organs of its protest against surviving barbarisms that devour the
world under pretence of civilising it. And it forms few such organs
because itself needs humanising. Just there America may lend a hand.
Our science, our literature, and art, still lack moral earnestness,
and human sympathy. The value of our every liberal moral movement and
organ is therefore incalculable. It was a hopeful sign to see lately
on the platform of the Ethical Congress in New York leaders in various
denominations,—Heber Newton, President Andrews, Lyman Abbott, Rabbi
Isaacs, Felix Adler,—uniting to establish a College for Moral Culture;
all admitting that the theological seminaries, public schools, and
universities, had left them uninstructed in the great social, economic,
ethical, and political problems which have now come urgently to the
front. The prophets of Jehovah once said of Baal, "Peradventure he
sleepeth." The prophets of Jehovah now admit the same concerning
their ancient Syrian deity. But the divine humanity is awaking. It
will rise above prejudice and party. It will inspire no man to lay
an axe at the root of his neighbor's holy tree because it is not his
own, but to plant beside it one which they both agree is good, and
agree to nourish, and which shall prove so fruitful, so sweet, that
strength shall be drawn away from the roots of evil institutions, and
they shall wither away. That which, assailed by revolution, is sure to
be defended, and, if felled, to be reared again, evolution may gently
wither by production of the more fit. The sacred groves of the Past
may still cherish their traditional names, but, if not shattered by
revolutionary lightnings, they will turn themselves to fences around
the garden where fruits of knowledge and the happier life are growing.
MONCURE D. CONWAY.
A CONVICTED ANARCHIST'S REPLY TO PROFESSOR LOMBROSO.
I have read with much interest Professor Lombroso's article about the
anarchists, and I found many things in it that are true, but also many
errors. Even should we admit Professor Lombroso's theory to be correct,
it would in the present case avail but little, because the portraits
from which he made his deductions are not sufficiently truthful for
his purpose. 'Schaak's' book is said to be a fictitious 'robber
story,' and I am informed that it contains many untruths absolutely
invented for ornament and decoration. It is in the highest degree
improbable that such a book should not have caricatured the portraits
of the anarchists. In books designed for sale to the masses, the
illustrations are not, as a rule, of any value as works of art, even if
the persons pictured in them enjoy the author's favor. The only true
to life pictures are the photographs which Dr. Carus sent to Professor
Lombroso, and these were taken in the county jail; but it appears that
the Professor thought little of them, for he says, 'Perhaps these
photographs were taken some years before the crime, when they were
very young,' and the pictures in the _Vorbote_ were drawn after the
photographs, and are therefore of no account so long as the photographs
themselves are accessible.
Certain as it is that vice, crime, and brutality very often find a
characteristic expression of face, so equally certain is it also that
prominent physiognomists very often judge inaccurately and falsely.
There are many instances of this. In Mantegazza's work are found
examples. Now, if it is difficult to arrive at a correct opinion under
favorable circumstances, it is almost impossible to do so if such
pictures as those of Schaak's, with Schaak's explanations, form the
basis and starting point of the inquiry.
Johann Most has an unsymmetric face; this however, is not the fault of
nature, but of an unskilful surgeon. Of Engel I know nothing, except
that he joined the socialists at an advanced age. In his earlier years
he advocated anti-Socialistic ideas. After his first arrest he was set
free upon the good word of Coroner Herz, who declared that he knew
Engel for years as a quiet and well-behaved citizen.
With Lingg I was not on friendly terms, and therefore propriety demands
that I keep silent about him.
Spies was born in the house of a forester, which had formerly been a
_Raubschloss_. The connection between this fact and the other one that
Spies twenty years later was converted to socialism by an American,
is not very clear to me. He was undoubtedly the most gifted of all
the indicted anarchists, and he had a most intelligent appearance;
his forehead was well developed. Temperance in eating and drinking
was one of his qualities, but as regards his intellectual activity,
I regret to say that this was not the case. Many of his articles
betrayed nervous over-excitement. In the beginning of the year 1886,
all intellectual work was forbidden him by his physician, and for a
few weeks he followed his advice. He was full of compassion for the
poor and wretched, and he helped them wherever he could. Concerning
his charities he observed strict silence. Any reference to them was
disagreeable to him, and made him angry. A man who had once rudely
offended him without cause, being in distress Spies obtained work for
him. I came to the knowledge of this by accident. One of the employees
of the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ who received but a small salary told me that
Spies out of his own pocket gave him for some months $2.00 a week to
pay a doctor and procure medicine. The salary of Spies was only $19.00
a week, and from this he supported his mother. Spies was of a very
tender nature, and what his comrades thought of his blood-thirstiness
may be gathered from the following anecdote. A certain man by the
name of Matzinger had translated an article from the French, "The Day
After the Revolution," and Spies asked an acquaintance of mine, "What
would you do the day after the revolution?" The answer was, "I should
imprison you till all was over, for your sentimentality would prevent
us from any energetic methods." The bystanders laughed; Spies flushed
and said nothing.
Fielden has been treated worst by Professor Lombroso. His father has
been characterised as a sort of genius, and in closest connection with
it, the Professor says, "Almost all the sons of men of genius are
lunatics, idiots, or criminals." I hope the Professor, mindful of this,
is not married.
If the term genius has so wide a meaning, the above statement is
certainly incorrect. Goethe on his mother's side had very talented
ancestors, and his father was extremely well gifted. The son of Goethe
was a drunkard, but we know that this unfortunate inheritance came from
his mother's side. The Darwin family was famous for two hundred years.
The sons of Hegel and Schelling were also able men. Many more instances
of that kind could be adduced; and whenever a genius or his posterity
goes to the wall, there are often external circumstances that cause it.
The Fielden who became famous as a Member of Parliament at the time of
the Chartist movement in England, was a relative, but not the father
of Sam Fielden. Sam Fielden's father was a very intelligent laborer,
who also took part in the Chartist movement, without, however, becoming
very prominent in it. By the bye, the descendants of the first named
Fielden are neither "lunatics, idiots, nor criminals," but wealthy
manufacturers. And now to Sam Fielden; no lunatic, idiot, or criminal
could make the speech which he made when asked why sentence of death
should not be pronounced against him, a speech concerning which Mr.
Grinnell, the prosecutor, said that "had it been made to the jury, they
would have acquitted him." Mr. Luther Laflin Mills, formerly States
Attorney, declared in my presence that it was a masterpiece. That
there was any criminal disposition in Sam nobody ever had any idea. He
was nearly forty years old when arrested, and his wealthy employers
considered him an honest man, and a harmless enthusiast of an amiable
nature. He had become entangled in the Anarchist prosecution by a
strange concatenation of circumstances.
Professor Lombroso's opinion concerning Fielden, formed by the study of
portraits, stands in a strange contrast to the estimate of character
made by the judge who tried and sentenced the anarchists. Three days
before the execution Judge Gary wrote the following letter to Governor
Oglesby:
Chicago, Ill., November 8, 1887.
To the Hon. Richard J. Oglesby, Governor of Illinois.
Sir: In the application of Samuel Fielden for a commutation of
his sentence, it is not necessary as to the case itself that I
should do more than refer to the decision of the Supreme Court
for a history of his crime.
Outside of what is there shown, there is in the nature and
private character of the man, a natural love of justice, an
impatience at all undeserved suffering, an impulsive temper;
and an intense love of and thirst for the applause of his
hearers made him an advocate of force as a heroic remedy for
the hardships that the poor endure. In his own private life he
was the honest, industrious, and peaceable laboring man.
In what he said in court before sentence he was respectful
and decorous. His language and conduct since have been
irreproachable. As there is no evidence that he knew of any
preparation to do the specific act of throwing the bomb that
killed Degan he does not understand even now that general
advice to large masses to do violence makes him responsible
for the violence done by reason of that advice, nor that
being joined by others in an effort to subvert law and order
by force makes him responsible for the acts of those others
tending to make that effort effectual.
In short, he was more a misguided enthusiast than a criminal
conscious of the horrible nature and effect of his teachings
and of his responsibility therefor. What shall be done in his
case is partly a question of humanity, and partly a question
of state policy, upon which it seems to me action on the part
of your excellency favorable to him is justifiable.
I attach this to a copy of his petition to your excellency and
refer to that for what he says of the change that has come
upon himself.
Respectfully Yours,
JOSEPH E. GARY.
Professor Lombroso wrote his article with the best intentions, I
fully recognise the fact; and certainly he was governed by the most
humane motives. But even conceding the correctness of his theory he
necessarily failed from the insufficiency of his materials.
One thing more, Anarchism is a collective term like Liberalism. People
understand by it many different and sometimes contradictory theories.
That part of it which is not in harmony with human progress will fail,
shall fail, and must fail, but that part of it which is good will live
in spite of all. The mistake, however, which has been made in our
special case will not again be made in America; and that also will be
for the general good.
Joliet Penitentiary.
M. SCHWAB.
THE PRINCIPLE OF WELFARE.
I.
If we wish to discuss ethical problems in a fruitful manner and form
just judgments of ethical theories, we must always bear in mind the
fact that there is not merely one single ethical problem, but many.
With the solution of one of these problems the solution of the others
is not necessarily given, and thinkers who have treated a single
problem have not, in dealing with that problem, always determined
their position with reference to the others. At all events, it will
be an especial and separate task to investigate the relation to each
other, the reciprocal dependence or independence, of the different
ethical problems. When we speak of _the_ ethical problem as an especial
philosophical problem, we must not forget that upon closer examination
it resolves itself into a number of different problems.
The reason of this tendency to regard the ethical problem as simple
and indivisible throughout, may be partly sought in the fact that
philosophical ethics did not develop until the positive religions had
lost their undisputed control over the minds of men. Religious ethics
is simple and indivisible by virtue of its principle. It is founded
on authority. Its _contents_ are the revealed commands of authority;
the _feeling_ which impels us _to pass ethical judgments_ is the fear
or reverence or love with which men are filled in the presence of
divine authority; the same motives impel man to follow in his conduct
the commands of the authority; and the principles of the education
of individuals and of the order of society are just as immediately
given by definite relation to this authority. It is upon the whole
the peculiarity of positive religions and the cause of their great
importance in the history of mankind that they grant man satisfaction
in a lump for _all_ his intellectual wants. The true believer has
concentrated in his belief his whole mental life; his belief is at once
the highest science, the highest virtue, the highest good, and the
highest æsthetics. Philosophical ethics has sought too long to retain
the simple unity which is peculiar to religious ethics. The mistakes
of the greatest philosophical ethicists may be in part traced to this
source. A criticism of Kant and Bentham would more fully illustrate
this. The fundamental error—one so often found in the science of the
past—is too great a love of simplicity.
I shall try, in the briefest possible manner, to give an outline of the
most important ethical problems.
Ethical judgments, judgments concerning good and bad, in their simplest
form are expressions of feeling, and never lose that character however
much influence clear and reasoned knowledge may acquire with respect to
them. An act or an institution that could awaken no feeling whatsoever
would never become the object of an ethical judgment, could never be
designated as good or bad. And the character of the judgment will be
dependent upon the character of the feeling that dictates the judgment.
From the point of view of pure egoism the judgment of the same act will
be wholly different from what it is when regarded, say, from a point
of view that is determined by motives of sympathy embracing a larger
or smaller circle of living beings. An ethical system, accordingly,
will acquire its character from the _motive principle of judgment_ upon
which it builds. This motive principle is the power that originally and
constantly again gives rise to ethical judgments.
If our motive principle is to operate with clearness and logical
consequence it must set up a definite standard. A _test principle of
judgment_ must be established that will furnish guidance in individual
cases by enabling us to infer consequences from it in instances where
simple, instinctive feeling fails. The natural course will be that the
test-principles will correspond directly with the motive principles at
their base. The relation between the two may, however, be more or less
simple. If we fix upon the feeling of sympathy as our basis, regarding
it as the main element of ethical feelings, it follows of itself that
the criterion we adopt must be the principle of general welfare,
that is the principle that all acts and institutions shall lead to
the greatest possible feeling of pleasure among living beings. This
principle merely defines with greater precision what is unconsciously
contained in the feeling of sympathy and in the instinct that springs
from this feeling. The same test-principle (as Bentham's "Deontology,"
for example, shows) may also be accepted as valid from the point of
view of pure egoism, only in this case the relation between the motive
principle and the test-principle is more indirect. We must in this case
endeavor to prove that the happiness of others is a necessary _means_
to our own happiness. Our own happiness is then the real end, but in
order to reach this end we must take a roundabout course, and ethics is
the presentation of the system of the courses thus taken. Kant arrives
in a different way again at establishing the happiness of others as an
end of ethics. It would be the business of a special investigation to
determine the extent to which this varying motivation of the principle
of test must influence the consequences derivable from it.
A third question is, By what motive shall an individual act be
determined? The _motive to action_ is not necessarily the same as
the motive that dictates judgment. The man who is animated with love
for his fellow-creatures has reason to rejoice that ambition and the
instinct of acquisition constitute grounds of action of so very general
a character; in that results become thereby possible which,—for such
is the unalterable character of human nature,—would otherwise remain
unaccomplished. A special investigation would have to point out whether
cases occur in which motive of action and motive of judgment must
coincide if the act is to be approved of, and whether there are not
motives to action which would rob the act of all ethical character.
Different from the problems already mentioned is the pedagogic problem:
How can the proper and necessary motives be developed in man? This
problem arises as well with respect to the motive principle of
judgment as with respect to the motive principle of action. It is
clear that between points of view that rest upon entirely different
psychological foundations, (the one, for example, starting from
egoism, the other from sympathy, and the third from pure reason,) the
discussion can be carried only to a certain point. The person who with
conscious logic makes himself the highest and only aim can never be
refuted from a point of view which regards every individual as a member
of society and of the race, and therefore not only as an end but also
as a means. If an understanding is to become possible, the emotional
foundation adopted (the motive spring of judgment) must be changed; but
the change is not effected by mere theoretical discussion: a practical
education is demanded in addition thereto which life does not afford
all individuals, although our inclination to make ourselves an absolute
centre is always obstructed by the tendency of society to subject us
all to a general order of things. There is an education of humanity
by history the same as there is an education of single individuals
in more limited spheres. This education demands its special points
of view, which are not always directly furnished by general ethical
principles. The same is true of the motive to action. For pedagogical
reasons it may be necessary to produce or to preserve motives that do
not satisfy the highest demand, because such motives are necessary
transitional stages to the highest motives. Thus, ambition and the
instinct of acquisition may be the means of attaining to true ethical
self-assertion. Reverence for authorities historically given can be
of extraordinary effectiveness in the development of character, since
only thereby are concentration or fixity of endeavor as well as the
power of joyful resignation acquired,—without our being able to see in
such reverence the highest ethical qualities. A ground-color in fact
must often be laid on before the final, required tint can be applied.
The law of the displacement of motives operates here which in ethical
estimation generally is of the utmost importance.
There must still be mentioned here finally the socio-political problem.
This problem has reference to that particular ordered arrangement of
society which is best adapted to a development in the direction of
ethical ideals. As the former problem leads inquiry out of the domain
of ethics into that of pedagogics, so this one leads us from ethics
into political economy and political science.
Although in the present discussion I intend to occupy myself only with
a single one of these problems, I have nevertheless mentioned them all
in order that the light that I shall attempt to throw upon the problem
I deal with may be seen in its proper setting. As will be observed from
what follows, the principle of welfare will be misunderstood if the
problem to whose solution it is adapted is confounded with any one of
the other ethical problems. The systematism of ethical science is still
so little advanced that it is necessary to draw out a general outline
before we pass on to any single feature. The value of systematism is
namely this, that we are immediately enabled to see the connection of
the single questions with one another as well as their distinctive
peculiarity. In ethics we are not yet so far advanced.
II.
1) If we accept the principle of welfare as our test or criterion in
judging of the value of actions and of institutions, these are then
good or bad according as in their effects (so far as we can trace them)
they produce a predominance of pleasurable feeling or a predominance of
painful feeling in a larger or smaller circle of sentient beings. Every
action may be compared to a stone thrown into the water. The motion
produced is propagated in large or in small circles; and the estimation
of its value depends upon whether it produces in the places it strikes
predominant pleasure or pain. Just as theoretical science explains
the single natural phenomenon by its connection with other natural
phenomena, so ethics tests the single feeling by its relation to other
feelings: the satisfaction of a person acting over the accomplishment
of the act is only then to be called justifiable or good when it does
not create a disturbance in the pleasurable feeling of other beings,
or when such a disturbance can be proved to be a necessary means of
a greater or more extended pleasurable feeling. This principle, as a
principle of test or valuation, corresponds directly with sympathy as
motive of judgment. The extent to which it is possible to accept this
from other points of view I cannot here investigate in detail.
The act of estimation, the testing, does not stop at the outer action
but goes down to the motives of the person acting, to the qualities
of his character, to the whole inner life from which the act has
sprung. This has its ground in the nature and significance of the
estimating judgment. Ethical judgments, in fact, are in their original
and simplest form spontaneous expressions of feeling. But the great
practical significance of such expressions of feeling lies in the fact
that they operate decisively upon the will (upon the individual will
and that of others) and produce motives of future action. Logically,
accordingly, they must be directed towards the point at which an
altering effect on the power that produces the act is possible, and
this point lies precisely in the inner life, in the character of
mind of the person acting. For this reason feelings and impulses,
disturbances and desires, are also judged of according to the tendency
which they have of producing acts and effects that will increase
pleasurable feeling or avoid unpleasurable feeling in more extended or
more limited circles.
Only by its effects do we know the power. We form by inferences our
conclusions as to what takes place in the mind of a man, his motives
and his capacity. Goodness or greatness that never expressed itself in
action could never become the object of ethical approbation; it would
not even exist in fact, but would rest upon a self-deception, upon
an illusion. At least some inner activity, a longing and endeavor in
the direction demanded by the ethical principle must manifest itself.
The individual in self-judgment must often take refuge in this inner
activity, and any deep-going, unpharisaical ethical estimation will
have to follow him there;[122] but just here do we have a beginning
of that which is demanded by the principle of welfare, except that in
consequence of individual circumstances its prosecution is impossible.
[122] Compare my article "The Law of Relativity in Ethics" in
the _International Journal of Ethics_, Vol. I. p. 37, et seqq.