is hardly calculated to make the inhabitant of a small planet in a minor solar system feel at home in his world. Such a universe is almost beyond our comprehension. Yet the fundamental difficulty does not, I believe, depend on size alone. The man of the eighteenth century Uving in America on the eastern edge of an as yet unexplored continent also had ample, if less spectacular, reason to feel relatively insignfficant in the world he inhabited.
The
real difficulty in feeling at

it
home
in the universe, in developing a
and deriving therefrom convictions concerning what is in itself valuable and demanding beyond our immediate wants and wishes, is conceptual. The world of the modem physicist is conceptually utterly foreign to most of his contemporaries. Most of us, certainly, cannot conceive of a fourth dimension, or of particles with negative spin, and to all but a few the mathematical formulas of modem physics are as unintelligible as the markings on clay tablets made thousands of years ago by a people whose language has been utterly lost. So alien are these modem concepts that there are not even workable analogies to convey to us at least an inkling of what the universe is like and what it intends or at least where it is tending. We are benumbed by size and defeated by complexity.
sense of relationship to
The Relationship of Religion and Psychology
Human nature being what it is and its

be astonishing
if
there were not
conceptions of a possible
universe. Surely
needs being what they are, it would some groping beginnings and tentative new relation between modem man and his
we
in
are not quite as
much
at a loss as a
contemplation of
which man's older conceptions once stood would indicate. It is reasonable to suppose that somewhere in the burgeoning new sciences of our time and in the new techniques based upon them there are emerging fruitful new conceptions of man's relationship to the world around him and to processes not of his own making or willing. Though we cannot yet discern their outHnes, we can properly assume that the new conceptions must have some of the characteristics of the older
the
empty niches
The Search
ones.
for
Answers
lived clearly established values
387
and
The concepts by which we once
standards that existed quite apart from man's desires and choices.
They
pointed the direction for man's thoughts, feeUngs, and conduct and indicated the path which he could hope would bring
him
into
the nature of things. In short, they provided a basis for ethics which
harmony with was
beyond individual and social interests, a foundation deeper than individual and social desires for discriminating between virtue and vice. They put demands upon men. They specified the nature and ground of sacrifice, that is, they established both the reason and the compulsion to forego immediate emotional pressures. As a result they created for man an important kind of relatedness, and while they did not necessarily provide ease and comfort for him, they did make a man feel at home in his world as he might feel at home in a family which he sometimes found demanding and even irksome but in which his relationships and responsibilities were
clear.
If
we ask where
criteria
such
may
I think, that it is
modern man's thinking about himself and his world measure be satisfied, we are driven to the conclusion, most likely to be found in the area explored by psychology
in
in a
and psychiatry. Of this, there are many signs. Modem parents read Dr. Spock as Puritan parents conned the Scriptures or the Calvinistic interpretations of them. Not a few individuals in our society relate themselves to a psychiatrist as our forefathers related themselves to a priest or parson. There seems everywhere to be an increasing tendency to believe that many of the physical difficulties with which our medical men deal are ultimately best understood in terms of the psychological stresses of modern life, and that they can be treated most effectively by techniques which see mind and body as interrelated parts of the whole person. The comparison between the religions and psychological approaches can be carried further. The demonic in human life, which used to be associated with the presence of evil, supernatural beings such as devUs and witches, is now located in the realm in which psychology and psychiatry operate. We seem increasingly to suppose that there is an area beyond our immediate perception in the depths of the subconscious which in its functions has supplanted demonic hosts. Freud, Dr. Erik Erikson observes, has "unearthed mankind's daimonic inner world." Psychology and psychiatry are also being called upon to establish a new foundation and new conceptions of virtue and vice. Moreover, there appears to be an increasing tendency to look for salvation in this area. Thomas Mann wrote prophetically when in The Magic Mountain he described the lecture of Dr. Krokowski at the sanitarium at Davos:
It
seemed that at the end of his lecture Dr. Krokowski was making propaganda for psychoanalysis: with open arms he summoned all and sundry to come unto him. "Come unto me," he was saying, though not in those words, "Come unto me, all ye who are weary and heavy laden." And he left no doubt of his conviction that all those present were weary and heavy laden. He spoke of secret
388
suifering, of
CLARENCE
H.
FAUST
He shame and sorrow, of the redeeming power advocated the bringing of light into the unconscious mind and explained how the abnormality was metamorphosed into the conscious emotion; he urged them to have confidence; he promised rehef.
of the analytic.
between this new approach to the fundamental and the answers once suppUed by rehgion is evidenced by the increasing interest which it arouses in churches and churchmen. In this coimection the report of a conference sponsored by the Group for the Advancement of Psychiatry on "Some Considerations of Early Attempts in Cooperation Between Religion and Psychiatry" is most illuminatmg. The
The
close relationship
life
questions of
participants at the meeting,
which was held
in 1957, included Protestant,
Much was made on both sides of the fundamental differences between religion and psychiatry and between the problems of pastoral service and psychiatric pracCatholic, and Jewish theologians, as well as psychiatrists.
tice.
One
of the participants took the position that "Religion gives a

is
way
or at
of
life;
psychiatry
a branch of medicine which,
it
would appear from
observation and reading, has been accepted by

least as a
some
as a
way
of
life,
Weltanschauung, and this in spite of the disavowal by Freud of the possibility." Another, however, outlined a religious role for psychiatry:
The education and spiritual development of man was entirely in the hands of the Church in the early part of European civilization, and the clergy was,
therefore, in a central position. In the centuries following the Reformation,
became increasingly a matter of education. Humanistic ideas of development superseded the older religious ideas. With the decline of religion and humanism at the turn of the century, the psychiatrist has moved into a unique position. He is now the recognized, scientifically trained expert on personality development and is expected to fulfill all functions previously
personality development
divided among clergymen, educators, parents, and other agencies. If we now attempt to reestablish a relationship between psychiatry and rehgion, it must be recognized that long-range planning is necessary. At this moment of history, many patients cannot accept what religion has to offer. These individuals consider the psychiatrist to be the only firm reliance in the ocean of emotional
currents. Therefore, the present role of the psychiatrist seems to be to
it
make
possible for the patient to interact with his social
and
cultural environment.
What
psychiatry presents to
modern man
is
in effect something quite
apart from man's conscious desires and choices. It proposes an insight into
the direction of things which exist outside of conscious impulses and wishes
an
duct
insight
which seems
to hold out the prospect of
good and
evil in
human
feelings, thoughts,
becoming a guide to and conduct. In this sense, the
processes of psychiatry do resemble the processes of religion.

to reveal to distressed
They promise
and confused people what

in
their feelings or their con-
mean
in the light of the nature of things, or rather the substratum of
things, in the
human mind and
human
association.
And
like religion,
psychiatry frequently insists
upon the
critical
importance of helping the
individual himself to uncover and understand the hidden sources of be-
havior and feeling.
The Search
for
Answers
389
There are indeed many similarities between religion and psychiatry. But there are also differences and difficulties, for despite the bridges which are being thrown across the chasm between psychiatry and religion, there are still serious obstacles to communication between the two. Some psychiatrists say that man cannot get on without religion, but such statements seem to many religious leaders to make the unacceptable assumption that any religion will serve the purpose as well as another. Furthermore, the Freudian theory that religion is based largely on the Oedipus complex seems to be a destructive misconception of religion as it is conceived by most religious people. There are many such areas of difference. As Victor von Weizsacker has pointed out in reporting his discussions with Freud about the conflicts of psychoanalysis and religion, "One can no longer evade the question whether psychoanalysis has substituted for religion." Such substitution shocks many thoughtful religious people. Jacques Maritain, in his essay on Freudianism and Psychoanalysis A Thomist View, takes care to distinguish between the method of psychoanalysis, Freudian psychology, and Freudian philosophy, and he sharply states his opinion:
... on the first plane [psychoanalytic method], Freud shows himself to be an investigator of genius. On the third plane [Freudian philosophy], he seems almost like a man obsessed. On the second plane [Freudian psychology], he appears to be an admirably penetrating psychologist, whose ideas, inspired by his astonishing instinct for discovery, are spoiled by a radical empiricism and an erroneous metaphysics that is unaware of itself.
In short, though he acknowledges certain therapeutic values in psychiatry,
Maritain rejects
not moral faults.
to health."
It
its
religious
that psychotherapy attempts to

Its
end
is
and moral implications: "The phenomena modify are pathological phenomena and not to render people virtuous, but to restore them
which
would be bold
to the point of foolhardiness to predict the course
the relationships of psychiatry and religion will take: whether differences
be sharpened and battle lines fixed; whether different territories will, by Maritain, be assigned to each; or whether reformulations on both sides will estabUsh a productive peace. Much depends everything, perhaps on whether there will emerge a creative intellectual leadership which is capable of opening generally acceptable ways of dealing with the problem. There are reasons to expect that under such leadership fundamental concepts on both sides might be brought into a productive working relationship. For one thing, the growth of religious tolerance, which in America, at least, has been essential to peaceful coexistence of various religions in a united but pluralistic society, has tended to estabUsh and
will
as suggested
make
acceptable the view that there
is
some
truth in every religious position
and an element of universality in each. Furthermore, the resolution of the conflicts between science and religion which troubled the nineteenth century, especiaUy after the rise of Darwinism, has left as a legacy the opinion that science does not necessarily threaten religious beliefs. There are,
390
indeed, in our
CLARENCE
H.
FAUST
the reconciliation of religion and psychology.

original
some encouraging examples of The great task of our most theologian and metaphysician, Jonathan Edwards, was the reinearlier religious history
own
terpretation during the eighteenth century of Calvinistic theology in terms
of the powerful
new
psychological concepts of John Locke, a reinter-
pretation which proceeded to the point where the process of salvation and
even the idea of the Trinity were reformulated in psychological terms. In the final analysis, the success of efforts to find the terms in which man may have some sense of being at home in his universe depends upon
power of any new religious leadership which power will be revealed by the depth of its insight into the implications of modern science, including psychology and psychiatry. Its spiritual power must rest upon the development of a view which is not merely contrived to meet the human need and desire for man's understanding of himself in relation to the world, but which also reflects the force of inescapable demands made by the universe on man. The faith, the
the intellectual and spiritual
may
arise. Its intellectual
hope, the ethical criteria of religion require the recognition that inescapable
demands are imposed upon man and society, rather than being merely generated by men's problems and desires. In this sense the search for answers in this time of burgeoning scientific knowledge must be a religious search, and its products must have something of the force of revelation. The search for such answers will, of course, inevitably go on. No matter
may become, men will be restless can form a satisfactory picture of themselves in the kind of universe which science has revealed. The search will be a long, hard task, as long and hard as were those in the days when religion and philosophy
impressive our scientific knowledge
until they
how
No
provided a rationale for the evaluation of individual and social behavior. task could be more vital to the welfare of mankind. The most urgent
problem of the twentieth century is whether man today can discover and accept the demands which his conception of the universe puts upon him the necessity to find his own place and society's place in the scheme of things before he destroys himself by the abuse of the powers which science
has given him.
ALAN
W.
WATTS
Doing Nothing"
"Sitting Quietly,
Alan W. Watts (1915

a faith
) is
studies, author of a very successful
a way
interest in the
How
far
of life, a religion West especially since war brought the East so much closer. any Oriental faith can get beyond intellectual faddist circles in
I shouldn't dare
an American scholar specializing in Asian popular exposition of Zen Buddhism, which has continued to arouse increasing
our West
pronounce. I should guess Zen Buddhism has

it is
not yet got very far beyond such circles. But

lunatic fringe. Like
Taoism
an
old, tried,
it is no mere product of a and successful religion in its
Oriental homeland.
IN
BOTH LIFE AND ART THE CULTURES OF THE FAR EAST APPRECIATE
is is
nothing more highly than spontaneity or naturalness (tzu-jan). This

the unmistakable tone of sincerity marking the action which
not studied
and contrived. For a man rings like a cracked bell when he thinks and one part standing aside to interfere with the other, acts with a split mind to control, to condemn, or to admire. But the mind, or the true nature, of man cannot actually be split. According to a Zemin poem, it is
Like a sword that cuts, but cannot cut itself; Like an eye that sees, but cannot see itself.
The
illusion of the split comes from the mind's attempt to be both itself and its idea of itself, from a fatal confusion of fact with symbol. To make an end of the illusion, the mind must stop trying to act upon itself, upon its stream of experiences, from the standpoint of the idea of itself which
we
call the ego.
This
is
expressed in another
doing nothing.
Zemin poem
itself.
as
Sitting quietly,
Spring comes, and the grass grows by
This "by
as
itself" is the
mind's and the world's natural
way
of action,
when
the eyes see by themselves,
From Alan W. Watts, The Way of 134-153. Also available in Mentor Books, pp. 133-143, 145-150.
and the ears hear by themselves, and Zen (New York: Pantheon Books, 1957), pp.
391
392
the
ALAN W. WATTS
mouth opens by
itself
without having to be forced apart by the fingers.
As
the
Zemin
says again:
The blue mountains are of themselves blue mountains; The white clouds are of themselves white clouds.
In
its
its
stress upon naturalness, Zen is obviously the inheritor of Taoism, and view of spontaneous action as "marvelous activity" (miao-yung) is
precisely
what the Taoists meant by the word
te
"virtue" with an overit
tone of magical power. But neither in Taoism nor in Zen does
have any-
thing to do with magic in the merely sensational sense of performing super-
human
action
"miracles."
is,
The "magical" or "marvelous" quality of spontaneous on the contrary, that it is perfectly human, and yet shows no sign
is
of being contrived.
Such a quality
peculiarly subtle
(another meaning of miao), and

story
is
extremely hard to put into words.
The
told of a
Zen monk who
wept upon hearing of the death of a close relative. When one of his fellow students objected that it was most unseemly for a monk to show such personal attachment he replied, "Don't be stupid! I'm weeping because I want to weep." The great Hakuin was deeply disturbed in his early study of Zen when he came across the story of the master Yen-t'ou, who was said to have screamed at the top of his voice when murdered by a robber. Yet this doubt was dissolved at the moment of his satori, and in Zen circles his own death is felt to have been especially admirable for its display of human emotion. On the other hand, the abbot Kwaisen and his monks allowed themselves to be burned alive by the soldiers of Oda Nobunaga, sitting calmly in the posture of meditation. Such contradictory "naturalness" seems most mysterious, but perhaps the clue lies in the
saying of Yiin-men: "In walking, just walk. In
the undivided
sitting, just sit.
is
Above
all,
don't wobble." For the essential quality of naturalness
the sincerity of
Yen-t'ou screamed,
around.
mind which does not dither between alternatives. So when it was such a scream that it was heard for miles
But it would be quite wrong to suppose that this natural sincerity comes about by observing such a platitude as "Whatsoever thy hand findeth to
do,
do
it
with
all
thy might."
When
Yen-t'ou screamed, he was not screamfirst
ing in order to be natural, nor did he

total contradiction in
is is
make up
his
mind
to
scream
is
and then implement the decision with the
full
energy of his wUl. There

sincerity.
planned naturalness and intentional mind." Thus to be natural is also an
This
to overlay, not to discover, the "original

try not to try to
try to
an affectation. To Zenrin poem says:
affectation.
be natural As a
You cannot get it by taking You cannot seek it by not

But
this
thought; taking thought.
absurdly complex and frustrating predicament arises from a
simple and elementary mistake in the use of the mind.
When
this
is
"Sitting Quietly,
Doing Nothing"
is
393
difficulty.
itself,
understood, there
no paradox and no
Obviously, the mistake
arises in the attempt to split the
mind
against
but to understand
this
clearly
we have
to enter
its
more deeply
into the "cybernetics" of the mind,
the basic pattern of

It is,
self-correcting action.
of course, part of the very genius of the

life
it
human mind
it,
that
it
can,
as
it
were, stand aside from
of
its
own
existence,
and
that
and can
reflect
upon
that
it
can be aware
criticize its
own
processes.
is
For the
a term
mind has something resembling a "feed-back" system. This
used in communications engineering for one of the basic principles of "automation," of enabling machines to control themselves. Feed-back enables a
machine
to
be informed of the
its
effects of its
own
action in such a
way
is
as
to be able to correct
electrical thermostat
action.
Perhaps the most familiar example
the
which regulates the heating of a house. By setting an upper and a lower limit of desired temperature, a thermometer is so connected that it will switch the furnace on when the lower limit is reached, and off when the upper limit is reached. The temperature of the house is
thus kept within the desired limits.
with a kind of sensitive organ
The thermostat provides
the furnace
an extremely rudimentary analogy of
human
self-consciousness.^
The proper adjustment of a feed-back system is always a complex mechanical problem. For the original machine, say, the furnace, is adjusted by the feed-back system, but this system in turn needs adjustment. Therefore to make a mechanical system more and more automatic will require
the use of a series of feed-back systems
third to correct the second,
a second
to correct the
first,
and so on. But there are obvious limits to such a series, for beyond a certain point the mechanism wiU be "frustrated" by its own complexity. For example, it might take so long for the information to pass through the series of control systems that it would arrive
at the original
machine too
late to
be useful. Similarly, when
human
beings
think too carefully and minutely about an action to be taken, they cannot
make up
one cannot correct one's There must soon be a source of information at the end of the line which is the final authority. Failure to trust its authority will make it impossible to act, and the system wiU be
their
minds
in time to act. In other words,
means of
self-correction indefinitely.
paralyzed.
The system can be paralyzed tem needs a margin of "lag" or

solutely accurate
^ I
in yet another way.

error. If
Every feed-back
sys-
we
try to
make
a thermostat ab-
that
is, if
we
bring the upper and lower limits of tem-
to the point of saying that the
between the human mind and servo-mechanisms mind-body is "nothing but" an extremely complicated mechanical automaton. I only want to go so far as to show that feed-back involves some problems which are similar to the problems of self-consciousness and selfcontrol in man. Otherwise, mechanism and organism seem to me to be different in that is, in their actual functioning since the one is made and the other principle grown. The fact that one can translate some organic processes into mechanical terms^ no more implies that organism is mechanism than the translation of commerce into
do not wish
to press the analogy
arithmetical terms implies that
commerce
is
arithmetic.
394
a constant 70 degrees
ALAN W. WATTS
perature very close together in an attempt to hold the temperature at
the whole system will break down. For to the
extent that the upper and lower limits coincide, the signals for switching off
and switching on will coincide! If 70 degrees is both the lower and upper limit the "go" sign will also be the "stop" sign; "yes" will imply "no" and "no" will imply "yes." Whereupon the mechanism will start "trembhng," going on and off, on and off, until it shakes itself to pieces. The system is too sensitive and shows symptoms which are startlingly like human anxiety. For when a human being is so self-conscious, so self-controlled that he cannot let go of himself, he dithers or wobbles between opposites. This is precisely what is meant in Zen by going round and round on "the wheel of birth-and-death," for the Buddhist samsara is the prototype of
all
vicious circles.^
life
Now human
in the concrete
consists primarily
and
originally in action
in living
world of "suchness." But we have the power to control action by reflection, that is, by thinking, by comparing the actual world with
"reflections."
memories or
or less abstract images
words,
Memories are organized

signs, simplified shapes,
in
terms of more
which can be reviewed very rapidly one after reflections, and symbols the mind constructs its idea of itself. This corresponds to the thermostat the source of information about its own past action by which the system corrects itself. The mind-body must, of course, trust that information in order to act, for paralysis will soon result from trying to remember whether we have remembered everything accurately. But to keep up the supply of information in the memory, the mind-body must continue to act "on its own." It must not cling too closely to its own record. There must be a "lag" or distance between the source of information and the source of action. This does not mean that the source of action must hesitate before it accepts the information. It means that it must not identify itself with the source of information. We saw that when the furnace responds too closely to the thermostat, it cannot go ahead without also trying to stop, or stop without also trying to go ahead. This is just what happens to the human being, to the mind, when the desire for certainty and security prompts identification between the mind and its own image of itself. It cannot let go of itself. It feels that it should not do what it is doing, and that it should do what it is not doing. It feels that it should not be what it is, and be what it isn't. Furthermore, the effort to remain always "good" or "happy" is like trying to hold the thermostat to a constant 70 degrees by making the lower Umit the same as the upper. The identification of the mind with its own image is, therefore, paralyzing because the image is fixed it is past and finished. But it is a fixed image of oneself in motion! To cling to it is thus to be in constant contradiction
and other symbols another. From such memories,
tradictions
See the fascinating discussion of analogies between mechanical and logical conand the psychoneuroses by Gregory Bateson in Reusch and Bateson, Communication: the Social Matrix of Psychiatry, esp. Chap. 8. (Norton: New York,
^
1950.)
"Sitting Quietly,
Doing Nothing"
395
and
sit.
conflict.
Hence Yiin-men's
saying, "In walking, just walk. In sitting, just
mind cannot act without up the impossible attempt to control itself beyond a certain point. It must let go of itself both in the sense of trusting its own memory and reflection, and in the sense of acting spontaneously, on its own into the unknown. This is why Zen often seems to take the side of action as against reflection, and why it describes itself as "no-mind" (wu-hsin) or "no-thought" (wu-nien), and why the masters demonstrate Zen by giving instantaneous and unpremeditated answers to questions. When Yiin-men was asked for the ultimate secret of Buddhism, he replied, "Dumpling!" In the words of the Japanese master Takuan:
Above
all,
don't wobble." In other words, the
giving
When
he
is
the ultimate idea of Buddhism?" he may exclaim even before the questioner finishes his sentence, "A blossoming branch of the plum," or "The cypress-tree in the court-yard." The point is that the answering mind does not "stop" anywhere, but responds straightway without giving any thought
is
a monk asks, asked, "What
"What
is
the
Buddha?" the master may
raise his
fist;
when
to the felicity of
an answer.
to act
This
is
aUowing the mind

reflection
is
But
words,
also action,
on its own. and Yiin-men might
also
have
said,
"In
acting, just act. In thinking, just think.

if
Above
one is going to reflect, just reflect ^but do not reflect about reflecting. Yet Zen would agree that reflection about reflection is also action provided that in doing it we do just that, and do not tend to drift off into the infinite regression of trying always to stand above or outside the level upon which we are acting. Thus Zen is also a liberation from the
all,
don't wobble." In other
duaUsm
of thought and action, for
it
thinks as
it
acts
with
the
same
is
quality
of abandon, commitment, or faith.
The
attitude
of wu-hsin
is
means an
anti-intellectualist exclusion of thinking.
Wu-hsin
action
by no on any
and
level whatsoever, physical or psychic,
without trying at the same
moment
to observe
and check the action from outside. This attempt

is
to act
think about the action simultaneously
precisely the identification of the
mind with its idea of itself. It involves the same contradiction as the statement which states something about itself "This statement is false." The same is true of the relationship between feeling and action. For feehng blocks action, and blocks itself as a form of action, when it gets caught in this same tendency to observe or feel itself indefinitely as when,
in the midst of enjoying myself, I
examine myself to see
if
am
getting the
utmost out of the occasion. Not content with tasting the food, I am also trying to taste my tongue. Not content with feeling happy, I want to feel
myself feeling happy
so as to be sure not to miss anything.
Whether trusting our memories or trusting the mind to act on its own, it comes to the same thing: ultimately we must act and think, live and die, from a source beyond all "our" knowledge and control. But this source is ourselves, and when we see that, it no longer stands over against us as a
396
threatening object.
ALAN W. WATTS
No amount
mind
is
of care
trospection and searching of our motives, can

to the fact that the
and hesitancy, no amount of inmake any ultimate difference
Like an eye that
sees,
but cannot see
itself.
In the end, the only alternative to a shuddering paralysis

action regardless of the consequences. Action in this spirit
is
to leap into
right or
may be
wrong with respect to conventional standards. But our decisions upon the conventional level must be supported by the conviction that whatever we do, and whatever "happens" to us, is ultimately "right." In other words, we must enter into it without "second thought," without arriere-pensee of regret, hesitancy, doubt, or self-recrimination. Thus when Yun-men was asked, "What is the Tao?" he answered simply, "Walk on! (ch'U)." But to act "without second thought," without double-mindedness, is by no means a mere precept for our imitation. For we cannot reaUze this kind of action until it is clear beyond any shadow of doubt that it is actually impossible to do anything else. In the words of Huang-po:
Men are afraid to forget their own minds, fearing to fall through the void with nothing on to which they can cling. They do not know that the void is not really the void but the real realm of the Dharma. ... It cannot be looked for or sought, comprehended by wisdom or knowledge, explained in words, contacted materially (i.e., objectively) or reached by meritorious achievement.
Now
realized,
this impossibility of
"grasping the mind with the mind"
is,
when
the non-action
(wu-wei), the "sitting quietly, doing nothing"
whereby "spring comes, and the grass grows by itself." There is no necessity for the mind to try to let go of itself, or to try not to try. This introduces further artificiahties. Yet, as a matter of psychological strategy, there is no need for trying to avoid artificialities. In the doctrine of the Japanese master Bankei (1622-1693) the mind which cannot grasp itself is called the "Unborn" (fusho), the mind which does not arise or appear in the realm
of symbolic knowledge.
layman asked, "I appreciate very much your instruction about the Unborn, but by force of habit second thoughts [nien] keep tending to arise, and being confused by them it is difficult to be in perfect accord with the Unborn. How
am
to trust in
it
entirely?"
you make an attempt to stop the second thoughts which then the mind which does the stopping and the mind which is stopped become divided, and there is no occasion for peace of mind. So it is best for you simply to believe that originally there is no (possibility of control by) second thoughts. Yet because of karmic afl&nity, through what you see and what you hear these thoughts arise and vanish temporarily, but are without substance." "Brushing off thoughts which arise is just like washing off blood with blood. We remain impure because of being washed with blood, even when the blood that was first there has gone and if we continue in this way the impurity never departs. This is from ignorance of the mind's unborn, unvanishing, and unconfused nature. If we take second thought for an effective reality, we keep going on and on around the wheel of birth-and-death. You should realize that such
Bankei
said, "If
arise,
"Sitting Quietly,
Doing Nothing"
397
thought is just a temporary mental construction, and not try to hold or to reject it. Let it alone just as it occurs and just as it ceases. It is like an image reflected in a mirror. The mirror is clear and reflects anything which comes before it,
and yet no image sticks in the mirror. The Buddha mind (i.e., the real, unborn mind) is ten thousand times more clear than a mirror, and more inexpressibly marvelous. In its light all such thoughts vanish without trace. If you put your faith in this way of understanding, however strongly such thoughts may arise, they do no harm."
This
is
also the doctrine of
Huang-po, who says agam:
If it is held that there is something to be realized or attained apart from mind, and, thereupon, mind is used to seek it, (that implies) failure to understand that mind and the object of its search are one. Mind cannot be used to seek something from mind for, even after the passage of millions of kalpas, the day of success would never come.
One must
not forget the social context of Zen.
It is
primarily a
way
of
liberation for those
who have mastered
the disciplines of social convention,

is
of the conditioning of the individual the

ill
by the group. Zen
a medicine for
mental paralysis and anxiety which come from excessive self-consciousness. It must be seen against the background of societies regulated by the principles of Confucianism, with their heavy stress on propriety and punctiUous ritual. In Japan, too, it must be
effects of this conditioning, for the
seen in relation to the rigid schooling required in the training of the
samurai
caste,
and the emotional
strain to
which the samurai were exposed

it
in times of constant warfare.
As
a medicine for these conditions,
does
not seek to overthrow the conventions themselves, but, on the contrary,

is easily seen in such manifestations of Zen ceremony" of Japan. Therefore Zen might be a very dangerous medicine in a social context where convention is weak, or, at the other extreme, where there is a spirit of open revolt against convention ready to exploit Zen for destructive purposes. With this in mind, we can observe the freedom and naturalness of Zen
takes
them for granted
as
as the cha-no-yu or "tea
without loss of perspective. Social conditioning fosters the identification

of the
mind with
a fixed idea of itself as the
a result
image.
man
thinks of himself as "I"
center of gravity shifts
of self-control, and as Thereupon the mental from the spontaneous or original mind to the ego
means
the ego.
Once
this
has happened, the very center of our psychic
life
is
identified with
the self-controUing mechanism. It then
becomes almost
impossible to see
how
is
"I" can
let
go of "myself," for
am
precisely
my
habitual effort to hold on to myself, I find myself totally incapable of any
mental action which

anything
I
not intentional, affected, and insincere. Therefore
do
to give myself up, to let go, will
be a disguised form of the

to
habitual effort to hold on. I caimot be intentionally unintentional or pur-
posely spontaneous.
As soon
as
is
it
becomes important for me

I
taneous, the intention to be so

it is
strengthened;
cannot get rid of
it,
be sponand yet
if
the one thing that stands in the
way
of
its
own
fulfillment. It is as
398
someone had given me some medicine with
if I
ALAN W. WATTS
the warning that
it
will not
work
think of a
I
monkey while
taking
it.
am remembering to forget the monkey, I am in a "double-bind" where "to do" is "not to do," and vice versa. "Yes" implies "no," and "go" implies "stop." At this point Zen comes to me and asks, "If you cannot help remembering the monkey, are you doing it on purpose?" In other words, do I have an intention for being intentional, a purpose for being purposive? Suddenly I realize that my very intending is spontaneous, or that my controlling self the ego arises from my uncontrolled or natural self. At this moment all the machinations of the ego come to nought; it is annihilated in its own trap. I see that it is actually impossible not to be spontaneous. For what I cannot help doing I am doing spontaneously, but if I am at the same time trying to control it, I interpret it as a compulsion. As a Zen master said, "Nothing is left to you at this moment but to have a good laugh." In this moment the whole quality of consciousness is changed, and I feel myself in a new world in which, however, it is obvious that I have always been living. As soon as I recognize that my voluntary and purposeful action happens spontaneously "by itself," just like breathing, hearing, and feeling, I am no longer caught in the contradiction of trying to be spontaneous. There is no real contradiction, since "trying" is "spontaneity." Seeing this, the compulsive, blocked, and "tied-up" feeling vanishes. It is just as if I had been absorbed in a tug-of-war between my two hands, and had forgotten that both were mine. No block to spontaneity remains when the trying is seen to be needless. As we saw, the discovery that both the
While
situation
voluntary and involuntary aspects of the mind are alike spontaneous makes
an immediate end of the fixed dualism between the mind and the world, the the known. The new world in which I find myself has an extraordinary transparency or freedom from barriers, making it seem that I have somehow become the empty space in which everything is hap-
knower and
pening.
Zen does not make
the mistake of using the experience "all things are of
one Suchness" as the premise for an ethic of universal brotherhood. the contrary, Yiian-wu says:
If
On
you are a
real
man, you may by
all
means
drive off with the farmer's ox, or
grab the food from a starving man.
This
tions
is
only to say that Zen lies beyond the ethical standpoint, whose sancmust be found, not in reality itself, but in the mutual agreement of
beings.
human
When we
it
attempt to universalize or absolutize
it,
the ethical
standpoint makes
impossible to exist, for

of
we cannot
live for
a day with-
out destroying the

If
life
some other some
creature.
Zen
is
regarded as having the same function as a religion in the West,
we
shall naturally
want
to find
logical connection
experience and the improvement of
human
relations.
between its central But this is actually
"Sitting Quietly,
Doing Nothing"
399
putting the cart before the horse.
The point
is
rather that
some such exrelations.
perience or
way
of
life
as this
is
the object of improved
human
In
the culture of the Far East the problems of
human
relations are the sphere
Sung dynasty (959-1278) and was the main source of the introduction of its principles into Japan. It saw their importance for creating the type of cultural matrix in which Zen could flourish without coming into conflict with social order, because the Confucian ethic is admittedly human and relative, not divine and absolute. Although profoundly "inconsequential," the Zen experience has consequences in the sense that it may be applied in any direction, to any conceivable human activity, and that wherever it is so applied it lends an
of Confucianism rather than Zen, but since the
consistently fostered Confucianism
Zen has
unmistakable quality to the work. The characteristic notes of the spontaneous life are mo chih ch'u or "going ahead without hesitation," and wushih, lack of affectation or simplicity.
WhUe
since
it
the
Zen experience does not imply any

it
specific course of action,
has no purpose, no motivation,
turns unhesitatingly to anything

is
that presents itself to be done.
Mo
chih ch'u
the
mind functioning without
and much of Zen training consists in confronting the student with dilemmas which he is expected to handle without stopping to deliberate and "choose." The response to the situation must follow with the immediacy of sound issuing from the hands when they are clapped, or sparks from a flint when struck. The student unaccustomed to this type of response will at first be confused, but
blocks, without "wobbling" between alternatives,
as he gains faith in his "original" or spontaneous
mind he
will not
only
respond with ease, but the responses themselves wiU acquire a startling appropriateness. This is something like the professional comedian's gift of
unprepared wit which is equal to any situation. The master may begin a conversation with the student by asking a series of very ordinary questions about trivial matters, to which the student responds with perfect spontaneity. But suddenly he will say, "When the bathwater flows
down
the drain, does
it
turn clockwise or counter-clockwise?"
As
and perhaps remember which way it goes, the master shouts, "Don't think! " and whirls his hand in the air. Or, perhaps less helpfully, Act! This way he may say, "So far you've answered my questions quite naturally and easily, but where's your diBculty now?" The student, likewise, is free to challenge the master, and one can imagine that in the days when Zen training was less formal the members of Zen communities must have had enormous fun laying traps for each other. To some extent this type of relationship still exists, despite the great solemnity of the sanzen interview in which the koan is given and answered. The late Kozuki Roshi was entertaining two American monks at tea when he casually asked, "And what do you gentlemen know about Zen?" One of the monks flung his closed fan straight at the master's face. All in the
the student stops at the unexpectedness of the question,
tries to
400
same
instant the master inclined his
ALAN W. WATTS
head
slightly to
one
side,
the fan
shot straight through the paper shoji behind him, and he burst into a ripple
of laughter.
letter from the Zen master Takuan on the Zen to the art of fencing, and this is certainly the best literary source of what Zen means by mo chih ch'u, by "going straight ahead without stopping." Both Takuan and Bankei stressed the fact that the "original" or "unborn" mind is constantly working miracles even in the most ordinary person. Even though a tree has innumerable leaves, the mind takes them in all at once without being "stopped" by any one of them. Explaining this to a visiting monk, Bankei said, "To prove that your mind is the Buddha mind, notice how all that I say here goes into you without
Suzuki has translated a long
relationship of
missing a single thing, even though I don't try to push
it
into you."
When
heckled by an aggressive Nichiren

forward. "Closer
monk who
kept insisting that he couldn't
understand a word, Bankei asked him to come closer. The

still,"
monk
stepped
said Bankei.
The monk came forward
again.
"How
"you understand me!" In other words, our natural organism performs the most marvelously complex activities without the least hesitation or deliberation. Conscious thought is itself founded upon its whole system of spontaneous functioning, for which reason there is really no alternative to trusting oneself completely to its working. Onewell," said Bankei,
self is its
working.
not merely a cult of impulsive action.
Zen
is
The
point of
mo
chih ch'u
is
not to eliminate reflective thought but to eliminate "blocking" in both action and thought, so that the response of the mind is always like a ball in a
mountain stream "one thought after another without hesitation." There is something similar to this in the psychoanalytic practice of free association, employed as a technique to get rid of obstacles to the free flow of thought from the "unconscious." For there is a tendency to confuse "blocking"
a purely obstructive mechanism
difference
with
thinking out an answer, but the
between the two
is
easily noticed in
such a purely "thinking out"
process as adding a column of figures.
people find that at certain combinations of numbers, such as 8 and 5 or 7 and 6, a feeling of resistance
dis-
Many
comes up which halts the process. Because it is always annoying and concerting, one tends also to block at blocking, so that the state turns
into
the kind of wobbling dither characteristic of the snarled feedback system.
The
simplest cure
is
to feel free to block, so that

feels free to block, the
one does not block
at
blocking.
When
is
one
blocking automatically ehmin-
ates itself. It
like riding a bicycle.

fall
When
one
is
starts falling to the left,
one does not resist the turns the wheel to the

here
is,
left
and
(i.e.,
the block)
by turning
to the right.
One
the balance
restored.
The
principle
of course, the
same
as getting out of the contradiction of "trying to
be spontaneous" through accepting the "trying" as "spontaneous," through not resisting the block.
"Blocking"
is
perhaps the best translation of the Zen term nien as
it
"Sitting Quietly,
Doing Nothing"
meaning of "attachment"
401
occurs in the phrase wu-nien, "no-thought" or, better, "no second thought."
Takuan
It
points out that this
is
the real
in
Bud-
dhism, as
when it is said that a Buddha is free from worldly attachments. does not mean that he is a "stone Buddha" with no feelings, no emotions,
and no sensations of hunger or pain. It means that he does not block at anything. Thus it is typical of Zen that its style of action has the strongest feeling of commitment, of "follow-through." It enters into everything wholeheartedly and freely without having to keep an eye on itself. It does not confuse spirituality with thinking about God while one is peeling potatoes. Zen spirituality is just to peel the potatoes. In the words of Lin-chi:
time to get dressed, put on your clothes. When you must walk, then sit, then sit. Don't have a single thought in your mind You talk about being perfectly disciplined about seeking for Buddhahood. in your six senses and in all your actions, but in my view aU this is making karma. To seek the Buddha (nature) and to seek the Dharma is at once to make karma which leads to the hells. To seek (to be) Bodhisattvas is also making karma, and likewise studying the sutras and commentaries. Buddhas and Patriarchs are people without such artificialities. ... It is said everywhere that there is a Tao which must be cultivated and a Dharma which must be realized. What Dharma do you say must be realized, and what Tao cultivated? What do you lack in the way you are functioning right now? What will you
When
walk.
it's
When you must
add to where you are?
As
another
Zemin poem
says:
There's nothing equal to wearing clothes and eating food. Outside this there are neither Buddhas nor Patriarchs.
This
is
the quality of wu-shih, of naturalness without any contrivances or
means for being natural, such as thoughts of Zen, of the Tao, or of the Buddha. One does not exclude such thoughts; they simply fall away when seen to be unnecessary. "He does not linger where the Buddha is, and where there is no Buddha he passes right on."
For
as the Zenrin says again:
To be conscious of
Just this
is
the original mind, the original nature
flies
the great disease of

is
Zen!
As
"the fish swims in the water but
umnindful of the water, the bird
in the
wind but knows not of the wind," so the true life of Zen has no need to "raise waves when no wind is blowing," to drag in rehgion or spirituality as something over and above Ufe itself. This is why the sage Fa-yung received no more offerings of flowers from the birds after he had had his interview with the Fourth Patriarch, for his holiness no longer "stood out like a sore thumb." Of such a man the Zenrin says:
Entering the forest he moves not the grass; Entering the water he makes not a ripple.
No
one notices him because he does not notice hunself
402
It is
ALAN W. WATTS
often said that to be clinging to oneself
is
like
having a thorn in the
and that Buddhism is a second thorn to extract the first. When it is out, both thorns are thrown away. But in the moment when Buddhism, when philosophy or religion, becomes another way of clinging to oneself through and how is it to seeking a spiritual security, the two thorns become one be taken out? This, as Bankei said, is "wiping off blood with blood." Therefore in Zen there is neither self nor Buddha to which one can cling, no good to gain and no evil to be avoided, no thoughts to be eradicated and no mind to be purified, no body to perish and no soul to be saved. At one blow this entire framework of abstractions is shattered to fragments. As
skin,
the Zenrin says:
To save
life it
When
utterly destroyed,
must be destroyed. one dwells for the
first
time in peace.
One word settles heaven and earth; One sword levels the whole world.
Of
this
"one sword" Lin-chi
said:
If a
tions will
on all sides evil condicultivates the Tao, the Tao will not work head up competitively. But when the sword of wisdom [prajna] comes out there's not one thing left.
of prajna''' which cuts away abstraction is that "direct pointZen avoids the entanglements of religiosity and goes straight to the heart. Thus when the Governor of Lang asked Yao-shan, "What is the Tao?" the master pointed upwards to the sky and downwards to a water jug beside him. Asked for an explanation, he replied: "A cloud in the sky and water in the jug."
man
The "sword
ing" whereby
CARL GUSTAV JUNG

The Modern Spiritual Problem
Carl Gustav Jung (1875

chiatrist
) is the
famous Swiss psychologist and psy-
who
long ago broke with his master Freud, in no small part over
just the question of the place of religion, the Judaeo-Christian religion, in
modern world-view. Jung

indeed, true.
is
convinced that such a religion
is
necessary
THE SPIRITUAL PROBLEM OF MODERN MAN IS ONE OF THOSE QUESTIONS which belong so intimately to the present in which we are living that we cannot judge of them fully. The modern man is a newly formed human being; a modern problem is a question which has just arisen and whose answer lies in the future. In speaking, therefore, of the spiritual problem of modern man we can at most state a question and we should perhaps put this statement in different terms if we had but the faintest inkling of the answer. The question, moreover, seems rather vague; but the truth is that it has to do with something so universal that it exceeds the grasp of any single human being. We have reason enough, therefore, to approach such a problem with true moderation and with the greatest caution. I am deeply convinced of this, and wish it stressed the more because it is just and because such problems which tempt us to use high-sounding words I shall myself be forced to say certain things which may sound immoderate and incautious. To begin at once with an example of such apparent lack of caution, I must say that the man we call modern, the man who is aware of the immediate present, is by no means the average man. He is rather the man who stands upon a peak, or at the very edge of the world, the abyss of the future before him, above him the heavens, and below him the whole of
mankind with a history that disappears in primeval mists. The modern man From C. G. Jung, Modern Alan in Search of a Soul (New York: Harcourt, Brace
Harvest Books, n.d.). Translators' (W. S. Dell and Gary F. Baynes) Preface dated 1933, pp. 226-254. The author has made some changes in this essay since its publication in German.
{Trans.)
403
404
CARL GUSTAV JUNG

us say again, the
or, let
man
up
of the unmediate present

to the
is
rarely
met
name, for they must be conscious to a superlative degree. Since to be wholly of the present means to be fully conscious of one's existence as a man, it requires the most intensive and extensive consciousness, with a minimum of unconsciousness. It must be clearly understood that the mere fact of living in the present does not make a man modern, for in that case everyone at present alive would be so. He
with.
live
There are few who
alone
is modern who is fully conscious of the present. The man whom we can with justice call "modern" is
solitary.
He
is
so of
and at all times, for every step towards a fuller consciousness of the present removes him further from his original "participation mystique" with the mass of men from submersion in a common unconsciousness. Every step forward means an act of tearing himself loose from that allembracing, pristine unconsciousness which claims the bulk of mankind
necessity
almost entirely. Even in our civilizations the people

races.
who
form, psychologi-
cally speaking, the lowest stratum, live almost as unconsciously as primitive
Those of the succeeding stratum manifest a level of consciousness which corresponds to the beginnings of human culture, while those of the highest stratum have a consciousness capable of keeping step with the life of the last few centuries. Only the man who is modern in our meaning of the term really lives in the present; he alone has a present-day consciousness, and he alone finds that the ways of life which correspond to earlier levels paU
upon him. The values and strivings of those past worlds no longer interest him save from the historical standpoint. Thus he has become "unhistorical" in the deepest sense and has estranged himself from the mass of men who live entirely within the bounds of tradition. Indeed, he is completely modern only when he has come to the very edge of the world, leaving behind him all that has been discarded and outgrown, and acknowledging that he stands
before a void out of which
all
things
may
grow.
These words may be thought to be but empty sound, and their meaning reduced to mere banality. Nothing is easier than to affect a consciousness of
the present.
As
a matter of fact, a great horde of worthless people give
themselves the air of being modern by overleaping the various stages of

the side of the truly
ghosts,
development and the tasks of Ufe they represent. They appear suddenly by modern man as uprooted human beings, bloodsucking
whose emptiness
casts discredit
is
taken for the unenviable loneliness of the

his kind,
modem
man and
are, are
upon him. He and
few in number as they
hidden from the undiscerning eyes of mass-men by those clouds of
ghosts, the pseudo-moderns. It cannot
be helped; the "modern"
man
is
questionable and suspect, and has always been so, even in the past.
An
is
honest profession of modernity means voluntarily declaring bank-
ruptcy, taking the

stUl
its
vows of poverty and
more
painful
renouncing
A
chastity in a
new
sense,
and
what
mark
burden
the halo which history bestows as a

is
of
sanction.
To be
"unhistorical"
the
Promethean
sin,
and
is
in this sense
3iodern
man
lives in sin.
higher level of consciousness
like a
The Modern
of
guilt.
Spiritual
I
Problem
said, only the
405
But, as
have
man who
has outgrown the stages

full
of consciousness belonging to the past and has amply fulfilled the duties
appointed for him by his world, can achieve a

present.
consciousness of the
To do this he must be sound and proficient in the best sense man who has achieved as much as other people, and even a little more. It
these qualities which enable
ness.
is
him
to gain the next highest level of conscious-
I know that the idea of proficiency is especially repugnant to the pseudomoderns, for it reminds them unpleasantly of their deceits. This, however, cannot prevent us from taking it as our criterion of the modern man. We
are even forced to do so, for unless he

to
is
proficient, the
man who
claims
an unscrupulous gambler. He must be proficient in the highest degree, for unless he can atone by creative abifity for his break with tradition, he is merely disloyal to the past. It is sheer juggling
be
modem is nothing but
upon a denial of the past as the same thing as consciousness of the "Today" stands between "yesterday" and "tomorrow," and forms a link between past and future; it has no other meaning. The present represents a process of transition, and that man may account himself modern who
to look
present.
is
conscious of
it
in this sense.
call
Many
people
themselves modern
especially the pseudo-moderns.
Therefore the really modern

themselves old-fashioned.
man is He takes
often to be found
among
those
who
call
this stand for sufficient reasons.
On
the
one hand he emphasizes the past in order to hold the scales against his break with tradition and that effect of guilt of which I have spoken. On the other hand he wishes to avoid being taken for a pseudo-modern. Every good quality has its bad side, and nothing that is good can come into the world without directly producing a corresponding evil. This is a painful fact. Now there is the danger that consciousness of the present may lead to an elation based upon illusion: the illusion, namely, that we are the culmination of the history of mankind, the fulfilment and the end-product of countless centuries. If we grant this, we should understand that it is no more than the proud acknowledgement of our destitution: we are also the disappointment of the hopes and expectations of the ages. Think of nearly two thousand years of Christian ideals followed, instead of by the return of the Messiah and the heavenly millennium, by the World War among Christian nations and its barbed-wire and poison-gas. What a catastrophe in heaven and on earth! In the face of such a picture we may well grow humble again. It is true that modem man is a culmination, but tomorrow he will be surpassed; he is indeed the end-product of an age-old development, but he is at the same time the worst conceivable disappointment of the hopes of humankind. The modern man is aware of this. He has seen how beneficent are science, technology and organization, but also how catastrophic they can be. He has likewise seen that weU-meaning governments have so thoroughly paved the way for peace on the principle "in time of peace prepare for war," that
406
Europe has nearly gone
"solidarity" of
fire
CARL GUSTAV JUNG

to rack
and
ruin.
And
as for ideals, the Christian
church, the brotherhood of man, international social democracy and the
economic
interests
have
all failed to
stand the baptism of
the test of reality. Today, fifteen years after the war,
we
observe once
same optimism, the same organization, the same political aspirations, the same phrases and catch-words at work. How can we but fear that they will inevitably lead to further catastrophes? Agreements to outlaw war leave us sceptical, even while we wish them all possible success. At bottom, behind every such palHative measure, there is a gnawing doubt.
the
more
On the whole, I beheve I am not exaggerating when I man has suffered an almost fatal shock, psychologically
a result has fallen into profound uncertainty.
say that
modem
speaking, and as
These statements,
sician has coloured
I believe,
make
it
clear
enough that
my
being a phy-
my
views.
doctor always spies out diseases, and I

essential to the physician's art that
exists. I will therefore
cannot cease to be a doctor. But
it is
he
should not discover diseases where none

ticular, are diseased,
not
make
the assertion that the white races in general, and occidental nations in par-
or that the Western world is on the verge of collapse. no way competent to pass such a judgement. It is of course only from my own experience with other persons and with myself that I draw my knowledge of the spiritual problem of modern man. I know something of the intimate psychic life of many hundreds of educated persons, both sick and healthy, coming from every quarter of the civiUzed, white world; and upon this experience I base my statements. No doubt I can draw only a one-sided picture, for the things I have observed are events of psychic life; they he within us on the inner side, if I may use the expression. I must point out that this is not always true of psychic life; the psyche is not always and everywhere to be found on the inner side. It is to be found on the outside in whole races or periods of history which take no account of psychic life as such. As examples we may choose any of the ancient cultures, but especially that of Egypt with its imposing objectivity and its naive confession of sins that have not been committed.* We can no more feel the Pyramids and the Apis tombs of Sakkara to be expressions of personal problems or personal emotions, than we can feel this of the music of Bach. Whenever there is established an external form, be it ritual or spiritual, by which all the yearnings and hopes of the soul are adequately expressed
I
am
in
is
as for instance in
some Uving
religion
then we may say
that the psyche
outside,
and no
spiritual
problem,
strictly
speaking, exists. In consonance

falls entirely
with this truth, the development of psychology

decades, although long before that
within the last
man was
introspective
and
intelligent
enough
to recognize the facts that are the subject-matter of psychology.
* According to Egyptian tradition, when the dead man meets his judges in the underworld, he makes a detailed confession of the crimes he has not committed, but
leaves unmentioned his actual sins. (Trans.)
The Modern
Spiritual
Problem
407
The same was

with
all
the case with technical knowledge.
the mechanical principles and physical facts
they could have constructed the

the toy
The Romans were familiar on the basis of which steam-engine, but all that came of it was
was no urgent necessity to go and specialization in the nineteenth apply all available knowledge. So also
made by Hero
of Alexandria. There
was the century which gave

further. It
division of labour
rise to the
need
to
a spiritual need has produced in our time our "discovery" of psychology. There has never, of course, been a time when the psyche did not manifest
along without heeding
no attention no one noticed it. People got But today we can no longer get along unless we give our best attention to the ways of the psyche. It was men of the medical profession who were the first to notice this; for the priest is concerned only to establish an undisturbed functioning of
itself,
but formerly
it
attracted
it.
the psyche within a recognized system of belief.

true expression to
to healthy Uving,
life,
As long
as this system gives
psychology can be nothing but a technical adjuvant
and the psyche cannot be regarded as a problem in itself. While man still Uves as a herd-being he has no "things of the spirit" of his own; nor does he need any, save the usual belief in the immortality of the soul. But as soon as he has outgrown whatever local form of religion he was born to as soon as this religion can no longer embrace his life in all then the psyche becomes something in its own right which its fulness cannot be dealt with by the measures of the Church alone. It is for this reason that we of today have a psychology founded on experience, and not upon articles of faith or the postulates of any philosophical system. The very fact that we have such a psychology is to me symptomatic of a profound convulsion of spiritual life. Disruption in the spiritual life of an age shows
same pattern as radical change in an individual. As long as all goes well and psychic energy finds its application in adequate and well-regulated ways, we are disturbed by nothing from within. No uncertainty or doubt besets us, and we cannot be divided against ourselves. But no sooner are one or two of the channels of psychic activity blocked, than we are reminded of a stream that is dammed up. The current flows backward to its source; the inner man wants something which the visible man does not want, and we are at war with ourselves. Only then, in this distress, do we discover the psyche; or, more precisely, we come upon something which thwarts our will, which is strange and even hostile to us, or which is inthe
compatible with our conscious standpoint. Freud's psychoanalytic labours
show
this process in the clearest
way. The very
first
thing he discovered
was
the existence of sexually perverse and criminal fantasies which at their face
value are wholly incompatible with the conscious outlook of a civilized man.
A person who was

a criminal or a
of man's
activated
by them would be nothing
less
than a mutineer,
madman.
is
We cannot suppose that this aspect of the unconscious or of the hinterland

mind
something
totally
new. Probably
its
it
has always been there,
in every culture.
Each
culture gave birth to
destructive opposite, but
no
408
culture or civilization before our
CARL GUSTAV JUNG
own was
ever forced to take these psychic

life
undercurrents in deadly earnest. Psychic
always found expression in a But the conscious, modern man, despite his strenuous and dogged efforts to do so, can no longer refrain from acknowledging the might of psychic forces. This distinguishes our time from all others. We can no longer deny that the dark stirrings of the unconscious that psychic forces exist which cannot, for the present are effective powers at least, be fitted in with our rational world-order. We have even enlarged our study of these forces to a science one more proof of the earnest attention we bring to them. Previous centuries could throw them aside unnoticed; for us they are a shirt of Nessus which we carmot strip off. The revolution in our conscious outlook, brought about by the catastrophic results of the World War, shows itself in our inner life by the shattering of our faith in ourselves and our own worth. We used to regard foreigners the other side as political and moral reprobates; but the modern man is forced to recognize that he is poHtically and morally just like anyone else. Whereas I formerly believed it to be my bounden duty to call other persons to order, I now admit that I need calling to order myself. I admit this the more readily because I reaUze only too well that I am losing
metaphysical system of some
sort.
my
faith in the possibiUty of a rational organization of the world, that old
dream grown
of the millennium, in which peace

pale.
and harmony should

all
rule,
has
The modern man's
scepticism regarding
such matters has

that,
it
chilled his enthusiasm for politics
and world-reform; more than
does
not favour any smooth application of psychic energies to the outer world.
Through
his scepticism the
modem man
energies flow towards their source
is thrown back upon himself; his and wash to the surface those psychic
contents which are at
all
times there, but

its
lie
hidden in the
silt
as long as the
stream flows smoothly in
course.
How
totaUy different did the world
appear to mediaeval man! For him the earth was eternally fixed and at rest
in the centre of the universe, encircled
bestowed
by the course of a sun that solicitously were all children of God under the loving care of the Most High, who prepared them for eternal blessedness; and all knew exactly what they should do and how they should conduct themselves in order to rise from a corruptible world to an incorruptible and joyous existence. Such a life no longer seems real to us, even in our dreams. Natural science has long ago torn this lovely veil to shreds. That age lies as far behind as childhood, when one's own father was unquestionably the handsomest and strongest man on earth.
its
warmth.
Men
brother, and set
The modern man has lost all the metaphysical certainties of his mediaeval up in their place the ideals of material security, general welfare and humaneness. But it takes more than an ordinary dose of optimism to make it appear that these ideals are still xmshaken. Material security, even, has gone by the board, for the modern man begins to see that
every step in material "progress" adds just so
much
force to the threat of
a more stupendous catastrophe. The very picture terrorizes the imagination.
The Modern
Spiritual
Problem
409
cities
What
are
we
to imagine
when
today perfect measures of defence
against poison-gas attacks and practise
them
in "dress rehearsals"?
We
but
again on
An
steals
cannot but suppose that such attacks have been planned and provided for
the principle "in time of peace prepare for war." Let
man
accumulate his materials of destruction and the devil within him will soon be unable to resist putting them to their fated use. It is well known that
fire-arms go off of themselves
if
only enough of them are together.
intimation of the law that governs blind contingency, which Heracli-
tus called the rule of enantiodromia (conversion into the opposite),
now
him
upon
the
modern man through
the by-ways of his mind, chiUing
with fear and paralysing his faith in the lasting effectiveness of social and
pohtical measures in the face of these monstrous forces. If he turns
away
from the
world in which building and destroying successively tip the scale, and if he then turns his gaze inward upon the recesses of his own mind, he wUl discover a chaos and a darkness there which he would gladly ignore. Science has destroyed even the refuge of the
terrifying prospect of a blind
become a place of terror. come upon so much evil in the depths of our own minds. We are able to believe, at least, that we have discovered the root of the evil in mankind. Even though we are shocked and disillusioned at first, we yet feel, because these things are manifestations of our own minds, that we hold them more or less in our own hands and
inner
life.
What was once

it is
a sheltering haven has
And
yet
ahnost a rehef for us to
can therefore correct or at least effectively suppress them. We like to assume that, if we succeeded in this, we should have rooted out some fraction of the evil in the world. We like to think that, on the basis of a widespread knowledge of the unconscious and its ways, no one could be deceived by a statesman who was unaware of his own bad motives; the very newspapers would pull him up: "Please have yourself analysed; you are suffering from
a repressed father-complex."
have purposely chosen this grotesque example to show to what abwe are led by the illusion that because something is psychic it is under our control. It is, however, true that much of the evi] in the world is due to the fact that man in general is hopelessly unconscious, as it is also
I
surdities
true that with increasing insight

ourselves.
we can combat
from
within.
this evil at its
source in
As
science enables us to deal with injuries inflicted
from without,
so
it
helps us to treat those arising
The
last
rapid and world-wide growth of a "psychological" interest over the

that
two decades shows unmistakably

call this
modern man has
to
some extent
turned his attention from material things to his
own
subjective processes.
Should we
taken
mere
curiosity?
At any
rate, art
has a
way
of anticipating
art
future changes in man's fundamental outlook,

this subjective
and expressionist
has
advance of the more general change. This "psychological" interest of the present time shows that man expects something from psychic life which he has not received from the outer world: something which our religions, doubtless, ou_ght to contain, but no
turn
in
weU
410
longer do contain
ligion
CARL GUSTAV JUNG
modern man. The various forms of remodern man to come from within to be expressions of his own psychic hfe; for him they are to be classed with the things of the outer world. He is vouchsafed no revelation of a spirit that is not of this world; but he tries on a number of religions and convictions as if they were Sunday attire, only to lay them aside again like worn-out
at least for the
no longer appear
to the
clothes.
by the almost pathological manifestations admit the fact, however difl&cult it is for us to understand that something which previous ages have discarded should suddenly command our attention. That there is a general interest in these matters is a truth which cannot be denied, their offence to good taste notis
Yet he
somehow
fascinated
of the unconscious mind.
We must
withstanding. I
am
not thinking merely of the interest taken in psychology
as a science, or of the stUl narrower interest in the psychoanalysis of Freud,
but of the widespread interest in aU sorts of psychic phenomena as mani-
and so forth. The world has seen nothing like it since the end of the seventeenth century. We can compare it only to the flowering of Gnostic thought in the first and second centuries after Christ. The spiritual currents of the present have, in fact, a deep aflSnity with Gnosticism. There is even a Gnostic church in France today, and I know of two schools in Germany which openly declare themselves Gnostic. The modern movement which is numerically most impressive is undoubtedly Theosophy, together with its continental sister, Anthroposophy; these are pure Gnosticism in a Hindu dress. Compared
fested in the growth of spiritualism, astrology, theosophy,
with these movements the interest in
scientific
is
psychology
is
negligible.
What
upon
is
striking
about Gnostic systems
that they are based exclusively
the manifestations of the unconscious, and that their moral teachings
at the shadow-side of life. Even in the form of its European Hindu Kundalini-Yoga shows this clearly. And as every person informed on the subject of occultism will testify, the statement holds true
do not baulk
revival, the
in this field as well.
The
ligion.
passionate interest in these
movements
arises
undoubtedly from
psychic energy which can no longer be invested in obsolete forms of re-
For this reason such movements have a truly religious character, even when they pretend to be scientific. It changes nothing when Rudolf Steiner calls his Anthroposophy "spiritual science," or Mrs. Eddy discovers a "Christian Science." These attempts at concealment merely show that religion has grown suspect almost as suspect as politics and world-reform. I do not beUeve that I am going too far when I say that modem man, in contrast to his nineteenth-century brother, turns his attention to the psyche with very great expectations; and that he does so without reference to any
traditional creed, but rather in the Gnostic sense of religious experience.
We
should be wrong in seeing mere movements already mentioned try to
caricature or
masquerade when the
give themselves scientific airs; their
doin^ so
is
rather an indication that they are actually pursuing "science" or
The Modern
Spiritual
Problem
411
knowledge instead of the faith which is the essence of Western religions. The modern man abhors dogmatic postulates taken on faith and the religions based upon them. He holds them valid only in so far as their knowledgecontent seems to accord with his own experience of the deeps of psychic life. He wants to know to experience for himself. Dean Inge of St. Paul's has called attention to a movement in the Anglican Church with similar
objectives.
The age
of discovery has only just
come
it
to a close in our
day when no
longer
part of the earth remains unexplored;
began when
men would no
believe that the Hyperboreans inhabited the land of eternal sunshine, but
own eyes what existed beyond the Our age is apparently bent on discovering what exists in the psyche outside of consciousness. The question asked in every spiritualistic circle is: What happens when the medium has lost consciousness? Every Theosophist asks: What shall I experience at higher levels of consciousness? The question which every astrologer puts is this: What
wanted
to find out
and
to see with their
boundaries of the
known
world.
are the effective forces and determinants of
my
fate
beyond the reach of
my
are
conscious intention?
And
every psychoanalyst wants to know:
What
the unconscious drives behind the neurosis?
Our age wishes

experience for
to
itself,
have actual experiences in psychic life. It wants to and not to make assumptions based on the experience
its
of other ages. Yet this does not preclude
way
trying anything in a hypothetical
for instance, the recognized religions and the genuine sciences.

will feel a slight
European of yesterday he gazes at all deeply

subject of this research
shudder run
down
his spine
The when
the
into these delvings.

all
Not only does he consider
too obscure and uncanny, but even the methods
employed seem to him a shocking misuse of man's finest intellectual attainments. What can we expect an astronomer to say when he is told that at least a thousand horoscopes are drawn today to one three hundred years ago? What will the educator and the advocate of philosophical enlightenment say to the fact that the world has not been freed of one single superstition since Greek antiquity? Freud himself, the founder of psychoanalysis, has thrown a glaring light upon the dirt, darkness and evil of the psychic hinterland, and has presented these things as so much refuse and slag; he has thus taken the utmost pains to discourage people from seeking anything behind them. He did not succeed, and his warning has even brought about the very thing he wished to prevent: it has awakened in many people an admiration for all this filth. We are tempted to call this sheer perversity; and we could hardly explain it save on the ground that it is not a love of dirt, but the fascination of the psyche, which draws these people. There can be no doubt that from the beginning of the nineteenth century from the memorable years of the French Revolution onwards man has given a more and more prominent place to the psyche, his increasing attentiveness to it being the measure of its growing attraction for him. The enthronement of the Goddess of Reason in Notre Dame seems to have been
412
the hewing
CARL GUSTAV JUNG
a symbolic gesture of great significance to the Western world
rather like
by the Christian missionaries. For then, as at the Revolution, no avenging bolt from heaven struck the blasphemer down. It is certainly more than an amusing coincidence that just at that time a Frenchman, AnquetU du Perron, was hving in India, and, in the early eighteen-hundreds, brought back with him a translation of the Oupnek'hat a collection of fifty Upanishads ^which gave the Western world its first deep insight into the baflBiing mind of the East. To the historian this is mere chance without any factors of cause and effect. But in view of my medical experience I cannot take it as accident. It seems to me rather to satisfy a psychological law whose validity in personal life, at least, is complete. For every piece of conscious life that loses its importance and value so runs the law there arises a compensation in the unconscious. We may see in this an analogy to the conservation of energy in the physical world, for our psychic processes have a quantitative aspect also. No psychic value can disappear without being replaced by another of equivalent intensity. This is a rule which finds its pragmatic sanction in the daily practice of the psychotherapist; it is repeatedly verified and never fails. Now the doctor in me
of Wotan's oak
down
refuses point blank to consider the
life
of a people as something that does

in the doctor's eyes, presents
life
not conform to psychological law.
A people,
only a somewhat more complex picture of psychic
than the individual.
Moreover, taking
its
it
the other
way round, has not

it
a poet spoken of the
"nations" of his soul?

aspects the psyche
And
is
quite correctly, as
is
seems to me, for in one of
not individual, but
derived from the nation, from
collectivity,
or from humanity even. In some way or other we are part of an all-embracing psychic life, of a single "greatest" man, to quote Sweden-
borg.
And
so
we can draw
a parallel: just as in me, a single

light, so
human
being, the
darkness calls forth the helpful
does
it
also in the psychic Ufe of a
people. In the crowds that poured into Notre Dame, bent on destruction, dark and nameless forces were at work that swept the individual off his feet; these forces worked also upon Anquetil du Perron, and provoked an answer which has come down in history. For he brought the Eastern mind
to the West, and its influence upon us we cannot as yet measure. Let us beware of underestimating it! So far, indeed, there is little of it to be seen in Europe on the intellectual surface: some orientalists, one or two Buddhist enthusiasts, and a few sombre celebrities like Madame Blavatsky and Annie Besant. These manifestations make us think of tiny, scattered islands in the ocean of mankind; in reality they are like the peaks of submarine mountain-
ranges of considerable
size.
The
Phihstine believed until recently that astrol-
ogy had been disposed of long since, and was something that could be safely laughed at. But today, rising out of the social deeps, it knocks at the doors of the universities from which it was banished some three hundred
years ago.
The same
is
true of the thought of the East;
it
takes root in the
The Modern
Spiritual
Problem
413
five or
lower social levels and slowly grows to the surface. Where did the
six million Swiss francs for the
Anthroposophist temple at
of
Domach come
statis-
from? Certainly not from one individual. Unfortunately there are no

tics
to tell us the exact
number
avowed Theosophists today, not
to
mention the unavowed. But we can be sure that there are several milHons of them. To this number we must add a few milUon Spiritualists of Christian or Theosophic leanings. Great innovations never come from above; they come invariably from below; just as trees never grow from the sky downward, but upward from the earth, however true it is that their seeds have fallen from above. The upheaval of our world and the upheaval in consciousness is one and the same. Everything becomes relative and therefore doubtful. And while man, hesitant and questioning, contemplates a world that is distracted with treaties of peace and pacts of friendship, democracy and dictatorship, capitalism and Bolshevism, his spirit yearns for an answer that wiU allay thQ turmoil of doubt and uncertainty. And it is just people of the lower social
levels
who
follow the imconscious forces of the psyche;
derided, sUent folk of the land
it
is
the
much-
those
who
are less infected with academic
prejudices than great celebrities are

at
wont to be. All these people, looked from above, present mostly a dreary or laughable comedy; and yet they are as impressively simple as those Galileans who were once called blessed.
it
Is
not touching to see the refuse of man's psyche gathered together in
compendia a foot thick?

fantasies, while
We
find recorded in
Anthropophyteia with scrulike
pulous care the merest babblings, the most absurd actions and the wildest
men
like
Havelock
Ellis
and Freud have dealt with the

all scientific
matters in serious treatises which have been accorded
honours.
Their reading pubhc

world.
is
scattered over the breadth of the civilized, white
How
are
we
to explain this zeal, this almost fanatical
worship of
repellent things? In this
way: the repellent things belong to the psyche, they are of the substance of the psyche and therefore as precious as fragments of manuscript salvaged from ancient ruins. Even the secret and noisome things of the inner life are valuable to modern man because they serve his purpose. But what purpose? Freud has prefixed to his Interpretation of Dreams the citation: Flectere si nequeo superos Acheronta movebo "If I caimot bend the gods on high, I will at least set Acheron in uproar." But to what purpose? The gods whom we are called to dethrone are the idolized values of our
it
conscious world.
deities
It is
well
known that
which contributed most to
their discredit;
was the love-scandals of the ancient and now history is repeat-
ing
itself.
People are laying bare the dubious foundations of our belauded
virtues
and incomparable ideals, and are calling out to us in triumph: "There are your man-made gods, mere snares and delusions tainted with human baseness ^whited sepulchres full of dead men's bones and of all uncleanness." We recognize a familiar strain, and the Gospel words, which we never could make our own, now come to life again.
414
I
CARL GUSTAV JUNG
am
to
deeply convinced that these are not vague analogies. There are too
many
and
persons to
whom
Freudian psychology
is
dearer than the Gospels,
means more than civic virtue. And yet all these people are our brothers, and in each of us there is at least one voice which seconds them for in the end there is a psychic life which
whom
the Russian Terror
is that an ugUer face is no one can love it any longer in the end there is nothing in the reality of the life within. Here, no doubt, we have the true significance of this spiritual change. After all, what does Theosophy, with its doctrines of karma and reincarnation, seek to teach except that this world of appearance is but a temporary health-resort for the morally unperfected? It depreciates the present-day world no less
embraces us all. The unexpected
result of this spiritual

It
change
put upon the world.
becomes so ugly ^we cannot even love ourselves and outer world to draw us away from the
that
radically than does the
modern
outlook, but with the help of a different

it
technique;
in that
it
it
does not
vilify
our world, but grants
only a relative meaning

is
promises other and higher worlds. The result

all
in either case
the same,
I
grant that
these ideas are extremely "unacademic," the truth being
that they touch
again a
modem man on the side where he is least conscious. Is it mere coincidence that modem thought has had to come to terms
with Einstein's relativity theory and with ideas about the structure of the
atom which lead us away from determinism and visual representation? Even is no wonder, then, in my opinion, if the modem man falls back upon the reaUty of psychic life and expects from it that certainty which the world denies him. But spiritually the Western world is in a precarious situation and the danger is greater the more we blind ourselves to the merciless truth with
physics volatilizes our material world. It
about our beauty of soul. The Occidental burns incense to himself, own countenance is veiled from him in the smoke. But how do we strike men of another colour? What do China and India think of us? What feehngs do we arouse in the black man? And what is the opinion of all those whom we deprive of their lands and exterminate with rum and veneillusions
and
his
real disease?
I have a Red Indian friend who is the governor of a pueblo. When we were once speaking confidentially about the white man, he said to me: "We always don't understand the whites; they are always wanting something restless always looking for something. What is it? We don't know. We
can't understand them.
They have such sharp
noses, such thin, cruel lips,
such Unes in their faces.
We
think they are
all
crazy."
My friend had recognized,
without being able to

it
name
of prey with his insatiable lust to lord
in every land
even
it,
the
Aryan bird
those that
concern him not at all. And he had also noted that megalomania of ours which leads us to suppose, among other things, that Christianity is the only truth, and the white Christ the only Redeemer. After setting the whole East
The Modern
Spiritual
Problem
415
tribute
in turmoil with our science
and technology, and exacting
from
it,
we send our
The stamping out of polygamy by the African missions has given rise to prostitution on such a scale that in Uganda alone twenty thousand pounds sterling is spent yearly on preventamissionaries even to China.
tives of venereal infection,
not to speak of the moral consequences, which
have been of the worst.

their edifying
And the good European pays his missionaries for achievements! No need to mention also the story of suffering
in Polynesia
and the blessings of the opium trade. the European looks when he is extricated from the cloud of his own moral incense. No wonder that to unearth buried fragments of psychic life we have first to drain a miasmal swamp. Only a great idealist like Freud could devote a lifetime to the unclean work. This is the beginning of our psychology. For us acquaintance with the realities of psychic life could start only at this end, with all that repels us and that we do not wish
That
is
how
to see.
But power
tive.
if
the psyche consisted for us only of evil and worthless things,
no
in the
is
world could induce a normal
man
to pretend to find
it
attrac-
intellectual superficiality,
who see in Theosophy nothing but regrettable and in Freudian psychology nothing but sensationalism, prophesy an early and inglorious end for these movements. They overlook the fact that they derive their force from the fascination of psychic life. No doubt the passionate interest that is aroused by them may find other expressions; but it will certainly show itself in these forms until they are replaced by something better. Superstition and perversity are after all one and the same. They are transitional or embryonic stages from which new
This
people
why
and riper forms wUl emerge. Whether from the intellectual, the moral or the aesthetic viewpoint, the undercurrents of the psychic life of the West present an uninviting picture. We have built a monumental world round about us, and have slaved for it with unequalled energy. But it is so imposing only because we have spent upon the outside all that is imposing in our natures and what we find when we look within must necessarily be as it is, shabby and insufficient. I am aware that in saying this I somewhat anticipate the actual growth of consciousness. There is as yet no general insight into these facts of psychic life. Westerners are only on the way to a recognition of these facts, and
for quite understandable reasons they struggle violently against
it.
Of
course Spengler's pessimism has exerted

safely confined to
some
influence, but this has

it
been
academic
circles.
As
for psychological insight,
always
trespasses
upon personal life, and therefore meets with personal resistances and denials. I am far from considering these resistances meaningless; on the contrary I see in them a healthy reaction to something which threatens destruction. Whenever relativism is taken as a fundamental and final principle it has a destructive effect. When, therefore, I call attention to the
dismal undercurrents of the psyche,
it is
not in order to sound a pessimistic
note; I wish rather to emphasize the fact that the unconscious has a strong
416
CARL GUSTAV JUNG

minds as well
she has
and
attraction not only for the sick, but for healthy, constructive
this in spite of its
is
alarming aspect. The psychic depths are nature,

true that nature tears
it
and nature
creative
life. It is
down what
once again. Whatever values in the visible world are destroyed by modern relativism, the psyche will produce their equivalents. At first we cannot see beyond the path that leads downward to dark and hateful things but no light or beauty wUl ever come
herself built
^yet
up
she buUds
from the man who cannot bear this sight. Light is always born of darkness, and the sun never yet stood still in heaven to satisfy man's longing or to still his fears. Does not the example of Anquetil du Perron show us how psychic life survives its own echpse? China hardly believes that European science and technology are preparing her ruin. Why should we believe that we must be destroyed by the secret, spiritual influence of the East? But I forget that we do not yet realize that while we are turning upside
down
with
the material world of the East with our technical proficiency, the East
its
psychic proficiency
is
throwing our spiritual world into confusion.

are overpowering the fastening
We have never yet hit upon the thought that while we

Orient from without,
it
may be
its
hold upon us from within. Such
an idea
strikes us as
almost insane, because
material connections, and faU to see that

intellectual confusion of
we have eyes only for gross we must lay the blame for the
our middle class at the doors of
Max MiiUer,
Olden-
Neumann, Deussen, Wilhelm and others Hke them. What does the example of the Roman Empire teach us? After the conquest of Asia Minor, Rome became Asiatic; even Europe was infected by Asia, and remains so today. Out of Cilicia came the Mithraic cult the religion of the Roman army and it spread from Egypt to fog-bound Britain. Need I point to the
berg,
Asiatic origin of Christianity?
We
and
ings
have not yet clearly grasped the fact that Western Theosophy
is
an
amateurish imitation of the East.

that to the Oriental
is
We
are just taking
up astrology
life,
again,
origi-
his daily bread.
Our
studies of sexual
nating in Vienna and in England, are matched or surpassed by
Hindu teach-
on
this
subject.
Oriental texts ten centuries old introduce us to
philosophical relativism, while the idea of indetermination, newly broached

in the West, furnishes the very basis of Chinese science.
Richard Wilhelm
has even shown

analysis itself
me that certain complicated processes
discovered by analyti-
Chinese texts. Psychoand the lines of thought to which it gives rise surely a distinctly Western development are only a beginner's attempt compared to what is an immemorial art in the East. And now we must ask a final question. Is what I have said of the modem man reaUy true, or is it perhaps the result of an optical illusion? There can be no doubt whatever that the facts I have cited are wholly irrelevant contingencies in the eyes of many miUions of Westerners, and seem only regrettable errors to a large number of educated persons. But I may ask: What did a cultivated Roman think of Christianity when he saw it spreading
cal psychology are recognizably described in ancient
The Modern
Spiritual
Problem
417
among
the people of the lowest classes?
beyond the Mediterranean. One kind of believer holds the other an ignoble heretic, to be pitied and tolerated if he cannot be changed. What is more, a clever European is convinced that religion and such things are good enough for the masses and for women, but are of little weight compared to economic and political
person in the Western world
as living as Allah
affairs.
The
biblical
God
is still
a living
So
am
refuted
all
along the
line, like
man who
predicts a thunder-
storm when there

icant in psychic
is
not a cloud in the sky. Perhaps
the horizon that he senses

life
is
and
it is
a storm beneath
is signif-
it
may
never reach us. But what
always below the horizon of consciousness, and
when we speak
things
is
of the spiritual problem of
with things that are barely visible
with bowers
and
with
modem man we
are dealing
fragile
the
most intimate and
that
open only
in the night. In daylight everything
and we live in who have bad dreams which even spoil their days for them. And the day's life is for many people such a bad dream that they long for the night when the spirit awakes. I even believe that there are nowadays a great many such people, and this is why I maintain that the spiritual problem of modern man is much as I have
clear
tangible; but the night lasts as long as the day,
the night-time also. There are persons
presented
it.
must plead
guilty, indeed, to the
charge of one-sidedness,
to a practical
for I have not mentioned the
modern
spirit of
commitment
world about which everyone has much to say because it lies in such fuU view. We find it in the ideal of internationalism or supemationalism which is embodied in the League of Nations and the like; and we find it also in sport and, very expressively, in the cinema and in jazz music. These are certainly characteristic symptoms of our time; they show unmistakably how the ideal of humanism is made to embrace the body also. Sport represents an exceptional valuation of the human body, as does
also
story,
modern dancing. The cinema, on the other hand, like the detective makes it possible to experience without danger all the excitement,
life.
passion and desirousness which must be repressed in a humanitarian ordering of

It is
not
difficult to see
how
these
symptoms are connected
with the psychic situation. The attractive power of the psyche brings about a
new
self-estimation
re-estimation of the basic facts of

if
human
nature.
We
can hardly be surprised

its
this leads to the rediscovery of the
body
after
long depreciation in the
name
of the
spirit.
We
are even tempted
to speak of the body's revenge
upon
the spirit.
When
Keyserling sarcasti-
he has struck, mark. The body lays claim to equal recognition; like the psyche, it also exerts a fascination. If we are stiU caught by the old idea of an antithesis between mind and matter, the present state of affairs means an unbearable contradiction; it may even divide us against ourselves. But if we can reconcile ourselves with the mysterious truth that spirit is the living body seen from within, and the body the
cally singles out the chauffeur as the culture-hero of our time,
as he often does, close to the
418
outer manifestation of the living spirit
CARL GUSTAV JUNG
the two being really one
^then
we can understand why

level of consciousness
it
is
that the attempt to transcend the present
must give its due to the body. We shall also see body cannot tolerate an outlook that denies the body in the name of the spirit. These claims of physical and psychic life are so pressing compared to similar claims in the past, that we may be tempted to see in this a sign of decadence. Yet it may also signify a rejuvenation, for
that belief in the
as Holderlin says:
Danger
Fosters
itself
the
rescuing
power.^
is that the Western world strikes up a still more American tempo the very opposite of quietism and resigned aloofness. An enormous tension arises between the opposite poles of outer and inner life, between objective and subjective reaUty. Perhaps it is a final race between ageing Europe and young America; perhaps it is a desperate or a wholesome effort of conscious man to cheat the laws of nature of their hidden might and to wrest a yet greater, more heroic victory from the sleep of the nations. This is a question which his-
What we
rapid tempo
actually see
the
tory will answer.
In coming to a close after so

return to the promise
many bold
assertions, I
would
like to
be mindful of the need for moderation and caution. Indeed, I do not forget that my voice is but one voice, my experience a mere drop in the sea, my knowledge no greater
at the outset to
made
than the visual
field in
a microscope,
my
a small comer of the world, and

1
my
ideas
mind's eye a mirror that

a subjective confession.
reflects
Wo
Gefahr ist, Wdchst das Rettende auch.
(Holderlin.)
E
The Voices of Science
SIGMUND FREUD
Psycho -Analysis
many of us, its heirs, have taken natural the human mind ought to go to work on
is
have already insisted that the eighteenth-century Enlightenment and science as the exemplar of how all questions it asks itself. There
a very strong world-view
call
it
Enlightened, positivist, naturalistic,
materialist,
sect
names
secularistic ,
humanist, none of these names are more than which gives, in the works of its various practitioners, whole
varied sets of answers to the questions of man's condition. I propose in

this subsection to give
tions for
tial,
a few samples of these scientific faiths, or prescripour mental security. I begin with the greatest and most influen-
Sigmund Freud (1856-1938). Once more, no one of Freud's shows him whole. For the relatively little-known piece I give here I claim only that it is his own attempt to put in his own words in his maturity (in 1926, when he was 70) a brief outline of his work. This account of psychoanalysis was written by Freud for a supplement to the Encyclopaedia Britannica. A few minor changes made by the editors of the Encyclopaedia are noted in footnotes to this extract from Volume XX of the English translation of the standard works of Freud. You will note the scientist's austerity and simplicity of style an interesting contrast with the
that of
writings
essay of Jung's above.
SINCE PSYCHO-ANALYSIS
to
its
WAS NOT MENTIONED

it
IN
THE ELEVENTH EDITION
of the Encyclopaedia Britannica,
is
impossible to restrict this account
advances since 1910. The more important and the more interesting
its
portion of
history lies in the period before that date.^
From Sigmund Freud, Complete Psychological Works. Translated from the German by James Strachey in collaboration with Anna Freud. Vol. XX (1925-1926),
The Question of Lay Analysis (London: The Hogarth ^ [This paragraph was omitted in the Encyclopaedia
Press, 1959), pp. 263-270. Britannica. It is explained
by
the fact that Freud was writing a contribution to the three supplementary volumes issued in 1926, which were merely intended to bring the eleventh edition, pubUshed in 1910-11, up to date.]
420
Psycho-Analysis
421
PREHISTORY
In the years 1880-2 a Viennese physician, Dr. Josef Breuer (18421925), discovered a new procedure by means of which he relieved a girl,
who was
toms.
suffering
from severe
hysteria, of her
The idea occurred to him impressions which she had received during a period of agitation while she was nursing her sick father. He therefore induced her, while she was
that the
in a state of hypnotic
many and various sympsymptoms were connected with
somnambulism,
to search for these connections in
her
memory and
to live through the "pathogenic" scenes
once again with-
out inhibiting the affects that arose in the process. He found that she had done this the symptom in question disappeared for good.
into the origm of hysterical
entirely uninfluenced
when
This was at a date before the investigations of Charcot and Pierre Janet symptoms, and Breuer's discovery was thus
by them. But he did not pursue the matter any furit was not until some ten years later that he took it up again in collaboration with Sigmund Freud. In 1895 they published a book. Studies on Hysteria, in which Breuer's discoveries were described and an attempt was made to explain them by the theory of "catharsis." According to that hypothesis, hysterical symptoms originate through the energy of a mental process being withheld from conscious influence and being diverted into bodily iimervation ("conversion"). A hysterical symptom would thus be a substitute for an omitted mental act and a reminiscence of the occasion which should have given rise to that act. And, on
ther at the time,
and
this view,
recovery would be a result of the liberation of the affect that had gone astray and of its discharge along a normal path ("abreaction"). Cathartic treatment gave excellent therapeutic results, but it was found
permanent and that they were not independent of the personal relation between the patient and the physician. Freud, who later proceeded with these investigations by himself, made an alteration in their technique, by replacing hypnosis by the method of free association. He invented the term "psycho-analysis," which in the course of time came
that they were not
two meanings: (1) a particular method of treatmg nervous disorders and (2) the science of unconscious mental processes, which has also been appropriately described as "depth-psychology."
to have
SUBJECT-MATTER OF PSYCHO-ANALYSIS
therapeutic procedure, owing to the fact that
tients^
Psycho-analysis finds a constantly increasing amount of support as a it can do more for its pa-
application
states;
2
than any other method of treatment. The principal field of its hysteria, phobias and obsessional is in the milder neuroses and in malformations of character and sexual inhibitions or abnor-
[In the
Encyclopaedia Britannica: "for certain classes of patients."]
422
malities
it
SIGMUND FREUD
can also bring about marked improvements or even recoveries. upon dementia praecox and paranoia is doubtful; on the other hand, in favourable circumstances it can cope with depressive states, even
Its influence
if
they are of a severe type.
In every instance the treatment makes heavy claims upon both the
physician and the patient: the former requires a special training and must
devote a long period of time to exploring the mind of each patient, while the latter must make considerable sacrifices, both material and mental.
Nevertheless,
all
the trouble involved
is
as a rule
rewarded by the
its
results.
Psycho-analysis does not act as a convenient panacea ("cito, tute, ju-
cunde") for psychological disorders.
On
the contrary,
first
application has
been instrumental in making clear for the

in Berlin
limitations in the treatment of such affections.
and Vienna that
difficulties and For the moment it is only there are voluntary institutions which make
time the
psycho-analytic treatment accessible to the wage-earning classes.^
The therapeutic influence of psycho-analysis depends on the replacement of unconscious mental acts by conscious ones and is effective within the limits of that factor. The replacement is effected by overcoming internal resistances in the patient's mind. The future will probably attribute
far greater importance to psycho-analysis as the science of the
uncon-
scious than as a therapeutic procedure.
Psycho-analysis, in
life
its
character of depth-psychology, considers mental
from three points of view: the dynamic, the economic and the topothe
first
graphical.
From
derives
of these standpoints, the
dynamic one, psycho-analysis
all
mental processes (apart from the reception of external stimuli)
from the interplay of forces, which assist or inhibit one another, combine with one another, enter into compromises with one another, etc. All of
these forces are originaUy in the nature of instincts; thus they have an
organic origin.
store of
They are characterized by possessing an immense (somatic) power ('7/ie compulsion to repeat"); and they are represented
is
mentally as images or ideas with an affective charge. In psycho-analysis,
no
less
than in other sciences, the theory of the instincts
an obscure
subject.
An
empirical analysis leads to the formulation of two groups of
instincts:
the so-called "ego-instincts," which are directed towards self-
preservation,
tions to
and the "object-instincts," which are concerned with relaan external object. The social instincts are not regarded as ele-
mentary or irreducible. Theoretical speculation leads to the suspicion that lie concealed behind the manifest ego-instincts and object-instincts: namely (a) Eros, the instinct which strives for ever closer union, and (b) the instinct of destruction, which
there are two fundamental instincts which
leads towards the dissolution of
what
is
is
living.
In psycho-analysis the
"libido."
manifestation of the force of Eros

^ [In
given the
name
the Encyclopaedia Britannica this sentence was transferred to the end of the
article.]
Psycho-Analysis
423
From
the economic standpoint psycho-analysis supposes that the
men-
have a charge {cathexisY of definite quantities of energy, and that it is the purpose of the mental apparatus to hinder any damming-up of these energies and to keep as low as possible
tal representatives of the instincts
the total
amount of
the excitations with which
it is
loaded.
The course
of
mental processes is automatically regulated by the "pleasure-unpleasure principle"; and unpleasure is thus in some way related to an increase of excitation and pleasure to a decrease. In the course of development the
original pleasure principle undergoes a modification with reference to the
external world, giving place to the "reality principle," in accordance with
which the mental apparatus learns to postpone the pleasure of satisfaction and to tolerate temporarily feelings of unpleasure. Topographically, psycho-analysis regards the mental apparatus as a compound instrument, and endeavours to determine at what points in it the various mental processes take place. According to the most recent psycho-analytic views, the mental apparatus is composed of an "id," which is the repository of the instinctual impulses, of an "ego," which is the most superficial portion of the id and one which has been modified by the influence of the external world, and of a "super-ego," which develops out
of the
id,
are characteristic of
dominates the ego and represents the inhibitions of instinct that man. The quality of consciousness, too, has a topois
graphical reference; for processes in the id are entirely unconscious, while
consciousness
the function of the ego's outermost layer, which
is
con-
cerned with the perception of the external world.
At this point two observations may be in place. It must not be supposed that these very general ideas are presuppositions upon which the
work
upon
its
of psycho-analysis depends.
On
the contrary, they are

is
its
latest
con-
clusions
and are "open to
revision."^ Psycho-analysis
life;
founded securely
the observation of the facts of mental

is
and for that very reason
theoretical superstructure
stUl
incomplete and subject to constant
alteration. Secondly, there is no reason for surprise that psycho-analysis, which was originaUy no more than an attempt at explaining pathological mental phenomena, should have developed into a psychology of normal mental life. The justification for this arose with the discovery that the dreams and mistakes ["parapraxes," such as slips of the tongue, etc.] of normal men have the same mechanism as neurotic symptoms. The first task of psycho-analysis was the elucidation of nervous disorders. The analytic theory of the neuroses is based on three cornerstones: the recognition of (1) "repression,"^ of (2) the importance of the
sexual instinct and of (3) "transference."^
(1) There
*
is
is
a force in the mind which exercises the functions of a

this
which Freud himself used
seems to be the only instance in English equivalent of the German "Besetzung."] ^ [In English in the original. In the Encyclopaedia Britannica the phrase is preceded by the words "in every respect."] [In English in the original.]
[The word
in English in the original. This
424
censorship, and which excludes
SIGMUND FREUD
from consciousness and from any influence it. Such tendencies are described as "repressed." They reman unconscious; and if one attempts to bring them into the patient's consciousness one provokes a "resistance."^ These repressed instinctual impulses, however, have not always become powerless. In many cases they succeed in making their influence felt in the mind by circuitous paths, and the indirect or substitutive satisfactions of repressed impulses thus achieved are what constitute neurotic symptoms. (2) For cultural reasons the most intense repression falls upon the sexual instincts; but it is precisely in connection with them that repression most easily miscarries, so that neurotic symptoms are found to be substi-
upon
action
all
tendencies which displease
tutive satisfactions of repressed sexuality.

life
The
belief that in
man
it
sexual
begins only at puberty
is
incorrect.
On
the contrary, signs of

it
can be
first
detected from the beginning of extra-uterine existence;
reaches a
culminating point at or before the

it is
fifth
year ("early period"), after which
inhibited or interrupted ("latency period") until the age of puberty,

is
which
the second
cUmax
first
of
its
development. This diphasic onset of
sexual development seems to be distinctive of the genus periences during the
Homo.
All ex-
period of chUdhood are of the greatest im-
portance to the individual, and in combination with his inherited sexual constitution form the dispositions for the subsequent development of
character and disease. It
itality."
is
wrong
to
make
sexuality coincide with "gen-
The
sexual instincts pass through a complicated course of devel-
opment, and it is only at the end of it that the "primacy of the genital zones" is attained. Before this there are a number of "pregenital" organizations of the libido points at which it may become "fixated" and to which, in the event of subsequent repression, it will return ("regression"). The infantile fixations of the libido are what determine the form of any
later neurosis.
Thus
the neuroses are to be regarded as inhibitions in the

libido.
development of the
There are no
specific causes of
nervous dis-
orders; the question whether a conflict finds a healthy solution or leads

to a neurotic inhibition of function
tions.
depends upon quantitative considera-
The most important
conflict with
relation to his parents, the
which a small child is faced is his "Oedipus Complex"; it is in attempting to

reactions against the instinctual
grapple with this problem that those destined to suffer from a neurosis
habitually
come
to grief.
The
demands
of
the Oedipus complex are the source of the most precious and socially
important achievements of the

species as a whole.
human mind; and
this
holds true not only
in the life of individuals but probably also in the history of the
human
The
super-ego, too, the moral agency which dominates
the ego, has
its
origin in the process of

is
overcoming the Oedipus complex.

striking
(3)
By
"transference"
meant a
peculiarity of neurotics.
They develop towards

affectionate
their physician emotional
and
hostile character,
relations, both of an which are not based upon the actual
Psycho-Analysis
425
situation but are derived from their relations to their parents (the Oedipus complex). Transference is a proof of the fact that adults have not overcome their former childish dependence; it coincides with the force which has been named "suggestion"; and it is only by learning to make use of it that the physician is enabled to induce the patient to overcome his internal resistances and do away with his repressions. Thus psycho-analytic treatment acts as a second education of the adult, as a corrective to his education as a child. Within this narrow compass it has been impossible to mention many
matters of the greatest interest, such as the "sublimation" of instincts, the

part played by symbolism, the problem of "ambivalence," etc.
Nor has
there been space to allude to the applications of psycho-analysis, which
we have seen, in the sphere of medicine, to other departments of knowledge (such as Social Anthropology, the Study of Religion, Literary History and Education) where its influence is constantly increasing. It is enough to say that psycho-analysis, in its character of the psychology of the deepest, unconscious mental acts, promises to become the link between Psychiatry and all of these other branches of mental science.
originated, as
THE EXTERNAL HISTORY OF PSYCHO-ANALYSIS

The beginnings of psycho-analysis may be marked by two dates: 1895, which saw the publication of Breuer and Freud's Studies on Hysteria, and 1900, which saw that of Freud's Interpretation of Dreams. At first the new discoveries aroused no interest either in the medical profession or among the general public. In 1907 the Swiss psychiatrists, under the leadership of E. Bleuler and C. G. Jung, began to concern themselves in the subject; and in 1908 there took place at Salzburg a first meeting of adherents from a number of different countries. In 1909 Freud and Jung were invited to America by G. Stanley Hall to deliver a series of lectures on psycho-analysis at Clark University, Worcester, Mass. From that time forward interest grew rapidly in Europe; it expressed itself, however, in a very forcible rejection of the new teachings a rejection which often showed an unscientific colouring. The reasons for this hostility were to be found, from the medical point
of view, in the fact that psycho-analysis lays stress
upon psychical
factors,
and from the philosophical point of view,
in
its
assuming as an underlying
postulate the concept of unconscious mental activity; but the strongest
reason was undoubtedly the general disinclination of mankind to concede

to the factor of sexuality the
analysis. In spite of this
importance that is assigned to it by psychowidespread opposition, however, the movement in favour of psycho-analysis was not to be checked. Its adherents formed
themselves into an International Association, which passed successfully
through the ordeal of the World War, and
at the present
time (1925)
comprises local groups in Vienna, Berlin, Budapest, London, Switzerland,
426
Holland,
SIGMUND FREUD
Moscow and
Calcutta, as well as
two
in the
United
is
States.
There
are three periodicals representing the views of these societies: the Internationale Zeitschrijt
jiir
Psycho-analyse, Imago (which
concerned with
the application of psycho-analysis to non-medical fields of knowledge),
and
the International Journal of Psycho-Analysis.
During the years 1911-13 two former adherents, Alfred Adler, of Vienna, and C. G. Jung, of Zurich, seceded from the psycho-analytic movement and founded schools of thought of their own, which, in view
of the general hostility to psycho-analysis, could be certain of a favourable reception, but which remained scientifically sterile J In 1921 Dr.
M.
Eitingon founded in Berlin the

training-school,
''
first
public psycho-analytic clinic and

in Vienna.
and
this
was soon followed by a second
[The
last clause
was omitted
in the Encyclopaedia Britannica.]
JOHN LANGDON-DAVIES
Science, the
New
Religion
of Faith (1925) by the English publicist John LangdonDavies (1897) is no doubt a now pretty well forgotten best seller and book-club success. But it says with clarity and firmness something that there is in that seems most pertinent to our purpose in this book
The New Age
minds of many, a religious faith in science. The pillar of faith in Science as religion rests even in our age of existentialism, Freud, and alienation, on a simple belief in Evolution as Progress. The natural scientists have explained for us the long, slow but
the
on a planet
reasonably well-understood processes that have produced homo sapiens that earlier could do no better than trilobites or dinosaurs. The
social scientists continue to try hard, but with less success, to explain that
a process of Cultural Evolution which will result in a peaceful, righteous, happy society on a planet that once could do no better than produce aggressive, unhappy, if affluent, societies
now man
is
here on earth, there
is
in a few small areas, leaving the rest of its surface to equally aggressive and unrighteous but far from affluent ones. And this is very important this Cultural Evolution will, must, get its fob done in no time, fust a few
seconds in terms of the time scale of organic evolution. An absurd faith? But did not one of the greatest exponents of an earlier faith, the patristic theologian Tertullian, write certum est quia impossibile est (it is certain because
it
is
impossible), a dictum
into: I believe
because
it's
absurd?
It is true that
commonly and we
effectively simplified
are
now employing a
terminology somewhat different from that of natural science, but these believers in Evolution-Progress are priests, not scientists. The reader who
wishes to sample a fine contemporary statement of their doctrines will Study of Man and find one in Leslie A. White, The Science of Culture:
Civilization
1949), and again in effectively condensed form in a work edited by two disciples of Professor I nearly White, M. D. Sahlins and E. R. Service, eds.. Evoluwrote. Reverend
(New York: Farrar
Straus,
tion
and Culture (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1960). John Langdon-Davies, The New Age of Faith, (Garden City, N. Y.: Garden
City
Publishing Co., 1925), pp. 13-27.
427
428
IN THIS
JOHN LANGDON-DAVIES
BOOK TWO RELATED QUESTIONS ARE DISCUSSED;
tell
science to
us about
human
society?
beings listen to what science has to

questions
is
FIRST, WHAT HAS and second, how far will human tell them? The second of these two
really the
more important, because

it
unless
willing to follow the dictates of organized
common
sense, as
all,
human beings are we have been

so far as social
diligent scientists:
scientist's brain,
taught to call science,

progress
is
does not really matter at

truths are
concerned,
how many
dug up by
the truths
may
glitter like
diamonds in the Ught of the
they will be as invisible as a black cat in the dark

striving.
It is
room
of ordinary
human
chil-
common
sense, for example, that too
much candy
is
bad for
dren, but the chances are that the emotional check of fear will stop a
child's overeating long before
about physiology, it more, or I'll ," and
is
true, is
any knowledge of physiology. Conunon sense behind the parent's sharp "don't eat any
it is
just possible that society
may
say, "I
am
a child,
or rather a large group of children and I will appoint a

specialists, experts
number
of scientists,
and busybodies
sense to
tell
to
be
my
is
foster parents,
armed with
unlikely,
it
organized
common
me what
good for me";

exist
it is
but
it is
possible;
and a small number of people

so
who
think
would
likely
be
to
desirable.
And
we
shall consider in this
book what would be
happen
if
those foster parents were appointed.
We
will also
the potential foster parents' claim to a great and good scientific
examine knowledge
about social needs and aspirations.
And
end
again
we
will
it
ask
if
organizing
if
common
sense does not sometimes
who want have not in some instances every sense except common sense; and in other instances no sense at all. We shall have to look into each of these questions.
in organizing
away
altogether;
the self-styled scientists,
to save society,
But
first
of
all,
why "The New Age
of Faith"? Because
we
are going to
deal only with the problems of the present day; with the question, can sci-
ence save our present social Ufe; with the needs, aspirations,
perplexities of a. d. 1925:
and no other age has been
difficulties
and
so noticeably an
age of faith as the twentieth centry. The distinguishing feature of our age
is
that
True,
we take more things on faith than any other age has ever done. we do not all of us believe with the fervour of our ancestors in God
or the DevU; for in the direction of orthodox religion, the sun seems to be nearing a very red western horizon; but in spite of this we believe more
which our reason cannot account, than did any monk in a medieval cloister. Moreover our faith is not merely a Sunday one; it is called into action in all the petty uses of our daily lives, and never more so than at the moments when our ancestors could afford to be most rathings, for
tional.
Look, for instance, at the medieval farmer going to market on his mare; he knew well enough the forces which propelled him thither: he knew not only how to control them but why certain acts would produce certain
Science, the
New
if
Religion
faster
429
he had but to use the same sort of
results: thus,
he wanted to go
stimulus which would appeal to any boy, had often appealed to himself,
indeed, as
boy and man; namely,

is
the stimulus of the stick.
And
because
intel-
humanity
animal the farmer understood, emotionally as well as
mare to the stimulus: he understood that he got to market faster because mare and boy alike do not want an unpleasant stimulus repeated. Further than this there was free wiU also; if the mare chanced to be a donkey, and valued her obstinacy more than she feared
lectually, the reaction of the
its
consequences, she could choose to endure a second and similar stimulus
rather than
mend
her pace.
it
No
mystery here, no exercise of faith on the
part of the farmer; for
has never been free-will but always determinism,
which has seemed a mystery to mankind and in need of an explanation. Now, compare with this picture, our own fate to-day: we are in a Ford car; we want to go faster, our foot presses the mechanism and we shoot forward; why? Honest folks say, "heaven knows"; meaning that they shoot forward in response to an act of faith: less honest folk will be learned and mechanical; use long names and clothe their ignorance, more or less considerable, behind them; admit, if pressed, that behind such long words looms the unknown and for them unknowable. Unless, in short, we understand the mechanics of motor cars in general, and of Ford cars in particular, we do not really know why the stimulus produces the result, we know nothing about the connections between our foot and the force it controls; or at least what we do know of this connection is precisely what was once believed about the connections between a prayer and the deity: ^pressing down the lever is a prayer to an unknown force, made in the perfect faith that the force must answer the prayer.
AU
that has happened, indeed,
is
that the faith has increased to a cer-
were not very often answered, and the forces to which they were offered had free will and used it, our new gods, though still unknown it is true, are gods in chains. And this is the triumph of faith, so to enslave the god, that the god is bound to obey. This is perfect faith, the faith which presses down a lever to command an unknown force, knowing that the force, however unknown, must obey. And this faith is present everywhere in our New Age of Faith; it permeates every detail of our lives, producing its own type of outlook to life itself and forcing, as we shall see, even science and scientists to bow beneath its yoke. Let us, then, consider a few more examples. Once upon a time the housewife could get first, light, then, heat from a simple enough source, her tinderbox; nothing more easily to be understood than this; no need for faith, nor for the mental attitude which a constant exercise of faith produces. But look at the same good lady to-day; what housewife understands the forces which she sets free, when she presses a button and summons electricity out of the gloom? What percentage of the population can follow the force or forces all the way from the glowing electric stove to the distant dynamo and beyond? Plainly a larger pertainty; for while the old prayers
430
centage has to take
is
it all
JOHN LANGDON-DAVIES
on
faith;
and the pressing of the
electric
button
just
such another prayer as the pressing of a Ford car control.

superstition of a sort in the older
True there was a greater amount of
who would do her work while she slept, in exchange for a few little kindnesses on her part; a belief which declined hundreds of years ago, as Bishop Corbett tells us in his great poem:
age of faith: the housewife, for instance, believed in fairies,
"Farewell rewards and fairies, Good housewives now may say;
For now foul
sluts in dairies
Do
But even
place:
fairies
if
fare as
weU
as they.
."
. .
the fabrics did not exist, at least the idea of
rational than the idea of the electric laundry washer,
what
on
is
electricity?
We
take
it
on
faith,
them was more which fills their whereas we took the
illusion.
The farmer,
her
leg, in
stition,
too, greased the post against
which the mare had grazed
order that the graze should heal more rapidly: this was super-
no doubt, but the farmer was wrong only because in some way or human and its matter susceptible to kind treatment; whereas to-day heaven, literally, only knows what the physicist thinks the post is made of, and though we need not consider the physicist superstitious when he talks of atoms and electrons, it is only by faith that we can accept his statements. This, therefore, is an age of faith; not necessarily, however, of superstition, for faith and superstition are
other he imagined that the post was
not the same.

Science has done more than this towards undermining our reason however; for
it
has taken the very ground from under our

that
still
feet,
and
substi-
tuted a nightmare myriad of atomic solar systems, so

of solid, they
tell us,
if
much
the reverse
the central sun in each were as big as the old-
fashioned one, which

planets within the
gives us light, in spite of the scientists, the outer
atom would be as far away as, or farther away than, Neptune. What chance of justifying that view of this grassy bank except
by
faith!
Of course somebody's reason comprehends

deed, but not our own; and
it,
discovers
its
truth in-
we cannot
forget that somebody's reason has
discovered a number of things, which did not turn out satisfactory in the
long run: faith in our brother's reason, indeed,

faith in
God:
it
In short,
if
is in no way different from may be the wrong brother, just as it may be the wrong god. we think for a moment of the world in which we live; a
world of X-rays, or radium and radio, of telephones and telegrams, of magnets and magnetos, of light and heat, as they are now conceived, of atoms, protons and electrons, of finite and unbounded space, of every how many of us can see such a sort of unknown and invisible force; world as credible by logic and reason alone? How much of all this must we not rather take on faith? Some people it is true can claim all these as
Science, the
New
Religion
431
the daily companions of their intellectual walks abroad, just as
could claim to "walk with

otherwise than by faith;
Enoch God" and therefore presumably, to know him but we can most of us make no such claims.
its
Ninety-nine
in the
men
spirit
out of every hundred approach science and
works
same
and through the same gateway

His. This
is
as their ancestors ap-
proached
God and
why we may
call the
twentieth century a
New Age of Faith. And the name is
not merely an idle whim;
it
is
used deliberately to
in
underline something, to emphasize certain tendencies, which need to be
underlined and emphasized.
Men
are to-day
more than ever
danger
of thinking that they use their reason; that they are guided and actuated
by
rational processes; that the days of blind faith
are over, and that

deliberateness
is
now
society
and unsupported guesses moves more and more towards scientific
and a
spirit of
"organized
common
is
sense."
Now
the truth
that even the

it
modern
attitude towards science
irrational to a degree
which
would be hard
first
to overestimate.
What
has happened to produce
this result?
In the
place,
we know
that
when white men have

them
first
appeared
and worshipped them and their attainments. Now among us to-day the gap in intellectual attainment and knowledge between the average man and the scientific specialist is far greater than the similar gap between a white explorer and a savage; and the average man has taken a leaf from the savage's book to use a metaphor strictly impossible, seeing that the savage is unlettered and exalts the scientist onto a high pedestal, whence he must receive the barbaric homage of people who do not really undersavages, the latter have often mistaken
for gods
among
stand or appreciate either his achievements or his possibilities.
In the second place,
men
are born worshippers
and only become rea-
sonable and rational after a long discipline; but the modern passion for
democratic education has given countless masses the implements with
which
gently.
approach science without the discipline to approach it intelliso the halls of science have been thronged with hosts who are only fit to worship and wonder, not to criticise and understand. And in the third place, life itself, for all our wealth and comfort, has become so unsatisfying, and the future, unconsciously at least, so menacing, that we need a new religion for moral support, and have found it in science. It is because these three tendencies are so important for the understanding of the relations between science and society that it seemed worth while expressing them in the title of this book: for many of the phenomena which we shall observe wiU be more clearly understood if we start by emphasizing the humanistic side of science. Too often people put science outside the universe of human emotions and desires, and raise it up on a pole like a cold-blooded super-reptile, even as the serpent in the wilderness was raised up; a rational entity apart and above. Just below, but still reptilian in coldness of blood and lack of emotion, are placed the
to
And
432
scientists,
futility
JOHN LANGDON-DAVIES
in
a strange group of statues, immovable above the flood of human and emotionalism. Science and scientists in this sense are companion this: they simply do not exist.
it
Science,
is
true,
is
the child of reason; but
it it
has to enter into the has what the movie
popular mind by the gateway of emotion: unless

public calls a heart appeal,
it
might as well not
exist.
This
is
a painful
it
and unpalatable
truth,
which
scientists in particular
wiU
find
difficult
to accept: nevertheless,
when we
study science in
its
social aspects,
we
must begin by accepting its limitations; we must not hope to find pure reason; we can at best hope not to find pure prejudice. Science, as we have said, is like an explorer suddenly come among savages; it is surrounded by men born to worship, and worship it must force itself to accept. "There is one science, and Haeckel is its prophet," has always been the typical formula used by the super-faithful in face of opposition. There is another characteristic of the New Age of Faith, which must be mentioned in these introductory sentences, and that is the amazing
humility of the average
man
in the presence
of science or scientists.
students
Humihty
is
the very hall-mark of religion:

tell
religion began, so
of social origins
us,
with the birth of humility;
when
the savage
stopped commanding mountains to move, and in a humbler
spirit
begged
some
deity to
move them
for him. Just such a humility characterizes the
New Age
of Faith, a humility born of the average man's sense of his
own
ignorance and insufficiency joined to an admiration of the priest of science,
which comes from quite a different cause. The priest of science, like all other priests the world over, tends in most cases to be ill paid for his services; his office has its drawbacks. Among more primitive races the priesthood was hedged about with so many restrictions and pains and penalties, that it took a man of character and ideaUsm to accept them all; with us the restrictions and pains and penalties are less picturesque than with savages, but they exist, usually in the form of low salaries or no salary at all; and as the average man thinks first of all of his salary, he
has a great admiration for the scientist, who is willing to work for so little. Thus, humility and admiration on the part of the average man have set a considerable halo about the head of the scientist; and halos are danger-
ous above
all
to the reason as they are apt to obscure clearness of vision
with their haze. Moreover the
man
in the street
assumes that no one who

willing to
professes and calls himself a scientist could possibly be anything else but
noble and wise; for otherwise

penalties, the
how would he be
undergo the
low
salary, the long education?
Alas! the
man
in the street, like
man anywhere
else,
seldom learns by
experience, or he would
know by
this
time that charlatans covet halos so

privilege of wearing
it
much
that they will always
pay a heavy price for the
one. Moreover the art of eating one's cake and having

to the priests of the lowly
is
known even
man-
Toda
tribe in India,
who
enjoy the privileges
of their office and yet avoid the penalties often in a most ingenious
Science, the
ner: thus
New
Religion
433
when complete segregation from women is demanded of them, and they are enjoined to "turn their back on every woman," they obey the letter of the law and receive their dulcineas wearing their garments back to front. Hence it does not follow that a Toda priest is a man of high ideals and truly called to his vocation; and the New Age of Faith also is remarkable, for the enormous number of pseudo-scientists masquerading in borrowed plumes, having sworn to turn then: back on the lucrative and easy Error, yet entertaining her with clothes reversed and thereby preserving a semblance of scientific truth. We shall examine these gentlemen of easy virtue later. We have them always with us because of the working of the laws of supply and demand, just as Billy Sundays and
Bryans supply a demand for a religion adulterated
palatable.
.
in order to
make
it
The New Age
of Faith. Such then
is
the subject matter of our book;
body of ascertained truth, and man, who wants that body to contain something different from what it does contain. Man wants practical results to-day; science offers a method which holds some promise of results in a distant future: man, being a baby, will not be happy till he gets what he wants, and to stop his crying pseudoscientists dish up a meretricious substitute for the truth. If man eats too much of it, he is hkely to be sick; and at any rate he will be better for a purge. This book is a purge. We begin with the collapse of an idol: the idol is the one worshipped by scientists a generation ago; it had an optimistic look about it, until it
the interplay between science, a
fell off its
pedestal; but now, though glued together as well as possible,
it
has a pessimistic look.
We
we
begin by discussing
why
this
should be and
we then
describe the different ways in which

fijid
man
has hoped hitherto to
control his destiny: can
the future
by
scientific
any hope, we ask, of his controlling it in knowledge of heredity, eugenics, and biology in
general?
In the next part
we
attack various authors
who have
misled the public

final part
about the facts of science on these subjects, and then in the

state the cold facts for
we
which science can really vouch, offering them as a basis for the understanding and solution of the social problems dependent
on them.
so in the end
we ask once more if man can save himself through knowledge from what looks sometimes Uke an inevitable doom. Whatever we may think about this problem, we will probably decide that man must first be saved from the pseudo-scientists. So much by way of introduction; one thing remains to be said. Though facts are facts, more or less, even on scientific subjects points of view are individual and subjective. If they are not precisely individual, they are conditioned to a large extent by the atmosphere in which a man has lived; it will therefore not be irrelevant to remind the reader that this is a book written by a European for Americans to read.
scientific
An
434
JOHN LANGDON-DAVIES
there are certain broad lines along which
Now,
think differently, or
perhaps
ently, at the present time,
all Europeans tend to would be more accurate to say, feel differfrom all Americans: that is not of course anyit
thing more than a generalisation, crude indeed, but with a vital truth in it. Though it would horrify Dr. Lothrop Stoddard, for example, it is nevertheless true that in some ways an Englishman might even find Spain and the Spanish view of life less foreign to him than America and the Ameri-
can view of
life.
How
is this
so?
is
In one of his remarkable essays Miguel de Unamuno, who tired in other places of contrasting Spain and Europe, says: "If
tell
never
am
to
you the
truth,
if
fidently as
and wounds me to see men marching as conthey marched on solid ground, some confident in the preit
hurts
judices
and anti-prejudices of
their
religious
beliefs,
others
slaves
of
science, other slaves of ignorance, slaves all of them. I
I would have them suffer, above all I would have them be men and not mere partisans of the party of progress." In those words we have perhaps, the expression not of a Spaniard in he is unicontrast to a European, not of the average man anywhere formly optimistic in all latitudes but of the European post-war intelligentsia as contrasted with the American. Though we may not wish you to share such an outlook, we do sometimes wish that you could understand why some people have it. That you cannot, is because Europe is povertystricken and disillusioned, while America is prosperous and optimistic. And the same contrasted pUght may cause misunderstanding between the readers and writer of this book, also. Let us see how. When the contemporary scientist turns his attention to the problem of human social destiny, he tends to a feeling of depression and gloom; but in America especially, that pseudo-science, which exists only to give the paying public what it wants, is, in some quarters, noticeably optimistic. One American club secretary, for example, described the address of a popular lecturer as having "a fine spirit of optimism about it that charmed the members, while it appealed to their sohd business sense in no uncertain way" and the possession of this businesslike optimism made of its
doubt,
I
would have them would have them despair,
owner, "a regular fellow, with a he-man's grasp of modem problems." If we in Europe were also prosperous and happy we would certainly voice something of the same idea; in fact we did so during the latter part
of the Victorian age,
best in the best of
when we were convinced

possible worlds; but as
that everything
was for the

in our
all
we
are not prosperous and
happy to-day, we can revenge ourselves by pointing out the mote

brother's eye.
This mote would seem to be the application of business methods and

ideals to science:
all
optimism appeals to
is
solid business sense, therefore
by
means
let
us have optimism at the expense of scientific accuracy and

the salesman's attitude to science.
its
common
sense; that
Optimism, of course, has
place,
and
that place
is
business, for the
Science, the
New
Religion
435
salesman must believe in his product so that he

that
it
may
convince everybody
truth,
is
better than
all
rivals;
but in science only the pseudo-scientist

is first
deals in such methods.
The
real scientist
concerned with the
and scarcely at all with its effect upon people's nerves and prejudices; and since he builds for all eternity and not for time, he would rather admit present ignorance, than have a false truth inevitably discovered in the
distant future.
And
the public
must learn
is
to wait for the truth until
it
has been dis-
covered, though
it
often so
much more
easy to read the scientific
romances of the Sunday magazine section. Moreover, the fact that disEurope once, not so long ago, had very much the optimistic club secretary's outlook on science, suggests that that outlook is not in itself a sufficient safeguard against future discords; and therefore there is something to be said for a devU's advocate of a less certain and dogmatic belief in progress; of the need for reserved judgments and admitted ignorance on many matters; and of the point of view expressed once more in the works of Miguel de Unamuno: "And since man is naturally intractable, and does not habitually thirst for the truth, and after being preached at for four hours usually returns to his inveterate habits, these busy inquirers, if they chance to read this, will return to me with the question: 'Well, but what solutions do you offer?' And I wiU tell them, once and for all, that if it is solutions they want, they can go to the shop opposite, for I do not deal in the article. My earnest desire has been, is and will be that those who read me should think and meditate on fundamental things, and
tracted
it
has never been to furnish them with thoughts ready-made."
To quote this at the beginning of so small a book must be humbly, as an ideal attempted, and not as a task accomplished.
ALEXIS CARREL
The Remaking of Man
In Man, the
seller. Its
Unknown (1935)
I resurrect another
now-forgotten best
biologist
author, Alexis Carrel (1873-1944)
was a French
who
came
to the United States in
1905 and pined
the Rockefeller Institute in
Prize in 1912. His ideas on man's fate were firm,
1909, where he had a distinguished career in research, winning a Nobel and for a scientist mildly
unorthodox. But he
losopher-preacher-publicist.
much
Here
dated,
is
and
his
an interesting example of the scientist turned phiHis enthusiasm for eugenics is now pretty whole tone is very far from that of Kenneth Keniston.
is
a Utopia indeed.
A CHOICE MUST BE
beings.
MADE AMONG THE MULTITUDE OF
CIVILIZED
HUMAN
have mentioned that natural selection has not played its part for a long while. That many inferior individuals have been conserved through the efforts of hygiene and medicine. But we cannot prevent the reproduction of the weak when they are neither insane nor criminal. Or destroy sickly or defective children as we do the weaklings in a litter of puppies. The only way to obviate the disastrous predominance of the weak is to develop the strong. Our efforts to render normal the unfit are evidently useless. We should, then, turn our attention toward promoting the optimum growth of the fit. By making the strong still stronger, we
could effectively help the weak. For the herd always profits by the ideas
We
and inventions of the

ities,
elite.
Instead of leveling organic and mental inequal-
we should
amplify them and construct greater men.
must single out the children who are endowed with high potentialand develop them as completely as possible. And in this manner give to the nation a non-hereditary aristocracy. Such children may be found in all classes of society, although distinguished men appear more
ities,
We
frequently in distinguished families than in others.

the founders
of
The descendants
the
of
American
Man,
the
civilization
may
still
possess
ancestral
From Alexis Carrel, pp. 296-308, 321-322.

436
Unknown (New York: Harper &
Brothers, 1935),
The Remaking
qualities.
of
Man
437
These qualities are generally hidden under the cloak of degeneration. But this degeneration is often superficial. It comes chiefly from education, idleness, lack of responsibility and moral discipline. The sons of very rich men, like those of criminals, should be removed whUe still infants from their natural surroundings. Thus separated from their family,
they could manifest their hereditary strength. In the aristocratic families of Europe there are also mdividuals of great vitality. The issue of the
Crusaders
is
by no means
ability that the
extinct. The laws of genetics indicate the problegendary audacity and love of adventure can appear again
is
in the lineage of the feudal lords. It
possible also that the offspring of
the great cruninals
who had
imagination, courage, and judgment, of the
heroes of the French or Russian Revolutions, of the high-handed business men who live among us, might be excellent building stones for an
enterprising minority.
As we know,
criminality
is
not hereditary
if
not
united with feeble-mindedness or other mental or cerebral defects.

potentialities
High
failed
are rarely encountered in the sons of honest,
intelligent,
hard-working
in business or
men who have had
ill
luck in their careers,

all
who have
have muddled along

artists,
their lives in inferior positions.
Or
among
gifted
peasants living on the same spot for centuries. However, from such
poets, adventurers, saints.
people sometimes spring
brilliantly
and well-known New York family came from peasants who cultivated their farm in the south of France from the time of Charlemagne to that of Napoleon. Boldness and strength suddenly appear in families where they have never before been observed. Mutations may occur in man, just as they do in other animals and in plants. Nevertheless, one should not expect to find among peasants and proletarians many subjects endowed with great developmental possibiHties. In
ventions. It rests
fact,
the
is
separation of the population of
a free country into different classes
not due to chance or to social con-
on a
solid biological basis, the physiological
and mental
peculiarities of the individuals. In
democratic countries, such as the United
States
last
and France, for example, any man had the possibility during the century of rising to the position his capacities enabled him to hold.
Today, most of the members of the proletarian class owe their situation to the hereditary weakness of their organs and their mind. Likewise, the peasants have remained attached to the soU since the Middle Ages, because they possess the courage, judgment, physical resistance, and lack
of imagination and daring which render them apt for this type of life. These unknown farmers, anonymous soldiers, passionate lovers of the soil, the backbone of the European nations, were, despite their great qualities, of a weaker organic and psychological constitution than the medieval barons who conquered the land and defended it victoriously against all invaders. Originally, the serfs and the chiefs were really born serfs and chiefs. Today, the weak should not be artificially maintained in wealth and power. It is imperative that social classes should be synonymous
438
ALEXIS CARREL
with biological classes. Each individual must rise or sink to the level for
which he
is fitted
by the quality of
his tissues
and of
his soul.
The
social
ascension of those
who
possess the best organs and the best minds should
be aided. Each one must have his natural place. Modern nations will save themselves by developing the strong. Not by protecting the weak. Eugenics
is
indispensable for the perpetuation of the strong.

its
great
However, in the most highly civilized nations reproduction is decreasing and yields inferior products. Women voluntarily deteriorate through alcohol and tobacco. They subject themrace must propagate
best elements.
selves to dangerous dietary regimens in order to obtain a conventional
slenderness of their figure. Besides, they refuse to bear children. Such a

defection is due to their education, to the progress of feminism, to the growth of short-sighted selfishness. It also comes from economic conditions, nervous unbalance, instability of marriage, and fear of the burden imposed upon parents by the weakness or precocious corruption of chil-
whose children would, in and who are in a position to bring them up intelligently, are almost sterile. It is the newcomers, peasants and proletarians from primitive European countries, who beget large families. But their offspring are far from having the value of those who came from the first settlers of North America. There is no hope for an increase in the birth rate before a revolution takes place in the habits of thinking and living, and a new ideal rises above the horizon.
to the oldest stock,
all
dren.
The women belonging

good
probability, be of
quality,
Eugenics
races.
may
exercise a great influence
upon
the destiny of the civilized
Of
course, the reproduction of
human
beings cannot be regulated as
The propagation of the insane and the feeble-minded, nevermust be prevented. A medical examination should perhaps be imposed on people about to marry, as for admission into the army or the navy, or for employees in hotels, hospitals, and department stores. However, the security given by medical examination is not at all positive. The contradictory statements made by experts before the courts of justice demonstrate that these examinations often lack any value. It seems that eugenics, to be useful, should be voluntary. By an appropriate education, each one could be made to realize what wretchedness is in store for those who marry into families contaminated by syphilis, cancer, tuberculosis, insanity, or feeble-mindedness. Such families should be considered by young people at least as undesirable as those which are poor. In truth, they are more dangerous than gangsters and murderers. No criminal causes so much misery in a human group as the tendency to insanity. Voluntary eugenics
in animals.
theless,
is not impossible. Indeed, love is supposed to blow as freely as the wind. But the belief in this peculiarity of love is shaken by the fact that many young men fall in love only with rich girls, and vice versa. If love is capable of listening to money, it may also submit to a consideration as practical as
that of health.
None should marry
human
being suffering from hidden
The Remaking
of
Man
439
hereditary defects.
Most of man's misfortunes are due to his organic and mental constitution and, in a large measure, to his heredity. Obviously,
those
who
are afflicted with a heavy ancestral burden of insanity, feeble-
mindedness, or cancer should not marry.

bring misery to another
No human
being has the right to
human
being.
Still less,
that of procreating children
destined to misery. Thus, eugenics asks for the sacrifice of
many
individuals.
This necessity, with which

pression of a natural law.
we meet
for the second time, seems to be the ex-
Many
living beings are sacrificed at every instant
by nature
those
fice,
to other living beings.
We know
the social and individual im-
portance of renunciation. Nations have always paid the highest honors to
who gave up
its
their lives to save their country.
The concept
of sacri-
of
absolute social necessity, must be introduced into the
mind
it
of
modem
man. Although eugenics may prevent the weakening of the
strong,
is
in-
sufficient to
determine their unlimited progress. In the purest races, in-
dividuals
do not rise beyond a certain level. However, among men, as among thoroughbred horses, exceptional beings appear from time to time. The determining factors of genius are entirely unknown. We are incapable
of inducing a progressive evolution of germ-plasm, of bringing about
propriate mutations the appearance of superior men.
We
by apmust be content
with facilitating the union of the best elements of the race through education
and certain economic advantages. The progress of the strong depends on the conditions of their development and the possibility left to parents of transmitting to their offspring the qualities which they have acquired in
the course of their existence.
Modern
society must, therefore, allow to all
a certain stability of
parents. It
life,
a home, a garden,
some
friends. Children
must be
reared in contact with things which are the expression of the mind of their
is
imperative to stop the transformation of the farmer, the
artisan, the artist, the professor,
and the
man
of science into
their
manual or
in-
tellectual proletarians, possessing
nothmg but
hands or
their brains.
The development
as a social unit,
is
of this proletariat will be the everlastmg
shame of
in-
dustrial civilization. It has contributed to the disappearance of the family
and
to the
weakening of
intelligence
and moral sense.
It
destroying the remains of culture. All forms of the proletariat must be
suppressed.
Each
individual should have the security and the stability re-
quired for the foundation of a family. Marriage must cease being only a
temporary union. The union of man and woman, like that of the higher anthropoids, ought to last at least until the young have no further need of protection. The laws relating to education, and especially to that of girls, to marriage, and divorce should, above all, take into account the interest
of children.
Women
should receive a higher education, not in order to
become
valuable
doctors, lawyers, or professors, but to rear their offspring to be
human
beings.
The
free practice of eugenics could lead not only to the
development of
in-
stronger individuals, but also of strains
endowed with more endurance,
440
telligence,
ALEXIS CARREL
and courage. These strains should constitute an aristocracy, from which great men would probably appear. Modern society must promote, by all possible means, the formation of better human stock. No financial or moral rewards should be too great for those who, through the wisdom of their marriage, would engender geniuses. The complexity of our civilization is immense. No one can master all its mechanisms. However, these mechanisms have to be mastered. There is need today of men of larger mental and moral size, capable of accomplishing such a task. The
establishment of
a hereditary
biological
aristocracy
through voluntary
eugenics would be an important step toward the solution of our present
problems.
Although our knowledge of

gives us the
all his
man
is still
very incomplete, nevertheless
it
power
to intervene in his formation,
and
to help
him unfold
potentiahties.
To shape him
according to our wishes, provided these
wishes conform to natural laws. Three different procedures are at our

disposal.
definite
The first comprises the physical and chemical factors, which cause changes in the constitution of the tissues, humors, and mind. The second sets in motion, through proper modifications in the environment,
mechanisms regulating
all
the adaptive
human
his
activities.
The
third
makes
of
use of psychological factors, which influence organic development or in-
duce the individual to buUd himself up by

these agencies
is
own
efforts.
The handling
difficult,
empirical,
and uncertain.
We
are not as yet
limit their effects to a single aspect even during childhood and youth. But they always produce profound modifications of the body and of the mind. The physical and chemical peculiarities of the climate, the soil, and the food can be used as instruments for modeling the individual. Endurance and strength generally develop in the mountains, in the countries where seasons are extreme, where mists are frequent and sunlight rare, where hurricanes blow furiously, where the land is poor and sown with rocks. The schools devoted to the formation of a hard and spirited youth should be established in such countries, and not in southern climates where the sun always shines and the temperature is even and warm. Florida and the French Riviera are suitable for weaklings, invalids, and old people, or normal individuals in need of a short rest. Moral energy, nervous equilibrium, and organic resistance are increased in children when they are
well acquainted with them.
They do not
of the individual.
They
act slowly,
trained to withstand heat

chilling rain, blizzards
northern countries.
and cold, dryness and humidity, burning sun and and fog in short, the rigors of the seasons in The resourcefulness and hardihood of the Yankee were
probably due, in a certain measure, to the harshness of a climate where, under the sun of Spain, there are Scandinavian winters. But these climatic
have lost their efficiency since civilized men are protected from inclemencies of the weather by the comfort and the sedentariness of their life.
factors
The
effect of the
chemical compounds contained in food upon physi-
The Remaking
ological
of
Man
activities is far
is
441
and mental
this
opinion on
tion
point
of
little
value, for
from being thoroughly known. Medical no experiments of sufficient dura-
given
have been made upon human beings to ascertain the influence of a diet. There is no doubt that consciousness is affected by the quantity and the quality of the food. Those who have to dare, dominate, and create should not be fed like manual workers, or like contemplative monks who,
endeavor to repress in their iimer self the We have to discover what food is suitable for human beings vegetating in offices and factories. What chemical substances could give intelligence, courage, and alertness to the inhabitants of the new city. The race will certainly not be improved merely by supplying children and adolescents with a great abundance of milk, cream, and all
in the solitude of monasteries,
turmoil of the secular passions.
known
vitamines.
It
would be most useful
to search for
new compounds
agility.
which, instead of uselessly increasing the size and weight of the skeleton
and of the muscles, would bring about nervous strength and mental
Perhaps some day a
scientist will discover
manufacture great men from ordinary children, in the same manner that bees transform a common larva into a queen by the special food which they know how to prepare. But it is probable that no chemical agent alone is capable of greatly improv-
how
to
ing the individual.
We
must assume
that the superiority of
any organic and
mental form
ditions.
is
due
And
that,
combination of hereditary and developmental conduring development, chemical factors are not to be sepato a
rated from psychological and functional factors.
We know that adaptive processes

more
effective
stimulate organs and functions, that the
way of improving tissues and mind is to maintain them in ceaseless activity. The mechanisms, which determine in certain organs a series of reactions ordered toward an end, can easUy be set in motion. As is well known, a muscular group develops by appropriate drill. If we wish
to strengthen not only the muscles, but also the apparatuses responsible
for their nutrition
and the organs which enable the body
to sustain a pro-
longed
more varied than classical sports are indispensable. These exercises are the same as were practiced daily in a more primitive life. Specialized athletics, as taught in schools and universities, do not give real endurance. The efforts requiring the help of muscles, vessels, heart, are lungs, brain, spinal cord, and mind that is, of the entire organism necessary in the construction of the individual. Running over rough ground,
effort, exercises
climbing mountains, wrestling, swimming, working in the forests and in

the
fields,
exposure to inclemencies, early moral responsibility, and a gen-
eral harshness of fife bring about the
harmony
of the muscles, bones, organs,
and consciousness. In this manner, the organic systems enabling the body to adapt itself to the outside world are trained and fully developed. The climbing of trees
or rocks stimulates the activity of the apparatuses regulating the composition of plasma, the circulation of the blood,
and the
respiration.
The organs
442
motion by
ALEXIS CARREL
responsible for the manufacture of red cells and hemoglobin are set in
life at
high altitudes. Prolonged running and the necessity of
eliminating acid produced
by the muscles
release processes extending over
the entire organism. Unsatisfied thirst drains water from the tissues. Fasting
mobilizes the proteins and fatty substances from the organs. Alternation
work the multiple mechanThe adaptive systems may be stimulated in many other ways. The whole body is improved when they are brought into action. Ceaseless work renders all integrating apparatuses stronger, more alert, and better fitted to carry out their many duties. The harmony of our organic and psychological functions is one of the most important qualities that we may possess. It can be acquired by means
from heat
to cold
and from cold
to heat sets at
isms regulating the temperature.
varying according to the specific characteristics of each individual. But
it
always demands a voluntary
effort.
Equilibrium
is
obtained in a large
needs, such as a
measure by
intelligence
and
self-control.
Man
and
naturally tends toward the

artificial
satisfaction of his physiological appetites
craving for alcohol, speed, and ceaseless change. But he degenerates
when
he
satisfies
these appetites completely.
He
must, then, accustom himself to
dominate
his hunger, his
need of
sleep, his sexual impulses, his laziness, his

etc.
fondness for muscular exercise, for alcohol,

are as dangerous as too
little. It is first
Too much
sleep
by training and
later
and food by a progrestraining, that
sive addition of intellectual motives to the habits gained
by
individuals
possessing strong
and well-balanced
activities
may be
de-
veloped.
A man's value depends on his capacity to face adverse situations rapidly and without effort. Such alertness is attained by building up many kinds of reflexes and instinctive reactions. The younger the individual, the easier is the establishment of reflexes. A child can accumulate vast treasures of unconscious knowledge. He is easily trained, incomparably more so than the most intelligent shepherd dog. He can be taught to run without tiring, to faU like a cat, to chmb, to swim, to stand and walk harmoniously, to observe everything exactly, to wake quickly and completely, to speak several languages, to obey, to attack, to defend himself, to use his hands dexterously in various kinds of work, etc. Moral habits are created in an identical manner. Dogs themselves learn not to steal. Honesty, sincerity, and courage are developed by the same procedures as those used in the formation of reflexes
that is, without argument, without discussion, without explanation. In a word, children must be conditioned.
Conditioning, according to the terminology of Pavlov,
is
nothing but
and modern form the procedures employed for a long time by animal trainers. In the construction of these reflexes, a relation is estabUshed between an unpleasant thing and a thing desired by the subject. The ringing of a beU, the report of a gun, even the crack of a whip, become for a dog the equivalent of the food he likes. A similar phenomenon takes place in man. One
the establishment of associated reflexes. It repeats in a scientific
The Remaking
of
Man
unknown
it is
443
does not suffer from being deprived of food and sleep in the course of an
expedition into an
country. Physical pain and hardship are easily
the success of a cherished enterprise.
supported
itself
if
they
accompany
Death
may
smile
when
.
associated with
some
great adventure, with the
beauty of
sacrifice,
.
.
or with the illumination of the soul that becomes im-
mersed in God.
The day has come

establish any program.
to begin the
work
of our renovation.
We
will not
For a program would
strifle living reality
in a rigid
armor.
It
would prevent the bursting forth of the unpredictable, and imarise
prison the future within the limits of our mind.
We
The
must
and move on.
We
to
must
liberate ourselves
from blind
technology and grasp the complexity and the wealth of our

sciences of Ufe have
own
nature.
humanity its goal and placed at its disposal the means of reaching it. But we are still immersed in the world created by the sciences of inert matter without any respect for the laws of our development. In a world that is not made for us, because it is born from an error of our reason and from the ignorance of our true self. To such a world we cannot become adapted. We will, then, revolt against it. We will transform its values and organize it with reference to our true needs. Today, the science of man gives us the power to develop all the potentialities of our body. We know the secret mechanisms of our physiological and mental activities and the causes of our weakness. We know how we have
transgressed natural laws.
in darkness. Nevertheless,
shown
We know why we
we
are punished,
why we
are lost
faintly perceive
through the mists of
dawn
path which
may
first
lead to our salvation.

is
For
its
the
time in the history of humanity, a crumbUng civilization

its
capable of discerning the causes of
decay. For the
first
time,
it
has at
disposal the gigantic strength of science. Will

this
we
utilize this
knowledge
and
power?
It is
our only hope of escaping the fate
great civilizations of the past.
Our
destiny
is
in our
common to all hands. On the new
road,
we must now go
forward.
LANCELOT LAW WHYTE

The Search for Understanding
Lancelot
ested, as
first
Law Whyte (1896many
) is
a well-known English
scientist, inter-
scientists are, in the questions of
man's condition. In
this
chapter of his Accent on Form, Whyte sets very clearly and soberly
in historical as well as psychological perspective the
kind of master problem we are concerned with in this book. Curiously, there is an undertone of cybernetics theory running through this chapter. The notion of man's capabilities as having been implicit in
his condition all along,
of the triggering
somewhat connotes mechanism in the genetic
the
new
biological discoveries
cell.
And
the particular
way
Whyte puts
his theory of the
human
faculty for progressive discovery

of automation.
rather suggests the
programming aspects
Perhaps the familiar interpretation of creation in terms of cause and effect may give way to a new concept whereby the universe may be seen as one vast control and communications process, equipped with feedback
mechanism and with its programme set view the old argument of whether the
lose
its
at the
moment
is
of creation. In this
running down will meaning, since the important question will not be energy itself but the means of communication by which energy is transferred, or the processing of information and goal direction. This concept, strangely enough, is
solar system
more consonant with

scientific
the mystic writings than with the traditional pragmatic
approach.
If all things exist in
one giant programme, and come
into being in time because of a built-in triggering mechanism, and all units of the machine are permanent, then the favorite apocalyptic phrase "was
and
is
forevermore" begins to take on meaning. Whyte

it
may
consider this
speculation rather a liberty on his thinking, but

to find that
should not be surprising
modern
scientists
may soon
construct a world-view based
on
the principles of cybernetics.
Lancelot
spectives, II
Law Whyte, Accent on Form. Edited by Ruth N. Anshen, World (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1954), pp. 1-13.
Per-
444
The Search
for Understanding
445
Mankind
Is
But
Capable of Acquiring Understanding Is Still Abysmally Ignorant

IS
WHAT KIND OF UNIVERSE

Is
it
THIS INTO
WHICH WE ARE BORN?

whose purpose
in putting us
the creation of an intelligible God,
here
we must try to discover? Or is the universe an assembly

Or does
of atoms following laws of chance,
and
mankind an accident?
the universe display an order in which every part
if
is
harmoni-
ously related to the whole,
we could but
see it?
one knows the answer to these questions. Nor do we know how much man to know. The mystery of the existence of the universe may forever lie beyond human comprehension. We are part of a cosmic process which cannot be
it is
No
possible for
compared with anything Yet it may be useful

because
else, since it is
unique.
to pose absolute questions
and
to consider
what
kind of answers might be given to them. The
human mind
set
has advanced
men
dared to ask questions that seemed strange because they
pointed toward
new problems. No
first
limit
can be
today to what the
human
mind may achieve tomorrow. Speculations on
the nature of the universe

to fabricate a tool.
may prove
as fertile as the
attempts of
Homo
Moreover no one can hve without

latent metaphysic
either conscious convictions or un-
conscious working assumptions regarding himself and the universe.
Those who claim they have none stiU work on rules of some kind. We are all conditioned by our experience. I have tried to express here my picture of the universe and of man. It is based on scientific knowledge interpreted and adjusted in the Ught of a personal judgment. For science is incomplete and its present ideas are unlikely to be final. The first step is to discover what meaning we can give to the question:
molds every human
life.
What kind
of universe
is
this?
We
ready
can ask of science:
Do
known
tell
us anything about
such fundamental laws of nature as are alits basic character? Do the known laws
go so deep as to reveal the actual form of the order of nature? The answer is that we cannot be sure. The known laws are in many respects imperfect and incomplete, and beneath them may lie some deeper and more general order than that which has already been discovered. So let us put our question in a narrower form and ask: What can science say about the fundamental laws of the three realms of matter, of life, and
of mind, or about their relations?
is
The answer is: nothing fundamental yet, on any of these points. There no satisfactory theory of the fundamental physical particles, of biological organization, or of mental processes, or of their interrelations. This may be regarded as rather disappointing fifteen generations after the foundation of exact science by GaUleo and Kepler. Many particular
446
facts
LANCELOT LAW WHYTE

and
partial rules are
if
known, but no truly fundmental principles have by that we mean principles which throw a clear light on particles, organisms, or minds, or on their relations. The known laws are probably only special cases of deeper laws still to be identified. On these great issues science is as yet silent, and no living person knows anything for certain. So far we know nothing fundamental about the universe
yet been discovered,
which we are born. There are moments when the depth of human ignorance is frightening. We then find ourselves looking into a bottomless abyss and we have to call on our last reserves of courage. What is cancer, that murders the body of a friend; or psychosis, that can destroy the mind; or death, that is for the individual the apparent end to everything? Other moments are less horrible, but perhaps lie even heavier on the conscience and will. When the gravest decisions have to be made, how Uttle knowledge we have of the proper criteria to use! In every realm the deeper our need, the more profound our ignorance proves to be. I remember two occasions on which this sense of human ignorance came to me with special force, once in a personal and once in a social situation. The first was when a close friend revealed features which I felt to be nearly psychotic. The friend seemed to be living in a world so far from reality that I was scared. Circumstances prevented me from passing on the responsibility to a psychiatrist. I became occupied with the problem: How did this condition develop? What roles had heredity, parental influence, and personal experience played? I collected what I thought might be the most relevant facts, but I was still unable to gain enlightenment and I fell back on the question: How far could scientific knowledge be of help? From this I reached a further question which startled me: In the entire history of mankind had anyone yet recorded and interpreted the reasonably full story of one human being, showing how all the main physical and mental characteristics had developed? I realized that if the proper study of mankind is man, this question was of unique importance. But the answer was: No. This had not even been attempted, in fact we had not the knowledge which it would require. There were some rather detailed studies of genius; there were stories of "identical" twins; there were medical and psychological case histories;* and there were some fairly detailed conventional biographies. But what I wanted was not yet feasible. All the biological and human sciences put together did not let us understand even the main features of the story of one human person. The art or science of biography had scarcely begun. For example, we had no idea how a set of genes actually influenced the development of adult anatomy and physiology; nor did we know why one child was generous and courageous and its brother or sister mean and cruel. So I could achieve neither intuitive nor scientific understanding of my
into
* Perhaps
the
psychobiological
to
studies
of
the
American psychologist Adolph
Meyer come nearest
what
was looking
for.
The Search
friend,
vitality
.
for Understanding
.
447
fiat,
grew richer and symptoms passed away. The other occasion was in London during the winter of 1941-42. Europe had fallen; the most hideous mania in the history of the West had seized power; the outlook for Britain was grim; the spiritual values of Western civilization had for long been decUning and then in wartime were nearly
I
how can
But
it
did not matter.
claim to
By divine know which? my
good
luck, or organic
friend's Ufe
the frightening
forgotten.
I
asked myself, was there any rhyme or reason in this?
Was
it
indeed
the decline of the West?
Was
there any philosophy of history or any
development of man No, there was not. Toynbee, for example, neglected the biological background of human development and the profound impact of science. The human race was here even more ignorant than in relation to physical and mental disease. No
scientific interpretation of the biological
and
social
that could
throw
light
on these
crises of civilizations?
man had
ever lived
who
could estimate the significance of his
own
culture
in the over-all story of
mankind. One could not even hope for any assurThis situation led to no happy ance in a period so short as one lifetime.
. .
symptoms are still present. On both of these occasions I had felt the vast hopelessness of human ignorance. And yet my mind rebelled at the idea that anything that could happen was completely beyond comprehension. I never doubted that there existed an order of nature which included man and was progressively acending; the frightening
cessible to
human
intelligence. It followed that all
human
distress occurred
some manner be transformed, though not necessarily removed, by a deeper understanding of that order. The point was to discover in any situation the optimum line of development, even if that was only to relax and to seem to do nothing. What mattered was to
within the natural order and must in
reduce the unnecessary frustrations and to enrich

experience.
life,
even
if
that could
only be done by accepting the inescapability in every individual
life
of bitter
Later
failure.
came
to reahze that
it
was no good taking particular
historical
situations too seriously. It
was
ridiculously early to
condemn man
as a
Homo
sapiens was the kind of species that could not Uve properly
its
in accordance with
capacities without a
way
it
of thinking appropriate
to the particular stage of
The present
at any time. development through the Renaissance, the Reformation, the Enlightenment, and the growth of science and technology, and the modern world had not yet found
development which
had reached
attitude of the
West was the
result of a long
a system of convictions appropriate to an age of science.
naive reliance
on an incomplete and unbalanced science was no substitute for what Christianity had meant to an earlier time. To the biologist or anthropologist the malaise of the twentieth century was in no way surprising. Homo sapiens was a biologically immature species that had not yet fully developed the latent capacities of its brain, and might be going through a crisis which
448
was an inescapable phase of
derstand rather than to
If
its
LANCELOT LAW WHYTE

social development.
We
should try to un-
condemn without proper

it is
trial.
one
is
able to accept this long view,
human
understanding rather
fact
is
than
human we
ignorance which
lived
is
astonishing.
The remarkable
managed
not that
no man has ever

edge
derstanding at
all,
who
has possessed the kind of fundamental knowlto achieve
so badly need, but that the race has
any un-
and how much
it
has gained.
are certainly extraordinary. The interbreeding species marked by an average hereditary equipment similar to our own and by characteristic social habits, emerged from its ancestral Homo stock between four hundred and one hundred thousand years ago, and may
Here the
facts
Homo
sapiens,
only have developed the faculty for articulated speech around

years back.
fifty
thousand
Making allowance
it
for prior types of
Homo
that disappeared
we can
at
regard
as certain that neither five
hundred thousand years ago, nor
any
earlier time,
was there
either
on
the earth or elsewhere in the solar
system any organic species possessing any knowledge based on the units
of thought which
we
call ideas.
was no articulated speech, or spoken sounds broken no thought communicated by dividing it into distinct and significant parts and separating it from immediate organic situations; no systematic conceptual understanding. Many highly complex systems of symbolic communication were already in use, for example in the dance of bees and the song of birds. But these did not involve units of thought detached from immediate activities. There was as yet no germ of intellectual understanding of the relatedness of things in an objective world. The potentiality for this was already present, say four hundred thousand years ago, in the hereditary equipment of the emerging species Homo sapiens, but what was to prove the outstanding characteristic of mankind had not yet been manifested. Then very slowly, though perhaps in minor rushes and relapses, starting from this absolute ignorance and without the guidance of any conscious aim, the human species began its incomparable adventure of discovery and self-discovery. Discovery of external nature went hand in hand with the
that time there
At
up
into meaningful units;
discovery of
human
faculties, the arts of action
developing in parallel with

hereditary make-up.
the art of thought, the entire process resulting in the progressive maturing of capacities which had been latent in the
human
From
prehuman
script,
gabbling, gesture,
and dance there developed
rather abruptly a hundred or
first language, then fifty thousand years and finally the culture that blossoms in Newton and Beethoven, This is no less than a miracle. For this cumulative process of the reali-
perhaps ago
starting
zation of
human
made
potentialities
of the pervasive continuity of natural process. In

still
took place without conscious design, as part some sense which has
to be
clear natural
law guided the development of man. This

it
flowering of latent capacities must have been implicit in the condition of
man
all
along, though
it
required a favorable environment to bring
out.
The Search
for Understanding
449
We may
consider this a miracle, but it simply proves the richness of the "unconscious knowledge" and biological assets of the species, or of the
laws which governed the process.

I shall call the essence of this characteristically human process which works mainly cumulatively and unconsciously, dis-covery, including under that term the simultaneous and interacting aspects of the external discovery of nature and the internal discovery of the latent capacities of human nature. All creation, imagination, and invention are aspects of this
dis-covering of the new.
This historical fact of

significant
of past
human discovery is more astonishing and more human ignorance. For without the fact and the experience discovery we could not even have the idea of ignorance. Our awarethan
is
ness of our ignorance

is
evidence of our faculty for discovery.

absolute there
vitality,
The abyss
in
not bottomless,
we have made a start. Even when human ignorance was stiU

when
was present
organic nature a formative process, a surplus

atory, or inventive instinct which,
a creative, explor-
the time came, would shape in would bring enlightenment. This organic faculty for achieving understanding from ignorance is the one unchaUengeably favorable fact about man. He can grown in understanding.
human
brains and minds ideas that
This fact
is
neither trite nor
trivial.
None
of the world religions has ade-
quately recognized the supreme importance of this
human
on
faculty for
progressive discovery. Science does, and on this account alone can speak
with authority
the divine,
when
these long issues of the
human
past
this planet are
in question. In his ability to
grow
in understanding
man seems
to touch
and yet here it is unconscious processes which provide the foundation, and science which takes up the service and protection of this great faculty. What irony that the unconscious and science should be the servants of the noblest element in man! We know very little about the unconscious mental processes which provide the basis for the creative, imaginative, and inventive faculties. Like many other organic processes they work, and perhaps even work best, without our knowing how. But it is clear that no arbitrary accidents or merely occasional tours de force can account for the inexorable continuity which, transcending all rhythms and setbacks, has led from the earliest members of the species to where we are now. And since the individuals who achieved the myriad steps knew little or nothing about what they were doing, the main credit must go to unconscious processes. In retrospect we can observe that in its scarcely conscious search for understanding the species invented for itself one supremely valuable kind of instrument: ideas. Their value was not discovered as the result of any
deliberate investigation. Ideas arose as a residue of barely conscious mental
processes,
doubtless
associated with processes
occurring in the brain,
but not yet understood. All

process in the brain shapes
we can say new forms of
is
that
some kind
of formative
activity
and response within the
450
plastic records of past experience,
LANCELOT LAW WHYTE

and that
in certain circumstances these
new
that
unified forms or clarified patterns

is,
become
the object of our attention,

for himself, though
become conscious
is
as "ideas."
This view of ideas implies that
man makes them
by
methods of which he
universal intelligible
unaware. Plato's conception of eternal Ideas or Forms was different. He imagined that the Demiurge,
our world, desiring that
all
or Skilled
Workman who made
created things
real
should be as like Himself as possible, took from His
own
world the
Models (or Forms, or Ideals) representing the generic idea of everything, and used them to make Copies in the world of appearances. Thus the
transient world of
Plato's
phenomena came
into existence.
image has been of great importance for the human mind, for it contained the fertile thought that within every changing appearance there lies an unchanging factor, in medieval language the form that makes every particular thing what it is. But today we who accept the outlook of science enjoy an even more powerful image: we see the creative process not in some divine act in the past, but in the continual daily working of our own minds, even the humblest. For every person over one or two years of age and not mentally defective is perpetually shaping new patterns of thought, new httle ideas or hunches, every day of his life. We have brought the formative process back into nature and into ourselves, and here we are wiser than Plato. Mankind forges its own instruments for the voyage of discovery. But the major instruments, the new primary ideas, take a long time to perfect, much longer than an Egyptian pyramid for example. The largest pyramids may have taken some twenty years to build, but in the two thousand five hundred years or hundred generations of Western thought only some ten or twenty primary ideas have been produced! I am here leaving aside ideas related to subjective experience such as God, Beauty, Goodness, and Justice, and considering only those ideas which serve directly as instruments for understanding the universe. Here are some of those which seem to me most important. Where possible I have added the name of a person who either gave precision to the idea or greatly extended its
use.
NUMBER
SPACE TIME
Pythagoras
Euclid
ATOMS ENERGY
ORGANISM MIND UNCONSCIOUS MIND
historical process
statistics
Democritus
Aristotle
Freud
(form) (structure)
The Search
for Understanding
45
These twelve ideas can be regarded as covering all the primary insights which the Western mind, and that means human systematic reason, has yet had into the nature of the universe. These are the main instruments of intellectual understanding which the race possesses today. Each has gradually grown clearer and more definite and has been stabilized by persistent use. If we had to send a summary of scientific knowledge by radio to a distant star these would contain the nucleus of the most reliable information.
ERWIN SCHRODINGER
Erwin Schrodinger (1887trian physicist.
),
Nobel Prize winner
in
1933,
is
an Aus-
He
is
interested in
some
of the wider aspects of the science
he practices so skillfully, but he is no apostle or preacher. The essay that follows seems to me a very temperate and reasonable statement of the kind of "relativism" a scientist true to his training has to embrace. But I incline to the belief that to deny to science complete "objectivity" as Schrodinger does is really another way of saying that science does not aim at Truth,
Reality, etc.
all
needing capital
letters
which
is itself
a way of saying
that science cannot be a religion.
THERE
through the
ZOLA'S, THAT ART IS NATURE SEEN temperament L'art c'est la nature vue au trovers d'un temperament. Can the same be said of science? The question is an important one, because it affects a fundamental claim which is nowadays frequently put forward in the name of science. Unlike painting and literature and music, which are subjective ways of apprehending reality and,
IS
WELL-KNOWN SAYING OF
of a
medium
therefore, liable to alter with the alteration of the cultural environment,
science
is
said to furnish us with a
body of
is
truth
which has not been molded
by the human temperament, and

far
is this
accordingly objective and stable.
How
true?
it
Before answering the question directly
will
a distinction between two groups of sciences.
On
be necessary to make the one hand we have

other, those that deal
what are
with the
called the "exact" sciences and,
on the
human
spirit
and
its
activities.
To
the latter group belong such
sciences as history, sociology, psychology, etc.
Dr. James
From Erwin Schrodinger, Science and the Human Temperament. Translated by Murphy and W. H. Johnston (New York: W. W. Norton, 1935). Re-
printed by Dover Publications under the title Science Theory and Man (1957), pp. 81-105. This essay is expanded from an Address to the Physics and Mathematics Section of the Prussian Academy of Science, February 18, 1932, and freely rendered by Dr. James Murphy.
452
453
Now
it is
obvious, I think, that the body of truth which these humanist
sciences put forward cannot claim to be entirely objective. Let us take his-
tory as an instance. Although
we demand
of the historian that he will keep

if
to the objective truth of the events
he describes, yet
he
is
to
be some-
thing
more than a mere
chronicler, his
work must go beyond
the discovery
and narration of bald fact. Therefore, the selection which he makes from raw material at his disposal, his formulation of it, and his final presentation must necessarily be influenced by his whole personality. And indeed
the
we
he
gladly forgive the subjective intrusion of the historian into the material
is
dealing with, provided we feel the touch of a strong personality weaving for us an interesting human pattern from the bald events of history.
Indeed,
it is
here that scientific history begins, while the work of the conis
scientious chronicler
looked upon as merely furnishing

all
its
raw
material.
Similar remarks apply to
those sciences that deal with
conduct.
One and
all,
the presentation of their truths
life and must necessarily show

is
human
the active influence of the
human temperament. Of
this
it
course there
always
the ideal of maintaining the greatest possible degree of objectivity in the
procedure of these sciences, and a work in

considered scientific or otherwise insofar as
branch of study wiU be

falls
remains faithful to or
away from the

have
deal
this they
objective ideal.
Yet there
is
not one of those humanist

it.
sciences that has not a certain artistic element in
And
in so far as they
come under
Zola's description.
The
object with which they
is always vue au trovers d'un temperament. Let us now turn to the "exact" sciences. From the procedure followed in these sciences everything subjective is excluded on principle. Physical
Science belongs essentially to this category.

subjective intrusion of the researcher
is
From
all
physical research the
rigorously barred so that the
purely objective truth about inanimate nature

this truth is finally stated
it
may be arrived at. Once can be put to the test of experiment by anybody and everybody all the world over, and always with the same result. Thus far Physics is entirely independent of the human temperament, and this is put
forward as
its
chief claim to acceptance.
Some
of the
champions of Physical
Science go so far as to postulate that not only must the individual human mind be ruled out in the ultimate statements of physical research, but that
human aspect as a whole must also be excluded. Every degree of anthropomorphism is rigorously shut out; so that at least in this branch of science man would no longer be the measure of aU things, as the Greek
the
Sophists used to maintain.

Is that
claim entirely true?

it is
To
a greater degree than in the case of any

it
other science
true.
But
I think
goes too
far.
We may
readily grant
that a physical experiment, say, for simplicity's sake, a counting of stars,

is
New York
filled.
independent of the question whether it is carried out by Mr. Wilson in or Fraulein Mueller in Berlin. The result will always be the
ful-
same, provided of course that the requisite technical conditions are
454
ERWIN SCHRODINGER
is
The same
fore
that
it
true of
all
established experiments in Physics.
The
first
and
indispensable condition that
we demand
of any process of experiment be-
can be admitted into the regular procedure of physical research is reproduce the same results. We do not consider an experiment worthy of scientific consideration or acceptance unless it can
it
will invariably
fulfill this
condition.
Now,
it is
from the immense mass of individual
results
accruing from such reproducible experiments that the whole texture of Physical Science is woven. And these classical results are the only raw
material allowed to be used in the further development of scientific truth.
Therefore, as no other source of knowledge than that of exact experiment

is
admitted here,
its
it
would seem
But
at first sight that Physical Science is

its
wholly
within
rights in putting
forward
claim to be the authentic bearer of
absolutely objective truth.

siderations
in estimating that claim certain further con-
must be taken
into account.
and exclusively those by means of experiment. But consider the number of experiments which have actually furnished the data on which the structure of Physical Science is based. That number is undoubtedly very large. But it is infinitesimal when compared with the number of experiments that might have been carried out, but never actually have been. Therefore, a selection has been made in choosing the raw material on which the present structure of science is built. That selection must have been influenced by circum-
The
legitimate data of Physical Science are always
arrived at
stances that are other than purely scientific.
And
its
thus far Physical Science
cannot claim to be absolutely independent of

has to be
if
environment.
Let us take some of the factors that come into play when a selection made from the experiments that offer themselves as possibilities
to undertake a
somebody wishes
work
of research in
some new
direction.
Obviously there
is first
and foremost the question of what experiments are
practical in the circumstances. Certain experiments
demand complicated
and expensive apparatus, and the means of securing these are not always at hand. No matter how promising these experiments may be, they have to be set aside by reason of the high expense which they would entail. Another group of possible experiments is set aside for entirely different and more subjective reasons. They suggest themselves to the mind of the scientist, but for the moment he finds them uninteresting, not only because they are not related directly to the undertaking that he has on hand but also because he may think he already knows the results to which they would lead. And even if he feels that he cannot exactly forecast such results, he may find them of secondary importance at the moment and thus neglect them. Moreover, there is the consideration that if he were to take all such results into consideration he would not know what to do with their immense number. Add to this the fact that our minds are not of infinite compass in their range of interests. Certain things absorb our attention for the moment. The result is that there must always be a large number of alternative experiments and very practical experiments

too
455
all,
which we do not
think of at
simply because our interest
is
at-
tracted in other directions.
All this leads to the inevitable conclusion that
we cannot
close the
door to the entry of subjective factors in determining our scientific policy and in giving a definite direction to our Une of further advance. Of course it goes without saying that any advance which we undertake is immediately dependent on the data here and now at our disposal. And these data represent results that have been achieved by former researchers.
These results are the outcome of selections formerly made. Those selections were due to a certain train of thought working on the mass of experimental data then at hand. And so if we go back through an indefinite series of
stages in scientific advance,
we
shall finally
come
to the
first
conscious
attempt of primitive
man
to
understand and form a logical mental picture
of events observed in the world around him.
These first observations of nature by primitive man did not arise from any consciously constructed mental pattern. The image of nature which primitive man formed for himself emerged automatically, as it were, from the surrounding conditions, being determined by the biological situation, the necessity of bodily sustenance within the environment, and the whole interplay between bodily Ufe and its vicissitudes on the one hand and the
on the other. I mention this point in order to forestall the objection that from the very start a compulsory element might be attributed to the overpowering sway of objective facts. This is certainly not true, the origin of science being without any doubt the very anthropomorphic necessity of man's struggle for life. It often happens that a certain idea, or group of ideas, becomes vital and dominant at a certain juncture and illuminates with a new significance certain fines of experiment which hitherto have been considered uninteresting and unimportant. Thirty years ago, for instance, nobody was particularly interested in asking how the thermal capacity of a body changes with the temperature, and scarcely anybody dreamed of placing any importance on the reaction of thermal capacity to extremely low temperatures. Perhaps some old crank, entirely devoid of ideas, might have been interested ui the question or maybe a very brilliant genius. But once Nernst forward his famous "third law of thermodynamics" the whole situaput tion suddenly altered. The Nernst theorem not only embodied the surnatural environment
prising prediction that the thermal capacity of all bodies at an extremely
low temperature would tend toward zero, but it also proved that all chemical equilibria could be calculated in advance if the heat of reaction at a certain temperature were known, together with the thermal capacity of the reacting bodies, down to a sufficiently low temperature.
Much
the
same
sort of thing has taken place in regard to the so-called
elasticity constants.
The
physicist
had
hitherto ignored the significance of

left
the numerical value of these constants and
the whole question to the
interest of the practical engineer, the bridge-builder,
and the seismologist.
456
But when Einstein and,
ature,
after
ERWIN SCHRODINGER
him, Debye, put forward a general theory
low grades of temperwhereby the temperature at which the lowering of the thermal capacity first became manifest is shown to be related to the elastic properties of the material in question, this absolutely novel and unexpected connection aroused a new interest which led to widespread experimental researches in this domain, extending it, for example, to crystals in the
for the lowering of the thermal capacity of bodies at
various crystallographic directions,
etc., etc.
Another instance, which now appears almost as an example of tragic neglect, is the experiment in the diffraction of light which was carried out
by Grimaldi (1613-1663). This
Italian scientist discovered that the
of a wire formed by intercepting a
beam
of light
shadow coming through a slit
from a distant source does not show the characteristics that might have been expected; that is to say, it is not a simple dark band across a light field. The dark band is a complex affair. It is bordered by three colored stripes whose respective widths become smaller toward the outside, while the inner part of the shadow is traversed by an odd number of lightcolored lines parallel to the borders' of the shadow. This experiment, which was carried out long before Huygens' wave theory and Newton's corpuscular theory of light were put forward, was the first experiment of its kind to prove clearly and definitely that rays of light do not travel strictly in straight lines and that the deviation from the direct line is very closely
connected with the color
In our day this
is
or, as
we should
say to-day, with the wave-length.
considered a fundamental fact not only for the under-
standing of the propagation of light but also in our general scientific picture
of the physical universe. If
aldi's
we were
to express the significance of
Grim-
experiment in contemporary terms,
we should
say that Grimaldi
had made the first demonstration of that indeterminacy in Quantum mechanics which was formulated by Heisenberg in 1927. Until the time of Young and Fresnel, Grimaldi's observations attracted little or no attention and nobody attached any great importance to them. They were regarded as pointing to a phenomenon which had no general interest for science as such, and for the following one hundred and fifty years no similar experiments were carried out, though this could have been done with the simplest and cheapest material. The reason for this was that, of the two theories of light which soon afterward were put forward, Newton's corpuscular theory gained general acceptance against the wave theory of Huygens, and thus the general interest was directed along a different path. Following this path, other interesting experiments were carried out which were of practical importance and led to correct practical conclusions, such as the laws of reflection and refraction and their application to the construction of optical instruments. We have no right to-day to say that Newton's corpuscular theory was the wrong one, though it was the custom
for a long time to declare
it
so.
The
latest conclusions of
modern
science
conform neither
to the corpuscular theory
nor to the wave theory. Ac-

cording to
457
modem scientific conclusions, the two theories throw light upon two quite different aspects of the phenomenon, and we have not been able up to the present to bring these two aspects into harmony with each other. The interest which was taken in the one side of the question for a long time absolutely submerged any interest that might have been taken in the
other. Referring to the history of experimental research into the nature of
and various theories that arose at one time or another from this Mach remarks "how little the development of science takes or rather the place in a logical and systematic way." A very similar
light,
research, Ernst
reverse
case occurred with the theories relating to the constitution of
matter. In the case of matter, the corpuscular theory
was the one
to hold
the field
up
to very recent days, because
it is
much more
difiicult to
bring
forward experimental confirmation of the wave theory in regard to matter

than was the case in regard to
light.
Following Kirchoff
we have become accustomed
to
admit that science
is
ultimately concerned with nothing else than a precise
and conscientious description of what has been perceived through the senses. The dictum of this eminent theorist has often been quoted as a prudent warning to all
those
who engage
it
in the construction of theories.
From
the epistemological
undoubtedly contains a good deal of truth; but it is not in accord with the psychology of research. It is completely erroneous to believe that anybody attaches any interest whatsoever to the quantitative
point of view
laws that are discovered during experimental research
//
we
take these
laws by themselves, such as the
vapor pressure of some organic compounds or the specific heat of the elements depends in this way or that way on temperature. Our interest in any investigation
fact, for instance, that the
of this type
is
due
to
some
further consideration which
we
intend to attach
to the result, that
we
try to get
hold
of.
And
here
it is
immaterial whether
this anticipated consideration, or line of thought,
be ahready existent in the shape of a clearly defined and elaborate theory or whether it be still in the embryonic stage of being a mere vague intuition in the brain of some
genius in experimental research.
The psychological truth of what I have said becomes manifest the moment we are faced with the difficulty of explaining to the layman just why one is carrying out this or that investigation. When I speak of the layman here I do not mean the term to apply just to those people who do
not give their minds to the consideration of impractical things, either because they are not interested in them or because they are overwhelmed by everyday matters. I mean the term to extend much wider. In the circle of a learned society which unites representatives of the various branches
of science and literature in order to cooperate in research work, every day one finds one's self a layman in the sense quoted above. Each of one's
fellow-members finds himself to be a layman in the same sense. For after having attended a lecture given by a colleague he frequently cannot
help asking himself (disrespectful though
it
may sound):
what, in the
458
ERWIN SCHRODINGER
of Providence,
is
name
is
the fellow
of course not really

I
meant
offensively.
making such a fuss about? That attitude But it is a very good illustration
of the point that

is
am
needed
of
some
and
in order that a
making, namely, that quite a special trend of interest man may readily admit the extreme importance
the unimportance of others
of the multitudinous questions
that can be put to nature. In the case just
mentioned
(let
us say
it
was
may happen that a colleague comes up to you and says: "Look here, do tell me why that particular thing interests you. To me it seems quite immaterial whether, etc., etc. ." Then you will endeavor to explain. You will try to show all the connections your theme has with others. You will try to defend your own interest in the matter. I mean that you will try to defend the reason why you are interested. Then you will probably notice that your feelings are much more ardently aroused in this
your
own
lecture)
it
discussion than they were during the lecture
itself.
And you
will
become
aware of the fact that only now, in your discussion with your colleague, have you reached those aspects of the subject that are, so to speak, nearest
to your heart.
In passing, I
may
say that here
we meet one
of the strongest arguments
in favor of bringing together the representatives of the
remote branches of
science or of literature into associations for collaboration in research work.
These associations are helpful and recuperative in compelUng a man to reflect now and again on what he is doing and to give an account of his aims and motives to others whom he considers his equals in a different province of the realm of knowledge. Therefore, he will take the trouble to prepare a proper answer to their questions. For he will feel himself responsible for their lack of comprehension and will not haughtily look upon it as their fault instead of his own. But though it be granted that the special importance of an investigation cannot of course be grasped without knowing the whole trend of research that had preceded it and had attracted attention to that particular line of experimentation, it might still be seriously questioned whether this fact really points to a highly subjective element in science. For on the other side it might be said that scientists all the world over are fairly well agreed as to what further investigations in their respective branches of study would be appreciated or not. One may reasonably ask whether that is not a proof
of objectivity.
Let us be definite. The argument applies to the research workers all the world over, but only of one branch of science and of one epoch. These
men
one.
practically
form a
unit. It is a relatively small
community, though
it
widely scattered, and modern methods of communication have knit
into
The members read
the
same
periodicals.
They exchange
ideas with
one another. And the result is that there is a fairly definite agreement as to what opinions are sound on this point or that. There is professional enthusiasm about any progress that may be made, and whatever particular success may be achieved in one country, or by one man or group of men,

will
459
this
be hailed as a
common
triumph by the profession as a whole. In

is
respect international science
like international sport
and
also, as
nothing
immediately
utilitarian is
expected from either, they both belong to the
higher and detached realm of
human
activity.
is
Now,
but
it
the internationality of science
a very fine and inspiring thing;

slightly suspicious as
just renders this ''consensus
omnium"
an argu-
Take the case of international sport. It is perfectly true that we have conditions which secure an objective and impartial registration of how high So-and-So jumped or how far So-and-So threw the discus. But are not the high jump and the discusthrowing largely a question of fashion? And is it not the same with this or
in favor of the objectivity of science.
ment
that line of experiments in physics?
In public sport we are acquainted only with certain kinds of games that have been developed, largely because of some current interest or because of racial tastes or climatic conditions; but we have no grounds for saying that these furnish a thoroughly exhaustive or objective picture of what
human muscular
small
ability is
capable
of.
And
in science
we
is
are acquainted
infinitesimally
only with a certain bulk of experimental results which
compared with the results that might have been obtained from other experiments. Just as it would be useless for some athlete in the world of sport to puzzle his brain in order to initiate something new for he would have little or no hope of being able to "put it over," as the saying is so too it would, generally speaking, be a vain endeavor on the part of some
scientist to strain his imaginative vision
toward
initiating a line of research
hitherto not thought of.
The
incidents that I have already quoted
from
the history of science are proof of that point.
Our civilization forms an organic whole. Those fortunate individuals who can devote their lives to the profession of scientific research are not merely botanists or physicists or chemists, as the case may be. They are men and they are children of their age. The scientist cannot shuffle off his mundane coil when he enters his laboratory or ascends the rostrum in his
morning his leading interest in class or in the laboratory but what was he doing the afternoon and evening before? He attends pubHc meetings just as others do or he reads about them in the press. He cannot and does not wish to escape discussion of the mass of ideas that are constantly thronging into the foreground of public
lecture hall. In the
may be
his research;
interest, especially in
our day. Some
scientists are lovers of
music,
some
read novels and poetry, some frequent the theaters.
be interested in painting and sculpture. And if any one should beheve that he could really escape the influence of the cinema, because he does not care for it, he is surely mistaken. For he cannot even walk along the street without paying attention to the pictures of cinema stars and advertisement tableaux. In short, we are all members of our cultural environment. From all this it follows that the engaging of one's interest in a certain subject and in certain directions must necessarily be influenced by the enwill
Some
460
vironment, or what
ERWIN SCHRODINGER
may be
In
called the cultural milieu or the spirit of the

all
age in which one
lives.
branches of our civiUzation there
is
one
general world outlook dominant and there are numerous Unes of activity which are attractive because they are the fashion of the age, whether in
politics or in art or in science.
These also make themselves
felt in
the
"exact" science of physics.
can we perceive and point out such subjective influences work? It is not easy to do so if we confine ourselves to the contemporary perspective; because there are no coordinates of reference within the same cultural milieu to show how far individual directions are influenced by the spirit of the milieu as a whole. At the present moment practically one culture spans the whole earth, and so the development of science and art in different countries is to a great extent influenced by one and the same general trend of the times. For that reason it is best to take historical instances to elucidate what I have said, because in the past organic cultures were confined to much smaller territories and there was a greater variety of them at the same time on this planet. Grecian culture is a classic example of how every line of activity within the one cultural milieu is dominated by the general trend of the culture itself. In Hellenic science and art and in the whole Hellenic outlook on
actually at
life
Now how
we can immediately
discern a
common
characteristic.
The
clear, trans-
parent and rigid structure of Euclidian geometry corresponds to the plain,

simple,
and limited forms of the Grecian temple. The whole structure of

is
the temple
small, near at hand, completely visible within the range of
the onlooker's eye, losing itself

either in
its
extension or form. This
Gothic architecture. So, too, in

infinite is scarcely
nowhere and escaping the eye nowhere is something quite different from the case of Greek science the idea of the
of a limitless process frightened
understood.
The concept
the Greek, as
tortoise.
is
evidenced in the well-known paradox of Achilles and the
definition of the irrational
interested itself in the Dedekind number, although the idea of the irrational was already present in the synoptic form of the diagonal of the square or of
The
Hellenic
mind could not have
the cube.
Greek drama,
especially that of the earlier epochs,

to ours.
is
absolutely static
when compared
There
is little is
or no action.
We
are presented with
a tragic situation and the action
limited to the decision
which a human
being makes in certain definite circumstances. So also in Greek physics the
dynamic
is
missing.
single subsequent phases, of asking at
would happen in have found this sort of

sense.
The Greek did not dream of analyzing motion in its any moment for the cause of what the next moment, as Newton did. The Greek would
analysis petty
and incompatible with
his esthetic
He
thought of the path along which a body
moved
as a whole, not as
something that develops but as something that is already there in its entirety. In looking for the simplest type of motion the rectiUnear one was
excluded because the straight line
is
not perceptible in
its
entire range

rectilinear
461
motion
is
never completed, can never be grasped as a whole.
By
observing the star-strewn heavens the Greek was helped over his
in regard to the concept of motion.
is
dlfificulty
a circular path uniformly traversed
ment of a body, and that by a greater central body.
it is
He concluded from this that most perfect and natural movecontrolled and actuated in this movement
the
in
do not think that we are warranted to-day
laughing at this naive construction of the Greek mind. Until a short time
ago we have been doing a very similar thing ourselves in the quantum
theory of the atom. Faute de mieux,
similar naivetes
we have
tried
contented ourselves with
beyond them have emphasized rather than Uquidated the fiasco of the Newtonian differential analysis. Let me now turn to another instance. The idea of evolution has had more dominant influence than any other idea in all spheres of modern science and, indeed, of modern life as a whole, in its general form as well as in the special presentation of it by Darwin (namely, automatic adjustment by the survival of the fittest). As an indication of how profound the
idea was,
and the steps that we
we may
first
recall to
mind
the fact that even such a clear-
sighted intellect as that of Schopenhauer
was incapable of grasping
it
(in-
deed he violently rejected it because he considered it to be in contradiction to his own, equally profound, conception that "Now" is always one and the same instant of time and that the "I" is always one and the same
on the other hand, Hegel's philosophy, by embodying that its fife up to our day far beyond its natural span. Moreover, Ernst Mach has applied it to the scientific process itself, which he looked upon as a gradual accommodation of thoughts to facts through a choice of what we find most useful to fit in with the facts and a rejection of the less appropriate. In astrophysics we have learned to look on the various types of stars as different stages in one and the same stellar
person)
while,
idea, has prolonged
evolution.
And
quite recently
we have
is
seen the idea put forward that per-
haps the universe on the whole

definite point of time,
not in a stationary stage, but that at a

it
which
is
relatively not very long ago,
changed
from quite a
be
its
different condition into a steadily expansive stage which,
according to the results of Hubble's extraordinary observations, seems to

present stage. (These observations
show
that the spectral Unes of
very distant nebulae are appreciably shifted to greater wave-lengths and

that this displacement
is
proportioned to the distance of the nebulse. This
points to immensely great velocities
on the part of these systems moving would appear as if the whole universe is in the process of a general expansion.) We do not consider this hypothesis as mere empty phantasy, because we have grown accustomed to the evolutionary idea. If such ideas had been put forward in a former age they certainly would have been rejected as nonsensical. All this shows how dependent science is on the fashionable frame of mind of the epoch of which it forms a part. When we are in the midst
away from
us, so that
it
of a general situation ourselves
it
is
difficult
for us to see general re-
462
semblances. Being so near,
ERWIN SCHRODINGER
we
are apt to perceive only the

is
marked
dis-
when we first see the members of the same family one after another we readily perceive several the resemblances, but if we come to know the family intimately then we see only the differences. So too when we live in the midst of a cultural
tinctions and not to notice the likenesses. It
just as
epoch
it
is
difficult to
perceive the characteristics that are

activity within that epoch.
common
to
Let us take another various branches of human illustrate this. A German father looking at the drawings of a example to ten-year-old son will mark only the individual qualities and will not readily perceive the influence of a general European type of drawing and painting. But if he looks at the drawings of a young Japanese boy he will readily recognize the influence of the Japanese style as a whole. In each case the naive attempt of the boy is controlled and molded even in its smallest detaU by the artistic tradition amid which he lives.

The Humanity of Science
still another Nobel Prize winner ), an English physiologist who has long been a professor at Cam(1923), is bridge University. The reader should note that in this urbane essay Professor Hill does not subscribe to the thesis later announced by C. P. Snow (see p. 296) as to the two worlds of humanism and science. I make no attempt here to decide between them, but I think it obvious that such gap
Archibald Vivian Hill (1886-
as there
may
be would be
less obvious, less wide, to
a physiologist like Hill
than to a physicist like Snow.
THE WORD "humanity" BRINGS TO MIND AT ONCE THE SUPPOSED CONFLICT (or at least the supposed contrast) between the humane studies so-called (namely, literature, language, history, and art) on the one side, and as false science on the other. That conflict, I think, is a complete illusion
as the
common
idea that professors
all
have long beards, look
like
nothing
and are absent-minded in their personal habits as absurd as as ridiculous as the notion that no mathematician can do arithmetic the libel that women, as a class, drive motor-cars any more dangerously (if that were possible) than men. The truth is that science can be, and should be, and often is one of the humanities. In a recent series of broadcast talks on various aspects of science the speakers emphasized not only the useful side, the practical side of their
on
earth,
researches, but even
more
the intellectual side, the joy of discovery, the
wonder and around us.
delight of the
knowledge so acquired of the world inside and
Humane
history.
culture does not reside only in the limited past of recorded
The methods
of science
may be used
to reveal the details of
primitive cultures far older than Greece or Babylon.
Nor
is
there need to
wait five hundred years before the ideas and discoveries of the science
of to-day
become
is
a respectable branch of the
humane
study of the future.
Natural Science
an essential part of a decent education, as essential as
From Sir John Boyd Orr, Professor A. V. Hill, Professor J. C. Philip, Sir Richard Gregory, Sir A. Daniel Hall, Professor Lancelot Hogben, What Science Stands For (London: Allen & Unwin, 1937), pp. 30-38. 463
464
literature, history, art,
and language; it can offer to the human spirit just and sympathetic a view of the world. The phrase, "humanity of science," is a claim that science has an equal part with other studies in humane culture. In A. E. Housman's words, "Let scientific or otherwise, I would us insist that the pursuit of knowledge" add "like the pursuit of righteousness, is part of man's duty to himself." In the dictionary "humanity" is first defined as "the quahty or condition of being human." About twenty-eight years ago, during my studies at Cambridge, I read a number of interesting papers in the Journal of Physiology by a certain Joseph Barcroft. I had not realized then the "quahty or condition of being human" of those who write scientific papers; I supposed that the author of those papers was a learned, respectable, and elderly gentleman. I recall very vividly the astonishment with which one day I suddenly reaUzed the identity of a friendly and humorous young man who demonstrated to us in our classes. Sir Joseph Barcroft, as he now is, recently told how to get scientific people to work together in teams; he is quite as human as he was in 1908; but I find no difficulty to-day, after twenty-eight years, in realizing that he is the author of his papers indeed, I cannot imagine anyone else as their author! That is because I have learnt, what it has been one
as fine a disciphne, just as delicate
of the chief purposes of these talks to show, that the scientist at
work
is
human
being like the rest of us.

is
Another, an acquired, meaning of the word "humanity"

benevolence." Here
"kindness or
be on more debatable ground, in talking of the humanity of science. The world unfortunately is filled with war and rumours of war. The fruits of science, it appears, may be used chiefly to injure, to exterminate, fellow men. Bombing aeroplanes and poison gas are regarded by many as the most significant products of a scientific age. But science can scarcely be blamed for the misuse which non-scientific people (that is, most of the world) make of certain scientific
to
discoveries.
we may seem
Are we,
for example, to forbid long-range prediction of the

successful,
it
weather because,
to prepare for
if it is
may become
easier for
some
dictator
an attack on a neighbour? Are we to say that attempts to find out the mechanism of the human ear must be abandoned because the ear may be used in hunting submarines or locating enemy aircraft? Shall we stop research workers from studying, and so possibly from preventing, plant diseases, because if they succeed too completely or too suddenly an economic crisis may result from over-production of food or
tobacco? Are the embryologists' "organizers," which control the develop-
ment
of animals, to be excommunicated because conceivably some day knowledge of them may lead to the control of cancer and so result in overpopulation and war? I have no doubt of your answer, at least to this last question: but how I ask you is the scientist to know which of his discoveries will be misused by wicked or thoughtless men? We must not take too seriously, then, the war-hysteria of the present
tune:
let
us think of things in their proper historical perspective and try
The Humanity
to realize
of Science
actually done.
465
what science has
Who
would
like to think of
disease as due to evil spirits?
Who
wants hundreds of
women
to die in
like
childbirth of puerperal fever as they did before Pasteur?

to return to surgery before the days of anaesthetics
Who
would
and antiseptics? Who would aboUsh the transport and machinery by which fresh and healthy food is brought to us cheaply from the ends of the earth? Who that goes on a long journey would like to return to an age when it might be months before he could hear of friends at home? Who indeed, in days to come,
would be altogether happy to return to 1936, when one-eighth of all the deaths are due to cancer, and common prejudice against scientific methods of producing immunity still permits diphtheria to kiU many hundreds of children annually? Are the inhumane uses to which science can be put by
be held an objection to the innumerable humane which science has done, or might do anyone can think of them for the betterment, the greater health and happiness and wisdom of men? I said intentionally and provocatively, "by non-scientific people"; after all, it is government by ParUament or dictator which decides on the use or abuse of any particular discovery: and the number of dictators, or Prime Ministers, or even Members of Parliament, who have acquaintance with insignificant. You cannot blame the science, is still to put it mildly inventor of safety matches if a naughty boy uses one to set fire to a
non-scientific people to
things
haystack!
Another aspect of science which this title might suggest is the degree to which the developments of science are caused by, or directed to, the human needs, the social ideas, the material environment of the time. It is easy for the partisan of any particular poUtical faith to find in history, whether of human thought or of human action, the workings of his pet principles. I doubt personally whether the hves of Newton, Faraday, Clerk Maxwell, or
of
Leeuwenhoek, Pasteur, or Pavlov, give support

it
to
any particular poHtical

needs of the moment,
do.
creed, unless
be that of tolerance.
It is true, all
the same, that poUtical,
economic, and philosophical ideas, and the

flippant example,
provide a bias for the work which scientific
human men
To
take a rather
one has often heard it said that modern theories of molecules, atoms, and electrons have been given a very distinct bias by the
modern
habit of playing ball games. Certainly
my own work
in physiology
has been directly influenced by an early interest in

serious plane, Pasteur's discoveries in bacteriology,
athletics.
On
more
which have had so great an influence in medicine, were prompted largely by the diseases of silkworms, sheep, and wine which were impoverishing French agriculture. Lord Kelvin's researches were part of the technical and industrial developments of his day. The Royal Institution, where Davy, Faraday, Dewar, and Sir William Bragg have worked, was founded by a movement to improve the condition of the poor. In England in the sixteenth century the expansion of trade and ideas led to the foundation of the Grammar Schools, which are now our Public Schools. In America to-day the same spirit is building universities and research institutions, endowing science,
466
and constructing a two-hundred-inch mirror for an astronomical telescope. We scientists, therefore, are not unaffected by social and economic things, any more than we are uninfluenced by the work of others, often in very different fields from our own. The chain of technical events, for example, which is leading to television, has led equally to a knowledge both of the upper atmosphere and also of the workings of nerves and ears. Just as we derive our bodily and mental inheritance, through our parents, from unnumbered others in the past, so the scientific discoveries of to-day are the products, not only of our own efforts, but of the ideas and experiments, the successes and more often the failures, of all those who have preceded us. In this sense the "humanity of science" implies that science is a product of human society; and that its progress depends upon all those ideas, movements, and facilities which are current at any moment in
society.
The word "humanity" has one very special sense, pertinent to this talk, namely that of mankind as a whole. Compare the nationalism of politics with the internationalism of knowledge. Of all the interests of mankind there are none so clearly and obviously international as science and learning.
One need not go back far into history for examples. Shortly after the War there was an International Congress of Physiology at Edinburgh. An
attempt was made from abroad to exclude the Germans, our late enemies, from attendance. It was made perfectly clear by a number of British phypeople who had taken their part to the full against Germany siologists during the War that if the Germans were excluded they themselves were not coming. The Germans came, and friendly scientific relations were restored. Similarly, when recent political events in Europe produced a crop of exiles from universities and learned institutions, it was their scientific and other academic colleagues who came at once to their rescue. This chivalrous international tradition, this feeling that science and learning are common factors in humanity, is a very ancient and respectable one; and it is one of the few possible antidotes to the excesses of nationalism at the
present time.
Do
not imagine that this kind of internationalism implies any lack of
affection for one's
own
country. I
am
in science, but I very
much
prefer,
myself an unrepentant internationalist perhaps for that very reason, the free
democratic institutions of our
own
country to any of the dictatorships. That
preference, however, does not hinder
faith, in the international spirit of science
my faith, some would call it a religious and learning; or diminish my

Mankind
anxiety to co-operate with genuine scientists in whatever country.

is
afflicted
to-day by political and economic terrors of his
own making.
its spirit
Science has saved

in
him already from many
of the worse terrors of the world
which he
finds himself.
May
not the example of science, with
of friendly co-operation, lead gradually to a
more reasonable view
of inter-
national relationships, and so
make
its
greatest contribution of all to
human
welfare?
Inventing the Future
RENE JULES DUBOS

Utopias and
Human
Goals
Rene Jules Dubos (1901) is a French-born bacteriologist, a naturalAmerican citizen in 1938, and now with the Rockefeller Institute for Medical Research. The chapter on "Utopias and Human Goals" from his very interesting little book Mirage of Health makes a fine contrast with the thesis of Messrs. Murray and Keniston with which we began this book; and the attitude reflected in Mirage of Health makes an equally suggestive contrast with that of his fellow Frenchman and fellow research
ized
biologist, Alexis Carrel,
whom we
have
just
heard from (see p. 436).
It
would hardly be necessary Agreement.
to write a
book
entitled
Mirage of Unanimous
Arcadias and Utopias
THE ANCIENT PROVINCE OF ARCADY LIES

nesus,
all
IN
THE HEART OF THE PELOPONit
but isolated from the rest of Greece by mountains. In the legend
was the domain of Pan, who played the syrinx on Mount Maenalus, and of rustic people celebrated for their musical accompUshments and their rustic hospitaUty, but also notorious for their ignorance and low standards of living. Yet it was this unfavored land, poor, rocky, chilly, devoid of all the amenities of Ufe, affording adequate food only to goats, which was transformed through the alchemy of art into the myth of Arcadia. From Vergil to Nicolas Poussin, "I, too, dwelt in Arcady" has symbolized the golden ages of plenty and innocence, of unsurpassable happiness enjoyed in the past and enduringly alive in memory. While the Greco-Roman civilization placed its land of dreams in a remote and not easily accessible Arcadia, Chinese Taoism found it in any place where man could achieve identification with nature in romantic mountain paths, isolated fishing villages, or mist-bathed landscapes. According to Lao-tzu and his Taoist followers, joy and bliss were possible only
From Rene Dubos, Mirage

216-236.
of Healtfi
(New York: Harper &
Brothers, 1959), pp.
468
Utopias and
in a
Human
Goals
469
world of primitive simplicity.
Men
could achieve health and happiness
only by merging themselves with their environment and living in accord with the laws of the four seasons, by participating with other living creatures
"in the mysterious equality and thus forget themselves in the Tao."
Taoist's withdrawal from conflict and his attempt to identify himwith the physical and social environment constituted a philosophy of health. Avoidance of travel minimized the transfer of new pathogens from
The
self
one community
to another. Life without aggressive behavior
and
in ac-
cordance with the rhythms of the seasons made it possible to reach a state of harmony with the environment. This way of life was not designed to
solve the difficulties arising from social contacts
and
conflicts.
Rather,
it
attempted to prevent or at least to minimize the emergence of new problems by creating a stable world in which new stresses, but also new experiences,
were ruled out. While the Arcadian bUss and the contented intimacy of the Chinese Tao
are rarely attainable in real
life,
they constitute eternally the stuff of
human
tire
dreams.
vices
As a
substitute for the Arcadias of the past,
men
never
of
imagining for the future
new
types of social order free of the defects and
found in
all
actual societies.
But Utopias
differ
profoundly one from

is
the other despite their
common
basis of illusion, because each
colored
by the value judgments of its originator. Utopian ideals vary all the way from a desire for nirvana to the longing for exciting experience; from the passivity, indolence, and tolerance of Goncharov's oblomovism to the ceaseless activity and creative endeavor of the Faustian universe. Propounders of Utopias have not even been able to agree on the value that they attach to life. Plato considered that life without health was not worth preserving for the sake of either the individual or the community. He saw no virtue in encouraging the survival of a fellow man threatened by continuous sickness. The state physicians of his Republic were to watch with care over "the citizens of goodly conditions, both in mind and body" but persons who were defective either mentally or physically were "to be
is a far cry from the ethics of modern Utopias. must be preserved at all cost, whatever the burden that its preservation imposes on the community and on the individual concerned. Whether this lofty ethical concept will retain acceptance if put to the acid test of social pressure still has to be proved. Western man may rediscover wisdom in Plato's social philosophy when the world becomes crowded with aged, invaUd, and defective people. He may once more
suffered to die." This attitude

Life,
it is
now
taught,
rationahze himself into the belief that happiness
is
not possible in the
absence of usefulness to the social group and that survival under these conditions
is therefore not worth having. Designers of Utopias must also formulate judgments of value regarding
the type of
human
beings they want to foster.
The
society best suited for
producing athletes, warriors, and men of action is not necessarily the best breeding ground for artists, scholars, philosophers, and mystics. In addition.
470
RENE JULES DUBOS

trivial factors,
many
conscious or unconscious, influence the community

it
in determining the defects that

intellectual
will tolerate
it
and the
level of physical
societies
and
adequacy to which
aspires.
Most Western
today
regard as unacceptable certain smells or skin blemishes which were a matter of course a few generations ago and are still accepted as the normal
state by many primitive or semicivilized peoples. dismay on the fact that syphilis, malaria, yaws,
Modem man
looks with
intestinal disorders, etc.,
are so
common
in
some areas
as part
diseases.
Yet he accepts
eyesight, chronic sinusitis,
of the world as not to be regarded as and parcel of a normal life baldness, poor and other bodily defects which might be retraits in
garded as handicaps or even as repulsive

Clearly, health
other cultural contexts.
and disease cannot be defined merely in terms of anatomical, physiological, or mental attributes. Their real measure is the ability of the individual to function in a manner acceptable to himself and to the group of which he is a part. If the medical services of the armed forces seem more successful than their civilian counterparts in formulating useful
criteria of health, this is
due not
to their greater
clearly defined.
less
wisdom but
rather to the
fact that their criteria are
more
On
the whole, effective
miUtary performance required attributes

the multifarious activities of civihan
life.
varied and less complex than
criteria of adequacy change even in the military world. The soldier of past wars who marched or rode his way to victory through physical and mental stamina might not be the most effective warrior in the push-button operations of future conflicts.
But
For several centuries the Western world has pretended to find a unifying concept of health in the Greek ideal of a proper balance between body and mind. But in reality this ideal is more and more difficult to convert into and creative scientists are rarely found among Olympic laureates. It is not easy to discover a formula of health broad enough to fit Voltaire and Jack Dempsey, to encompass the requirements of a stevedore, a New York City bus driver, and a contemplative monk. One of the criteria of health most widely accepted at the present time is that children should grow as large and as fast as possible. But is size
practice. Poets, philosophers,
such a desirable attribute? Is the bigger child happier? will he five longer? does he perceive with greater acuity the loveliness or the grandeur of the world? will he contribute more to man's cultural heritage? or does his larger size merely mean that he will need a larger motorcar, become a larger
soldier, and in his turn beget still larger children? The criteria of growth developed for the production of market pigs would hardly be adequate for animals feeding on acorns in the forests and fending for themselves as
and weight are not desirable and happiness is at most obscure. In his essay On the Sizes of Things or the Advantages of Being Rather Small, Boycott concluded, in fact, that an animal about as big as a medium dog has the best possible size for our world!
are they for
Size
in themselves,
free individuals.
Nor
man.
and
their relation to health
Curiously enough, the assumption that
human
beings should grow fast
Utopias and
Human
Its
Goals
closely as to
is its
471
validity
and ultimate and a few other physical traits can be measured readily, provide objective and convenient characteristics on which to agree, and can be on the whole readily achieved. There is no evidence, however, that these criteria have much bearing on and large has never been examined
consequences.
only certain merit
that weight, size,
on the development of civilization, or even on the individual's adapt to the complex demands of modern technology. While high humidity usually enhances the development of orchid plants, it is not
happiness,
ability to
development of the flowers; Grevillea robusta, which provides valuable timber under the relative drought conditions of Australia, yields but valueless wood when caused to grow rapidly as a shading plant on the coffee plantations of the tropical Guatemalan highparticularly favorable to the
For man, similarly, mere size has never been the determinant factor of and success, either as an individual or as a species. Large size is likely to prove even less of an asset in the world of the future, and may even become a handicap. The specifications for man's body and mind may have to be reformulated in order to meet with greater effectiveness the exigencies of the mechanized world. Arcadias are dreams of an imaginary past, and Utopias the intellectual
lands.
his survival
concepts of an idealized society. Different as they appear to be, both imply a static view of the world which is incompatible with reality, for the human
condition has always been to
move
on.
"Man
has never sought tranquillity
alone," wrote Sir Winston Churchill. "His nature drives him forward to fortunes which, for better or for worse, are different from those which it is in his power to pause and enjoy." Prehistory and ancient history show that men have never been able to forget their nomadic past and to
rest quietly in the
comer
of the earth they
had made
their
Not
to
satisfied
with changing their geographical environment,

their
own for a while. men also crave
for changes in their social atmosphere. Their Utopias have never
keep pace v^th
been able fundamental restlessness, with their eternal dream
of a
New
Jerusalem.
From
Biological Adaptation to Social Evolution
Fossil remnants of prehistoric
man have been found
in greatest profusion
in East Africa. It seems that Ethiopia, Kenya, Tanganyika, and neighboring countries have provided conditions well suited for the evolutionary changes through which the human race achieved the diversity which permitted it to colonize the
whole world.
On
the one hand,
much
of East Africa consists

to
of highlands with a moderate climate varied
enough
produce the stimuH
required for the evolution of an all-purpose ancestor of man.
On
the other
hand,
this
region offers a large variety of geological strata, topographical
configurations, cUmates, fauna,
and
flora to
which early
man
could gain
easy access. Within a few hundred miles are to be found high peaks, rich
plateaus and lands below sea level; torrential waters,
gentle seas; tropical forests, alluvial plains,
immense lakes, and and deserts of sand. Thus,
472
even short migrations provided for
physical environments.
RENE JULES DUBOS
man
in this area the opportunity to
gain experience with and achieve biological fitness to a wide range of
And
he did not have to travel far to reach the lands
embark on his cultural destiny. From the Abyssinian mountains, the Blue Nile opened for him a channel to the luminous and fertile deltas of the Near East which became the cradles of his civilizations. As he moved into new lands and new climes man underwent adaptive
where he was
to
biological changes in response to the various environments that he en-
countered.
To a large extent this biological phase of evolutionary history seems to have been completed by the end of the Pleistocene epoch. Physical
then essentially a
fait
man was
accompli. But, while the size of his brain,

his
his physiological reactions,
and even
is
fundamental
instincts
have prob-
ably changed
little
since that time, the social structures that he has develto evolve. It
oped have continued
clear that the collective evolutionary
course of mankind has
now
set the
animal world. The present
human species apart from the rest of the phase of human evolution differs qualitatively
from the purely biological phase because passive submission to the environment has been replaced by an active creative process. Evolutionary changes which were once the slavish expressions of natural forces have become
increasingly self-directing.
They
affect
not so
much
the
mind
of
man
as the type of Ufe that his social organization
body and the makes possible.
is based on the ability to acquire and transmit information in a maimer that gives to the social body the cumulative experience and knowledge of each of its members.
Their effectiveness
All these
new
aspects of
human
activities are identified
with the invenlife,
tion of tools
villages
and the development of

in cities, created
social groups.
Communal
in
and then
new environmental problems
that stimu-
lated
new adaptive processes. This major change occurred only some ten thousand years ago. At the rate of three generations per century, this lapse of time is far too short to have allowed adequate play for the usual mechanisms of biological adaptation. Rather, it was through the development of
social practices that
man met
the countless and unexpected
new
challenges
that he encountered in the course of his migrations
and
social upheavals.
Religious beUefs, empirical wisdom, and eventually scientific understanding played dominant roles in helping him to resist threats originating from nature or, more often, from his own activities. Whereas other living things
survive through adaptive changes in their bodies and their instincts,
strives to
man
on
impose
life
his
own
directional will
on
the relations that he has with
the rest of the world. Consciously, though often not wisely, he decides
the kind of
he wishes to have; then he acts to render possible this way of life by shaping the environment and even attempting to alter his own physical and mental self.
Social
Changes and Ecological Equilibria
Modern man believes that he has achieved almost complete mastery over the natural forces which molded his evolution in the past and that he
Utopias and
Human
Goals
473
can now control his own biological and cultural destiny. But this may be an Like aU other living things, he is part of an immensely complex ecological system and is bound to all its components by innumerable links. Moreover, as we have seen, human life is affected not only by the environmental forces presently at work in nature but even more perhaps
illusion.
by the
past.
Any
attempt to shape the world and modify
to create a self-chosen pattern of life involves
human personality in order many unknown consequences.

at
Human destiny
is
bound
to
remain a gamble, because
some unpredictable
time and in some unforeseeable manner nature will strike back. The multiplicity of determinants which affect biological systems limits the power
of the experimental method to predict their trends and behavior. Experimentation necessarily involves a choice in the factors brought to bear on the phenomena under study. Ideally, the experimenter works in a closed system, affected only by the determinants that he has introduced, under the conditions that he has selected. Naturally, however, events never occur in a
closed system.
They
are determined and modified by circumstances and

is
forces that cannot be foreseen, let alone controlled. In part this
because
natural situations are so complex that
no experimental study can ever en-
compass and reproduce

thermore,
all
the relevant factors of the environment. Furis
human
behavior
but also by the desire for change.

to loathe the taste of sweetness,
governed not only by biological necessities When surfeited with honey man begins
and this desire for change per se introduces an inescapable component of unpredictability in his life. It is the awareness of these complexities which accounts for the clumsiness of the scientific language
scientist
emphasizes ad nauseam that what he states
used in reporting biological events. The is valid only "under

if
conditions of the experiment."
As
.
apologetically, he
is
wont
to qualify
any assertion or general statement with the remark, "All other things being ." Because things are never the same, alequal which they never are most everyone admits that prediction is always risky in political and social fields. But it is not so generally recognized that the same limitations apply to other areas usually regarded as falling within the realm of the so-
called exact sciences, for instance, the epidemiology of disease.
Many
examples have been quoted

effects
in earlier chapters to illustrate the
unexpected and far-reaching
that accidental circumstances have
exerted in the past on the welfare of man.

the
The
introduction of inexpensive
cotton undergarments easy to launder and of transparent glass that brought

light
most humble dwelling, contributed more to the control of infection than did all drugs and medical practices. On the other hand, a change in fur fashion brought about a few years later an outbreak of pneumonic plague in Manchuria; the use of soft coal in English grates caused chimney sweeps to develop cancer; Roentgen's discovery endangered the lives of scientists and physicians exposed to X rays in the course of their professional activities. Likewise oil and rubber may in the future come to be regarded as having been the indirect causes of disease and
into
474
death. In addition to the
accidents,
RENE JULES DUBOS
human
beings killed or
maimed
in automobile
many
are likely to suffer, directly or indirectly,
from the
air
pollution brought about by the widespread use of oil and rubber. Further-
more, neuroses peculiar to our time may someday be traced to the speed and power that rubber and oU have made possible, as well as to the
by crowded city streets and highways. which condition social changes, profoundly affect the physical and mental well-being of man. And, unfortunately, the most worthwhile goals may have results as disastrous as those of the most despicable ambitions. Industrial imperialism was responsible for an enormous amount
frustrations caused
Human goals,
of misery
among
children during the early nineteenth century. But, as
we
have seen, the present philosophy to assure the survival of all children and to protect them from any traumatic experience also is likely to have unfortunate consequences by interfering with the normal play of adaptive
processes.
Philosophical and social doctrines have been the most influential forces
in
changing the
regard in which the

tainly
human ways of life during historical times. The high human body was held by the Greco-Roman world ceron
played a role in the development of hygiene and medicine during

the contempt for bodily functions,
faith,
the classical times of Western civilization. In contrast, the emphasis
mystical values and on eternal
life,
which characterized certain early phases of the Christian

it
led to the neglect of sanitary practices during medieval times
even though
bears to his
probably
did not necessarily decrease the enjoyment of sensual pleasures by normal

as in the past, the relation that
is
men and women. Today,

total
man
environment
is
influenced by values of which he
not always aware.
civilization that devotes
page
after
page of
is
its
popular magazines to
to produce men very from those taught to worship Confucian wisdom, Buddhic mysticism, or Blake's poems even if that worship often does not go far beyond mere lip service. To feel at ease among the neon lights of Broadway demands a type of body and mind not conducive to happiness in the mists of a Taoist moonscape. Technology is now displacing philosophical and religious values as the dominant force in shaping the world, and therefore in determining human fate. What man does today and will do tomorrow is determined to a large extent by the techniques that expert knowledge puts at his disposal, and his dreams for the future reflect the achievements and promises of the scientists. From them he has acquired the faith or rather the illusion that society can be planned in a manner that will assure plenty, health, and happiness for everyone and thus solve all the great problems of existence.
portraying the rulers of the business world

different
bound
As modern
research,
technological innovations are the direct
outcome of
scientific
can no longer afford to stand aloof from social problems. Knowledge can grow without regard for ethical values, but the modern scientist cannot help becoming involved in ethics, since science
scientists
Utopias and
Human
Goals
475
can no longer be dissociated from the applications of science. In the past

the social effects of science were slow in manifesting themselves.
they are immediate and reach every aspect of the
life
of every
Today man, for

effective
good and for

servants.
evil.
The
scientist
has convinced society that his efforts deserve
to be generously supported because he has
become one
of
its
most
As
a penalty for his dependence on public support and for the
influence that he has gained he cannot escape being

for his activities, even
if
made
responsible
their results are different
from what he had hoped.
In the present decade he has to deal with the consequences of the release
of
man-made
radiations.
He may soon
acquire the knowledge that will
permit him to control the behavior of people and the genetic endowment
of children to be born, a
ities
power frightening
in
its
unpredictable potential-
for evil.
discover, to describe, to classify, to invent, has
been the traditional on the whole a pleasant occupation amounting to a sophisticated hobby. This happy phase of social irresponsibihty is now over and the scientist will be called to account for the long-term consequences of his acts. His dilemma is and will remain that he cannot predict these consequences because they depend on many factors in particular on the outside his knowledge or at least beyond his control exercise of free will by men. The scientist must therefore avoid pride of intellect and guard himself against any illusion or pretense as to the extent and depth of what he knows. He must also develop an alertness to the untask of the scientist until this century;
To
expected, an awareness of the fact that

to result
many
surprising effects are likely
from even trivial disturbances of ecological equilibria. Fortunately, the scientific method is well suited for the cultivation of this alertness to the advent of the unpredictable. The scientist cannot predict the remote consequences of his activities, but he can often provide techniques for recognizing them early. One of the few encouraging indications that science has come of age is the fact that extensive studies on the potential danger of radiations were initiated as soon as it became apparent that the forces unleashed by knowledge of the atom would find a place in the technology of war and peace. To become worthy of his power the scientist will need to develop enough wisdom and humane understanding to recognize that the acquistion of knowledge is intricately interwoven with the pursuit of goals. It has often been pointed out that the nineteenth-century slogan, "Survival of the fittest," begged the question because it did not state what fitness was for. Likewise it is not possible to plan man's future without deciding beforehand what he should be fitted for, in other words, what human destiny ought to be
a decision loaded with ethical values.
What
is
new
is
not necessarily good,
and
all
changes, even those apparently the most desirable, are always
fraught with unpredictable consequences.
The
scientist
must beware
Dick, "All
of
having to admit, like Captain
Ahab
in Melville's
Moby
my
means
are sane;
my
motives and objects mad."
476
Health, Happiness, and
It is
RENE JULES DUBOS
Human
Values
often suggested that a moratorium

its
on science would give mankind
the opportunity to search

that threaten
its
soul and discover a solution to the problems
is naive enough to hope would bring about the solution of ancient human problems, many beHeve that a scientific status quo might prevent or retard the development of new threats. This static formula of survival is not new; indeed, it has been used with much biological success by social insects. Certain species of ants and termites had completed at least fifty million years ago the highly stratified and eflBcient type of colonial organization which they still exhibit. They have solved many of the problems which are the subject of endless discussions and conflicts in most human societies. Their queens, warriors, and workers all are produced as needed by genetic and physiological control; they have functions which are clearly defined and regulated in terms of the welfare of the colony as a whole. Even problems of eugenics have been solved in these insect societies by confining reproduction to a certain caste and promptly eUminating all abnormal and
very survival. Although no one
that stopping the clock
diseased individuals.
survival and wide distribution of highly organized insect sowhich have not changed in fifty million years is evidence that living things can achieve a more or less stable equilibrium with their environment and that, beyond a certain degree of adaptation, change is no longer
It is
The very
cieties
necessary for biological survival.
conceivable, therefore, that
human
and thus avoid the dangers inevitably associated with the adaptive problems bound to arise from any change. In fact, this has happened on several occasions in many parts of the
societies also could stop evolving
world.
Before their contact with the white

Islanders,
man
the Eskimos, the Polynesian
had worked out stable societies with an acceptable degree of physical health and happiness. As pointed out by Arnold J. Toynbee, however, the human beings in all these societies were degraded by specialization and by limitation of their activities to a level far below that of the ideal all-round men evoked in Pericles' funeral speech. These "arrested" societies resembled in some respects the societies of bees and ants. Their stabiUty may have resulted in the avoidance of many new
tribes
and certain nomadic
adaptation problems but proved incompatible with the growth of their

civilizations, indeed,
this limitation
with the very growth of man. It was the awareness of which had estranged D. H. Lawrence from the Polynesian
Paradise:
There they are, these South Sea Islanders, beautiful big men with their golden limbs and their laughing, graceful laziness. They are like children, they are generous: but they are more than this. They are far off, and in their eyes is an early darkness of the soft, uncreate past. There is his woman, with her knotted hair and her dark, inchoate, slightly sardonic eyes. She has soft
. . . . . . . . .
warm
flesh, like
warm mud. Nearer
the reptile, the Saurian age.
Utopias and
Human
Goals
assume any "white"
. . .
477
superiority. It
bitter centuries of civilization,
Far be
it
from me
to
living so far,
through all our living onwards, forwards.

nostalgia
Seas.
seems to me, that in wq have still been
we
all feel
for
it.
The past, the Golden Age of the past what a Yet we don't want it when we get it. Try the South
The fact that, except for a few arrested societies, man has been living and struggling forward in a great life-development shows that Utopias and all static formulas of society are out of tune with the human condition. It is the desire for change which has set man apart from the rest of the living world, by leading him to a life of adventure away from the environments to which he was biologically adapted, and it is this desire that will continue to generate the creative forces of his future. The Athenians symbolize for us the most brilliant achievement of mankind because, according to Thucydides, "They go on working away in hardship and
danger all the days of their lives, seldom enjoying their possessions as they are always adding to them. They prefer hardship and activity to peace and
quiet."
Once
his essential biological

little
needs are
satisfied,
man
wont
develops other
urges which have
bearing on his survival as a species.

is
When When
longer needs to struggle for his loaf of bread he

essential savory, then to long for
to crave
some
artistic expression.
he no an unhe has
established
all
kinds of direct and indirect contacts with the surrounding
world he begins to worry about the next television set and soon longs to explore the rest of the universe. Indeed, it is probably the most distinguishing aspect of human life that it converts essential biological urges and functions into activities which have lost their original significance and
purpose. Eating habits are
now determined by
acquired tastes and by social
conventions rather than by nutritional requirements. The acts of love are performed for pleasure rather than for reproduction. "If all our women
were to become as beautiful as the Venus de' Medici," wrote Charles Darwin in Chapter XIX of The Descent of Man and Selection in Relation to Sex, "we should be for a time charmed; but we should soon wish for variety, and as soon as we had obtained variety, we should wish to see certain characters a little exaggerated." Thus, man desires change for
itself in
change's sake, without regard to any biological need. This desire expresses the most ordinary manifestations of life, like the choice of food, and
in the
forms of art. It hoods of motorcars, as well as the most ancient occupations, hke hunting. Now that highpower rifles are available, sportsmen are returning to the use of primitive weapons. In 1957 forty thousand adults registered for the right to hunt with bow
most sophisticated occupations,
like the various like the
affects the
newest technological developments,
and arrow
It is
in the state of Michigan alone. important, indeed, that there be available opportunities for change,
for
when
they are lacking
man
is
apt to satisfy his thirst for change by acts
of violence or destruction. Dostoevsky's sniveling hero in Letters
from the
478
Underworld could not
life
RENE JULES DUBOS

find satisfaction in the order
and comfort of the
"Crystal Palace" world in which he lived; he chose an antisocial
way
of
was the one form of freedom of action still available to him. "Well, gentlemen, what about giving all this commonsense a mighty
because
it
.
. .
kick
simply to send
all
these logarithms to the devil so that
we can
again live according to our foohsh wUl?"

of proving to himself that he
it
"Man
only exists for the purpose
even
if it
means physical
civihzation."
Many
not an organ-stop! He will prove even if it means turning his back on forms of delinquency among our overfed teenagers
is
man and
suffering,
probably come from their unspent creative energy.
Mankind behaves
sition
like the restless, sleepless traveler
who
turns in his
berth to one side and then to the other, feeling better while changing po-
even though he knows that the change

is
will
not bring him lasting
comfort. This restlessness

increasingly governed
commonly
identified
with the concept of

is
progress. In reality, however, the only certain fact

is
that
human
history
by the search for
variety, at times for the sake
just for recreation, but in any case unrelated which determine the evolution of biological traits. Progress means only movement without implying any clear statement of direction. At most it can be said that, despite so many disheartening setbacks, the activities of man seem to have on the whole a direction upward and forward which tends to better his fife physically, intellectually, and morally. The desire for progress may be nothing more than man's declaration of independence from the blind forces of nature. To paint the Last Supper, to write a poem, or to build an empire demands the expenditure of a form of energy and produces a type of result which does not have an obvious
of creation,
more commonly
to the forces
place in the natural order of things. In fact, as we have seen, certain of man's ideals and goals threaten to have consequences unfavorable for the
human
to
species. The cultivation of refined or esoteric tastes may interfere with the play of adaptive mechanisms and render man more vulnerable
some of his ancient plagues. The very mastery of nature may release dangers that cannot be controlled. Changes in the social order which increase the richness and variety of
the ecological equilibria
species.
life can also, especially if too rapid, upset on which depends the continuation of the human
Awareness of dangers is not likely to deflect the course of mankind, for does not live by bread alone. "All man wants," wrote Dostoevsky, "is an absolutely free choice, however dear that freedom may cost him and wherever it may lead him." True enough, most men run almost mechanically like clocks from their birth to their death, motivated only by their
man
biological needs of the

their very passivity
moment and by the desire to feel socially secure. But makes them of little importance for social evolution.
nature which
is
The
tain
aspect of
human
significant
because unique
is
that cer-
men have
goals which transcend biological purpose.

it
Among
other living things,
is
man's dignity to value certain ideals
Utopias and
Human
Goals
479
above comfort, and even above life. This human trait makes of medicine a philosophy that goes beyond exact medical sciences, because it must encompass not only man as a living machine but also the collective aspirations of mankind. A perfect pohcy of public health could be conceived for colonies of social ants or bees whose habits have become stabiUzed by instincts. Likewise it would be possible to devise for a herd of cows an ideal system of husbandry with the proper combination of stables and pastures. But, unless men become robots, no formula can ever give them permanently the
health and happiness symbolized by the contented cow, nor can their
societies achieve a structure that will last for millennia.
As long
as
man-
kind
is
made up
of independent individuals with free will, there cannot be
any social status quo. Men will develop new urges, and these will give rise to new problems, which will require ever new solutions. Human life implies adventure, and there is no adventure without struggles and dangers.
Envoi
Men
naturally desire health

all,
and happiness. For some of them, however,
perhaps for
these words have implications that transcend ordinary bio-
logical concepts.
The kind
of health that
men
desire
most
is
not necessarily
a state in which they experience physical vigor and a sense of well-being,
not even one giving them a long
life. It is,
instead, the condition best suited
to reach goals that each individual formulates for himself. Usually these
goals bear no relation to biological necessity; at times, indeed, they are antithetic to biological usefulness.
and happiness
is
More often than not the pursuit of health guided by urges which are social rather than biological;
urges which are so peculiar to

things because they are of
men as to be meaningless for other living no importance for the survival of the individual
or of the species.
The
satisfactions
their lives
flesh or in
which men crave most, and the sufferings which scar most deeply, have determinants which do not all reside in the the reasonable faculties and are not completely accounted for by
satisfy the
scientific laws.
"Reason," wrote Dostoevsky, "can only
reasoning ability of
life.
. . . .
man, whereas voUtion is a manifestation of the whole of knows only what it has succeeded in getting to know
. .
Reason
whereas
human
nature acts as a whole, with everything that
is
in
it,
consciously, and un-
consciously, and though it may commit all sorts of absurdities, it persists." Exact sciences give correct answers to certain aspects of life problems, but very incomplete answers. It is important of course to count and measure what is countable and measurable, but the most precious values in human life are aspirations which laboratory experiments cannot yet reproduce. As Haeckel pointed out, Richtigkeit correctness is not suflBcient to reach Wahrheit the real truth. Homo sapiens as a biological machine may not have changed much since Pleistocene times, but mankind has continued to evolve, developing
480
a
is
RENE JULES DUBOS

of
life
new kind
almost transcendental to
its
earthly biological origin. It

is
a paradoxical attribute of
criteria
many human
beings that their behavor
often
and desires that they value more than life itself. To comprehend the biology of mankind, the story of human evolution, it is helpful to remember Aristotle's saying: "The nature of man is not what he is born as, but what he is born for." Indeed, some men in all ages have been guided by the faith that "he who would save his life first must lose it." Alone among living things, men are willing to sacrifice the purely biological manifestation of their existence at the altar of a higher form of life congoverned by
ceived in the soul rather than experienced in the flesh.

gious of thinking
of
. .
men
is
believes in the
is
Even the least relideep symbolism of what Paul wrote

it is
human
.
nature: "It
first
sown a natural body;
raised a spiritual body.
The
man
is
of the earth, earthy: the second
man
is
the
Lord
of
from heaven." Because man

life
a spiritual
body he
is
more concerned with a way
than with his physical
state.
Balzac, on his deathbed, projected Her-
culean labors and pleaded with his physician to keep him alive six weeks
longer in order that he might finish his work. "Six weeks with fever
eternity.
. . ,
is
an
Hours are like days and then the nights are not lost." Marcel Proust, also on the day before he died, wrote of those obligations of the artist which seem to be derived from some other world, "based on goodness,
scrupulousness, sacrifice."
"Work
satisfy
is
more important than
life,"
Katherine Mansfield confided to
the last pages of her Journal. Searching for a definition of health that
would
her body riddled with tuberculosis and also her tormented soul, she could only conclude: "By health, I mean the power to live a full, adult,
breathing
life in
living,
wonders thereof the sea the sun. of becoming, so that I may be

. . .
close contact with
what I love the earth and the want to be all that I am capable there's only one phrase that will do
. . .
a child of the sun." The sun is not merely a source of warmth, of

is
light, of food, of power. It symbol of human aspirations. Like Icarus, who soaring upward to heaven plummeted to the sea and died when his waxen wings were melted by the sun, man deliberately exposes himself to dangers and even to destruction whenever he tries to escape from his biological and earthly bondage. Wherever he goes, whatever he undertakes, he will encounter new challenges and new threats to his welfare. Attempts at adaptation will demand efforts, and these efforts will often result in failure, partial or total, temporary or permanent. Disease will remain an inescapable manifestation
also the
of his struggles.
life free of stresses and strains remain an idle dream. Man cannot hope to find another Paradise on earth, because paradise is a static concept while human life is a dynamic process. Man could escape danger only by renouncing adventure, by abandoning that which has given to the human
it
While
may be
comforting to imagine a
in a carefree world, this will
Utopias and
condition
its
Human
Goals
41
unique character and genius among the rest of living things. Garden of Eden, Since the days of the cave man, the earth has never been a is essential to survival. The but a Valley of Decision where resilience necessarily for earth is not a resting place. Man has elected to fight, not of emotional, intellectual, and ethical growth that but for a process
himself
goes on forever.
race, because
To grow
in the midst of dangers

spirit.
is
the fate of the
human
it is
the law of the
MARSTON BATES
Man and the
Balance of Nature
Marston Bates (1906-
),
Professor of Zoology at the University of
Michigan, has had a wide research experience in various parts of the globe, both on land and on the oceans. The following passage from his The
Forest and the Sea
confronts
is
an honest facing of the

place
when he
tries to
man
difficulties
ethics
and
all
a trained scientist
in Nature. I suggest
that the ecologist's concept of homeostasis, like the physicist's concept of
equilibrium, ought to lead the scientist to the kind of position as to planned

social,
economic, and political action suggested by the familiar Hippocratic
In
don't interfere too radically and too rapidly with Nature. would imply a conservative position. Note also that the position of another biologist. Dr. Dubos, in the preceding passage, also has
politics, this
"Do no harm"
conservative implications. Incidentally, Professor Bates's reading suggestions,
reader
on pp. 263-268 of his book, are an admirable prospectus for the who wants to go further in many directions.
THE PROBLEM OF MAN'S PLACE IN NATURE, THEN,

biosphere.
in
IS
THE PROBLEM OF
the relations between man's developing cultures and other aspects of the
The understanding of these is greatly handicapped by the way which we have come to organize knowledge. To be sure, man with his varying cultures and cultural traits forms a special phenomenon which requires special
means
still,
of study
and the accumulation of
special sorts of
information. But
man
has not escaped from the biosphere.
He
has got
into a new, unprecedented kind of relationship with the biosphere;
and
his
on his understanding of himself, but on his understanding of this world in which he lives. This makes the split between the social and biological sciences particularly unfortunate. Economics and ecology, as words, have the same root;
success in maintaining this
well depend not only
may
but that
is
about
all
they have in
common. As
fields of
knowledge, they are
cultivated in remotely separated parts of our universities, through the use
of quite different methods, by scholars
who would
hardly recognize any1960),
From Marston
pp. 250-262.
Bates,
The Forest and
the Sea
(New York: Random House,
482
Man and
thing in
the Balance of Nature
483
is
common. The world

cities,
of the ecologists
"unspoiled nature." They

real
world of the economoney, labor, market, goods, capital. There is no room for squirrels scolding in the oak trees, no room for robins on the lawn. There is no room for people either, people loving and hating and dreaming. People become for that matter
tend to avoid
is like
parks, fields, orchards.
The
mists
Plato's,
it is
a world of ideas, of abstractions
the labor force or the market.
More and more,

the study of nature. the
in all areas,
we
tend to separate the study of

is
man from
way we have
from one
natural sciences
lation
natural sciences
at a
time
when
one of the basic lines of division in organized knowledge, in our pattern of specialization. The and the social sciences exist in practically complete isoanother. Man's body, curiously, has been left with the while the social sciences have taken over his mind we are most aware of the artificiality of the body-mind
separation
The
separation.
Our
are
is
third great division of basic knowledge, the humanities, has long
since forgotten about nature. Joseph
Wood Krutch
can well remark: "There
many
courses in 'The Nature Poets' in American colleges. But nature

left
usually
out of them." Surely there
things together, of achieving a

rest of the natural
is some way of putting all of these more balanced view of ourselves and the world. The matter, I think, has some urgency.
Ours has been aptly called the age of anxiety, and this is curious. We should be able to look about us and feel a certain self-satisfaction. We have learned to develop and direct tremendous power; we can create the kind
of conditions
we
find comfortable;
we can produce
large quantities of a great
achieved a surprising degree of control over disease and physical pain. In ahnost any way we assess man's relations with his environment, he seems to be doing well when compared with the past,
variety of foods;
we have
even though there
is still
obvious
room
for great improvement.

all
Yet, despite this abundance and progress, almost
attempts to look at
man's future are gloomy. I can't think of any recently written image of the future that sounds very attractive, even when the author was trying hard to look for glories. The glories mostly turn out to be bigger and better gadgets, faster trips to a dismal Mars, or better adjusted husbands and
wives
who no
longer take to drink. Usually the author looking into the
future doesn't pretend to like his
about him,
this is
1984 or what he sees coming.
his
brave
new world: but looking

it,
Our
anxiety about the future,
when we analyze
turns largely
on three
related things:
the likelihood of continuing warfare,
the dizzy rate of
human
look like insoluble problems. Surely
population growth, and the exhaustion of resources. But these don't men who can manufacture a moon
can learn to stop
killing each other; men who can control infectious disease can learn to breed more thoughtfully than guinea pigs; men who can meas-
ure the universe can learn to act wisely in handling the materials of the
universe.
Why
are
we
so pessimistic?
Chiefly, I suspect, because
we have come more and more
to
doubt our
484
ability to act rationally.
MARSTON BATES
Reason seems
to
not of the species or of organized groups. Somewhere

faith of the Eighteenth
be a property of individual men, we have lost the

perfectibility of
Century French philosophers in the
man, and the rather

progress.
different faith of the Nineteenth
Century in the idea of
Maybe
a thing in
the anthropologists are right

itself,
when
they say that culture acts as
sweeping along according to inexorable laws, no more under
man's control than rodent evolution is under the control of the mice in the fields. The difference between men and mice, then, would be a matter only of awareness, of self -consciousness. We can study the laws of cultural evolution but we can't change them. We can or organic evolution
foretell
our
doom
but
we
can't forestall
I
it.
doubt whether the extreme culturists really believe it either. If they believed what they say, I think they wouldn't talk so much. They are like the disciples of Karl Marx who say they believe in
I don't
beUeve
this,
and
the inexorable dialectic of history, but continually try to give history a
push in the right direction.

or organic evolution
no doubt but understanding the laws and acting with the laws, he can influence the consequences. He has in his hands a certain measure of control over his destiny, but this control depends on understanding, and on the spread and proper use of knowledge. The great immediate threat, of course, is the misuse of nuclear power,
true enough,
Man
can't change the laws of cultural evolution
the danger of catastrophic war.

multiplication of the
The long-term
threat
is
the cancerous
size of
numbers of men: a new human population the
the city of Detroit every month, year after year.
The thought
is
dizzying.
And
then the thought of a nuclear blast capable of killing

is
last
month's
millions in a few seconds
hardly reassuring.
It
looks as though, as a part a fatal disease.
of nature,
we have become
a disease of nature
And when
How,
perhaps
the host dies, so does the pathogen.
in the face of
our power, in the face of our danger, do
we develop
a guiding philosophy?
single field of knowledge, holds the answer to that. knowledge can contribute to the answer. Insofar as man's relations with the rest of nature are concerned, I think we must make every effort to maintain diversity that we must make this effort even though it requires constant compromise with apparent immediate needs. To look at this, it may be most convenient to sort out the arguments into those that are primarily ethical, those that are primarily esthetic, and those that single
No
man, no
all
But
all
men and
are essentially utihtarian.
Albert Schweitzer remarks in his autobiography that "the great fault

all ethics hitherto has been that they believed themselves to have to deal only with the relations of man to man." This is particularly true in the
of
Western, Christian tradition. The present material world, in the philosophy

of this tradition,
is
unimportant, no more than a transient scene for the
testing of the soul's fitness for eternity.
The
material universe
is
completely
Man and
485
it is
man-centered. Nature, insofar as

temptation
with no
noticed,
itself.
is
only a convenience
or
positive value in
Animals are unimportant because they have no souls. God may notice is an example of His omniscience rather than of His preoccupation. Even Christ gave no thought to the Gadarene swine. The first arguments against bear-baiting, cockfighting and the like were not that they were liable to cause injury and pain to the animals, but that they were liable to demorahze the human character, leading to gambling, thievery and the like. For a considerable part of humanity, however, this world has direct religious significance. Many primitive religions have various forms of nature worship, of animism and totemism. But in some of the great religions, particularly Buddhism and Hinduism, attitudes toward nature toward animals in particular have an ethical basis. For many millions of Hindus it is a sin to kill any animal. With the Jains, this is carried to an extreme to avoid possible injury even to the tiniest of insects. We deplore the Hindu attitude toward cattle as uneconomical which it certainly is and a handicap to the development of India. In countries within the Western tradition, however, attitudes toward animals often cannot be explained on practical or rational grounds. I suspect that a visitor from Mars, observing our treatment of dogs, cats and other domestic pets, would conclude that they were sacred animals. Horses in some Western subcultures are also treated as sacred animals. The horror of eating horse meat seems not too different from the or dog meat Mushm horror of eating pig or the Hindu horror of eating any animal. There have always been individuals within the Christian tradition with a love of nature, with a kind feeling toward animals. St. Francis of Assisi rightfully is their patron. In modern times this has grown into a cult of great emotional force, leading to the development of a variety of formal
the sparrows, but this
organizations for the prevention of cruelty to animals, for the protection

of wildlife, which reaches an extreme in the anti-vivisectionist groups. This
attitude
is
most highly developed
in the industrialized regions since

It is
it
goes
along with economic security and relative leisure.
a characteristic of
"affluent societies." It is reassuring in the sense that kindness and tolerance and sympathy whether for slaves, for children or for animals seem to gain force and spread with economic development. This kindness and sympathy for animals might well be classed as an
ethical attitude. Curiously, along with the cult of kindness to animals,
we
have a parallel development in the same societies and circumstances of the cult of the sportsman, in which killing becomes a good in itself. As hunting ceased to be a necessity, it became a luxury for men; and hunting as play, hunting as sport, has long characterized classes of men with the leisure to indulge in it. Hunting is sometimes thought to represent a basic "instinct" in human nature, and certainly there is something elemental and primitive in the thrill of the chase. Intellectually, I have abandoned hunt-
486
ing as a sport since,
MARSTON BATES
when a boy, I watched the agonies of a raccoon I But often enough, hunting for some worthy "scientific" had wounded. purpose, I have felt my intellectual pretensions slide away and I have become lost in The sport
my game. and noblemen has now become the sport of millions, of anyone with an automobile and a rifle or shotgun. It is recreation. But also a philosophy has developed whereby this killing of deer and ducks and quail is supposed to inculcate virtue. Krutch quotes the propaganda slogan of a gun company: "Go hunting with your boy and you'll never have to go
the purely emotional absorption of getting
of kings
hunting for him."

I get lost in the ethical issues
involved in these problems. Intellectually I
all life is sacred. But pracno way of acting on this. There is no logical stopping place before the end reached by the people of Samuel Butler's Erewhon. They became vegetarian out of respect for the rights of animals. But as one of their learned men pointed out, vegetables are equally alive, and equally have rights. So the Erewhonians, to be consistent, are reduced to eating cabbages certified to have died a natural death. Monkeys, deer, cows, rats, where do you quail, songbirds, lizards, fish, insects, molluscs, vegetables draw the line between what can be properly killed and eaten, and what not? It so happens that I don't like decayed cabbages and I do Mke rare roast beef which leaves me, as usual, blundering around in a quandary. The ethical question is difficult. We have drifted in the modern world into a position of ethical relativism which leaves us with no absolutes of good and bad, right and wrong. Things are good or right according to the context, depending on the values of the society or culture. Yet one feels that there must be some basis of right conduct, applicable to all men and aU places and not depending on any particular dogma or any specific revelation. Science has undermined the dogmas and revelations; and it provides, for many working scientists, a sort of faith, a sort of humanism, that can replace the need for an articulated code of conduct. But our scientists and philosophers have so far failed to explain this in a way that reaches any very large number of people. This, it seems to me, is one of the great tasks of modem philosophy, which the philosophers, dallying in their academic groves, have shunned. When some thinker does come forth to provide us with a rationale for conduct, he will have to consider not only the problems of man's conduct with his fellow men, but also of man's conduct toward nature. Life is a unity; the biosphere is a complex network of interrelations among all the
sympathize with the teachings of Buddha, that
tically, I see
host of living things.
Man,
in gaining the godlike quality of awareness,
has also acquired a godlike responsibility. The questions of the nature of
'
and the beasts, with the trees of the forests and the fish of the seas, become ethical questions: questions of what is good and right not only for man himself, but for the Hving world as a whole. In the words of Aldo Leopold, we need to develop an ecological conscience.
his relationships with the birds
Man
and

esthetic appreciation of nature
is
487
relatively
It is
someimes said that the
new, that the Greeks, for instance, did not admire landscapes. The matter can be argued and I don't know that anyone has made a careful study of
tions.
changing attitudes, or of diiferences in attitude among the great civilizaWithin our own civilization, it looks as though the conscious appre-
ciation of the beauties of nature
had
its
roots in the so-called
Romantic
plainly in
Movement
of the Eighteenth Century.
We
can see
this
most
literature, in
clear in the other arts, though
landscape painting and in landscape architecture. It is less Lovejoy plausibly equates it with the love
of diversity and the search for
new forms
that characterize
Western
art
generally in the last two centuries.

It looks as though man's esthetic appreciation of nature increases as the development of his civilization removes him from constant and immediate contact with nature. The peasant hardly notices the grandeur of the view from his fields; the woodsman is not impressed by stately trees, nor the
fisherman by the forms and colors on the
reefs.
In part, this
is
the general
until
problem of not seeing the

it is lost.
familiar, of not appreciating
what we have
The reasons behind
the conservation
movement, from
this point of view,
are similar to the reasons for preserving antiquities, for maintaining
mu-
seums of art or history or science. Nature is beautiful, therefore it should not be wantonly destroyed. Representative landscapes should be preserved
because of their esthetic value, because of their importance in
study,
I
scientific
and because of have often wished,
their possibilities for recreation.
as I
saw a
tropical forest being cleared, that this
beautiful place could

to enjoy.
somehow be
to
protected and preserved for the future
The
is
idea, to the people involved in the clearing,
seems absurd.
be fought and destroyed; beauty lies in the fields and orchards that will replace it. This was the attitude of our ancestors who in the end effectively cleared the great deciduous forest that once covered the eastern United States, leaving only accidental and inci-
The
forest
an enemy,
dental traces.
forest!
How we would love now to have a fair sample of that great But the idea of deliberately saving a part of the wilderness they
were conquering never occurred to the pioneers. Nor does it occur to pioneers now in parts of the world where pioneering is still possible. There must be some way in which one nation can profit by the experience of another nation; some way of saving examples of the landscapes and wildlife that have not yet been devastated by the onrush of industrial civilization. In Africa there is a danger that the national parks will be
regarded as toys of colonial administrations, and fade with the fading of those administrations. And the colonial powers, even with the experience
of loss in their homelands, are not always too careful about the preservation
and maintenance of samples of the natural world under their care. we have the effect of the Spanish tradition. The Romantic Movement never crossed the Pyrenees. Spanish thought and art
In tropical America
488
remain
essentially man-centered.
MARSTON BATES
Some
of
my
Spanish friends have sug-
gested that the relative failure of science to develop in that tradition
may
be a consequence of this indifference, on the part of most of the people, to the world of nature. The correction for this might be deliberate attempts
to foster nature study in the school systems.
servation
movement has not made
great
Whatever the cause, the conheadway in the parts of the world
dominated by Spanish culture. In the United States, we have a National Park system, and various sorts of reservations and wildlife refuges under national, state and private auspices. This is largely the consequence of the dedicated efforts of a few people, and we are still far from the point where we can sit back and congratulate ourselves. Conservation interests fall under different branches of government and efforts to form a coherent and unified national poHcy have not been very successful; we still have no Department of Conservation
with cabinet rank.
there
is
The
struggle for financial support
is
always hard.
And
a constant, eroding pressure from conflicting private and governinterests.
mental
Ugliness
teristic of
by any esthetic standard remains the predominant characdevelopment, of urbanization, of industrialization. We talk about
regional planning, diversification, working with the landscape
build vast stretches of the
by Patrick ears. We need an ecological conscience. We also need to develop ecological appreciation. The Romantic Movement, despite its two hundred year history, has not yet reached our city councils or our highway engineers.
Practical considerations
and we new suburbia. The ideas so forcefully developed Geddes, Lewis Mumford and others Uke them, fall on deaf
ingly important in governing

ity,
at his
on
and perhaps ought to be overwhelmman's relations with the rest of nature. Utilfirst thought, requires man to concentrate selfishly and arrogantly own immediate needs and convenience, to regard nature purely as
are
a subject for exploitation.

lacy of this.
is
little
further thought, however, shows the fal-
The danger
of complete man-centeredness in relation to nature
the
Uke the danger of immediate and thoughtless selfishness everywhere: momentary gain results in ultimate loss and defeat. "Enlightened seff-
interest" requires
some consideration
for the other fellow, for the other
nation, for the other point of view;
some
giving with the taking. This
applies with particular force to relations
between
man and
the rest of
nature.
is toward grow pure stands of crops, single species of plants that can be eaten directly by man; or single crops that provide food for animals that can be eaten. The shorter the food chain, the more efficient the conversion of solar energy into human food.
The
trend of
human
modification of the biological community

is
simplification.
The
object of agriculture
to
The
logical
end
result
of this process,
fiction writers,
would be the removal of
sometimes foreseen by science all competing forms of life
Man and

left
489
with the planet
inhabited by
man
alone, growing his food in the
form
of algal soup cultivated in vast tanks. Perhaps ultimately the algae could
be dispensed with, and there would be only man, living through chemical
manipulations.
Efficient,
perhaps; dismal, certainly; and also dangerous.

the biological community, the
general
principle
is
gradually emerging from ecological study to the effect that
the
more complex
more
stable.
The
intricate
checks and balances
among
the different populations in a forest or a sea
look inefficient and hampering from the point of view of any particular population, but they insure the stability and continuity of the system as a
whole and
thus,
however
indirectly, contribute to the survival of particu-
lar populations.
Just as health in a nation
is,
in the long run,
economy, so
ecology.
is
the health of the biosphere

is
promoted by a promoted by a
diversified diversified
It is
The
single crop system

it
always in precarious equilibrium.
created by
of
man and
has to be maintained by man, ever alert with

in the
chemicals and machinery, with no other protection against the hazards
some new development
wounded
natural system. It
is
man work-
ing against nature: an artificial system with the uncertainties of artifacts.
Epidemic catastrophe becomes an ever present threat. This is one of the dangers inherent in man's mad spree of population growth he is being forced into an ever more arbitrary, more artificial,
is
more precarious
danger
relation with the resources of the planet.
The
other great
related.
With teeming numbers, an ever
tighter system of control
becomes necessary. Complex organization, totahtarian government, becomes inevitable; the individual man becomes a worker ant, a sterile
robot. This surely
I
is
not our inevitable destiny.
not advocating a return to the neolithic. Obviously we have to have the most efficient systems possible for agriculture and resource use. But long run efficiency would seem to require certain compromises with
am
nature
hedgerows and woodlots along with orchards and fields, the development of a variegated landscape, leaving some leeway for the checks and balances and diversity of the system of nature. Ethical, esthetic and utilitarian reasons thus all support the attempt
to conserve the diversity of nature. It
is
morally the right thing to do;
it
will provide, for future generations, a richer
and more
it
satisfying experi-
ence than would otherwise be possible; and
provides a
much needed
insurance against ecological catastrophe. "Unless one merely thinks man was intended to be an all-conquering and sterihzing power in the world,"
Charles Elton has remarked, "there must be some general basis for understanding what it is best to do. This means looking for some wise principle
of co-existence between
man and
nature, even
is
if it
man and
a modified kind of nature. This
what
be a modified kind of I understand by conselfish,
servation."
In defying nature, in destroying nature, in building an arrogantly
MARSTON BATES
490
can g^m peace or I do not see how man man-centered, artificial world, faith in the possibilities latent man's future, êedor^ or joy. I have faith in a part of nature, workExperiment: but it is faith in man as Hhe human man sharing forests and the seas; faith govern the ing with the forces that
Ufe, not destroying
it.
SIR
CHARLES GALTON DARWIN

The Next Million Years
Sir Charles
Galton Darwin (1887little
) is
an English
physicist,
grandson
excursion into our field of cosmological-philosophical-ethical studies, The Next Million Years, a fascinating
of the famous naturalist. I find his
example of what seems
to
me
the logical world-view that bases itself
on a
rigorous scientific naturalism. I use "logical," of course, not in the sense
good
logicians use it, but merely to indicate a kind of consonance between what goes on in the head and what wells up in the emotions of the thinker. The thesis of Darwin's book is that, since man has in the 100,000 years or so he has been on earth shown the full range of his capabilities, his "human nature," it will take about a million years to develop a new, but adapted different, perhaps "better" species. (Or merely better adapted to what?) Meanwhile, the next million years will be much like the last five or six thousand we know from history, full of the ups and downs of human
societies
and human individual
lives, fascinating, varied,
uncertain, harsh,
and
they
exalting to those
may
experience them, but to the eye of the historian appear as a single piece, as life in a long geological era looks to
who
the geologist.
We
are a long
way from Condorcet and Herbert Spencer.
Back, perhaps, at Lucretius,
who would
surely have enjoyed Sir Charles's
book?
BEFORE COMING TO THE DETAILS
IT
MAY BE WELL TO REMIND THE
reader once again of the operation of the law of large numbers in connection with probabilities. In the events of the world one cannot of course
one can in a game of chance, can use the analogy to show what I mean. If I said that the odds were two to one on such and such a state of the world as compared to some rival state, I should not mean that it was twice as Ukely that the favoured
actually give numerical values to the odds as
I
but
state
would be happening
all
the time; I should
mean
that in the course

City,
From Charles Galton Darwin, The Next Million Years (Garden Doubleday & Co., 1953), pp. 168-181, 197-208.
N. Y.:
491
492
of the ages
it
SIR
would prevail
for about two-thirds of the time,
state for one-third.
Now
there can be
world
this
fall
under the category of large
and the rival no doubt that most things in the numbers the mere fact that there
are even at the present time two thousand million individuals guarantees
so that probabilities
become
certainties in the sense that very prob-
able things will be happening most of the time, while less probable things
will
still
happen, but only for a small part of the time. But there
may be
occurrences so rare that the law of large numbers cannot be applied to
them
at all; for
example the discovery of the

there
is
New World
in the fifteenth
century was a unique thing, because there were no other

discover.
new worlds
to
Or again
on
the unUkely, but possible, chance that there

star,
should be a collision of the solar system with another

destroy
all life
earth. If
any such rare event should occur,

is
which would it would

it.
upset
all
predictions,
and there
will try to
nothing more to be said about

will dislike
There are no doubt readers who

forecasting
many
of the things I
am
and who
evade them by the hope that one of these
rare unforeseeable chances will entirely alter things,

tion of the world
likely that
and lead
it is
to a condi-
more
to their Uking. It
is
possible, but
much more
such things will be unfavourable than favourable. Whereas small

to large changes, the probabiHty
changes produced by chance are as likely to be beneficial as detrimental,
when
it
comes
is
that they will be un-
favourable. I have already cited an example of this from the science of

genetics, where,
by means of X-rays, changes can be induced in the genes

is
of the cells of animals. If the change
small,
it
may
benefit the animal,

lethal.
but
if it is
large
it
is
almost invariably deleterious, and often

is
The
balance of the natural forces in an animal
so deUcate, that any large

if
change in one feature upsets

proved, and there
is
it
entirely; only
there were compensating
large changes in other features could the condition of the animal be im-
no chance of these other changes happenmust apply to the delicate balance of interactions which go to make up the life of the human race. Thus anyone who hopes that some rare, large, unforeseeable occurrence may better the fate of humanity is almost certain to be disappointed, for it is enormously more likely to worsen it. The best hopes of benefiting humanity are to be based not on this, but on the working of small changes and the law of large numbers, by which there is at least some prospect little by little of improving the condition of the world. In what follows I shall divide up the principal activities of humanity under the headings of population, economics and so on, and consider each
practically
ing to occur simultaneously.
similar principle
briefly in turn. It
may
be well to repeat that the views

is
put forward on
only claiming
these subjects are not intended to be exclusive. It there will be
to
be expected that
many happenings
that contradict them; I
am
that such happenings are likely to occur a
good deal
less frequently
than
the conditions described here.

Population
493
must always be the pressure of life and will tend to multiply until he is limited by the means of subsistence. This is the normal condition of the world, and it carries the consequence that the final check on population is by starvation. There will be a fraction of humanity, a starving margin, who have got to die simply because not enough food can be grown to keep them aUve. The death may be directly due to intermittent famines, or to diseases caused by malnutrition, or it may be due to warfare; for when a country is dying of starvation and sees, or thinks it sees, a neighbouring country with plenty to eat, it would be beyond most human nature to accept certain passive death instead of possible active death. The central question for humanity is the problem of the
central feature of
The
human
history
population.
Man,
the wild animal, will obey the law of
starving margin.
To
those of us living the hfe of Europe at the present time this

fact,
is
shocking
implying a condition so unfamiliar that there are

it.
many
who may
not willingly believe
This
is
because of the quite exceptional
enormous inhad no starving margin at all. The disbelief may be helped by the fact that the population of some countries has recently started to decrease. Such decreases have occasionally happened before too, but, as I have argued earlier, they constitute an entirely unstable state of affairs, in that the nations which are decreasing in numbers will die out, and will be replaced by the starving margins of the
history of the nineteenth century, during which, in spite of
creases of population,
many
countries
others.
am considering, the action of starvation can be were uniform and continuous, but it is fortunate that it would not appear so to the individual, for famines are not like that. Since man can never aspire to the real control of climate, there will always be fluctuations in the harvests he can produce. For some years there may be a sequence of good harvests, and starvation will be forgotten by everyone, but after that a few bad harvests will fatally redress the balance. So it would be wrong to imagine that the starving margin suffers a life of continuous grinding misery, but rather one of misery alternating with a prethe time-scale I
if
it
On
treated as
carious prosperity.
Even
so there are
regard this state of
affairs as
life
very dreadful, but
the normal condition of

ual, the starving
of the
who will ... it has always been Eskimos, who have the reputation of
many
at the present time
being the most cheerful race on earth. So, as far as concerns the individ-
margin would not be
in a state of continuous misery, but

all
is
rather of misery alternating with happiness, which after

far
not very
For history regarded on the long-term scale, however, these fluctuations of prosperity disappear, and the fact has to be faced that it will be starvation that limits the numbers
state of the rest of the world.
below the
of the
human
race.
494
SIR
effects of
The
over-population will be a chief feature to be considered

likely to be,
in the later sections of this chapter, but here the question arises of
the total population of the world
is
and the answer
is
what imme-
diate. Whatever food the efforts of mankind may produce, there will always be exactly the right number of people to eat it. It all comes back to Malthus's doctrine and to the fact that an arithmetical progression cannot fight against a geometrical progression. If at any time some discovery,
usually an agricultural one, should

then, reckoning
make
a greater supply of food available,
on the long-term time-scale, instantaneously the population will rise to the new level, and after that things wUl go on as before, but now with a larger starving margin in the larger population. It is by no means evident that the world will be any the better for it, but the point is not whether it is a good thing, but whether it will happen, and the answer is that undoubtedly it will. The social sense of any community, and its
immediate practical
sufferings of
lieve
tice
its
interest, will
not tolerate living in contact with the

if
it
own
starving margin,
is
in
any way possible to
re-
them. The
relief will all
too frequently involve bad agricultural prac-
which
will ruin the
land in the long run, but short-term necessity will
always prevail against long-term prudence.

a
What
is
the good of telling
man
that he
must
die
now
for fear that his grandson
may be
short of
food a century hence? So

pressure to produce
of
all
over the world there will be immediate
more food, and the forecast of the future numbers same thing as the forecast of the future of agricuture, but unfortunately it will all too often not be the ideally best agriculture. I do not know how far it would be possible at the present time for an agricultural expert to forecast the total amount of food the earth could produce, but I am certainly in no way qualified to do so myself. I shall therefore, though only very tentatively, set down a few considerations on the subject. In the state of wild nature animals and plants have learnt to live even in the most unfavourable sites, which they have been driven to
mankind
is
the
occupy through the intense pressure of natural

the total
different
selection. This suggests that
amount of living matter from what it is now. It is

foretell,
of
all
kinds on earth can never be very
true that
new
ice ages or pluvial periods,
which we cannot
might bring rain and therefore fertiUty to the present deserts of the earth, but even if there were no compensatory loss
of fertility elsewhere, this
life.
would hardly even double the area available

that the total living matter of the earth
for
is
So
it
may be assumed
all
can hope to do is to convert more of it to his own use. This he does by promoting the growth of particular types plant at the expense of the rest; it does not increase the total amount of living matter, for there must be less vegetable life in a wheat field, than
roughly constant, and
that
man
in the
same
field
when
it is
let to
run wild.
Now
under the pressure of
his
needs
soils
man has already exploited in many parts of the world,
to a very great extent the
more
fertile
but he has only succeeded in replacing
the wild plants by food plants through the liberal use of fertilizers. There
495
are still no doubt a good many parts of the earth where this has not yet happened; in particular this is true of the New World where the pressure of population has not yet become at all severe. But on the whole to develop further food supplies means devoting inferior lands to agriculture, and
such lands
fertilizers.
It
will call for
of greater supplies of food
an even greater use of fertilizers. So the possibility may be assessed by the available supply of
may
abundance
then be that the future numbers of humanity will depend on the in the surface of the earth of the chemical elements which are
life.
necessary for
Most
of
them are abundant enough
to raise
no
diflEiculty,
either because they occur in practically unlimited quantities, or because
only small quantities are needed.
Two
only deserve comment, nitrogen and

is
phosphorus. The supply of nitrogen in the air
quite unlimited, but
it is
not easily available to plants by natural processes, and to supply it in sufficient quantities for agriculture demands a considerable amount of
mechanical power. This method of getting nitrogen
is
of course already
to
common
practice,
and provided enough work
is
done
win
it,
there
seems no reason to think that nitrogen need ever run short. The question of phosphorus is far more serious, though less of it is needed. At the present time it cannot be said to be actually in short supply, though even now it is commercially very profitable to mine fossilized phosphorus
deposits, and they are used even in the soils which are naturally fertile. There are great tracts of land, in particular in Africa, which are permanently deficient in phosphorus, and these can never be raised to the fertility of the more favoured regions, unless large quantities of it can be supplied to them. So it may well be that the future numbers of the human race will depend on the abundance of phosphorus in the earth's surface. I have so far only considered extensions of the methods of ordinary
agriculture as the
possibility
way
to increase food supplies, but there remains the
that wholly
new methods might be
discovered. All existing
animals depend on the vegetable kingdom for the supply of the constituents of their bodies, but man might aspire to free himself from this limitation.
well be that some day it will be found possible to synthesize from component elements some of the exceedingly complicated molecules which make up the important proteins. The essential first step is to do this on the laboratory scale, but even if this was accomplished it would be a very different thing to make them in bulk, and it would constitute a problem of chemical engineering very far beyond any that has yet been dreamed of. It is perfectly open to anyone to disagree, but I simply cannot believe
It
may
their
that there will ever exist factories capable of turning inorganic materials
directly into food, so that they should
be able to do
it
on a
scale
it
which
could
could supply the diet of thousands of millions of mankind. Unless
be done on this scale it would not have any material effect on the numbers of humanity. There remains the possibility that new types of vegetable should be
496
converted into food
that
is
it
fit
SIR for

possibility
man,
have already touched on the
man might some day make

medium
grass into an article of
in effect only to say that
he might discover a
human diet, which more efficient way of eating
of beef. But it is to be remembered that the most of the time in order to get enough protein even for its own body, and this shows that only a small fraction of the grass could be really useful to man. The process of durectly extracting the protein might be more efficient than making the ox do it, but it would hardly be hundreds of times more efficient. And it is at least possible that, when the plant-breeder had modified the grass into being rich in proteins, he would find it demanded fertilizers on such a large scale, that it would be more profitable to use them instead for growing wheat. A quite different suggestion that has been made, is that food supplies could be increased to an enormous extent by the cultivation of the vast areas of the ocean. The prospects do not look at all good. We know that every spring the plankton grows so fast that in a few weeks it has stripped the upper layers of the ocean bare of some of the chemical salts needed for life. To get large food supplies out of the sea would therefore demand much more than the mere harvesting of the plankton, though this would itself be a formidable task indeed. Either it would be necessary to expend an enormous amount of power in churning up the ocean, so as to make available the salts from the unimpoverished depths, or else fertilizing chemicals would have to be poured into the sea on a quite fantastic scale.
than through the

to graze
ox has
I shall
not pursue such conjectures further, since,
when unmade
dis-
coveries are admitted to be possible, the subject

that
it is
becomes so uncertain
hardly a profitable field for close argument. Nevertheless, I shall
what appears to be the most probable forecast of the future numbers of mankind, though I need not say, I recognize that it may be completely upset by some unforeseen discovery. In view of the fact that it is only the existing vegetable kingdom that can be exploited, I do not believe there will be any revolutionary changes in agriculture but only steady improvements; the improvements wUl, so to speak, be described by increases in percentages, not by multiples of the present yields. The world will be covered by a population of the same sort of density as is now found in its richer agricultural districts, in countries such as China, India or much of Europe; but, in reckoning this, allowance must be made for differences of climate and of the natural fertility of the soUs. In effect this wUl mean no great increase in the populations of Europe and Asia. The soils of Africa are for the most part not so good, but there is room for some increase there. There should be great increases in the Americas, and considerable ones in AustraUa and in some of the large Pacffic islands. As I have pointed out short-term necessity is often likely to interfere with really good cultivation, but even if this good cultivation could be assumed, it may be estimated that the population of the world is never likely to be more than about three to five times its present numbers.
risk saving

Golden Ages
497
The
normal
conditions of population pressure must be expected to be the world's

state,
but
it
is
not of course a constant
state, for there
have
at
been what may be called golden ages, periods when for a time a part of the world could forget about the starving margin. There has tended to be a certain warping in the proportions of history, as given to us by historians, perhaps because it has been chiefly during golden ages that there has been sufiicient leisure for anyone to become an historian. At all events the great histories of the world have been written in such periods; Herodotus, the father of history, wrote during the commercial boom of
intervals
Athens, Tacitus in the great days of imperial Rome, Gibbon at the height of the eighteenth century Age of Reason, and however much they were
depicting less favourable times, their views were inevitably coloured by
the conditions that they
at the
saw round them. Now we are living in or perhaps end of a golden age, which may well prove to have been the greatest golden age of all time, and we too are apt to be warped by the feeling that it is a normal time. Many readers may be shocked at first at the thought that the past century, an epoch so often decried for its many faults, should have been the greatest of golden ages, but I think it can be justified. In past golden ages the prosperity was usually at the expense of other peoples; for example, Rome prospered by looting the east and enslaving the barbarians of the
Our golden age came about with comparatively httle harm to others; was mainly through mechanical discoveries which made possible transportation on a great scale, so that vast new areas of the world could be opened up for agriculture. It is true that this was done largely at the expense of the American Indian, and his treatment often does not make a pretty story, but still it was a case of many hundred millions prospering at the expense of a few millions, and so the proportion of suffering inflicted to benefit received must have been far smaller than in most of the previous golden ages. The chief benefit was of course to the white races of the Atlantic seaboard, who for more than a century have been able to forget about their starving margin, but it has by no means been limited to them, for many of the other races have benefited too, as is witnessed by the great increases of population of India and Africa, though in these parts of the
west.
it
world they have not been so
easily able to forget their starving margins.
We
becoming very conscious of the world's population problem, but now there are no frontiers or unknown parts of the world into which to expand, and so our golden age is probably near its end. In the future there will of course be other golden ages, but it can hardly be expected that the balance between good and ill will often be as favourable as it has been in the recent one. It might be that, either by conquest or by commercial exploitation, some region should gain mastery over other regions, to such an extent that it could reHeve the starvation of its
are again
498
SIR
at their expense.
own margin
call
it
The conquering nation would flourish and its prosperity was at the expense of the peoples it had overcome; it would be very unlike the colonial exploitations of our own age, which, even if they are open to criticism in some ways,
a golden age, forgetting that
possibility that
have in most cases increased the populations of the colonies. Another might create a new golden age is that some discovery should make available a vast new source of food, and that consequently
there
would be enough food for perhaps double the previous population At once there would be a golden age, but after a very few generations the result would be even more desperate than before, for there would be a starving margin of people now twice as great. This in effect is not unlike what has been happening recently, but the present age has had an advantage, never likely to be repeated, in that it started at a time when the civilized world had frontiers over which it could expand, and now it has abolished all frontiers by expanding over the whole earth. Unless there should be a catastrophe to the world beyond all thinking it can never contract to such an extent that there would again be frontiers, and it is only if this happened that it could have the chance of again exploiting
of the world.
the vacant places of the earth, so that only under these conditions could
there be another golden age, which in any sense
would match the present
one.
Civilization
It will
make
fitting
end
to
my
essay to consider the future of civiliza-
whether it will endure, permanently rising to still greater heights, or whether it is destined to decay after a period of efflorescence, as has haption;
pened
to so
many
civilizations in the past.
Though we should
all
agree
rather vaguely as to
what we mean by
it
civilization, different
people
it
regard very different aspects of
as the central feature.
To some
may may
mean
principally great developments in art or literature, to others wellcities
and houses, to others a good system of law, to others deep good social conditions. I do not dispute that all or any of these may be involved, but countries could be named, which everyone would concede were civilized, yet which have conspicuously lacked some of these excellences. So for want of a general definition the best way I can describe what seems to me to be involved is by citing an example from the past, the civilization of China. The Chinese Empire has been civilized for over three thousand years, and until very recent times has enjoyed a very fair measure of isolation. Broadly speaking, during all that time it has retained the same general characteristics. It has been ruled by a succession of dynasties rising and decaying in turn. During the periods of decay, the provinces have often been practically independent, conducting warfare with one another, until at length a new strong hand has arisen to control them. In its forms of government it is true that China seems never to have produced anything
equipped
learning,
and
to others

like
499
this lack is offset
European democracy, but

civil service,
by the creation of a highly
not merely centuries but millennia before anything of the kind existed in Europe. All the time the general character of the civilizaorganized
tion has
it
been preserved, now
in
one place, now
in another.
Sometimes
has been advanced by important
new
discoveries, such as the invention
of printing. All the time there has been a liability to famines, which have
killed off millions.
ity
The
perpetual presence of a margin of starving
humanin
has set a low value on
human
life,
and has made for callousness
regard to the sufferings of the people. This has led to
much
cruelty, of a
it could have been matched anyEurope a few centuries ago. There have been golden ages, when the arts have flourished as nowhere else on earth, and deep learning has been achieved, which we only do not reverence so much as do the Chinese, because it has taken rather a different colour from our own; but even in
kind
we
are unfamiliar with now, though
where
in
this we have to concede that the Confucian philosophy has lasted far longer than any of the philosophies of the West. It would seem that in its constancy of character, both in its virtues and in its defects, the Chinese
civilization is to
be accepted as the model type of a

it
civilization to a greater
degree than any of the other civilizations of the world.
In the manner in which
has retained
its
individual character perma-
nently the Chinese civilization seems pre-eminent, but of course others
too have survived for quite long periods.

it
The Roman
civilization,
though
died in the West, was preserved in a modified form for nearly a thousand
years longer in the East. In the

civilization
same loose sense the Mesopotamian was preserved by the Arabs at Baghdad, until it was overthrown by the Turks, and even so it survived in Egypt and in Spain. There have
not been a great
many
different civilizations in
all,
so that
it is
not very
some have disappeared leaving no heirs, still the general conclusion must be that in the main there has been at least some survival, if not in the place of origin, then elsewhere. Howsafe to generalize; but admitting that
ever, that
may
be, our present civilization
is
in
position, for
tried to
it is
dominated by the
it
Scientific Revolution,
an incomparably stronger which, as I have

previous civilizations.
show, makes
Scientific
basically different
from
all
The
Revolution has introduced ways of thinking, which can

tastes.
claim a quahty of universality, because they are objective and nearly inde-
pendent of aesthetic
Even now
the
community
of scientists
is
quite
international, so that they
can discuss together the matters that concern

racial differences. This has never
them without any thought of national or
been true of ideas in art, philosophy or religion. For example, the learned of Europe and the learned of China each reverence their own classical
literature profoundly,
other; whereas in their
but neither values very highly the classics of the own subject the scientists of the whole world canIf
not help valuing the same things.
he
is
thinking, say, about an electric
current, an educated Central African will go through the
same processes
of thought as an educated Englishman, and
no difference
in their aesthetic
500
tastes will
SIR

this.
make any
difference
between them in
The
Scientific
Revolu-
tion has changed the world materially in innumerable ways, but perhaps the
most important of all is that it has provided a universality in methods of thought that was wanting before. So there is an even stronger reason to beheve that the new culture cannot die, than ever held for any of the old civilizations; it has only got to survive in one part of the earth for it to be recoverable everywhere. Even the old civilizations survived for the most part, and it can be regarded as certain that the new culture will be inextinguishable.
difiicult question to answer is the question whether be retained within the same races, or whether there will have to be a perpetual renewal from more barbaric sources. Western Europe, which largely provided the barbarians who recreated the Roman civihzation, is itself at the present time in imminent danger of committing
much more
civilization will
suicide.
Must
civilization
always lead to the limitation of families and
consequent decay and then replacement from barbaric sources which in

turn will go through the
birth-control
make
the threat a great deal

it is
same experience? The new developments in more formidable, but in the long
to be feared.
There are already many people is sometimes strong enough to outweigh the economic disadvantage which undoubtedly at present attaches to having a family. Such people will tend to have larger families than the rest, and in doing so wUl at least to some extent hand on the same instinctive wish to a greater number in the next generation. As I have already argued, the limitation of population is an unstable process, which cannot persist. It is very conjectural how long the transformation will take, but as the change that is needed in the balance of human sentiments is very slight, it seems likely that the new balance will not take very long to be estabUshed, perhaps thousands of years, but not hundreds of thousands. The first nation or race which can keep its civilization, and at the same time superpose on it this change in the balance of instincts, will have the advantage over all others, both the civilized races that lack the instinct, and the barbarians who have not needed it for their survival. This nation will in consequence dominate the world. In the estabUshment of permanently civilized races the most important control will be this small change in the balance of human instincts, because it will have become inherent in the race's nature, and will not need to be taught to each succeeding generation. But it will be helped, and might be much accelerated, if creeds should arise working in the same direction. In the history of mankind creeds will continue to be of very great importance. Among the most important there will always be the creeds, which, without undue fanaticism, inculcate a strong sense of social obligation, since it is only through such creeds that life is possible in crowded communities. There will also no doubt often be fanatical creeds to disturb the peace of the world, and there will be others to comfort the world. I
run
I
do not think that
with a natural instinctive wish for children, and this wish

shall not
501
last will be; their
attempt to conjecture what the tenets of these

is
main function
world
I
to act as a solace to their believers in the very bleak

It is
have described.
only
this that
makes the world
tolerable for
many
The
people, and this will be
much more
true in times of real hardship,
than in periods of relatively easy prosperity like the present.

detailed
march
of history will
held by the various branches of the
with any confidence that
depend a great deal on the creeds race. It cannot be presumed purely superstitious creeds will always be rejected
human
by
civilized
now by many reputedly educated many at the present time, whose

there are
still
communities, in view of the extraordinary credulity shown even people. It is true that there may not be
actions are guided
by an inspection of
is
the entrails of a sacrificial bull, but the progress has not been very great, for
many
believers in palmistry or astrology. It
to
be expected
then that in the future, as in the past, there will be superstitions which
will
notably affect the course of history, and some of them, such as
on the development of the human But superstitious creeds will hardly be held by the highly intelligent, and it is precisely the creed of these that matters. Is it possible that there should arise a eugenic creed, which perhaps working through what should concern itseff I have called the method of unconscious selection with the improvement of the inherent nature of man, instead of resting content with merely giving him good but impermanent acquired characters? Without such a creed man's nature will only be changed through the blind operation of natural selection; with it he might aspire to do something
ancestor-worship, will have direct effects
species.
towards really changing his destiny.
To
conclude, I have cited the past history of China as furnishing the

It
seems to provide a model to which expected broadly to conform. The scale will of course be altogether vaster, and the variety of happenings cannot by any means be foreseen, but I believe that the underlying ground theme can be foreseen and that in a general way it will be rather like the history of the Chinese Empire. The regions of the world wiU fall into provinces of ever-changing extent, which most of the time wiU be competing against one another. Occasionally more rarely, than has been the case in China they wUl be united by some strong arm into an uneasy world-government, which will endure for a period until it falls by the inevitable decay that finally destroys all dynasties. There will be periods when some of the provinces relapse into barbarism, but all the time civilization wiU survive in some of them. It will survive because it will be based on a single universal culture, derived from the understanding of science; for it is only through this understanding that the multitudes can continue to Uve. On this basic culture there will be overlaid other cultures, often possessing a greater emotional appeal, which will vary according to climate and race from one province to another. Most of the time and over most of the earth there will be severe pressure from excess populations,
type of an enduring civilization.
the future history of the world
may be
502
and there
about
thii
SIR
will
be periodic famines. There will be a consequent callousness

life,
value of the individual's
to a degree of
which we do not
willingly think. This
and often there will be cruelty however is only
one side of the history. On the other side there will be vast stores of learnbeyond anything we can now imagine, and the intellectual stature of man will rise to ever higher levels. And sometimes new discoveries will for a time reUeve the human race from its fears, and there wiU be golden ages, when man may for a time be free to create wonderful flowerings in science, philosophy and the arts.
ing, far
Epilogue
future that humanity
Can we do anything about it all? The picture I have drawn of the may expect is certainly very different from the hopes
of the optimistic idealists of the past and the present. Such people
may
argue that
many unforeseen wonderful

is
things have
happened
in the past,
and
that
it
idle to speculate
about what other wonderful things the

are forgetting that
future
may hold
it
in store.
They
I
we
are living in an
entirely exceptional period,
the age of the scientific revolution. I have
called
a golden age, and
would remind them
that during the course
of history
man
has assigned the epoch of the golden age at least as often

disagrees with
to the past as to the future.
Anyone who
my
forecast
must
try to get
beyond a vague
optimism, which merely expresses the confidence that "something will

turn up". In particular he must find a really sohd reason which shows
how
the threat of over-population will be avoided; the observation that

is
it
has been avoided in some countries during the last four years
not
enough. Let him then give the fullest rein to his imagination, let him suppose that anything is permissible, but let him follow out the consequences
to their conclusion. I will venture to say that if
he does so he
will find
that
one or other of two alternatives
is
the result. Either he will
come
to
general conclusions not so very different from mine; he will find that his
however pleasant it may be in other ways, in the long run will from many disagreeable features of the kind that I have been considering. Or else he will find that his imagination has gone so far out of
Utopia,
suffer
the realms of reality that
it
contradicts the physical or the biological laws
of nature.
Nevertheless for
ing
itself in
all
of us
it is
intolerable to think of the future unfold-
complete predestined inevitability for the eternity of a million
years.
As
to
There are two things we must do; one is to know, the other to act. knowing, in my introductory chapter I described an analogy in
mechanics, and
I suggested that it should be possible to discover a set of laws, like the laws of thermodynamics, which would place absolute
limits on what can be done by humanity. Biological laws cannot be expected to have the same hard outline as physical laws, but still there are
503
absolute laws limiting what an animal can do, and similar laws will limit man not only on his physical side, but also on his intellectual side. If these
could be clearly stated,
we should recognize that many attempts that have improving man's estate were hopeless. It is for others, better versed than I am in the biological sciences, to work out these laws, and it is in all humility that I put forward the basis,
been made
at
on which, it may be, that they could be founded. The first principle is that man, as an animal, obeys the law of variation of species, which condemns human nature to stay nearly constant for a miUion years. The perfectibility of mankind, the aim of so many noble spirits, is foredoomed by this principle. The second is that man is a wild animal, and that doctrines
drawn from the observation of domestic animals are quite inapplicable to him. The third principle is the non-inheritance of acquired characters, a
principle familiar in animal biology, but
nection with
all too seldom invoked in conand any further principles as well, or any alternatives to them, were accepted, it might sometimes be possible through them to show up the absurdities of bad statesmanship, and cer-
human
beings. If these,
tainly
tions,
would be the part of a wise statesman to work within because only so could he hope to achieve success.
it
their limita-
What
action can be taken about the future of the
human
race? I
am
must be very httle indeed, and this is for the simple reason that most human beings do not care in the least about the distant future. Most care about the conditions that will affect their children and their grandchildren, but beyond that the situation seems too unreal, and
afraid that the answer
even for those
who do
think about the
more
is
distant future, the uncer-
tainties are too great to suggest
any clear course of action. For example,

to
consider the inevitable fuel shortage that
my
sons will not suffer from
it
very seriously, and
come so soon. I know that
know
that
the fifteenth
to refrain
it
generation of
my my
descendants will get no coal

fire
at all.
Am
I likely
from putting coal on the
on a cold evening by the thought that

it?
may
make one
Such matters are so unreal to our minds, that it is not to be expected that they will ever be given much weight. Life is always precarious, and it is so hard to be sure of keeping alive for even ten years, that it is not surprising that no one should care much about what is going to happen even as short a time ahead as a century. In hardly any of the affairs of the world will man really be
of
fourteenth descendants suffer for
interested in the
Still
more
distant future.
somethmg can be attempted more been usual hitherto. Attempts at improving the lot of mankind have all hitherto been directed towards improving his conditions, but not his nature, and as soon as the conditions lapse all is lost. The only hope is to use our knowledge of biology in such a way that all would not be lost with the lapse of the conditions. The principles of heredity offer an
for the sake of the distant future
profitable than has
anchor which will permanently ity of mankind.
fix
any gains that there may be
in the qual-
504
In
final
SIR

personal inclination. I do
conclusion
had better declare
my
it.
care very
much about
the future of the world, and I
want most intensely
However bleak the future, I my own descendants to play their part in am not content with the thought that it should be a world in which I have had no continuing part. No matter whether in the long ages to come life
is
to be a joy or a misery
and
certainly
much
of
it
will
be a misery
it
will
be an adventure that
is
well worth while.
RODERICK SEIDENBERG
Roderick Seidenberg (1899) is an American professional architect who has made his own interesting voyage into distant times in a book called Posthistoric Man. Seidenberg, unlike Sir Charles Gait on Darwin, thinks mans' fate in the remote future will be very different indeed from what it is
sence of a Utopia,
But Seidenberg hardly can be said to arrive at a Utopia, for the esit seems to me, is that it should represent the fruition, the achievement, of what we now perhaps only in our noblest moments, it is want and understand. But Mr. Seidenberg' s posthistoric man will be true as unlike us as are the ants or bees or any other fully "socialized" animal. He differs radically from Darwin, not so much in his conclusions as in his assumption that human culture is an instrument of evolutionary change
today.
that
can
alter the course of, in
a sense supersede, the biological evolution
of
homo
crux of
Here in a contemporary form is another old chestnut, or discussion of man's fate: Nature or Nurture?
sapiens.
THE WORLD IS IN TRANSITION WHICH IS BUT TO SAY THAT IT IS MOVING toward a new principle of integration. In the interim it is torn by a conflict
of past and future values
societ}'
or
drifting in the void of their
mutual
clash. If
once drew strength and sustenance from the inner sources of being through the revelations of saint and mystic, it seems destined to abandon this well of inspiration in focusing wholly upon the external manipulation
and the purely mundane solution of its problems. The rift is was already mirrored in the Christian ethos according to which the free will of the individual endowed man with a choice between damnation and salvation; between the hell of an atomistic, earthbound
of
its affairs
not recent:
it
existence, limited
eternal within.
and finite, and the mystically illumined vision of the But in accepting the major promise, man hoped also to avoid the minor cost: it was the tragedy of human nature that man sought
From Roderick
versity of
Seidenberg, Posthistoric
Man: An
North Carolina Press, 1950). Also available
Inquiry (Chapel Hill: Uniin paperback, Beacon Press,
1957, pp. 226-238.
505
506
RODERICK SEroENBERG
the eternal for himself instead of in himself. "Exorbitantly heartened

truth that
God
is
in him,
immortal, the willful
by the and by the false conclusion that his ego is individual went the way not of the Christian ideal
but of his all-too-animal
human
nature.
The
fires
of the Christian world
had energized him, but its values could not aim him. European genius abondoned the perpendicular Gothic spire and the deep Divine Comedy to launch into horizontal adventures: to discover and control the horizontal
periphery of
life."^
But in that release science came of age, and the world of the machine was set in motion. The rift deepened, and behind the conflict of values a new mode of social cohesion emerged. While the individual will of man, released from the protecting panoply of the Divine Will, moved impetuously
control, nurtured
toward chaos, another principle asserted itself. A vast system of external by man's earthbound intelligence, implicit in the logic of his machine, and inherent in the very necessity of his social relations, emerged in ever clearer form until its widening influence has encompassed
Thus, aware of the logic and necessity of his outward compulstill sensitive to the inward power of his inherited values,
his world.
sions, while
modern man finds himself torn asunder by conflicting tensions. In this dilemma he has sought escape from his predicament without sacrificing
the belief in his
inevitable
own power,
responsibility,
and freedom
lies
in the face of the
by seeking refuge
this
in a countervailing sense of guilt
and
failure.
But behind
fatality;
an ominous sense of a tragic awareness that perhaps the high promise of mankind is
desperate rear-guard action
passing in a
For
in
movement of overwhelming scope and finaUty. problem of social integration will not long remain suspended midair between a resolution that we have left behind and one that we
the
is
fear to accept. It
certain to be resolved, sooner or later, under the impact
of historic forces in
directed by an outward compulsion, in the very degree in
response has failed

is
and which his inward him, toward a unity beyond himself. If Western society
will find himself galvanized
which the individual
moving away from, rather than toward, the ideal of the Christian synMiddle Ages, the general trend of history as reflected in the transition from the guidance of the instincts to that of intelligence must inherently favor this wholly extroverted mode of social integration. How far this transition has progressed is indicated by the extent to which man no longer feels called upon, by an act of inward freedom, to accept the necessity of a higher principle of unity. But in thus finding his own inward compliance an irrelevant gesture, he has alienated himself from that mystic communion in the "Whole" which endowed his humblest act with a sense of participation in a supramundane order. In this surrender
thesis attained in the
man
has renounced his inward freedom: he has abandoned, for better or
for worse, his citizenship in the Civitas

or, at the farthest, that of the
1
Dei for that of the secularized state world community. And though doubdess he
Waldo Frank, Chart

1940), p. 118.
for
Rough Water (New York: Doubleday and Company,
Inc.,

has brought to his
fied
507
allegiance the emotional overtones that once sancti-
new
an
earlier obeisance,
as the case
may be
he
is
discovering to his comfort or humiliation
that his feelings
and
attitudes are meaningless gestures
in the arbitrary finality of events.
That he may retrieve his lost position is not impossible: that society whole may attain an inward freedom to which at best it distantly aspired under a more propitious dispensation seems unlikely and improbable, however, in view of an undeniable drift in a contrary direction. The salvation of mankind is not to be achieved by mystic and saint alone; and the hope that man might control the course of events in harmony with
as a
spiritual values
he has never yet attained
is
denied in the very
momentum
is
of history
itself.
But
is
in saying this
it
does not follow that humanity
doomed
to sink, irretrievably, into
chaos and confusion.
Man
has survived
in the past
and
likely to survive in the future. Indeed,
he gives every
evidence of moving in a contrary direction toward increasing cohesion and

unity
on the
basis of
what appears
to
be an irreversible principle. But, in
this reckoning, it would seem that menaced as much by the threat of survival in terms of an arbitrary, dehumanized collectivity as by the danger of collapse and disintegration in the structure of our values. The challenge to the soul of man is thus seen to be a threat both from within and without; but in fact these threats represent obverse aspects of a single encompassing movement that promises to engulf the soul under an ever more stringently deterministic scheme of
viewing the future condition of
man on
we
are
things. If man is not threatened, his soul is; and therein lies the profound dilemma of our entry into a future different from our past. The dilemma is heightened by the fact that we are aware, however subtly and unconsciously, that our entry into the future will not so much be conditioned by us as we are certain to be conditioned by it. Thus we are left standing awkwardly on the threshold of a new dispensation, reviewing our inner resources against the overwhelming drift and pull of outward trends, uneasy in the knowledge that our response to the challenge of the future is lunited to our heritage from the past. If the consciousness and
the will of man represent indeed an eddy, as it were, in the cold determinism of matter, then the challenge behind the looming unpasse of the future resolves itself into a choice between the creation of a society of transfigured
members held
together in the higher
communion
is
of their spiritual
kinship with the Whole, with the Cosmos, which

collectivity of
and a barren dehumanized individuals seeking mere continuity of exist-
God
ence in the sluggish stream of evolutionary development. Either the spiritual force at our command is equal to this basic challenge, and man will attain unity in a society of potential persons, or the "ravening" atomistic
individual of the world
collectivization of the herd. Such,
us.^
2
must seek survival in the arbitrary, mechanical it would seem, is the fateful choice before
This theme
is
particularly Chart for
eloquently and deeply argued in the works of Rough Water.
Waldo Frank;
see
508
Fateful choice!
RODERICK SEIDENBERG
words that have ever accompanied the and seer? Yet all their exhortations, from a time when Ikhnaton, Lao-tse, Isaiah, and Plato might already have spoken of a venerable past, failed to win man to the paths of wisdom. Are we to expect preachments deeper in their mystical sources, more divine in
these the
inspired admonitions of prophet
their
Are not
authority,
than those of Christ?
If
we
failed
to
understand the
-dialogues of Socrates, the parables of Christ, are

insight of latter-day prophets lost in the
we
to be saved
by the
"undergrowth of being"? The
tragedy of
man
is
the tragedy of
numb
idealism, of his vague, perplexed,
indeed
all
too humble aspirations. Only in the deep imagination
illumination
in the
of saints
and geniuses of the
spirit
has
man
beheld far-off
visions of himself projected against an illimitable firmament; in the world
of his
own
closed horizons his hopes and aspirations have driven

spirit of
him only
toward mundane ends in a
animated complacency. The testimony
of history supports the suspicion that
freedom! The high road of the mystic

ceivably, though
low road of mankind points only man may have within him the spark of divinity, he stumble on, unillumined, in the plateau regions of existence.
man seeks indeed escape from may lead to spiritual freedom; the toward a predestined fate. And thus, conwill
The
and
spirituality of
man
is
rooted in the freedom of the

rests
will.
The unique
infinite
worth of the person
upon
this
premise; and though in turn
this doctrine represents a central pillar
expresses the equality of
man
the kernel of a conflict in

State
of the democratic dogma, since it incommensurable value, it is equally the modern world in the relation between the
in his
it
and the Individual. Thus,
is
interesting to note, during the nine-
teenth century virtually every free and noble-spirited writer from Tolstoy
to Thoreau,
from Kropotkin
state.
to
Emerson, rose
in defense of the
Great
Tradition and the integrity of the individual against the steady encroach-
ments of the
flict
But today
it is
no longer the
state alone that is in con-
with the implications of these doctrines:

state itself, in its
it is
a wider system of things

aspects,
is
wherein the
supreme and sovereign
being
drawn
into the orbit of larger, world-wide agglomerations.
Nor
will the
totalitarian pattern that has crept
upon
the state
fail to
emerge in these
is
larger spheres of international scope. In this ubiquitous system of things
the welfare of the individual rather than the salvation of the person
affirmed;
and even the welfare of the individual is necessarily defined in the concrete terms of the welfare and security of the average that is to say, of society as a compact and indivisible unit. As the gravitational force of the mass increases, that of the individual decreases, relatively as well as
and conformity is attained. At no longer sheathed in a halo of unique and infinite worth: he has only such relative values as may be ascertained in the language of statistical averages those basic averages and percentages upon which the emerging system of the future is inherently predicated. But in this mechanization of society and dehumanization of the individual we cannot fail to see the eclipse of the spiritual structure of man.
actually, until a final condition of solidarity
this level the individual is
509
The historical analysis of this transition reveals the machine as a primary agency in the transformation of society. The hope that society might absorb the benefits of the machine while avoiding the evils of mechanization has
thus far proved illusory; and the gloomy predictions of certain nineteenth-
century philosophers concerning the inevitable impact of the machine upon
our
civilization
have been answered, not by the course of events, but by
the words of twentieth-century prophets who, attacking mechanization as the basic cause of our plight, assure us that under proper guidance and control the
machine and
its
technology, directed toward balanced and

to a
humane
purposes, will
become the open-sesame

the
new
era for mankind. For

its
they believe that the machine will in time be "tamed" to
proper function,
mass man, with his mass thinking and mass ethic, whose projection in the world of the crashing wheel was toward chaos, may tend to disappear."^ But a deeper comprehension of the nature of the machine as an integral, and indeed perhaps inevitable, concomitant of the transition from the guidance of instinct to that of intelUgence sustains the conviction, apparent in the cumulative drift of industriaUzed civilization, that the hope of retaining the machine while avoiding the consequent mechanization of society is wholly wishful and fallacious. For the logic of the machine, repeating always its fixed and predesigned patterns, is a mass logic; and collectivism, as Karl Marx perceived, is inherent in its laws and implicit in its operations. Thus man is called upon to pay a price for his adventure into the richer potentialities of the material realm by a corresponding exand that
".
.
,
temalization of his
own
it
nature.
in man, of course, long antedated the advent of was the norm of primitive social life, being itself a kind of biologic mechanism whereby man triumphed in his collective strength over his adversaries and his environment. But that earlier collectivism, which arose out of a wholly innate and primal social impulse, made coherent and explicit through the instruments of symbol and language, differs, as we have seen, from its modern surrogate. For it arose out of the
The communal impulse
the machine: indeed,
instincts, in
unconscious or preconscious patterns of behavior, whereas the

is
collectivism of today
born of the inherent but nonetheless deUberate ac-
ceptance of the dictates of intelligence in the conscious organization of
man's heritage, his traditions, his and etheriaUzed, bore fruit in the high conception of a communal society of autonomous souls, united in their spiritual bondage to God; if man attained, however imperfectly, a form of religious communality in response to an innate need of divine guidance, he has long since abandoned that vision. This highest social version of the Christian ethic was at once the crowning expression of the primitive community and the nearest approach to the Civitas Dei Western man appears to have achieved; but it gave way after the anarchic interim of the "unleased ego" and the "atomistic individualism" of modem society to a new collectivism, no longer of the spirit, but of the conscious mind an
society.
If,
in time, out of the rich soil of

beliefs,
myths, and his
purified
Caret Garrett,
A Time
Is
Born (New York: Pantheon Books
Inc.,
1944), p. 234.
510
hopes and
RODERICK SEIDENBERG
organized collectivism in place of a collective organism.

trast the
And
in that con-
ideals, the
means and the ends, of two worlds
are
seen in
If the
final
and decisive opposition.

life
communal
of early
man
appears to us an inherent phase in our

its
primitive development under the guidance of the instincts,

in the highly
counterpart
less in-
organized collectivity of
modern
society
seems no
under the guidance of our intelligence. And just as language, myth, and symbol were the agencies of co-ordination in the primitive, localized community, so the machine constitutes today the effective instrument of
evitable
collective integration in the social structure not
but of mankind as a whole.

distillates
As myth and symbol

and primary
merely of the community epitomize in poetic form
of feeling and emotion, so the machine, epitomizing the principle

crystal of organization
of intelligence, acts as a pure
an
external agency, unifying, co-ordinating, crystallizing the structure of

society. In this contrast of inner
human
and outer modes and agencies of attaining
social cohesion
man
will necessarily
come upon new

For he
will
procedures,
new con-
cepts,
new
values,
and new
attitudes.
have come upon a new
age.
And
thus
we may
ask ourselves whether he will establish a
new
synthesis
of values, awaiting only his of the past; or
own
high courage and direction, in which the
future will be seen in time as the fulfillment and enrichment of the heritage
is man emerging through a hitherto undisturbed surface into another dimension, into a new form of existence indeed, into a new and perhaps final phase of human evolution? In these pages an attempt has been
made
to state that question not in the light of contemporary events, however inviting to speculation, but rather in terms of a basic morphology of
through
man's twofold approach to the problems of life: the primal approach instinct, and the secondary but ultimately dominant approach through intelligence. If the conclusions arrived at in the course of this
argument appear
that
to support unequivocally the notion that
man
is
entering
his past,
upon a new phase
in his development, different in direction
from
is not to say that our own response to this vista of the future is likewise unequivocal. If our logic can pierce, ever so haltingly, into the future, our hearts cannot. It was the belief of the ancient Egyptians that the heart
was the
distinguish
it will be the mark of the future that man will between thinking and feelmg as he learned, long ago, to distinguish between his dream world and his waking world. The dissociation of feeUng and thought will alter our sense of reality, opening up to us a new
seat of thought;
world,
its
more rigid, impersonal, and arbitrary than that of the past: plainly, values will be alien to our values, its vistas alien and unfamiliar to our
The character of this new dispensation will patently be in harmony with those factors and forces most deeply involved in bringing it about and perhaps the least of these will be our own spiritual aspirations, our own inmost sentiments, our hopes and our fears.
vision.
By the same reasoning it may seen vain and futile to attempt to project ourselves into that future which will belong, in any event, not to us, but to

our
far-off descendants.
if
511
Our
faculties are certain to fail us in piercing that
future,
only because our fantasies and visions are so often a response of
the heart. Nor would the very terms of our language, rooted in the past, prove adequate where thought and imagination are balked. Nevertheless, it
clear that we may venture upon certain basic, if abstract, generalizations. Thus, noting the inherent, obligatory, and accelerating trend toward ina process tending toward the creased organization in every aspect of life
is
final crystallization of society
we
perceive that the world of the future
be characterized by a wholly new type of universal collectivism arising The impact of the machine in effecting this transformation of society is clear and undeniable. But to assess more fully the significance of such profound changes in the
will
out of an inexorable principle of social integration.
structural fabric of society,
about,
ization
it
became necessary
itself.
And
machine in bringing them meaning of organhere the interpretation of organization as a modulus of

and the
role of the to inquire into the abstract
the triumph of intelligence over instinct provided a clue, not only to the
nature of the historic process but to the function of the machine in effecting
a decisive change of direction in the further evolution of
human
society.
For
if
reveal
principle, a
its incipient form at least the evidence of an inexorable law of historic determinism, upon which its course might be predicated. Such a principle seemed clearly affirmed in the slow but inevitable dominance of intelUgence over instinct; it remained necessary to establish on this basis the peculiar potency of the machine in precipitating
if
the future
is
indeed subject to prediction, the past must already
not
an interpretation of this by Henry Adams namely, that the stages in the course of human evolution may be comparable to changes of state in a purely material system as expressed by the Rule of Phase in thermodynamic theory. The transition from an earlier, instinctual stage to a later, universally organized condition of society under
at
and accelerating this inherent drift. Through the vehicle of analogy we arrived
phenomenon
in accordance with a thesis first enunciated
dominance of intelligence seemed to suggest some such change of phase; and on this basis it became apparent that the machine as a pure and served as a primary crystal in archetypical form of organization itself the structural transformation of society. If such an interpretation effecting led to the conclusion that human society was moving inexorably toward a
the
condition of total crystallization in

revealing
its
structural edifice, the trend of history,
mankind entering ever wider orbits of co-ordinated relationships, certainly seemed to support rather than to deny this implication. The analogies suggested by such an approach to the interpretation of the historic process seemed justified and strengthened, moreover, by the profound
transformation in status of both the individual and society under the impact
of the machine.
For the depersonalized emergence of the individual
atomic constituent of the social mass

percentages
as
an
defined in terms of averages and

to
clearly suggested those
mass aggregates amenable
thermo-
dynamic
interpretation
on the
basis of statistical mechanics.
512
Behind these generalizations deahng
phase in
in
RODERICK SEIDENBERG
wide perspective with a new
intimations of
human
evolution,
we come upon
more
detailed
aspects of the future.
By and
large the direction of man's psychic orienta-
tion, at least within the
span of history, has moved from a more subjective,

of the outer world
introverted position to an increasingly objective, extroverted one: doubtless

his
expanding
command
weakened and narrowed the

this vast
domain
of his inner responses.
The
final
depersonalization of the individual,
implicit in the future condition of
man, must complete
process
of externalization to a degree perhaps difficult to conceive in terms of our
own
stinctive
dichotomic natures. For the very source of inner values in the inapproach to life must gradually atrophy; and our sensibilities,
drawing strength from the emotions, must inevitably become blunted and wither away. Meanwhile the patterns of behavior developed under the guidance of intelligence alone will spread and proliferate until the whole range of life will have become encompassed. But that is not to say that
mankind will henceforth have done with all contrary tendencies: at critical moments in the course of events leading ultimately to a condition of social fixity, movements of opposition will arise, remotely analogous perhaps to those reactions called for in the physico-chemical domain by the principle of Le Chatelier.* But it is amply clear, in any event, that the drift toward increased externalization is in harmony, if not indeed synonymous, with the explicit depersonalization inherent in the dominant forces of the future. And without fear of carrying the logic of the argument to some reductio ad absurdum, we may perceive that the trend of events must ultimately approach a condition of stable equihbrium in which the individual will be a rigidly fixed component of the mass in an objective continuum of society
and
its
environment.
The inevitability of these aspects of the future touches upon the nature of human freedom. For we may perceive that freedom, seen against a backdrop of
it
inevitability,
can hardly be a matter of choice
in direction: at best
may remain
a factor in the dimension of time.
traditionally exercised
by the conservative
ever betrayed by the reactionary

fleeting character of
conservator may express an

the
Thus the retardation

of values, for-
intuitive sense of the
our values and our world; a fear that

its
human freedom,
is
hke the hourglass, has only

instinct
appointed run. Conceivably freedom
an
illusion arising out of the infinite range of
combinations in the patterns of
and
intelligence available to the individual in his every action. If
* Significantly, Alfred J. Lotka warns us that the principle of Le Chatelier can only be applied to biologic phenomena on the basis of more or less remote analogies. A careful reading of Lotka, however, would seem to indicate that a wider principle than the one enunciated in the domain of thermodynamics by Le Chatelier may be implicit in biologic phenomena, but its formulation remains to be established. See Lotka's Elements of Physical Biology, pp. 28 Iff. It is interesting to note that Lawrence J. Henderson in his book Pareto's General Sociology (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1935, p. 47) relies upon the very interpretation of this principle by W. D. Bancroft which Lotka assailed as unjustified and inappHcable to social
phenomena.

instinct alone functions as the activating
513
agency there can be no freedom; is likewise no freedom of
in the functioning of intelligence alone there

action.
Thus freedom may be a purely historic reality unknown in the remote past and destined to evaporate in the remote future. Only in the interim of subtle and balanced reactions may we taste to the full the
peculiarly
may
understand
human sensibility of freedom; and from this point of view we why Lao-tse was concerned not to build a bridge across
this
the stream separating his viUage from one so close the barking of the dogs
could be heard! For
paradoxical
wisdom embraces a profound thermo-
dynamic
principle: the principle, namely, of retarding the flow of entropy.
The slowness, not the speed, of man may be his saving temporarily. The life span of man's evolution may thus conceivably be subject to
choice and his
direction.
is
his
its
will;
it
is
questionable to what extent he can affect
Even
his
knowledge, which constitutes the fulcrum of his actions,
no longer his individually: it belongs in its massed volume and extent to community as a whole. Thus the momentum of society becomes less and less contingent upon the pace or the direction of its component individuals; whUe, contrariwise, that of the individual will inevitably come to depend ever more stringently upon the dicta of society. The conclusion thus descends upon us that man's course is set in all but the dimension of time; and that even here the determining factors of his development will allow him no final escape. For the process of crystallization, which constitutes an
the
inherent aspect of this aU-embracing determination,

lative, essentially irreversible
is
a converging, cumu-
process that approaches a condition of stable
equiUbrium as its limit. And the ultimate stabilization of human relationships toward which man is drifting implies a gradual reversal and slowing
down
of the tempo of his history: in place of an accelerating rhythm of change he will experience a gradual abatement and exclusion of all change and variation, until at length he will find himself in an ever more securely established mUieu in a period of unchanging continuity. He will have
passed through the transitional, historic phase of his evolution, and

tained at length a posthistoric stage.
at-
In the course of his development he has been constrained from time to

time to abandon his most cherished myths. Thus he has abandoned his
animism;
life;
his
Ptolemaic astronomy that assured his position in the center
of the universe; his faith in a hereafter that

his belief in the
endowed him with

his
eternal
supreme and
infinite
worth of
person that assured
him
a position of isolate dignity in an otherwise meaningless and impersonal
world; and even perhaps his faith in a
God whose
attributes,
under the
impact of man's rationalistic scrutiny, became ever more abstract until He vanished in the metaphysical concept of the Whole. The shedding of these
may be merely stages in his diminishing stature before he himself vanishes from the scene lost in the icy fixity of his final state
inestimable illusions
in a posthistoric age.
DENNIS GABOR
The
New
Golden Age
With Dennis Gabor's "Inventing the Future" we come a full where we started. This Professor of Applied Electron Physics
versity of
circle
from
at the Uni-
London
and
too regrets the "lost vision" of Utopia; but he seems to

in those very gadgets that alarm, or at best bore,
find
it
again,
our
humanist
(in
intellectuals.
So
little
dies off
and disappears completely
in the
long slow course of our cultural history!
And
I
Utopia, Progress, Evolution
a teleological sense) are
still
young gods;
conclude that they are far
from dead.
BELIEVE THAT IT IS A VERY SIGNIFICANT FACT THAT NO OPTIMISTIC Utopia has been written for the last thirty years. Utopian literature did not die, as one might think, in 1914; it survived the first World War by about
a decade.
I recall
Some
of
H. G. Wells' best Utopian works date from

J.
this time,
S.
and
with particular pleasure the Daedalus of the young
B.
Haldane,
sparkling with optimism, and belief in salvation
by
science.
But
after
Aldous
Huxley's incomparably briUiant anti-utopia Brave
New World
(1931), no
more Utopias were
written, only dreary science fiction
and George Orwell's
horrible nightmare 1984.
Working against Leisure

from the men of letters, can we perhaps Utopias were written for the last generation, but we have now scientific forecasts from two distinguished physicists. The Foreseeable Future by Sir George Thomson (1958), and The Next Million Years, from Sir Charles Darwin (1952). Thomson's is
If
we cannot
from our
get encouragement
get
it
fellow-scientists?
No more
a cautious application of the scientific method, neither very encouraging,
nor disturbing, but Darwin's

is,
is
a profoundly depressing book. His thesis,
moving towards a Golden Age, because the present is a Golden Age, and the next million years will see a sort of statistical fluctuation around a level rather lower than the present. I have no
briefly, that
we
are not
From Dennis Gabor,

13-16.
"Inventing the Future," Encounter, London.
May
1960, pp.
514
The New Golden Age

wish to give a rival forecast of the next million years, but
I
515
want
to give
my
view, for what
it is
worth, of the near future.
My
thesis
is,
briefly, that
from a purely material point of view a "Golden Age" is at hand but that there are immensely strong forces at work to prevent us entering it for the next few generations and that there is nobody to show us the way to it. The plain fact is that science and technology have immensely enlarged the set of "possible worlds." Until quite recently, the majority of people had to work hard to keep a leisured minority. We are now for the first time in history faced with the possibility of a world in which only a minority need work, to keep the great majority in idle luxury. Soon the minority which has to work for the rest may be so small that it could be entirely recruited from volunteers, who prefer the joys of a useful and even of a dedicated life
to idleness.
Men
dream
have always envied the leisured

of leisure for
all is
classes,
but
it
now
appears that the
turning into a nightmare. Indeed, to think of
the privileged classes of the past

aristocracies of the past
is enough to make one doubtful. The had two great psychological satisfactions which
would be denied to a leisured majority: they could command human service, and they beUeved themselves to be elites. Yet for the averagely gifted members of the privileged classes life became bearable only by hard drinking! The leisured society of the future is still mostly below the horizon, but it seems to me that our contemporary world has already developed several very strong defence mechanisms to prevent it from becoming a reality. The first defence mechanism is Parkinson's Law: "Work automatically expands so as to fill the available time." Though this great law was first formulated in this country, if we want to see it in action we must look to the United States, the most advanced and richest industrial country, where "to-morrow is already here." In the United States in 1957, for the first time in history, the "white-collar workers" have outnumbered the "bluecollar workers"; there are now more paper-pushers than tool-pushers. It is only surprising why they do not outnumber them 3:1 or 4: 1. Not very long ago the great majority of mankind had to work in agriculture; even in the U.S. in 1900 the proportion was 31 per cent. To-day less than 12 per cent
are sufficient to produce so
much food
their
that a great fraction of

diet,
it
goes daily
down
the drains, that millions are
on a slimming
the producers of
canned foods advertise that

that of their competitors.
food has
less calories
per weight than
Or look at the car industry, where less than a milHon workers produce so many cars that they can be sold fast enough only by employing all the means of high-pressure salesmanship to make customers change them long before the cart
the growth of paper-pushers
starts
are very clear manifestations of Parkinson's
Law. But looking
showing signs of wear. These at it this way,
is not a tumour; it is the healthy reaction of a which people have been brought up to work, not only for earning money, but also because they want to feel useful, and want to keep
society in
their self-respect.
A second,
perhaps even more important defence mechanism
is
the recent
516
DENNIS GABOR
Strong increase of the birth rate, particularly noticeable in the United States,
but also in Britain and in France. This is quite a different phenomenon from the overpopulation of poor and ignorant countries. It is again an expression of our healthy and virtuous civilisation; people have
more babies
not because they cannot help it, but because they love having children. Nevertheless, apart from the very different motivation, it looks dangerously
Malthus' Law, on which Darwin based his pessimistic outlook; the law that a population tends to increase up to the starvation limit. I am inclined to take a less serious view of this, as may be seen from my putting Malthus' Law on the same level as Parkinson's Law. I do not beUeve that
like in highly civilised countries the
level,
but
it
looks to
me
as
if it
population need grow up to the starvation had a tendency to grow up to a level sufficient
ban the nightmare of leisure for everybody. ^Dethird defence mechanism, and a very strong one, is, of course fence. All I need say about it is that much of the effort in all industrial countries goes into making the most devihshly ingenious products of the human mind, which at best will never be used, at worst might destroy all
to
of us. a fourth defence mechanism ready against and I am glad to say that at least this one is wholly laudable. It is aid to the under-developed countries of the East. It is not on a large scale, and it will not last long, as these countries are already making a too easy
life,
Our contemporary world has
very determined efforts to raise themselves to a higher technological level;

it lasts it will be good for them, and good for us. These four, as I see it, are the chief defence mechanisms of our society against the nightmare of a leisured world, for which we are socially and psychologically unprepared. I do not feel competent to give an opinion on the question whether mankind can or cannot be conditioned to bear leisure without boredom, and without losing that magnificent spirit by which a poor animal, almost toothless and clawless, has raised itself gradually to the status of modern man. For my part, I should be satisfied with a compromise, because man in the past has shown rather too much fighting spirit. But I can see little sign of any preparations to meet this problem in our Western civilisation, and none at all in the Soviet Union where the official
but while
creed
is,
of course, to deny the existence of the problem altogether.^ This
may
well be a great danger, because they are

official attitude
making such great
strides in
of Marxists is, I believe, well illustrated by the following quotation from the late Frederic Joliot: "There are those who object to the view of progress which depends upon shorter working hours on the grounds that then people will not know what to do with their leisure, and will let themselves lapse into idleness and immorality. Such fears are groundless, because the time saved on working hours will open up to the individual a culture rich enough to induce him to work spontaneously during his leisure at the things he enjoys, and even attain the supreme joy of creative achievement in the realm of art and of science." (Quelques reflexions sur I'energie, Physique et Chimie, Paris, 1958.) To believe this one would have to believe first either that in future everybody will be exceptionally gifted, or that the less gifted members of the old leisured classes were driven to drink by a bad conscience.
^The
The New Golden Age

their industrial
517
development that they may well take the step from poverty one generation, instead of the two or three of the Western countries, psychologically completely unprepared and with all their dynato plenty in
mism
stiU in their blood.
new new "Golden Age" which has now vision, which could guide us on become physically possible, but only physically. All we have is the pedestrian dream of the trade unions of the 35-hour week, the 24-hour week, and so on. But even this is not certain, because work which is not necessary to sustain life may have to come back as occupational therapy. This reIt is
a sad thought indeed that our civilisation has not produced a

into the
minds
tories,
me
of the pathetic picture of the
dog
in the old physiological labora-
climbing endlessly up a moving ramp. The dog will never get anyit
where, but at least
will
keep
in fine fettle.
The Lost Vision
Who
is
responsible for this tragi-comedy of
Man
frustrated
by success?
is
If the intellectuals at the
other side of the fence say that the fault
ours,
in-
of the scientists and inventors,
we
are not in a position to deny

I
it.
But
stead of bowing our heads in shame,

tion,
think
we ought
to return the accusa-
and ask:
is
"Who
has
left
Mankind without a Vision?" The

is
predictable
part of the future

it
may be
a job for electronic predictors, but that part of

largely a matter of free
scientists,
which
it
not predictable, which
human
choice,
is
not the business of machines, nor of
not even of psychologists,
but
ought to be, as
it
was
in the great
of the inspired humanists, of the poets
epochs of the past, the prerogative and writers. And for more than a
little
generation
we
receive
from these quarters
else
but more or less
polished expressions of despair and disgust.
book,
Some thirty years ago the French critic Julien Benda wrote a famous La Trahison des Clercs, in which he accused the "clercs," the writers
freedom,
and thinkers (who by their vocation had the duty to uphold the ideals of justice, and the dignity of the individual) of "treason" by embracing dogma of one sort or another, or the creed of extreme nationalism. Today we are faced with a new treason of the clercs oh, nothing as crude and no criminal as the treason of the French intellectuals Barres and Maurras treason by commission, but only by omission: by not giving us a vision for which to live. Until such time when our clercs change their mind, and come up from their depths of comfortable and complacent despair, we shall have to muddle through, from invention to invention. And if we want a measure of hope, we must not turn to the intellectuals; we must look at the present and
into the past.
In the present
we can
see
more simple happiness of the
Common Man
its
than has ever existed in the world. Even uniformity can have
delights.
Some
row
years ago I saw in the
of houses, as far as
Yorker the following cartoon: a suburban the eye can see, and through every gate steps a
New
518
young man, who has
with wagging runs a
little
DENNIS GABOR
just arrived
with the commuter's train.

litde toddler,
little
dog
tail
runs out to greet every young man, behind every dog
toddler,
and behind every

is
on
the doorstep, stands
a smiling young wife. This

derful for those
stereotyped happiness, but unique and wonthings can
who
itself
live
it.
Worse
happen
to
humanity than
this
scene repeating
through a hundred generations!

in the present.
This
is
what we can see
see our ancestors,

sheltering
men
with
much
under dripping trees from these poor savages to the distinguished audience following my remarks seems to me worth while. It will be for another in another historic epoch before another audience, to draw the balance of splendours and miseries and to decide whether the rest of the journey was necessary.
led
Looking into the past, we can same capabilities as ours, miserably from the cold pelting rain. The journey which
the
POSTSCRIPT
THE TRADITION OF THE ENLIGHTENMENT
The Tradition of the Enlightenment
DARE NOT CALL THESE WORDS A CONCLUSION, BUT I SHOULD LIKE TO TRY on the way to clearing up in his own mind and for himself some of the stimulating confusions the contents of this book should have bred. Or at least, I should like to start him on the way to clarifying some issues sufficiently so that the confusions can be put up with. What the thinker tries to organize by means of thinking never gets
I
to Start a conscientious reader
organized in
its
entirety so long as the thinker keeps trying to "test" that
organization "empirically"; or
professional philosopher
as
our
language here can never satisfy the
it
cannot be wholly organized as truth so long
we
it
try to verify the truth of
our ideas by what

I,
common
sense and natural
science are at bottom in agreement to call "facts." Francis
put
clearly in the
is
Novum Organum (Book
aphorism 10)
Bacon long ago The subtilty

:
of nature
jar
beyond
that of sense or of the understanding. to less confidently rationalist or empiricist

different
The thought has occurred

thinkers than Bacon.
Here are two very
contemporary expressions
of this never-to-be-forgotten (but often so forgotten) commonplace.

Definition
is
ordinarily supposed to produce clarity in thinking. It
is
not gen-
erally recognized that the
more we
define our terms the less descriptive they

in using them.^
become and
cannot, for
the
more
difficulty
we have
through science I can seize phenomena and enumerate them, I apprehend the world. Were I to trace its entire relief with my finger, I should not know any more. And you give me the choice between a description that is sure but that teaches me nothing and hypotheses that claim to teach me but that are not sure.^
I realize that if
all that,
More crudely put: the human brain just can't hold the universe. It is absurd to try to understand, and expect others to understand as we do, the status system in the United States, the meaning of Marxism-Leninism, the
ways of God
to
man, and of man
to
God, the
state of Nature, the future of
democracy. Absurd, and absolutely necessary. For any foreseeable future, and in
spite of the popularizers of logical positivism, men are going to spend milUons of hours at this essential human task of asking questions they cannot answer to the universal satisfaction of the race, cannot even answer in the ^Thurman Arnold, The Folklore of Capitalism, quoted in Marston Bates, The Forest and the Sea (New York: Random House, 1960), p. 130. Âlbert Camus, The Myth of Sisyphus (New York: Vintage Books, 1960), p. 15.
521
522
justified
POSTSCRIPT
hope
it is
that inspires the scientist to believe he can find the causal

difficulties in the structure of
agent or agents of cancer, or clear up the
the
atom
as
now
pictured. I
am
willing to be quite dogmatic
on
this point.
Metaphysics
is an essential thing. Here we face another and related problem. The statement
that questions
about man's condition

out
this
book
cannot be given answers

condition, put
it is
questions like those
we have encountered through-
universally accepted as correct, or
"true," has of course to be tagged as itself a metaphysical position, a state-
most simply as a form of relativism, or from the historical record that relativist and skeptical philosophies, though held with determination by some thinkers, go somehow against the grain of most human thinking-and-feeling. Here again I must risk being brief and dogmatic: Over the centuries, Westskepticism.
ment on man's
And
crystal-clear
ern thought has in the balance held relativism

tivism of "one man's virtue
is
especially the ethical rela-
disreputable, and no and man's place in it. Now orthodox Christianity, and indeed any transcendental organization of human sense-experience which holds that such organization is superior to, master of, prior to, more complete than such sense-experience, has minimal trouble with this most human dilemma of relative-absolute. The statement, "Those whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder" from the Anglican Book of Common Prayer solves, for the true believer, the problem of divorce, at bottom because God any god is well above
another man's vice"
true description of the universe
sociology, social psychology,

ethics.
J.
and
in our squabbling
human
sense,
above
Job came to understand

to the historian of ideas
this
very well indeed, though I'm afraid
B. never will.
one of the basic sources of the kind of so clearly to our attention is the gap left for many Westerners of the faith I have called Enlightened between their age-old desire to know the Truth and the rigid yes, I mean rigid relativism of the natural science they have espoused as a guide to all human
difficulty
For
Professor
Murray brings
activities.
it
after a fashion.
its
Of course many Enlightened manage to forget the The religion of the Enlightenment is young, warring sects in their fecund variety give good evidence
gap, or bridge
lusty,
growing
is so.
that this
But the gap remains, and it will have to be attended to, or our pessimistic and alienated intellectuals will continue to be more numerous than is socially desirable (yes indeed, the high-minded intellectual is a fine antiseptic but you can easily get too much of any antiseptic). In brief: science has to be relativistic and skeptical; the scientist never can believe that he has mastered Nature; he cannot actually believe that his
"laws" exist wholly outside his mind; indeed. Professor Gabor's provocative
phrase, "inventing the future,"
knows
or should know
comes naturally
all
to a scientist because
he
that he invents, does not merely discover, his
laws; the scientist must shy

to the terms he uses
away from
by outsiders
the absolutist unplications given
or misguided scientists
when
they are
The Tradition
of the Enlightenment
523
hypostasized, and capitalized, as Evolution, Force, yes, even as Nature,
even as the Expanding Universe.
Now
pily a
a great
many
very intelligent people can, apparently, accept haprelativist
nature as the scientist shows
and skeptical of ultimates, can take minus an initial capital and minus any moral purpose recognizable to us humans, minus any interest in us, and certainly not wholly to be conquered by us, even when we follow Bacon's injunction to conquer by obeying her. Her? The hypostasizing habit is deepworld-view essentially
it
to them,
seated indeed, surely not just a matter of Latin gender.
Still,
a great
many
people can
now once more
see nature with Lucretius:
natura videtur
libera continuo
dominis privata superbis
ipsa sua per se sponte
omnia
dis agere expers.
Nature
is
herself able to
seen to be free at once and rid of proud masters, do what she does by herself without the gods.
Clearly
many
of those
whose work we have been reading have happily ad-
justed themselves to the world of science.
later
The Stoics, the Epicureans, a great many others in the great days of Graeco-Roman culture did very well without the consolations of "religion." Our modern existentialists, however, though their basic position is singularly like that of these Graeco-Roman rationalists, take things much harder. We come to what is surely near the heart of the modern diflficulty. Epictetus and Lucretius were no democrats, and they had never been exposed to a systematic doctrine of Progress. We moderns are almost all democrats, and we have all been brought up to believe in Progress, and we cannot help but show the effects of this upbringing. We must want to make
converts of the many, must want
the
all
men
to agree with us,
must want
to raise
been thought and planned. We want, as the Christians have always wanted, to raise the many to the heights of the few, to achieve the standards of an aristocracy for a democracy. But we want to do this without the transcendental world-view of Chris-
many
to the best that has
tianity,
without the authoritarian traditions of Christianity, without the
certitudes of Christianity, without the slowly developed Christian

filling
way
of
by first-rate blah-blah (remember the references to Stuart Chase, pp. 309 and 320) the horrid gap between what we want to be and what we are. We want to eliminate entirely from this world what our Christian predecessors called evil, and which we too find evil. But our world-view that Nature is All (pardon my capitals) surely gives us no reason to hold that evil is not just as natural a part of man's
by
ritual,
by
skilled cure of souls,
condition as
is
good:
we make
ourselves, but out of materials that long

differently
experience has
shown cannot be used very
from the way they
have been used.

I
And
they are very uneven, as well as Umited, materials.

think that the
do not
for a
moment
many can come anywhere near

sees
it
seeing the universe as, for instance,

single
Mr. Bridgman
(see p. 328).
him out because he
states very clearly the aristocratic individualism
524
implicit in
POSTSCRIPT
what
I shall call
extreme
scientific rationalism.
Read
carefully
his last pages.
He
holds so firmly to the fine scientific concept of flux as

it is
bearable, indeed enjoyable, that he can suggest that the
possible that "in
predawn of
it
history the
human
race took a fork in the road which
com-
mitted
to the use of the
mechanism of words with
their static [and abit
solutist?]
meanings instead of a fork which might have allowed
to re-
But was taken a long long time ago, and I should guess we should have to have Sir Charles Gallon Darwin's brand-new species before we could do a great deal in our abstract thinking to be more faithful to "things
produce more
the fork
faithfully the fluent character of things as they are."
as they are."
somehow include
by the kind of
taught them. Their
For things
as they are
our
culture,
our
institutions, as well as
"nature"
several billion
human
beings utterly unable to change,
effort
we
call thinking, the basic beliefs their society
has
can indeed be changed, as we who have lived through the last fifty years know well, and as what is happening in Africa today illustrates with particular clarity. But they cannot be changed as those of a few, a very few, aristocrats of a sort, can be changed by
lives, their cultures,
hard thinking of the kind we have here sought to gather from so many sources. To change the behavior of the many, the thinking of the few has to be transmuted into a
thinking of Mr.
faith,
Bridgman
or indeed,
I
emotion-charged, dogmatic, quite unlike the

quite unlike
it
much
of the thinking
illustrated in this anthology.
repeat,
is
inconceivable that the
many
should ever, in a measurable time, be capable of assuming the mental

stance of the scientist qua scientist, or of acquiring a consistent world-view
like his.
This fact ought to allay some of the worst fears of our alienated
lectuals.
intel-
There may be, as Dr. Dubos suggests (p. 468), a kind of homeostatic balance in even our disturbed society, a balance maintained by the unthinking many. And certainly it is no cynicism but rather the opposite, to suggest that, on the empirical evidence held so dear by the Enlightened, it is fortunate for social stability that the billions of the human race do not use their minds on matters that have exercised you and me in this book. Think of our existing conflicts of ideas and ideals multiplied, as the law of probability would have it, many thousands of times! And yet the troubled in soul are many, and their trouble may be seeping down further and more rapidly than I have admitted. Some months ago I talked on this "alienation of the intellectuals" to a group of fourth-year medical students, insisting that most Americans, not intellectuals, were not alienated, nor even disturbed. One of the group, specializing it is true in psychi-
anyone who had any experience of clinics knew well number, of ordinary people are disturbed, worry themselves sick nowadays. I felt I had to remind him that for
atry, said firmly that
that a very great number, an unusual
millions today his profession has taken over the cure of souls, that he
is
in a
sense preparing for the priesthood of science, that priests have always
had
The Tradition
to
is
525
born to trouble. I need hardly say that I made no imall, he had had clinical practice, and I had not. Grant then that we all need a new faith, a faith not in flux, not in the a faith that Truth is to be found, not just relativism of natural science invented. But finding the Truth, the way of reUgion, is very different from inventing the truth, the way of science. The social scientist, even with the aid of history, has difficulty understanding the genesis and growth of the Taoism, Conhigher religions of the past. For one thing, they are few
know
that
man
pression on him, and after
fucianism, Buddhism, Zoroastrianism, Judaism, Christianity, Islam, their
and perhaps the still somewhat inchoate rehgion of EnUghtenment to make a good set of case histories, and most of them too little known sociologically. But one factor does seem to me clear: A great charismatic evangelist must precede and call forth the evangel. I do not mean just a Billy Sunday or a Billy Graham; I mean a Moses, a Christ, a
variants,
too few
Buddha, a Mohammed.
torian
It is
such in their beginnings from the cultist, the faddist, the minor prophet. And, unpleasant though it may be for some of us to face the prospect, the most Hkely, perhaps merely the least unlikely, candidate for such a place as founder of a great religion in our time would
to distinguish
hard indeed
I write
now
as a naturalistic his-
appear to be Karl Marx. Such a founder, but a gentler one,

I feel sure, in
an academic
chair. Until
with the present multiplicity of

genuinely and fully
in our free West,
may be amongst us now, though not, he comes, we shall have to put up world- views. Few of these world- views are
or cynical. Their holders hitherto
is
relativist, skeptical,
where
this
"multanimity"
greatest,
have got along

the
to-
gether in part because our early

ligion has led to a
modern experience with
Wars
of
Re-
kind of pragmatic acceptance of the impossibility of imposing unanimity in these matters by authority; in part because many Christians, though not giving up their views about Truth, have come to accept toleration of differences as part of God's scheme for this world now;
in part because a strong current in the world-view of Enlightenment,
much
buttressed by Darwinian emphasis

tion,
on the
role of variation in organic revolu-
has held that such differences of opinion are in themselves good and
necessary; finally, in part because the legacy of four hundred years has
made
an amalgam of these attitudes a living force in our democratic tradition, dare one say in what Jung calls our "collective unalive in our culture
conscious"?
Some
tury
of the intellectual buttresses for this attitude of acceptance of mul-
tanimity in matters of ultimate beliefs have indeed
weakened in our cendepending on the world-view of Enlightenment. These historical "forces" well stated by Mr. Heilbroner (see p. 352) have made it hard for some intellectuals to maintain the faith of EnUghtenment with its high estimate of ordinary human beings as moral and political animals. All over the West the intellectuals are, in fact, trying to amend, remold, develop that faith, a process that on naturalistic-historical grounds
especially those
526
POSTSCRIPT
one has to say is itself a sign of life and health. Were our intellectuals not alienated, were they saying what their great-grandfathers have said, then indeed we should feel, with Spengler, Toynbee and their like, that this is
the Downfall of the West.
Men
intellectuals
anyway
cannot agree on
ultimates,
and yet they can-
not accept the resulting chaos of beliefs as quite "natural," They witness, they experience, the relative. Yet something in them yearns for the absolute.
Philosophical ways out, Hegel's dialectic of thesis-antithesis-synthesis and
many
another system that accepts process or change as reconcilable with permanence, indeed as really permanence, will not do. Yet most of us survive the difficulty, and live with it. The late Albert Leon Guerard was fond
of telling a story about a doctor's oral at Stanford in which a professor
who
believed in the flux badgered the candidate into taking a pretty dogmatic
and then remarked, "Well, Mr. X, you are an you!" The candidate refused to be browbeaten. "Yes, sir," he replied, "I suppose I am relatively." I should guess that that candidate is not very much alienated, even now. For we are all relativists, or at least pluralists, when we confront the
and
absolutist position
absolutist, aren't
blond is blond, brunet is brunet, and the twain not only meet, but produce a confusing continuum of shades in between. Yet in the "ought to be" we are all absolutists, or at least monists, of a sort. Cecil Rhodes seems to have held that the whole human race ought someday, not so far off, to be all English-speaking, preferably blond and blue-eyed. There are those
"is";
who
think the whole
human
race ought, and very soon, to
become good
democrats.
You
not only can, but must, have
it
both ways: you must accept the

including most
right
incredible variety of existing things,
human and inhuman,
emphatically the variety of accept this variety in the poetry"
human
appraisals of
good and bad,
and
as
wrong, beautiful and ugly; and you must accept the
human
is
inability to
spirit of the
full
Benthamite "push-pin
emancipation from
not believe the
as
good
or any other assertion of
this ranking, this

tells
ordering of the
human
condition.
Do
man who
you he
and
The chances are overwhelming that century America he means that he does not beheve in
believes in nothing.
in mid-twentieth-
Christianity,
does believe in a generalized democratic Enlightenment; but of course he may believe in Sartre, or Freud, or Wittgenstein, or Zen Buddhism, or
Marxism-Leninism; he may even believe in Science. This much at least should be clear at the end of our long investigation:
those
who wish
to diminish the variety of philosophical or reUgious beliefs
in our present
Western culture must first recognize that that variety has existed for a very long time. In what we may call the engineer's meaning of planning and achieving change we are still extremely ignorant of how to bring about wholesale rapid and persisting change in this variety of beliefs. The miracles of hidden persuaders, brain-washing, Madison Avenue? Of
course, these are real, but they are also limited and specific.
The chemists
The Tradition
527
can do miracles temporary ones with the pigments of human hair; they cannot do the same for the pigments of the human eye, nor even, beyond some innocent synthetic tanning, for those of the human skin. A good deal
of the
human
brain (soul?) seems quite beyond the best or worst Madison
Avenue or
or so ago.
the Kremlin can do. George Orwell looks

is
now
like a
it
prophet in-
deed, but not like a good predictor. 1984
further off than
was a decade
And
second, at least in an open or democratic society, the most ardent
seeker after
more agreement on
ultimates amongst us, be he Christian or
Enlightened, must accept the impossibility, in such a society, of bringing
about such agreement by what

least for the foreseeable future
ity,
we may
for
call in
shorthand force
force ex-
erted by government or by society or by lesser groups.
The price we pay at democracy would seem to be multanimThere

is
and even a degree of
alienation.
always the possibility that
the price
sibility
may be too high, beyond our resources. But there is equally a posthat we can pay it; we have certainly paid large installments already.
Reading Suggestions
OBVIOUSLY THE BEST

ophers.
Still,
WAY TO READ PHILOSOPHY

is
IS
TO READ THE PHILOSit
philosophy
a formal academic discipline,
has a vocabulary
and methods of its own, and it has had a long history. An introductory manual is a necessity. I recommend for the beginner one of Bertrand Russell's earlier books, still deservedly in print, Problems of Philosophy (1912) now available in a Galaxy paperback. A useful if less poUshed example of the "problem" or "analytical" approach to philosophy is Max Rosenberg, Introduction to Philosophy (New York: Philosophical Library, 1955). The historical approach seems to me a necessary complement, and here I come back to Bertrand Russell, A History of Western Philosophy (1945), now available in a Simon and Schuster paperback. Russell's bias is toward the tough-minded, but he has a fine gift of exposition. Two old, detailed, and distinguished Germanic manuals of the history of philosophy are now available in translation in Dover paperbacks: W. Windelband, History of Ancient Philosophy, and H. Hoffding, History of Modern Philosophy.
What
net
is
now
called "intellectual history" or "history of ideas" casts
its
more widely than
the history of formal philosophy, being concerned as
well with "climates of opinion," with ideas as they penetrate to the intellectual classes, or
even further. Here there
is
a classic, A. C. Lovejoy,
col-
The Great Chain
of Being, in a
Torchbook paperback. Lovejoy's

ideas.
lected essays. Essays in the History of Ideas, Capricorn paperback, are useful as guides to this particular
approach to the study of
number
of textbooks or manuals for the student: Crane Brinton, Ideas
There are a and
Men (New
York: Prentice-Hall, 1950), which attempts a
historical study
from the Greeks and Jews to the present; J. H. Randall, Jr., The Making of the Modern Mind (rev. ed., Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1954), by a professional philosopher, which deals with the period since the end of the Middle Ages; J. Bronowski and B. Mazlish, The Western Intellectual Tradition: From Leonardo to Hegel (New York: Harper, 1960), which gives fruitful emphaof the "Big Questions" of man's condition in our Western culture
sis to
the relations
among
general intellectual history, the history of science
and technology, and conventional history. Three very interesting books about man's cultural history really belong in this category: H. J. Muller, The Uses of the Past, in New American Library paperback; H. B. Parkes, Gods and Men: The Origins of Western Culture (New York: Knopf, 1959) and Erich Kahler's Man the Measure (New York: George Braziller, 1961 ).
529
530
READING SUGGESTIONS
Dr. Parkes's book has a "List of Books," with brief critical descriptions, which can serve the reader as an admirable guide to the study of Western
culture through the Middle Ages.
further volume, continuing into
mod-
good anthology, with a useful introduction, is F. LeV. Baumer, Main Currents of Western Thought (New York: Knopf,
times,
is
em
promised.
1952).
To
revert to the analytical approach,

is
some study
of logic
and
episte-
mology
essential.
As
a readable approach to traditional (dare I say, old-
fashioned?) logic, I suggest R. W. Holmes, The Rhyme of Reason (New York: Appleton-Century-Crofts, 1939). Symbolic logic clearly can't be made easy or for most of us interesting; but it is important, and Susanne K. Langer's Introduction to Symbolic Logic, 2d ed., in a Dover paperback, displays her great gift of clear exposition. For the problem of knowledge as it seems to moderns, an essential is C. K. Ogden and I. A. Richards, The Meaning of Meaning, a Harvest paperback. If you keep your critical instincts awake, I can recommend an interesting oeuvre de vulgarisation (the
French
back.
is
necessary, because of the
bad connotations of corresponding
terms in English), Stuart Chase, The Tyranny of Words, a Harvest paper-
The
best introduction to
is
what the
social or behavioral sciences
have
Clyde Kiuckhohn, Mirror for Man (1949), a Premier paperback. Stuart Chase, The Proper Study of Mankind (rev. ed., 1956) is a
achieved
bit too optimistic,
but most useful.
As
them,
for the philosophers themselves, the
above should certainly provide a
reader with an all-too-rich set of choices. For the beginner a bit in awe of
I
make
a perhaps unorthodox suggestion: Plato (Jowett's familiar

preferably in the two-volume edition of Raphael
of Plato, New York: Random House, 1937), at Apology, Phaedo, Timaeus; Pascal's Pensees there is a
translations will do,
Demos, The Dialogues

least the Republic,
Dutton Everyman paperback, with an introduction by T. S. Eliot; WiUiam James, at least Pragmatism, a Meridian paperback, and The Will to Believe, a Dover paperback; Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil, a Gateway paperback in a good new translation, and the Birth of Tragedy and the Genealogy of Morals, also in new translation in an Anchor paperback. I have chosen
these philosophers because they are born writers,
stylists
who come through
as
even in such relatively bad translations as those Oscar Levy made of Nietzsche. After them, you can tackle any, even Kant, with due patience. cut-and-dried but certainly very representative list is given in Bertrand
Russell's above-mentioned
Problems of Philosophy. There seems to me no royal road no first-rate introduction to what non-Western men have thought and felt about the matters we are here concerned with. And though I feel that a lot of pious nonsense is produced to
further the rise of a "world-consciousness" in us poor white provincials,
and
to diminish our shocking ethnocentrism, the fact remains that the serious student of man's condition in the mid-twentieth century has got to do
Reading Suggestions
531
what he can
to understand
what goes on
in the heads
and hearts and
endocrines of Asians and Africans. There are worse introductions to this
than straightforward history.

suggestions from
vols.
You
can get the "facts" and good reading
M.
Savelle, editor,
A
is
History of World Civilization, 2

a collaborative
(New York:
Holt, 1957). This
American textbook,
it
uneven, and hardly addressed to the general reader, but

Indian, Chuiese, and Japanese civilization in
does go into
good detail, and surveys our physically One World in the twentieth century. For the primitives or noncivilized there would appear to be some still one must go to anthropology. Here there is a masterly introduction in the late Alfred Kroeber's Anthropology, rev. ed. (New York: Harcourt, Brace, 1948). A good approach to the most important of these non-European cultures is afforded by volumes of the American Foreign Policy Library published by the Harvard University Press, especially J. K. Fairbank, The United States and China (rev. ed., 1958), W. N. Brown, The United States and India and Pakistan (1953), E. O. Reischauer, The United States and Japan (rev. ed., 1957), and E. A. Speiser, The United States and the Near East (1947). The reading hsts in each of these books are up-to-date and critical. Still another approach is through studies in the history of religions, an immense field indeed, which has in the last few hundred years especially interested positivist or Enlightened scholars, many of whom have felt rather superior to their subject. Of these positivist studies I have an especial weakness for the bluff, Hvely, but by no means egregiously hostile Treatise on the Gods of the late H. L. Mencken (New York: Knopf, 1930). There is a lot of
information in a
much more
prejudiced treatment,
S.
Reinach, Orpheus:
History of Religions, new enlarged ed. (London: Peter Owen, 1960), which contains the famous definition of reUgion as: a sum of scruples
which impede the free exercise of our faculties. John Murphy, The Origins and History of Religions (New York: Philosophical Library, 1952), is even more detailed, and much more detached and scholarly. W. L. King, Introduction to Religion (New York: Harper, 1954), is both sympathetic and scholarly. Two famous contemporary books by leading exponents of transcendence of ethnocentrism have to be tackled. There is the great ten-volume Study of History (New York: Oxford University Press, 1934-1956) of Arnold Toynbee, and the excellent two-volume condensation of it by D. C. Somervell
(New York: Oxford University Press, 1947-1957); or better perhaps in this connotation, Toynbee's An Historian's Approach to Religion (New York: Oxford University Press, 1956). Then there is F. S. C. Northrop, Meeting of East and West, a Macmillan paperback. Both these writers seem to me excessively high-minded, but perhaps only the highminded can make ours something nearer One World.
Finally,
my
Section IV, which deals with only a very few representations
of what I call current "Whither
Any
"quality" periodical
Mankind" books, could be vastly expanded. nowadays is bound to have articles and reviews
532
that
READING SUGGESTIONS
add
to this already miinense literature.
it is
Much
^most
of
it is
probably
"alienated," but
clearly a sign of our times. I shall content myself here
with what seems to

lish.
title
me
a remarkable cross section of such writing in Eng-
Ruth Nanda Anshen under the "World Perspectives." The separate volumes can be located in any major library under the name of the editor; Harper & Brothers, (49 East 33d Street, N. Y. 16) will gladly supply a complete list for any inquirer. The editor's introduction to each volume may suggest to the unwary reader a certain definite, almost monohthic approach, but the series actually covers the full range of our contemporary many-mindedness, from "materialism" to "idealism," from the godless toOhe god-inspired.
This
is
the Harper series edited by
r-oi
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Digitized by tine Internet Arciiive

and Sloan Foundation

The Fate of Man

History of Western Morals (1959)

and Britain (1948)

From Many One

The Jacobins (1930)

Edited with Introductions

GEORGE BRAZILLER NEW YORK 1961

1961 by Crane Brinton

All rights reserved

ibrary of Congress Catalog

Card Number: 61-8477

Printed in the United States of America

and publisher have made every

of copyright of the selections in this book.

determine and credit the holders may be rectified

to the following authors, publishers

and agents, who

reserve all rights for the matter reprinted:

From THE FUTURE OF UNBELIEF by Gerhard

1961 by George Braziller, Inc. By permission of George

by Alfred North Whitehead. Copyright 1929 by

The Macmillan Company, copyright renewed millan Company.

By permission of The Mac-

From ARISTOTLE by John Herman

A COMPANION TO THE SUMMA,

From SKETCH FOR

A HISTORICAL PICTURE OF THE HUMAN MIND

the Marquis de Condorcet. Translated by Jane Barraclough.

and Weidenfeld and Nicolson Ltd.

From ETHICS From

1944 By Yale Uni-

versity Press, Inc.

A MODERN THEORY OF ETHICS

by Olaf Stapledon. By permission of

Methuen & Co.

Ltd. and the Executrix of the Estate of Olaf Stapledon.

THE ANTIGONE OF SOPHOCLES.

THE MAXIMS OF LA ROCHEFOUCAULD.

From THE LICHTENBERG READER.

Edited and Translated by Franz H. Mautner

of Beacon Press, Inc.

HUMAN NATURE AND THE HUMAN CONDITION

Copyright 1959 by Joseph

Alfred Cobban 1960.

of George Braziller, Inc. and Jonathan

THE CONFESSIONS OF SAINT AUGUSTINE.

Copyright, 1943, by Sheed

By permission of Sheed & Ward,

of University of California Press.

THE TWO CULTURES AND THE SCIENTIFIC REVOLUTION

C. P. Snow, 1959. By permission of Cambridge University Press.

From THE INTELLECTUALS

WORDS AND THINGS

1959 by Ernest Gellner. By

permission of Beacon Press and Victor GoUancz, Ltd.

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