CHAPTER IV

THE COMING CLASH

Before I endeavour to answer the question with which I concluded the

last chapter, there are one or two additional considerations to which

it is necessary to refer, since they must affect our estimate of the

future.

I have spoken of the possibility of a new freedom for women due to

birth-control and economic independence. Other factors are likely

to make such freedom more imperative on social grounds and less

intimidating on moral ones.

The first is the great and growing preponderance of women in the

community. It is estimated that in Great Britain there are already two

million more women than men, and the figures can no doubt be paralleled

from other Western European countries. Our present moral code condemns

these two million, and as many more as the number of bachelors

involves, to perpetual celibacy and sterility. In other words one woman

out of every ten is expected to deny herself the right to motherhood or

to become an outcast from decent society.

This system is intolerable; it is manifestly breaking down in many

directions, and it continues at all only because public opinion among

women is still too unorganized to protest against it. It is already

the subject of wholesale disregard and infringement in practice, and

it will be abolished in theory as soon as the social sense of the

community has progressed to the point of removing the stigma from

illegitimacy and the reproach from unmarried motherhood. In other words

the system is bound up with the man-made convention which insists that

the right to have a child shall be saddled with the duty of looking

after a man, and, since there are not enough men to go round, women

will sooner or later be forced in self-defence to permit themselves to

have children without husbands.

So far as the right to sexual experience, independently of the right of

motherhood, is concerned, this is already safeguarded by birth-control.

The growing surplus of women will tend, therefore, through the

sheer pressure of virginity, to promote an increase in irregular

relationships, and to reinforce the movement towards freedom already

described.

Nor will religious considerations deter with their traditional force.

I have already spoken of the decline of religious sentiment in

connection with the growth of moral rigour in the herd. Lacking the

conviction that God will punish wrong-doers, they arrogate the right

to themselves. But the same scepticism which lights the fires of the

heresy-hunters encourages the wickedness of the heretics. If marriages

were not made by God, and torment in hell is probably not the result

of adultery, there is no longer reason to think that five minutes’

bliss must be paid for in terms of eternal damnation. It is, no doubt,

true, that God still loves the pure, but when earthly lovers are

available, the price of God’s love may be not worth the paying. Hence

the religious argument, though doubtless it will operate as a brake

in a diminishing number of cases, will no longer act as a wholesale

deterrent.

A more serious consideration is put forward in the name of biology.

“You are,” the biologist will point out, “conducting your argument on

the basis of certain assumptions with regard to the nature of women,

since you predict an increase in sexual irregularity not only among

men, but also, and inevitably, among women. Men, it is agreed, are

regrettably promiscuous, in the sense that, even if they are monogamous

in fact, they are varietist by inclination. But women are different.

Their nature is not varietist but monogamous, and it will, in spite of

all changes of material circumstances and moral sentiments, remain so.

For this reason irregular sexual unions will not increase in the manner

you predict.”

Biological arguments of this type, derived from the alleged nature

of women, are in my view mere man-made superstitions. The particular

argument in question was invented by the peccant male who wished to

convince himself that, however flagrant his own infidelities, his wife

would remain faithful because it was her nature. The superstition was

also useful, because it implied that, although a life of unvarying

fidelity might do violence to his natural proclivities, he need suffer

no qualm of conscience in expecting and exacting conduct which he

repudiated for himself from his monogamous wife. The notion too was

flattering and appealed readily to male conceit.

Now as to the existence of the facts asserted by my imaginary

biologist, there is, I imagine, little doubt. There are, of course,

countless exceptions either way, but the general tendency is not

obscure. While the cases of My Lord and the barmaid are legion, those

of My Lady and the groom are notoriously few. But admitting the fact,

are we to regard it as necessarily unalterable? Many, I know, are

inclined to do so. Contemplating the domestic tragedies springing from

the nomadic tendencies of the male, they have seen in them one more

piece of evidence for the satirical plan on which they believe the

Universe to have been constructed. If indeed there be design in the

scheme of things, to what sort of design do the facts point? To have

made man polygamous and woman monogamous they regard as God’s worst

practical joke, and conclude that, whatever may have been the objects

and disposition of the creator of the Universe, they were certainly not

those of a gentleman.

But is the fact really unalterable? May it not be the outcome of

centuries of servitude and seclusion, made absolute by the knowledge

that fidelity meant bread and butter and a home, infidelity starvation

or the streets? Since the beginnings of recorded history the great

bulk of women have, it is true, remained monogamous, but they may have

done so from fear of losing their jobs as wives if they did not. Those

who have been rich enough to stand upon their own financial feet, or

powerful enough to snap their fingers at public opinion, have not been

remarkable for strict observance of the marriage tie. The cases of

Messalina, Catherine the Great and the modern film star, not to mention

a score of less notorious instances, are instructive. Significant too

is the frequency of divorce among those who are sufficiently well to

do to afford the enormous fees exacted by the legal profession from

those who wish to change their partners. It is difficult, in the face

of evidence of this kind, to avoid the conclusion that the monogamous

tendencies of women are the product of training, circumstance, and

environment, and will not outlast the economic disabilities which

produced them.

In any event the present existence of these tendencies, if tendencies

they be, affords no indication of what they may become in the future.

The fact that the primitive savage could only count on the fingers

of one hand does not invalidate the existence of the multiplication

table, any more than the fact that most women want only one man each

now proves that they will not want more in a hundred years. The use of

the word ‘natural’ begs the question. We acquire those characteristics

which our circumstances and environment demand, and then transmit them

to our children in whom, being inherited, they are termed natural.

But this does not mean that our children will not in due course

develop new characteristics of their own, if a change of circumstances

renders the old ones undesirable. There are signs indeed that the new

characteristics are already beginning to appear. The attitude of

representative up-to-date women on this subject is curious. They tend

to deny the difference between males and females which my imaginary

biologist alleged, and to declare that their inclinations are naturally

as promiscuous as those of their husbands. The circumstance that they

control them better argues, they assert, more sense; it does not imply

a difference in nature.

Remarks of this kind are often made by women who, nevertheless,

live exemplary lives and would scorn to revenge themselves upon an

unfaithful husband by imitating his conduct. Nevertheless there is no

reason to suppose that they deliberately misrepresent their feelings,

and we can only conclude that, as usually happens, a new tendency is

manifesting itself in feeling some time before it is translated into

action.

For these reasons I do not think that any convincing arguments as to

the future can be based on the alleged monogamousness of women in the

present. Nor, so soon as the force of the monogamous habit wanes, do I

think that women will consent to put up with the manifest disadvantages

of a system which is based upon the assumption that it is as strong

as it ever was. It is certain that they will not be deterred by the

protests of outraged males. Conventional morality, as I have already

pointed out, like many of our other institutions such as matinées,

concerts and God, is kept going by women, and directly women withdraw

their support, not all the opposition of men will avail to save it.

What then is likely to happen?

Certainly not a relapse into complete promiscuity. The belief that

people are fundamentally licentious, and that a partial removal of

the barriers with which society has hedged about the business of

reproduction will precipitate the population into a welter of unbridled

license, pleasantly shocking though it is to the minds of respectable

people, has absolutely no foundation in fact.

This belief springs from the doctrine of original sin, which has always

been popular among quiet and well-behaved persons. If man is by nature

wicked and sinful, and woman is very little better, then, indeed,

contraception and the economic independence of women will lead to an

orgy of sex indulgence in which the population will shuffle itself like

a pack of cards.

Nothing of the kind is likely to happen.

The purely sexual elements in love have come to occupy an entirely

disproportionate amount of attention owing to the taboos with which

they have been invested. Once these taboos are removed, they will

revert to their natural position of comparative unimportance. If it

were permissible to reproduce the sexual act upon the stage we should

all lose our interest in chorus girls’ legs. Moreover, playwrights

would not trouble to avail themselves of the permission.

Within reason, continence and constancy are natural to human beings. It

is only the intolerable strain to which our absurd social arrangements

have subjected them that has caused us to regard ourselves as being by

nature unfaithful and incontinent. There is no ground for the belief

that the average man or woman who allow themselves to be guided by

their own impulses must needs be scoundrels. For among their impulses

must be numbered self-respect, moderation, and a sense of what is right

and fitting. Because this sense may be, and often is, at variance with

the herd morality which is crystallized in the law, it does not mean

that it does not exist. On the contrary, it may be in advance of the

morality it disowns, so that people thrown helpless on their passions

may find that honesty, that self-respect, that hatred of cowardice

and deceit, and the desire for cleanliness, health, and efficiency

were master passions disciplining them far more effectively than the

artificial inhibitions of a mediaeval morality based on an obsolete

religion and deriving its power from lethargy and fear.

Some changes in social arrangements there will no doubt be. In Russia,

for example, where the knowledge of birth-control is accessible to

all classes, where any two parties by agreement, or either of the

two parties by request, may obtain a divorce, and where no stigma is

placed upon illegitimacy, there has been a considerable relaxation of

the family system.[7] If this means, as it probably does, that unhappy

families have broken up and that husbands and wives who disliked each

other have availed themselves of the opportunity to make a fresh start,

we need not regret the change. Nobody would contend that society

is the gainer by condemning the unhappily married to a lifetime of

domestic misery, and it is difficult to see why the common sense of

the community which considers the wishes of the parties concerned a

sufficient ground for consummating their marriage does not regard the

wishes of the same parties as a sufficient reason for terminating it.

[7] _Report of Labour Delegation_, 1925. It is interesting to note

that this relaxation has taken place concurrently with a marked

decrease in prostitution.

On the other hand it is unlikely that those who are happily married

will rush to the Registrar with the object of making themselves

miserable by separating, simply because reasonable divorce laws give

them the opportunity to do so. It would be an interesting experiment,

and one which would enable us to estimate the extent of marital

unhappiness, to proclaim a day of conjugal amnesty at recurring

intervals. We might, for example, celebrate the coronation of every

new king by giving to all married couples the right to dissolve

their marriages, and seek other mates. If advantage were not taken

of the facilities offered within twenty-four hours, there would be a

compulsory reversion to the _status quo ante_. Or it might be better

to fix definite periods between the days of amnesty, so that they

would recur at regular intervals. Each general election might serve

as a signal for a conjugal General Post, so that couples would have

the chance of gaining their freedom every five years. I myself would

advocate the institution of such amnesties, although I believe that the

amount of conjugal dislocation they would cause would be surprisingly

small. It is difficult to avoid feeling sentimental at the prospect of

parting even from those whom we dislike, and the fact that couples were

no longer bound in law would only tighten the bonds of sentiment. A

would feel that, unpleasant as B had been, he could not very well let

her down, and B would shrink from leaving A with no one to look after

him, even when she had herself looked after him very badly. You cannot,

in short, live with any one for a number of years without dreading the

prospect of their loss. The knowledge, moreover, that quinquennial

escape was possible might lead to married people treating their

partners with at least the degree of civility they at present reserve

for their acquaintances. I do not think, therefore, that the changes

caused by a conjugal amnesty would be very extensive.

For the above reasons I conclude that the social results of the changes

I have been describing will amount to little more than a diminution

in the number of unhappy marriages, and an increase in the number of

experimental unions.

But it is not to be supposed that the herd will see the matter in

this light. Nothing exceeds the license taken by the imaginations of

very rigid people, and there is little doubt that the vast mass of

respectable citizens, appalled and horrified by what they will insist

on regarding as the prospect of growing and unlimited license, will

rise to meet the situation with panic and persecution. And since, for

the reasons already given, morality in a modern community is that

kind of conduct which suits the stronger, we may expect a revival of

Puritanism expressing itself in a new robustness and acerbity in the

moral sense of the herd.

Symptoms of this revival are not wanting in this country. If, however,

we wish to see the clearest portents of what is coming we must, as I

have hinted above, look to America. America, as I have already pointed

out, leads the world in morals as in everything else. That American

citizens set great store by morality is notorious. With their constant

Purity Crusades, Puritan pogroms, Vigilance Committees, and popular

juries of selected citizens, who visit surreptitiously and report

upon the moral tone of New York plays, they put our more decadent

civilization to shame. On what sort of lines do these engines of

American morality take action? One instance must suffice. In April of

this year, one Miss Jewell Barker went bicycling in white knickers.

Her outraged neighbours showed their sense of this vicious act by

proceeding to seize and flog Miss Barker’s father. This is at once to

usurp and to invert the divine privilege of visiting the sins of the

fathers upon the children.

America is, of course, pre-eminently the Land of Liberty, and we cannot

hope to emulate her highest feats. Efforts are, however, not wanting

of our endeavours to live up to the standard our cousins set.

I will quote at random one or two American examples with their British

parallels.

_America._ There is sumptuary legislation designed to check the license

of the stage. “There is”, we are told, “a rule in some American towns

that the chorus girls must wear stockings, although the principals are

allowed to appear with bare legs”.

_England._ In recent months there has been a strong provincial movement

against the indecency and unpleasantness of the plays produced in

London. Respectable citizens complain that they never can tell what

salacious beastliness may not be sprung upon their protesting eyes and

ears, what searchlight cast upon the Augæan stables of high society.

Actors and actresses have expressed their views, pointing out that

a pure stage is as good a paying proposition as a nasty one, and

invoking the case of the Gilbert and Sullivan operas to bear witness

to the truth of their contention. These operas, a notorious commercial

success, have never been known to bring a blush to the most bourgeois

cheek. A number of London women have accordingly banded themselves

together vowing to purify the stage. Protests are to be made nightly

in theatres at which plays to which objection is taken are performed.

“We shall stick at nothing,” said the leader of the campaign, “to make

our protest effective”.

Concurrently with this development there has arisen a demand for a

stricter censorship. I think it probable that we are on the threshold

of a period resembling the early seventeenth or middle nineteenth

centuries, when life as it is will be driven off the stage by the

Puritans’ demand for life as it ought to be, love will give place to

sentiment, and reality to romance.

_America._ A new teetotal version of the Bible is promised from

America. The festive passages are all dry, the words ‘raisin cake’

taking the place of the word ‘wine’ wherever the latter occurs in the

Authorized Version. Thus we have “And he dealt to everyone of Israel,

both men and women, to everyone a roll of bread, a portion of meat and

a cake of raisin”.

_Scotland._ Steps were taken in the spring of this year to transfer to

Scotland a film depicting the explorations of Livingstone. An extract

from the daily paper tells us that “Prohibitionists there are already

strenuously objecting to the incident which shows Livingstone, after

he has been found by Stanley, drinking champagne with his rescuer!

The difficulty is that the incident is historically correct ... and

the problem is whether truth should be suppressed in the interests of

morality. ‘At any rate’ said the Secretary of the London Missionary

Society ‘the raising of the question _is evidence of the progress made

since his time_.’” It can scarcely be doubted that if the meeting had

taken place to-day, Livingstone would have acknowledged the march of

progress by drinking water.

A straw shows the direction of the wind, and I should not be at all

surprised to see Scotland go dry in the next fifty years, especially if

she is successful in obtaining Home Rule. If Scotland goes dry, it is

not to be expected that England will fail ultimately to follow suit.

The increase in efficiency among dry workmen is very great, and if

the business men remain “the stronger” in the community, they cannot

continue indefinitely to be blind to its advantages, especially as they

themselves would be immune from the hardships it entails. If we ask

whether an officially dry but unofficially wet business class, and a

working class which is dry both officially and unofficially, does not

mean one law for the rich and another for the poor, our answer is that

conventional morals always does mean this.[8]

[8] Cp. the case of the legs of the chorus and the principals, p. 70.

The practice of virtue, we are often told, is dependent upon the

possession of a sufficient income. It is only the well to do who can

afford to be generous, honest, and unselfish, because they have no

temptation to be otherwise. But what is true of virtue is equally true

of vice, and the experience of the working of prohibition in America

shows how easy it is for the rich to procure illicit indulgences which

are out of the reach of the poor.

There is likely to be legislation against wantonness in dress. By

wantonness is meant the practice among females of unnecessarily

exposing parts of their body. The curious belief that the body is in

some way disgraceful, and that the exhibition of it is, therefore,

wicked is very prevalent among Western peoples. It arises partly

from natural prudery, partly from the property view of marriage,

and partly from the inclemency of the climate which makes bathing a

comparative rarity. The Japanese who have a bath twice a day, observe

no discrimination between the sexes in their bathing. “One day”, said

the Marquis of X who had just returned from Japan, “my wife went to

have a bath, and she got as far as the rinsing stage when two young

Japanese came in. She had to take refuge in the tank, screaming at the

top of her voice until the two young men were taken away. They no

doubt thought her a very fastidious young woman”.

The conviction that the body is wicked and ought to be concealed is

important, because it leads women to expose portions of it which they

would otherwise protect, and rightly protect, from the rigours of the

atmosphere, in the belief that they are making themselves attractive.

Thus women swathed in layers of furs in respect of the rest of their

persons, will venture forth on the coldest day with bare bosoms and

open-work stockings. It is with the same object that, though their

religion bids them mortify the flesh and refrain from making of

themselves a stumbling block to others, they will appear at dinner

with necks, bosoms, backs, and arms completely naked, a proceeding not

only acquiesced in but encouraged by their males. This sort of thing

is anathema to the herd, who cannot afford the evening dress and the

furs, and to the old, the condition of whose bodies does not, except

in the case of the incurably optimistic, permit them to take the same

liberties as their daughters. Hence we may expect a considerable

stiffening of public opinion in the matter of decorum in dress and a

return to the days in which everything except the hands and the face

was carefully covered up.

In the sphere of what is called sexual morality we may expect a growing

tendency to make wickedness (that is to say conduct which is not in the

interests of the stronger) punishable by law. Attempts will be made,

and successfully made, to multiply crimes by Act of Parliament.

A good example of this tendency will be found in the Bill entitled

_The Children, Young Persons, etc., Bill_, introduced by a Labour

Member during the tenure of office by the Labour Government in 1924.

It represents bourgeois or herd morality “in excelsis.” It is known as

the _Offences against the Person Bill_, and its object is to codify

and extend the existing enactments against abortion, cruelty to

children, offences against children, and neglect of children. Many of

its provisions are admirable and afford what is no doubt a necessary

protection to children against suffering and neglect. Nevertheless it

menaces individual liberty in two ways. In the first place it increases

the number of offences punishable by law, often in an arbitrary manner.

For example, it is made a crime punishable by two years hard labour for

a girl of sixteen to have intercourse with a young man of eighteen, the

criminal being not, as one might have expected, the elder of the two

parties concerned, but the girl. She alone is liable to imprisonment;

the young man is allowed to go free. It is also a criminal offence to

conceal the birth of a dead child, to cause or encourage a child to

beg, or to celebrate the marriage of a boy and a girl under sixteen,

such marriages being declared invalid.

In the second place the Bill authorizes grave interference with

personal privacy. The officers and inspectors charged with executing

its multifarious provisions are given unlimited powers of search,

and authorized in certain cases to arrest without warrant. Even if

a bill of this kind were to be administered by angels or sages, the

opportunities for espionage and surveillance which it bestows would

be sufficiently offensive. Since, however, its provisions will in

fact be enforced by inspectors and constables drawn from the lower

middle classes, who will be only too willing to denounce as flagrant

immorality whatever transcends the experience of Clapham, the measure

stands revealed as an attempt to endow the herd with increased powers

of interference and control over the private lives of those who venture

to stand outside it.

Encouragement would also be given to malevolent and offensive persons

who wished to do harm to their neighbours by laying information against

them. In general, liberty would be diminished, offences multiplied,

and the individual rendered more subservient to public opinion than is

the case to-day.

Another expression of herd feeling will be a growing tendency to

enquire into the private lives of those who hold public appointments.

The herd, that is to say, will increasingly demand of those who fill

positions of eminence and authority in the land that they shall

conform in practice, and profess to conform in belief, to the code of

prejudices and preferences which it pretentiously calls its morals.

Even to-day, at the end of half a century of individualist thinking,

fitness to perform a particular job is one of the least important

qualifications in a candidate. What is important is that he shall

be a member of a recognized religious sect, such as the Church of

England or one of the sub-sects of Nonconformity, that he shall

live with one wife, avoid divorcing and being divorced, and display

studiously temperate habits. He must also exercise discretion in his

public utterances, be judiciously but not violently patriotic in his

sentiments, eschew extreme views in politics, refrain from supporting

unpopular causes, and on all occasions give the herd the answers it

expects. Thus in Wales it is difficult if not impossible for a man to

hold any public appointment unless he is a member of a particular

chapel, and at English Universities many teaching posts are reserved

for those in Holy Orders. Given the capacity for reflecting the

opinions and flattering the prejudices of the many, men of acknowledged

incompetence may successfully aspire to the most responsible posts.

There is indeed no post in the country a man cannot hold with credit,

if he can only succeed in holding his tongue.

Conformity rather than intelligence is more particularly required of

those who seek to instruct the young. A man’s ability to demonstrate

the differential calculus or impart the facts of history would not, it

is true, appear to be lessened by his having passed through the divorce

court. Yet there is no doubt that such an event will cast a blight upon

his career as a teacher. People are too satisfied with their own ways

of thought and habits of conduct to wish for their children anything

better than that they should think and act as they do themselves. What

is demanded of the teacher, therefore, is that he should transmit to

the children the same beliefs as those which are held by their parents.

He must hold up to their admiration those things which their parents

consider to be admirable, such as God, vaccination, monogamy, the

Treaty of Versailles and the capitalist system, and speak with scorn

and contempt of Bolshevism, atheism, Germany, free love and agitators,

whom parents consider to be evil. When the teacher does this he is what

is called a safe man. He inspires confidence and obtains preferment.

Provided, in short, that he guarantees not to teach anything new, his

capacity to teach anything at all is not seriously questioned. And,

since the best minds of every generation, being in advance of their

time, would prefer not to teach at all rather than to perpetuate the

dogmas in which they have ceased to believe, the successful teacher is

not always remarkable for intelligence.

In any event, whether intelligent or not, he must conform, and will

have to do so increasingly. The herd morality which drove a statesman

of the calibre of Dilke out of public life because it disapproved

of his private life, is, after a temporary relapse, increasing in

strength, and in the immediate future nobody who does not profess the

morality to which the middle classes adhere will stand any chance of

public office. If a man’s actions belie his professions he must be

careful to conceal them.

One of the results of this development will be an increase in

hypocrisy. To-day the agnostic don at Oxford worships regularly in

the College Chapel, and men will be driven increasingly to give

lip-service to ideals and shibboleths which in their hearts they

despise. In general, the gulf which separates public profession and

private practice, a gulf which has made England a byword for hypocrisy,

will grow wider. Driven to profess the beliefs of shopkeepers, men will

rely increasingly upon their private judgment as a sanction for their

conduct. Hence the attempt to impose a uniform standard based upon an

obsolete morality upon our public men may lead to a revival of that

unfashionable organ the private conscience, and those from whom an

unwilling conformity is exacted in public, will insist that they and

they alone are the judges of what is right and wrong in private.

I have taken the _Offences against the Person Bill_ as a typical

instance of the kind of legislation in which the new Puritanism may

express itself. It indicates a return to the Greek conception that men

can be made good by Act of Parliament. In the late nineteenth and early

twentieth centuries this conception was regarded with disfavour. As the

result of the individualist thinking of the preceding fifty years, the

idea that there was one good life which all men ought to lead had been

abandoned. The individualist view was that there were different kinds

of good lives for different men, as many in fact as there were men to

live them, and that it was, therefore, impracticable to establish by

law a positive standard of ethical conduct to which all must conform.

In so far as law had any function in the matter, it was, by prohibiting

violence and the cruder forms of robbery, to guarantee to the community

a certain background of order without which no good life was possible.

Since the mere process of obeying the law did not make a man a good

man but only restrained him from certain unappetizing kinds of vice

by which no decent upper or middle class citizen was attracted, it

followed that the function of the law was negative merely; its object

was to prevent citizens from so conducting themselves that nobody could

be virtuous, not to define virtue or to tell men how to attain it. The

definition of virtue was a matter for the individual’s insight, and

the attainment of virtue a matter for the individual’s conscience;

provided, therefore, that a man abstained from the grosser forms of

anti-social conduct which were prohibited by law, the question of what

he ought to do, and what refrain from doing, was one which he alone

could decide.

I believe that this nineteenth and early-twentieth century

libertarianism in matters of thought and conduct is decreasing and will

continue to decrease. The cult of uniformity is hostile to the liberty

of the individual, and in order to secure the performance of conduct

of which the herd approves, the legislature is likely to assume a more

positive control over men’s lives than has been customary in the past.

We shall, in other words, revert to the conception of one good life for

all men, or rather for all poor men, a good life which it is conceived

to be the business of the State and of public opinion to promote.

Summing up, therefore, we may predict the immediate future somewhat

as follows: Coming into contact with the increased facilities for

freedom of action to which reference has been made, the new itch to

regulate men’s lives will lead to persecution and heresy-hunting. Men

will be hounded out of public life because of their private morals,

and acceptance of certain habits of belief and codes of conduct will

be made indispensable to the holding of public appointments. Instead

of choosing for a post the man who is best qualified to do the job, we

shall choose the man who most nearly reflects the habits of thought

and conduct of the selection board, that is to say, of the herd who

elected the selection board to represent them. The growth of Puritanism

will bring a growth in hypocrisy, a fruitful and invaluable offshoot

of Puritanism. There will be an even greater disparity between men’s

practices and their professions than there is at present, and their

professions will tend increasingly to condemn their practices. The

world, in short will become a paradise for the average man and a hell

for the exceptional one.

So much we may expect during the next fifty years. If, however, I am

asked which of the two opposing tendencies I have attempted to describe

in this book will ultimately prevail, my answer is that it will not

be the bourgeois Puritanism whose apparent victory I foresee in the

immediate future. Nor, indeed, do I think that that victory will be

more than apparent.

The history of morals, like that of politics, follows the swing of the

pendulum, and some reaction on the part of each generation from the

habits of its fathers seems to be inevitable. In so reacting it reverts

to those of its fathers’ fathers. Thus each generation tends to take

the gods of its grandfathers from the shelf upon which its fathers have

placed them.

To-day we are at the beginning of a period of reaction from the license

of the War. The difference between young people of between the ages

of eighteen and twenty-four and their predecessors of seven years ago

is very marked. The latter were casual, offhand, and easy-going. They

observed little ceremonial in their relationships with each other,

smoked, flirted and made love when and where they pleased, married in

haste and repented at leisure or dispensed with marriage altogether,

and despised rather than revered the aged to whom they were a constant

source of horror and amazement. What is perhaps most noticeable about

their successors to-day is their improvement in manners. They are

chivalrous to women, considerate to the old, maintain a decorum at

dances which is positively Victorian, and instead of hastening to

establish sexual relations with whomsoever attracts them, have actually

gone out of their way to postpone the fruition of their desires by a

reintroduction of the rite known as “engagement”.

In particular, women, no longer treated as the equals of men, are

alternatively worshipped and disregarded, blown aloft like soap bubbles

or jettisoned as lumber. The reaction, in short, is already well under

weigh, and its influence for many years to come will be great.

But the normal cycle of action and reaction, of licentious eighteenth

and Puritanical nineteenth centuries, depends for its recurrence on

the entrance of no new factors; it is bound up that is to say with the

property status of women and the production of children as the fruit

of sexual intercourse. Once new factors are introduced, it may well

be thrown permanently out of gear. Birth control and the economic

independence of women are to my mind factors of this kind. The changes

they portend are incalculable, and, though their full effects may be

delayed for two or three decades, no Puritan revival nor any number

of such revivals, whether backed by the law or finding expression in

public opinion merely, will in the long run be able to stand against

them.

* * * * *

I am conscious that what I have written in this book will seem to many

to be cynical and disruptive. I shall be charged with taking a low view

of human nature, and speaking slightingly of morality. My answer is,

first, that what I have written of in these pages is not human nature

as a whole, but that part of human nature only which expresses itself

in what is called morality; and secondly, that what is called morality

is not in any true sense of the word morality at all. Morality, as I

understand it, is positive: it insists that certain things are good and

ought to be pursued even if the heavens fall. But the habits of thought

and standards of conduct I have analyzed in this book, although they

are called morality, are not positive but negative. Their appeal is to

men’s fears rather than to their hopes; they tell them not what they

must do to be saved, but what they must not do if they are to avoid the

censure of society. Their basis is the instinct to possess, and their

weapon the power to blame. Men blame those who claim a liberty they

dare not assert for themselves, and dignify with the name of morality

the indulgence of possessive instincts in which savages glory without

hypocrisy. “What could I have done in the circumstances?” asked the

husband of an erring wife in a recent society scandal case. “If you ask

me to tell you I will. You could have told your wife that if she went

with the man again, you would get her divorced. You could then have

gone up to London and assaulted Sir X Y, and to hell with your career”,

replied the eminent counsel on the other side.

This is the law of the jungle; it is the expression of most of what

passes for morality to-day, and, while it prevails, there is little

hope for the world. Of positive morality which brings the conviction

that some things are good and ought to be pursued for their own sake,

there has never been less. It is doubtful indeed whether a positive

morality can exist without a strong and lively religious feeling, and

religion was never at so low an ebb.

The emotional enthusiasm which religion generates is indispensable to

a true morality. For good or for evil religion is the looser of great

forces. It may be captured and made to serve base ends, but under the

influence of the emotion which it creates men can be brought to believe

that some things _are_ better than others, and to overcome any obstacle

in order that the good things may prevail. It is this belief which is

lacking in the world to-day.

Until, then, the life-force can contrive again to send a great

religious teacher into the world, a true, positive morality will be

lacking. The man who is born in England will continue to believe that

it is right to marry one wife, and the man who is born in Persia

will continue to believe that it is right to marry four, and each

will invoke morality to justify his belief. Such morality is merely

topographical; it reflects no conception of what is good, and it gives

us no hope that the world can be made better because it does not

believe that its own world is bad.

Meanwhile the less we write and think about morality the better. A

world without religion is a sad and a tiring world because it lacks an

object, and for this reason there have been few generations which have

known less happiness than our own. In such a world those who think the

least have the best of it. In such a world reflection can only produce

despondency, and it is better to take our professions and prejudices

ready made from the social shop, than to embark on a sea of troubles

by thinking out a morality for ourselves, to act with the business man

rather than to brood with the philosophers.

In a new and positive morality in which men can believe lies the hope

for the world; yet such a morality cannot come without a revival of

religion. Religion and religion alone gives the driving force which

impels men to change things, and until a religious attitude to the

world again becomes part of man’s common heritage, all the apparent

changes in morality, of which different ages and countries are the

witnesses, will fail to disguise the fundamental fact that there is no

morality to change.

* * * * *

Transcriber’s Notes:

――Text in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_).

――Punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently corrected.

――Archaic and variable spelling has been preserved.

――Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved.

Thrasymachus · 第 4 / 4 章