CHAPTER XXIX

Christ teaches men in a new way, and this teaching is written down in

the Gospels.

It is first persecuted, and not accepted. Then the fables of the fall of

man, and of the first angel, are invented, and these fables are believed

to be the teaching of Christ. The fables are absurd, they have no

foundation whatever, but by virtue of them men are led to believe that

they may continue to live in an evil way, and none the less consider

themselves as saved by Christ. This conclusion is so agreeable to the

mass of weak men who have no affection for moral effort, that the system

is eagerly accepted, not only as true, but even as the Divine truth as

revealed by God himself. And the invention becomes the groundwork on

which for centuries theologians build their theories.

Then by degrees these learned men diverge by various channels into

special systems of their own, and finally endeavour to overthrow each

other's theories. They begin to feel there is something amiss, and cease

to understand what they themselves are talking about. But the crowd

still requires them to expound its favourite instruction; and thus the

theologians, pretending both to understand and believe what they are

saying, continue to dispense it.

In process of time, however, the conclusions drawn from theological

conceptions cease to be necessary to the masses, who, then, peeping into

the very sanctuaries of their augurs, discover them to be utterly void

of those glorious and indubitable truths which the mysteries of theology

had seemed to be, and see instead that there is nothing there but crude

deception, and they marvel at their own blindness.

The same happened to philosophy, not in the sense of the wisdom of men

like Confucius or Epictetus, but with professional philosophy which

humoured the instincts of the crowd of rich and idle people. Not long

ago a moral philosophy was in fashion in the learned world, according to

which it appeared that everything that is, is reasonable; that there is

neither good nor evil; that man has not to struggle with evil, but has

merely to manifest the spirit of the age, some in military service, some

in courts of justice, and some on the violin.

Many and various were the expressions of human wisdom known to the men

of the nineteenth century,--of Rousseau, Pascal, Lessing, and Spinoza;

and all the wisdom of antiquity was expounded, but none of its systems

laid hold of the crowd. We cannot say that Hegel's success was due to

the harmony of his theory. We had no less harmonious theories from

Descartes, Leibnitz, Fichte, and Schopenhauer.

There was only one reason for the fact that this doctrine became for a

short time the belief of the civilized world, the same reason that

caused the success of the theory of the fall and redemption of man; to

wit, that the deductions of this philosophical theory humoured the weak

side of men's nature. It said, "All is reasonable, all is good; nobody

is to blame for any thing."

As at first with the church upon theological foundations, so also, with

the philosophy of Hegel for a base, a Babel's tower was built (some who

are behind the age are still sitting upon it); and here again was a

confusion of tongues, men feeling that they themselves did not know of

what they were talking, but were trying to conceal their ignorance and

keep up their prestige before the crowd; and here again the masses found

confirmation of their accepted teachings, and believed that whatever

might seem to them bewildering and contradictory is as clear as

day-light on philosophic altitudes. In the same way, the time came when

this doctrine wore out and a new one replaced it. It had become useless,

and the crowd peeped into the mysterious temples of the teachers, and

saw there was nothing there--nor ever had been, but obscure and

unmeaning words. I have seen this in my own day.

When I began life, Hegelianism was the order of the day; it was in the

very air you breathed; it found its expression in newspapers and

magazines, in lectures on history and on law, in novels, in tracts, in

art, in sermons, in conversation. A man who did not know Hegel had no

right to open his mouth; those who desired to learn the truth were

studying Hegel,--every thing pointed to him; and lo! forty years have

elapsed and nothing is left of him; there is no remembrance of him; all

is as though he had never existed. And the most remarkable of all is,

that just as false Christianity, so also Hegelianism has fallen, not

because someone refuted or overthrew it; no, it is now as it was before,

but both have only become no longer necessary for the learned, educated

world.

If at the present time we speak to any man of modern culture about the

fall of the angel, of Adam, about atonement, he does not argue or

deny;--he simply asks, amazed, "What angel? Adam? What for? What

atonement? What is all this to me?"

So also with Hegelianism. No one of our day will argue its theses. He

will only inquire, "What Spirit?" "Where did it come from?" "With what

purpose?" "What good will it do me?" Not very long ago the sages of

Hegelianism were solemnly teaching the crowd; and the crowd,

understanding nothing, blindly believed all, finding the confirmation of

what suited them, and thinking that what seemed to them to be not quite

clear or even contradictory, was clearer than day on the heights of

philosophy: but time went on, the theory was worn out, a new one

appeared in its place, the former one was no longer demanded, and again

the crowd looked into the mysterious temples of the augurs and saw there

was nothing there, and that nothing had ever been there but words, very

dark and meaningless.

This happened within my memory. These things happened, we are told,

because they were ravings of the theological and metaphysical period,

but now we have a critical, positive science which will not deceive us,

because it is based upon induction and experience; now our knowledge is

no longer uncertain as it formerly was, and it is only by following it

that one can find the answer to all the questions of life.

But this is exactly what was said by the old teachers, and they

certainly were no fools, and we know that among them were men of immense

intellect; and within my memory the disciples of Hegel said exactly the

same thing, with no less assurance and no less acknowledgment on the

side of the crowd of so-called educated people. And such men as our

Herzen, Stankievich, Bylinsky, were no fools either. But why, then, has

this wonderful thing happened, that clever men preached with the

greatest assurance and the crowd accepted with veneration, only

groundless and meaningless doctrines? The reason is only that these

doctrines justified men in their bad mode of living.

A very commonplace English writer, whose books are now almost forgotten

and recognized as the emptiest of all empty ones, wrote a tract upon

population, in which he invented an imaginary law that the means of

living do not increase with the increase of population. This sham law

the author dressed out with the formulæ of mathematics which have no

foundation whatever, and published it. Judged by the lightness of mind

and the want of talent displayed in this treatise we might have supposed

that it would have passed unnoticed and been forgotten as all other

writings of the same author have been; but it turned out quite

differently. The author who wrote it became at once a scientific

authority, and has maintained this position for nearly half a century.

Malthus! The Malthusian theory,--the law of the increase of population

in geometrical progression, and the increase of means of living in

arithmetical progression, and the natural and prudent means of

restraining the increase of population,--all these became scientific,

undoubted truths which have never been verified, but, accepted as

axioms, have served for further deductions.

Thus learned and educated men were deceived; whereas in the crowd of

idle men there was a blind and religious trust in the great laws

discovered by Malthus. How did this happen? These statements seem to be

scientific deductions which have nothing in common with the instincts of

the crowd.

But they are only sacred to those who believe science to be something

self-existent and infallible, like the Church, and not merely the

thoughts of weak men liable to mistakes, who only for importance' sake

call their own thoughts and words by a pompous word, _science_. It was

only necessary to draw practical conclusions from the Malthusian theory

in order to see that it was quite a human one with very determinate

aims.

The deductions which were directly drawn from this theory were the

following: The miserable condition of working-people does not come from

the cruelty, egotism, and unreasonableness of rich and powerful men, but

it exists according to an unchangeable law which does not depend upon

man, and, if anybody is to blame, it is the starving working-people

themselves: why do these fools come into the world when they know that

they will not have enough to eat? and therefore the wealthy and powerful

classes are not at all to blame for any thing, and they may quietly

continue to live as they have done.

This conclusion, being pleasant to the crowd of idle men, induced the

learned dons to overlook the incorrectness and total arbitrariness of

the deductions; and the crowd of educated, i.e., idle people,

instinctively guessing to what these deductions led, greeted the theory

with delight, set upon it the seal of truth, and cherished it during

half a century. The reason for all this was, that these doctrines

justified men in their bad mode of life.

Is not the same cause at the bottom of the self-assurance of men of the

new positive, critical, experimental science, and of the reverent regard

of the crowd to what they preach? At first it seems strange that the

theory of evolution (like the theory of atonement in theology, it serves

for the majority of men as a popular expression of the new teaching)

should justify men in their false lives, and it would seem that the

scientific theory has only to do with facts, and does nothing but

observe facts. But it only seems so.

It had been so with theological teaching; theology seemed to be occupied

only with doctrines and to have nothing to do with the lives of men. It

had been so with philosophy, which also seemed to be occupied only with

facts.

It had been so with the teaching of Hegel on a large scale, and with the

theory of Malthus on a small one. Hegelianism seemed to be occupied

merely with its logical constructions and to have nothing to do with the

lives of men; and the theory of Malthus seemed to be occupied

exclusively with statistics.

But it only seemed so.

Modern science also claims to be occupied exclusively with facts: it

studies facts.

But what facts? Why some facts and not others?

The disciples of the modern science are very fond of saying with a

solemn assurance, "We study facts alone," imagining that these words

have some meaning.

To study facts alone is quite impossible, because the number of facts

which may be objects of our study, are, in the strict sense of the word,

countless.

Before beginning to study facts, one must have some theory according to

which the facts are studied; that is, determining which shall be

selected from the countless number of facts. And this theory indeed

exists and is even very definitely expressed, though many of the agents

of modern science ignore it; that is, do not want to know it, or really

do not know it;--sometimes pretend not to know it.

Thus matters stood before with all most important beliefs.

The basis of each is always given in theory; and so-called learned men

seek only further deductions from the various bases given to them,

though sometimes they ignore even these.

But a fundamental theory must always be present, and so it is also now.

Modern science selects its facts on the ground of a determinate theory,

which sometimes it knows, sometimes does not wish to know, sometimes

really does not know; but which exists. The theory is this: Mankind is

an undying organism, having each his special calling for the service of

the whole. As the cells, growing into an organism, divide among

themselves the labour of the struggle for existence of the whole

organism, increase one capacity, and diminish another, and all together

form an organ in order better to satisfy the wants of the whole

organism; and as among social animals,--ants and bees,--the individuals

divide the labour among themselves (queen-bees lay eggs, drone-bees

fecundate, working-bees labour for the life of the whole),--so also in

mankind and in human societies there take place the same differentiation

and integration of the parts. And therefore, in order to find the law of

man's life, we must study the laws of the lives and development of

organisms. And in these we find the following laws: That each phenomenon

is followed by more than one consequence. The failure of uniformity. The

law of uniformity and diversity; and so on.

All this seems to be very innocent, but we need only draw deductions

from these observations of facts in order to see at once to what they

are tending. These facts lead to one thing,--the acknowledgement of

humanity or human society as an organism, and hence to the

acknowledgment of the division of activities in human society as

organic, that is necessary; and as there exist in human societies many

cruelties and vices, therefore these phenomena must not be considered as

cruelties and vices, but must be accepted as inevitable facts confirming

a general law--i.e., that of "division of labour." Moral philosophy used

also to justify every cruelty and wickedness; but there it became

philosophical, and therefore incorrect. According to science, however,

the same thing turns out to be scientific, and therefore unquestionable.

How can we help accepting such a fine theory! We need only look at human

society merely as something to be observed, and we may quietly devour

the labour of perishing men, calming ourselves with the idea that our

activity as a dancing-master, a lawyer, a doctor, a philosopher, an

actor, an investigator of the theory of mediumism and of forms of atoms,

and so on, is a functional activity of the organism of mankind and

therefore there can be no question whether it is just that I should

continue to live doing only what is pleasant, just as there can be no

question whether the division of labour between a mental and a muscular

cell is fair or not. How can we help accepting such a nice theory which

enables us afterwards to put our consciences into our pockets forever,

and live a completely unbridled, animal life, feeling under our feet a

firm, scientific support? And it is upon this new belief that the

justification of idleness and the cruelty of men is built.

What Shall We Do? · 第 29 / 40 章