But when he comes to the case of civilised men he finds a difficulty.

"With savages," he says, "the weak in body or mind are soon

eliminated; and those that survive commonly exhibit a vigorous state

of health. We civilised men, on the other hand, do our utmost to check

the process of elimination; we build asylums for the imbecile, the

maimed, and the sick; we institute poor-laws; and our medical men

exert their utmost skill to save the life of every one to the last

moment.... The aid which we feel impelled to give to the helpless is

mainly an incidental result of the instinct of sympathy, which was

originally acquired as part of the social instincts.... Nor could

we check our sympathy, even at the urging of hard reason, without

deterioration in the noblest part of our nature[1]." This sympathy,

which natural selection cannot preserve or vindicate even in the

struggle of communities, is nevertheless recognised by Darwin as

having a moral value outside of and above natural selection and the

struggle for existence,--a value of which these have no right to

judge. He thinks that if we followed hard reason--and by 'hard reason'

he obviously means an imitation on our part of the action of natural

selection--we should be led to sweep away all those institutions by

which civilised mankind guards its weaker members. But this, he says,

would be only to deteriorate the "noblest part of our nature." What is

noblest in our nature, then, is not that which natural selection has

favoured or maintained. There is, therefore, implied in his view a

limitation of the ethical significance of the principle of natural

selection. For, when we come to this crucial question of conduct,

it is not allowed to give any criterion of moral validity. More

comprehensive attempts on the same lines as Darwin's have been made

subsequently; and various writers have tried to show how the moral

criterion may be resolved into social efficiency, or how it may be

derived from a problematic future state of the human race on this

earth when the need for struggle has disappeared and all things

go smoothly. The former view may be found in Sir Leslie Stephen's

'Science of Ethics'; the latter is the peculiar property of Mr Herbert

Spencer. Somewhat unwillingly I must for the present leave these

special views without consideration,[2] because I wish to bring out

still more plainly the various attitudes of the evolutionists to

morality, and especially to draw attention to a view very different

from those just mentioned, though not altogether without support in

Darwin, which, as put forward some years ago by the late Professor

Huxley[3], produced no little flutter in scientific dovecots.

[Footnote 1: Descent of Man, pp. 205, 206.]

[Footnote 2: For a discussion of these views I may be allowed to

refer to my' Ethics of Naturalism,' chap. viii. (chap. ix. in the new

edition). The same volume contains a more exhaustive examination than

is possible in this lecture of the whole subject of evolutionist

ethics.]

[Footnote 3: The Romanes Lecture, 1893, "Evolution and Ethics." In

1894 this was republished, with prolegomena, in vol. ix. of 'Collected

Essays,' with the title, "Evolution and Ethics, and other Essays."]

Professor Huxley reviewed what he called the cosmic process as it was

guided by the law of evolution. He showed how at each step of that

process new results were only attained by enormous waste and pain on

the part of those living creatures which were thrust aside as unfit

for their surroundings, and he held consequently that the whole cosmic

process is of an entirely different character from what we must mean

when we use the term 'moral.' According to him morality is opposed

to the method of evolution, and cannot be based upon the theory of

evolution. It is of independent worth; but Professor Huxley, perhaps

wisely, refrained from investigating its justification, while

enforcing "the apparent paradox that ethical nature, while born of

cosmic nature, is necessarily at enmity with its parent"

"The practice of that which is ethically best--what we call goodness

or virtue--involves a course of conduct which, in all respects, is

opposed to that which leads to success in the cosmic struggle

for existence. In place of ruthless self-assertion it demands

self-restraint; in place of thrusting aside, or treading down, all

competitors, it requires that the individual shall not merely respect,

but shall help, his fellows; its influence is directed, not so much to

the survival of the fittest, as to the fitting of as many as possible

to survive. It repudiates the gladiatorial theory of existence....

Let us understand once for all that the ethical progress of society

depends, not on imitating the cosmic process, still less in running

away from it, but in combating it."[1]

[Footnote 1: Evolution and Ethics, pp. 81-83.]

Here, then, is a view very different from the easy optimism of Mr

Herbert Spencer. The cosmic order has nothing to say to the moral

order, except that, somehow or other, it has given it birth; the

moral order has nothing to say to the cosmic order, except that it

is certainly bad. Morality is occupied in opposing the methods of

evolution.

Still another view is possible. It may be held that the morality of

self-restraint and self-sacrifice are opposed--as Huxley says they are

opposed--to the methods of cosmic evolution; and yet the "gladiatorial

theory of existence" may not be repudiated; but morality may be

modified to suit the claims of evolution. This is the position adopted

by the philosopher Nietzsche, whose whole thought is permeated by the

idea of evolution. Like Professor Huxley, Nietzsche might say that

morality is opposed to the cosmic process. But by morality he would

mean something that is not to be encouraged, but that is to be shed

from human life, or at least fundamentally transformed, just because

it is in opposition to the laws of cosmic progress. On the other hand,

the morality--if we may use the term--which the cosmic process teaches

us will be a development of the conceptions of self-assertion and

self-reliance, qualities which, according to ordinary morality--the

morality, for instance, of Professor Huxley--require to be permeated

and even superseded by self-restraint and possibly self-sacrifice in

order that the moral law may be satisfied. Not obedience, not mutual

help, not benevolence, but the will to rule or desire of power, is

with Nietzsche fundamental, the primary impulse in the history of the

whole progress of the world, and still of first importance for the

further development of mankind.

This view is at the opposite extreme from Huxley's, for it overlooks

the advantages mankind has gained by means of the social instinct and

the social solidarity which it secures. But there is a further

point in Nietzsche's reflexions which is suggested by the theory

of development. Natural selection is not the sole agent in the

development of organic life: it cannot be too often enforced that

natural selection produces nothing, that its operation is purely

negative. It does not properly select at all, it only excludes. What

it does is to cut off the unfit specimens of living beings which

nature supplies. It would have no field of operation were it not

for the variety of nature. While individuals tend to repeat the

characteristics of their parents, they do not repeat them without

change: the principle of heredity is counterbalanced by a principle

of variety equally hard to explain. All organic life exhibits this

tendency to variation; and one variation proves better adapted than

another to the environment. It is this which makes possible the

operation of 'natural selection.' Unfit varieties are exterminated by

natural selection, and room is thus left for varieties which are fit

to perpetuate themselves and to increase in efficiency.

Now, if we apply this conception to human conduct, should we not

encourage all varieties to carry on their experiments in living and

in morality so that we may see whether success will justify them? An

affirmative answer to this question is sometimes vaguely hinted at; by

Nietzsche it is proclaimed from the housetops.

"There is no monopoly of morals, and every morality which exclusively

asserts itself destroys too much good strength, and is too dearly

bought by mankind. The straying ones, who so often are the inventive

and productive ones, shall no longer be sacrificed; it shall not even

be deemed a disgrace to stray from morals either in deeds or thoughts;

numerous new experiments shall be made in matters of life and society;

an enormous incubus of bad conscience shall be removed from the

world--these are the general aims which ought to be recognised and

furthered by all honest and truth-seeking people."[1]

[Footnote 1: Nietzsche, Werke, iv. 161, 162; Dawn of Day, § 164.]

Reflecting for a moment on what precedes, we may observe that, from

the mouths of the evolutionists themselves, we have encountered three

different views regarding the ethical significance of evolution. In

the first place, there is the view of Darwin that natural selection is

a criterion of moral fitness only up to a certain stage, and that the

noblest part of man's morality is independent of this test; in the

second place, there is the view of Huxley that morality is entirely

opposed to the cosmic process as ruled by natural selection; and, in

the third place, there is the view of Nietzsche that the principles

of biological development (variation, that is to say, and natural

selection) should be allowed free play so that, in the future as

in the past, successful variations may be struck out by triumphant

egoism. Neither these views, nor the still more elaborate treatment of

Spencer, do I propose to examine in detail. But I wish to offer some

reflexions upon the fundamental conception underlying them all,

accounting in this way, perhaps, for the differences of opinion

between Darwin and Spencer, Huxley and Nietzsche. The conception of

natural selection and of evolution by natural selection is applied by

men of science and by philosophers in three very different spheres, to

three very different kinds of struggle or competition. There may be

many different kinds of competition: it will be sufficient here to

consider the three following:--

First, there is the competition between individuals for individual

life and success. Now, so far as we are dealing with this competition,

the only qualities which natural selection will favour are of course

the qualities which lead to the continuance and efficiency of the

individual organism. The qualities 'selected' in this process are

therefore only the self-assertive qualities,--the qualities of

strength, of courage, of prudence, and also of temperance.

But in the second place there is also, as I have already indicated and

as was seen by Darwin (though he did not draw this distinction), a

second kind of competition, the competition between groups. Now the

group competition has as its end the continuance and efficiency of

the group, be it horde or tribe or nation, or be it one of those

subsidiary groups which enter into national life. In this competition

between groups it is clear that those qualities will be favoured by

natural selection which contribute to the efficiency of the group; and

the qualities which contribute to the efficiency of the group are not

those only which contribute to the efficiency of the individual, but

also qualities implying self-restraint and even self-sacrifice on the

part of one member of the group for the sake of other members of the

group or of the group as a whole. The habit of obedience, for example,

obedience to the authority of the group or its representative, may be

of fundamental importance in maintaining the existence of the group

as a group, although that habit of obedience has no place at all in

promoting the interests of the individual when he is competing with

other individuals.

Thirdly, there is still another kind of competition which is a little

more difficult to make quite clear, because it is not on the plane of

individual life and it is not to be identified with the life of

the community. It is a competition on the intellectual level, the

competition between ideas, and with this one may also couple (so far

as it does not directly concern the struggle for social existence and

thus belong to the second class) the competition between institutions,

including therein also habits and customs. The various institutions in

our national life, and the various habits of our life, may be said to

be forms which have to maintain themselves often in competition with

other and antagonistic forms of institution. The same holds of our

various ideas or general conceptions, whether about morality, which we

have now specially in view, or about matters more purely intellectual.

For instance, forty or fifty years ago, there was a fierce controversy

amongst biologists between the group of ideas represented by Darwin's

theory and the group of ideas represented by the traditional view of

the fixity of species. There was a long conflict between these two

groups of ideas, and we may now say that the Darwinian group of ideas

has emerged from the conflict victorious.

Now, when the phrase 'natural selection in morals' is used, the

reference is commonly to a conflict of this last kind. The suggestion

is that different ideas and also different standards of action are

manifested at the same time within the same community, that they

compete with one another for existence, and that gradually those which

are better adapted to the life of the community survive, while the

others grow weaker and in the end disappear. In this way the law of

natural selection is made to apply to moral ideas and moral standards,

and also to intellectual standards and to the institutions and customs

in which our ideas are expressed.

These, then, are the three ways in which the competition in man's life

and the selection between the competing factors is carried out. And

sometimes I think one sees a tendency to suggest that this needs

only to be stated, and that the whole question of the application of

evolution to ethics is then settled. You may say that such and such

moral qualities, as for instance the quality of sympathy, do not aid

the individual in competition with other individuals. The reply might

be No, but they aid the group in competition with other groups. Or you

may say, as Darwin said, that even this competition will not account

for the civilised development of sympathy. But even so we are not at

the end of our tether; and we can fall back on the conflict of ideas.

The idea of sympathy or of altruism, for instance, may conflict with

some other idea, such as that of egoism. At first the competition is a

group-competition, in which the group with altruistic members succeeds

at the expense of the egoistic group. By the victory of the former our

society becomes more and more a society whose basis is sympathy and

all that sympathy implies, while conflicting ideas lose the lead. So

in general with the competition of ideas: the idea which fails to

adapt itself to its conditions will disappear, and the idea which is

thus adapted will persist; and this also (it is said) is just natural

selection. Now I venture to ask the question, Is it? I will put the

question whether all these three processes are really forms of the

same process, or, in other words and to put the matter more simply, Is

it simply natural selection that is operative in all these different

forms of competition?

For the sake of clearness I will take first this last-mentioned form

of competition, the process by which one idea drives another out of

the intellectual or moral currency of a community. The competition

between the idea of fixity of species and Darwin's idea of the unity

of life has been already cited as an instance; and it was pointed

out that, gradually and after a controversy of some forty years, the

former idea almost disappeared, and in the minds at any rate of those

who know, the Darwinian theory became victorious. Was it natural

selection that brought about the result? To test the matter let us ask

once more how natural selection operates. Its mode of operation is

always simply negative. And if, in the struggle of life, it selects

the courageous man rather than the coward, the temperate man rather

than the intemperate, the method by which this result is reached is

simple: when it comes to a conflict the courageous man kills the

coward or reduces him to subjection; the intemperate man has less

vitality than the temperate: he too disappears, although perhaps

gradually.

Take again the group-competition so far as it is influenced by

natural selection. The tribe which manifests the qualities of social

solidarity is selected simply in this way, that when it comes into

conflict with a tribe which has not this solidarity the latter

is beaten, and is thus unable to obtain the pastures or the

hunting-ground which it desires, and therefore gradually or swiftly it

is exterminated or left behind in the race for life. Now, I ask, Did

this process take place when Darwinism supplanted the traditional

theory of the fixity of species? Surely it is clear that it is only in

the rarest cases that false or inadequate ideas on such subjects have

any tendency to shorten life or weaken health. Bishop Wilberforce was

killed by a fall from his horse, not by the triumphant dialectic of

Professor Huxley. Sir Richard Owen lived to a patriarchal old age, and

did not disappear from the face of the earth because he still clung to

an idea which the best intellect of his time had relinquished. There

is nothing in the doctrine of the fixity of species--if you hold

it--which will in the least degree tend to diminish vitality. Natural

selection has practically no effect at all in exterminating those who

adhere to this idea. There is no means of livelihood from which it

would exclude them except indeed that it might prevent them from

occupying Chairs of Biology. Apart from that I do not think it will

hinder them in any of the various modes of activity in which the

struggle for life is manifested.

What was it then that led to the victory of the one idea over the

other? The cause was intellectual. With the experts, it was logical

conviction: one set of ideas was found to fit the facts somewhat

better than the other set of ideas. With men in general the

intellectual change came more slowly and in a different way: they

adopted or imitated the ideas of those who knew. It was therefore not

natural selection at all which led to the presence and power of the

one idea rather than the other in the minds of thoughtful men. One

idea was deliberately accepted and the other deliberately rejected.

The former was accepted on grounds of which the most general account

would be, if we may use the term, to call them subjective. But natural

selection is a physical, external, objective process. It is carried

out without the individual's volition: he is not aiming at the end.

It is simply natural law which, with many varieties of living beings

before it, exterminates the unfit individuals. Thus nature in its own

blind way produces a result of the same kind as that which the will of

man would bring about by subjective selection.

The origin of this term 'natural selection' is overlooked when people

talk glibly about 'natural selection' of ideas. Darwin used the term

'natural selection' because he thought he saw an analogy between the

tendency of nature and the selective purposes of intelligent beings.

It was because nature, working without intelligence, produced the same

kind of result as man does by intelligent selection, that he ventured

to use this term 'selection' of the process of nature. Perhaps he was

hardly justified in adopting the term, as nature does not select; she

only passes by. At the same time, artificial selection also includes,

although it is not limited to, this negative or weeding-out process.

When you select a certain plant for growth in your garden you weed out

the neighbouring plants which encroach upon it, so as to give it a

chance to grow and thrive. By removing its competitors, you let air

and light surround the plant, and it spreads its leaves to the sun.

The healthy growth which results is due to the removal of obstacles

by an external power; and it is in this way--by the removal of

obstacles--that natural selection works.

Intelligent or artificial selection is not restricted to this negative

method of working; and its operation, positive as well as negative,

was certainly well known long before Darwin's day. Starting with the

familiar facts of artificial or purposive selection, Darwin showed how

results similar to those aimed at and reached in this way might be

brought about by the operation of certain natural laws, working

without purpose or design. Purposive selection pursues its ends more

directly and in general attains them far more quickly than does

natural selection. A still more striking characteristic is the fact

that it does not entail the waste and pain which mark the course of

natural selection. Witness the records of natural selection in the

vegetable and animal kingdoms, where thousands are called into

fruitless being that one alone may survive and prosper. Wastefulness

is the most striking feature of its method, and its path is strewn

with wreckage. In all these respects the conflict of ideas belongs

to the level of purposive and not of natural selection. It involves

consciousness of the end, which natural selection never does; it is

comparatively rapid in reaching its goal and comparatively direct in

the route it takes; and the victory of an idea does not take effect

through any general extermination of the individuals who cherish ideas

'unfit' for survival.

I do not deny that there may be a certain natural selection in the

case of human beings; but that process is always clumsy and slow and

wasteful, and the purposive intelligent selection which takes its

place is one of the greatest possible gains to living beings:

its presence distinguishes men from animals; its predominance

distinguishes civilised men from savages; the higher the stage

of civilisation, the more marked is the development of selective

intelligence. And in the conflict of ideas, whether moral or

intellectual, the issue is determined by a selection which is

predominantly purposive, and only in the slightest degree natural.

If we return to the conflict of groups we shall see that even there

purposive selection enters. How (we may ask) do those qualities of

obedience, willingness to help another, and the like, arise in a

community and thus enable it to win the victory over a less organised

or more savage enemy? Surely it is not a sufficient answer to say that

these qualities have been somehow developed, and then have contributed

to the victory of the community possessing them. All through civilised

life, and probably throughout a great part of savage life, there is

the keenest enquiry into and perception of the qualities which

will make for success. These qualities are carefully selected and

positively fostered. You drill your armies--that is, you cultivate

the habit of discipline and all that discipline implies--so that the

victory may be gained; in other words, the quality is not produced by

natural selection at all. The issue may resemble the result of natural

selection, for it leads to conflict and defeat of the unfit; but the

conqueror is he who has foreseen the conditions of the struggle:

has deliberately equipped his forces for the fight, and been the

intelligent organiser of victory.

Even in the case of competition between individuals, at least among

civilised men, it is clear that natural selection is very far from

being the only factor. A man trains himself for a profession. It does

not just somehow come about that a number of people accidentally

develop certain varieties of occupation, and that natural selection

makes play with this result, cutting off the unfit and leaving only

those who are fairly well adapted to their positions. Something of

this sort no doubt takes place to a limited extent; but, so far as it

does take place, our methods are denounced as defective and, perhaps,

as old-fashioned. 'Haphazard' is a wasteful principle, and should be

superseded by intelligent initiative and deliberate preparation. And

this indeed is the usual process. One adapts oneself carefully and of

set purpose to the conditions of one's life, instead of simply waiting

for natural selection to cut one off should one happen to be unfit.

Even among animals there are certain processes which cannot be brought

under natural selection. There are the first efforts, slight as they

may be, towards learning by experience. There are also all those facts

which Darwin classes under sexual selection, where there is a positive

choosing, due no doubt not to intelligent purpose but nevertheless to

a subjective impulse. This marks the beginning of the end of the

reign of natural selection, because in it for the purely objective or

external factor there is substituted an internal, subjective factor;

instead of the process of cutting off unsuitable individuals among

chance varieties there appears the process of selecting that variety

which pleases or attracts.

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