CHAPTER IV

THE ORIGIN OF MORALITY

(Compares the ways of nature with human morality, and tries to show

how the latter came to be.)

Seventy years ago Charles Darwin published his book, "The Origin of

Species," in which he defied the theological dogma of his time by the

shocking idea that life had evolved by many stages of progress from the

diatom to man. This of course did not conform to the story of the Garden

of Eden, and so "Darwinism" was fought as an invention of the devil, and

in the interior of America there are numerous sectarian colleges where

the dread term "evolution" is spoken in awed whispers. Only the other

day I read in my newspaper the triumphant proclamation of some clergyman

that "Darwinism" had been overthrown. This reverend gentleman had got

mixed up because some biologists were disputing some detail of the

method by which the evolution of species had been brought about. Do

species change by the gradual elimination of the unfit, or do they

change by sudden leaps, the "mutation" theory of de Vries? Are acquired

powers transmitted to posterity, or is the germ plasm unaffected by its

environment? Concerning such questions the scientists debate. But the

fact that life has evolved in an ordered series from the lower forms to

the higher, and that each individual reproduces in embryo and in infancy

the history of this long process--these facts are now the basis of all

modern thinking, and as generally accepted as the rotation of the earth.

You may study this process of evolution from the outside, in the

multitude of forms which it has assumed and in their reactions one to

another; or you may study it from the inside in your own soul, the

emotions which accompany it, the impulse or craving which impels it, the

_elan vital_, as it is called by the French philosopher Bergson. The

Christians call it love, and Nietzsche, who hated Christianity, called

it "the will to power," and persuaded himself that it was the opposite

of love.

You will find in the essays of Professor Huxley, one entitled

"Evolution and Ethics," in which he sets forth the complete unmorality

of nature, and declares that there is no way by which what mankind knows

as morality can have originated in the process of nature or can be

reconciled to natural law. This statement, coming from a leading

agnostic, was welcome to the theologians. But when I first read the

essay, as a student of sixteen, it seemed to me narrow; I thought I saw

a standpoint from which the contradiction disappeared. The difference

between the morality of Christ and the morality of nature is merely the

difference between a lower and a higher stage of mental development. The

animal loves and seeks by instinct to preserve the life which it

knows--that is to say, its own life and the life of its young. The wolf

knows nothing about the feelings of a deer; but man in his savage state

develops reasoning powers enough to realize that there are others like

himself, the members of his own tribe, and he makes for himself taboos

which forbid him to kill and eat the members of that tribe. At the

present time humanity has developed its reason and imaginative sympathy

to include in the "tribe" one or two hundred million people; while to

those outside the tribe it still preserves the attitude of the wolf.

How came it that a mind so acute as Huxley's went so far astray on the

question of the evolution of morality? The answer is that this was the

factory age in England, and the great scientist, a rebel in theological

matters, was in economics a child of his time. We find him using the

formulas of bourgeois biology to ridicule Henry George and his plea for

the freeing of the land. "Competition is the life of trade," ran the

nineteenth century slogan; and competition was the god of nineteenth

century biology. Tennyson summed it up in the phrase: "Nature red in

tooth and claw with ravin;" and this was found convenient by Manchester

manufacturers who wished to shut little children up for fourteen hours a

day in cotton mills, and to harness women to drag cars in the coal

mines, and to be told by the learned men of their colleges and the holy

men of their churches that this was "the survival of the fittest," it

was nature's way of securing the advancement of the race.

But now we are preparing for an era of cooperation, and it occurs to our

men of science to go back to nature and find out what really are her

ways. If you will read Kropotkin's "Mutual Aid as a Factor in

Evolution," you will find a complete refutation of the old bourgeois

biology, and a view of nature which reveals in it the germs of human

morality. Kropotkin points out that everywhere throughout nature it is

the social and not the solitary animals which are most numerous and most

successful. There are many millions of ants and bees for every hawk or

eagle, and certainly in the state of nature there were thousands of deer

for every lion or tiger that preyed upon them. And all these social

creatures have their ways of being, which it requires no stress of the

imagination to compare with the tribal customs and the moral codes of

mankind. The different animals prey upon one another, but they do not

prey upon their own species, except in a few rare cases. The only beast

that makes a regular practice of exploiting his own kind is man.

By hundreds of interesting illustrations Kropotkin shows that mutual aid

and mutual self-protection are the means whereby the higher forms of

being have been evolved. Insects and birds and fish, nearly all the

herbivorous mammals, and even a great many of the carnivores, help one

another and protect one another. The chattering monkeys in the treetops

drove out the saber-tooth tiger from the grove because there were so

many of them, and when they saw him they all set up a shriek and clamor

which deafened and confused him. And when by and by these monkeys

developed an opposed thumb, and broke off a branch of a tree for a club,

and fastened a sharp stone on the end of it for an axe, and fell upon

the saber-toothed tiger and exterminated him, they did it because they

had learned solidarity--even as the workers of the world are today

learning solidarity in the face of the beast of capitalism.

Man has survived by the cunning of his brain, we are told, and that is

true. But first among the products of that cunning brain has been the

knowledge that by himself he is the most helpless and pitiful of

creatures, while standing together and forming societies and developing

moralities, he is master of the world. He has not yet learned that

lesson entirely; he has learned it only for his own nation. Therefore he

takes the highest skill of his hand and the subtlest wit of his brain,

and uses them to manufacture poison gases. At the present hour he is

painfully realizing that his poison formulas all become known to the

tribes whom he calls his enemies, and so it is his own destruction he is

engaged in contriving. In other words, man has come to a time when his

mechanical skill, his mastery over the forces of nature, has developed

more rapidly than his moral sense and his imaginative sympathy. His

ability to destroy life has become dangerously greater than his desire

to preserve it. So he confronts the fair face of nature as an insane

creature, wrecking not merely everything that he himself has built up,

but everything that nature has built in the ages before him. He is

striving now with infinite agony to make this fact real to himself, and

to mend his evil ways; and the first step in that process is to root out

from his mind the devil's doctrine which in his blindness and greed he

has himself implanted, that there is any way for him to find real

happiness, or to make any worth while progress on this earth, by the

method of inflicting misery and torment upon his fellow men.

The Book of Life · 第 4 / 50 章