And here we come to a strange and paradoxical thing. One of the first
effects of this awakened intelligence is to raise a doubt as to whether
the minds of nations are as intelligent as we thought them to be. For a
long time past a kind of humanism has been current which took the form
of an enthusiastic faith in the ‘march of mind’. Appearances seemed to
warrant the belief that men, organized in modern societies, were
becoming far more reasonable than their fathers. But look at this war!
What comment does it suggest on the ‘march of mind’? Think not of this
nation or of that, dismiss the question of whose diplomacy was right or
wrong, and view the war as though it were, what indeed it is, a single
action performed by civilization. What is our impression? Do we feel
ourselves in presence of some masterpiece of wisdom? Speaking for
myself, I can only say that the war, viewed as a single action, appears
to be the kind of action that could only be performed by a fool. I
cannot get away from the feeling that I am in the presence of some
colossal stupidity. Since history began to record the deeds of men, has
there ever been seen such an exhibition of limited intelligence? Who in
his sane senses would do such a thing?
Just think what has happened. For generations past the general level of
intelligence in Western Europe has been rising. The individual is better
educated. Millions of these better educated individuals are combined
into societies more or less democratic. But what has become of this vast
aggregate of intelligence? Has it all gone into the common stock? Is it
all employed for the common good? Does the intelligence of every citizen
reinforce the intelligence of every other citizen, so that States become
endowed with the sum total of all the wisdom in all of their members?
Apparently not. Most of this intelligence seems to be wasted away in
mutual criticism, in the war of minds, before the State can get
possession of what remains. Does it not seem as though there were some
process of inner opposition at work by which a multitude of minds will
often neutralize each other’s intelligence; so that States, instead of
being wiser than individuals, often perpetrate follies of which the
least intelligent of their members would be heartily ashamed?
I am inclined to think, therefore, that we shall emerge from the war
with a chastened confidence in the mere ‘march of mind’. We shall think
more, we are already thinking more, of those other qualities, such as
the plain sense of right and wrong, with which the march of mind needs
to be blended before it can do its work. Many disillusions of this kind
are on the way. There is a feeling abroad which is not quite articulate
as yet, that the war has somehow brought us into contact with Reality,
and that our ideas must be modified accordingly. ‘We are up against the
real thing’ is a phrase you must often have heard. It is frequently used
in soldiers’ letters written from the front; I have encountered it in
sermons, political speeches, and newspaper articles, in conversations
with working men; and in the comments of distinguished philosophers.
Now I will not attempt to define what the ‘real thing’ is. I am not
quite sure that I know. But I think I can point out one of its
characteristics. The ‘real thing’ as we are now feeling its presence is
not a mere subject for _study_: it is something we have to _obey_. It is
a command, a summons, a trumpet note. In ordinary times Reality shows us
its _interesting_ side. Just now it is showing its _imperative_ side. In
ordinary times we talk about it. Just now it is talking to us. I can
almost imagine that Reality is paying off an old score it had against
us. We had been writing philosophical essays about it, treating it as
‘our subject’, as though we had it in the hollow of our hand; and
perhaps Reality was getting a little tired of hearing itself defined and
discussed. Anyhow the real thing is no longer passive. It has become
intensely active. It has given us a shock, it has roused us to our duty
and put a constraint upon our wills. The consequence is that a good deal
of nonsense is being knocked out of us. Let us hope it will not return!
We were much too comfortable, much too complacent, much too selfish,
before the war. And we were hardly prepared for so sudden a change of
behaviour on the part of the real thing.