CHAPTER VII

It is impossible for a physician to prescribe a rational regimen for a

patient unless he has formed some clear conception of the nature of his

constitution and of the morbid influences to which it is inclined; and

in judging the wisdom of various proposals for the management of

character we are at once met by the initial controversy about the

goodness or the depravity of human nature. It is a subject on which

extreme exaggerations have prevailed. The school of Rousseau, which

dominated on the Continent in the last half of the eighteenth century,

represented mankind as a being who comes into existence essentially

good, and it attributed all the moral evils of the world, not to any

innate tendencies to vice, but to superstition, vicious institutions,

misleading education, a badly organised society. It is an obvious

criticism that if human nature had been as good as such writers

imagined, these corrupt and corrupting influences could never have grown

up, or at least could never have obtained a controlling influence, and

this philosophy became greatly discredited when the French Revolution,

which it did so much to produce, ended in the unspeakable horrors of the

Reign of Terror and in the gigantic carnage of the Napoleonic wars. On

the other hand, there are large schools of theologians who represent man

as utterly and fundamentally depraved, 'born in corruption, inclined to

evil, incapable by himself of doing good;' totally wrecked and ruined

as a moral being by the catastrophe in Eden. There are also moral

philosophers--usually very unconnected with theology--who deny or

explain away all unselfish elements in human nature, represent man as

simply governed by self-interest, and maintain that the whole art of

education and government consists of a judicious arrangement of selfish

motives, making the interests of the individual coincident with those of

his neighbours. It is not too much to say that Society never could have

subsisted if this view of human nature had been a just one. The world

would have been like a cage-full of wild beasts, and mankind would have

soon perished in constant internecine war.

It is indeed one of the plainest facts of human nature that such a view

of mankind is an untrue one. Jealousy, envy, animosities and selfishness

no doubt play a great part in life and disguise themselves under many

specious forms, and the cynical moralist was not wholly wrong when he

declared that 'Virtue would not go so far if Vanity did not keep her

company,' and that not only our crimes but even many of what are deemed

our best acts may be traced to selfish motives. But he must have had a

strangely unfortunate experience of the world who does not recognise the

enormous exaggeration of the pictures of human nature that are conveyed

in some of the maxims of La Rochefoucauld and Schopenhauer. They tell us

that friendship is a mere exchange of interests in which each man only

seeks to gain something from the other; that most women are only pure

because they are untempted and regret that the temptation does not come;

that if we acknowledge some faults it is in order to persuade ourselves

that we have no greater ones, or in order, by our confession, to regain

the good opinion of our neighbours; that if we praise another it is

merely that we may ourselves in turn be praised; that the tears we shed

over a deathbed, if they are not hypocritical tears intended only to

impress our neighbours, are only due to our conviction that we have

ourselves lost a source of pleasure or of gain; that envy so

predominates in the world that it is only men of inferior intellect or

women of inferior beauty who are sincerely liked by those about them;

that all virtue is an egotistic calculation, conscious or unconscious.

Such views are at least as far removed from truth as the roseate

pictures of Rousseau and St. Pierre. No one can look with an unjaundiced

eye upon the world without perceiving the enormous amount of

disinterested, self-sacrificing benevolence that pervades it; the

countless lives that are spent not only harmlessly and inoffensively but

also in the constant discharge of duties; in constant and often painful

labour for the good of others. The better section of the Utilitarian

school has fully recognised the truth that human nature is so

constituted that a great proportion of its enjoyment depends on

sympathy; or, in other words, on the power we possess of entering into

and sharing the happiness of others. The spectacle of suffering

naturally elicits compassion. Kindness naturally produces gratitude. The

sympathies of men naturally move on the side of the good rather than of

the bad. This is true not only of the things that immediately concern

us, but also in the perfectly disinterested judgments we form of the

events of history or of the characters in fiction and poetry. Great

exhibitions of heroism and self-sacrifice touch a genuine chord of

enthusiasm. The affections of the domestic circle are the rule and not

the exception; patriotism can elicit great outbursts of purely unselfish

generosity and induce multitudes to risk or sacrifice their lives for

causes which are quite other than their own selfish interests. Human

nature indeed has its moral as well as its physical needs, and naturally

and instinctively seeks some object of interest and enthusiasm outside

itself.

If we look again into the vice and sin that undoubtedly disfigure the

world we shall find much reason to believe that what is exceptional in

human nature is not the evil tendency but the restraining conscience,

and that it is chiefly the weakness of the distinctively human quality

that is the origin of the evil. It is impossible indeed, with the

knowledge we now possess, to deny to animals some measure both of reason

and of the moral sense. In addition to the higher instincts of parental

affection and devotion which are so clearly developed we find among some

animals undoubted signs of remorse, gratitude, affection,

self-sacrifice. Even the point of honour which attaches shame to some

things and pride to others may be clearly distinguished. No one who has

watched the more intelligent dog can question this, and many will

maintain that in some animals, though both good and bad qualities are

less widely developed than in man, the proportion of the good to the

evil is more favourable in the animal than in the man. At the same time

in the animal world desire is usually followed without any other

restraint than fear, while in man it is largely though no doubt very

imperfectly limited by moral self-control. Most crimes spring not from

anything wrong in the original and primal desire but from the

imperfection of this higher, distinct or superadded element in our

nature. The crimes of dishonesty and envy, when duly analysed, have at

their basis simply a desire for the desirable--a natural and inevitable

feeling. What is absent is the restraint which makes men refrain from

taking or trying to take desirable things that belong to another.

Sensual faults spring from a perfectly natural impulse, but the

restraint which confines the action of that impulse to defined

circumstances is wanting. Much, too, of the insensibility and hardness

of the world is due to a simple want of imagination which prevents us

from adequately realising the sufferings of others. The predatory,

envious and ferocious feelings that disturb mankind operate unrestrained

through the animal world, though man's superior intelligence gives his

desires a special character and a greatly increased scope, and

introduces them into spheres inconceivable to the animal. Immoderate and

uncontrolled desires are the root of most human crimes, but at the same

time the self-restraint that limits desire, or self-seeking, by the

rights of others, seems to be mainly, though not wholly, the prerogative

of man.

Considerations of this kind are sufficient to remedy the extreme

exaggeration of human corruption that may often be heard, but they are

not inconsistent with the truth that human nature is so far depraved

that it can never be safely left to develop unimpeded without strong

legal and social restraint. It is not necessary to seek examples of its

depravity within the precincts of a prison or in the many instances

that may be found outside the criminal population of morbid moral taints

which are often as clearly marked as physical disease. On a large scale

and in the actions of great bodies of men the melancholy truth is

abundantly displayed. On the whole Christianity has been far more

successful in influencing individuals than societies. The mere spectacle

of a battle-field with the appalling mass of hideous suffering

deliberately and ingeniously inflicted by man upon man should be

sufficient to scatter all idyllic pictures of human nature. It was once

the custom of a large school of writers to attribute unjust wars solely

to the rulers of the world, who for their own selfish ambitions

remorselessly sacrificed the lives of tens of thousands of their

subjects. Their guilt has been very great, but they would never have

pursued the course of ambitious conquest if the applause of nations had

not followed and encouraged them, and there are no signs that democracy,

which has enthroned the masses, has any real tendency to diminish war.

In modern times the danger of war lies less in the intrigues of

statesmen than in deeply seated international jealousies and

antipathies; in sudden, volcanic outbursts of popular passion. After

eighteen hundred years' profession of the creed of peace, Christendom is

an armed camp. Never, or hardly ever, in times of peace had the mere

preparations of war absorbed so large a proportion of its population and

resources, and very seldom has so large an amount of its ability been

mainly employed in inventing and in perfecting instruments of

destruction. Those who will look on the world without illusion will be

compelled to admit that the chief guarantees for its peace are to be

found much less in moral than in purely selfish motives. The financial

embarrassments of the great nations; their profound distrust of one

another; the vast cost of modern war; the gigantic commercial disasters

it inevitably entails; the extreme uncertainty of its issue; the utter

ruin that may follow defeat--these are the real influences that restrain

the tiger passions and the avaricious cravings of mankind. It is also

one of the advantages that accompany the many evils of universal

service, that great citizen armies who in time of war are drawn from

their homes, their families, and their peaceful occupations have not the

same thirst for battle that grows up among purely professional soldiers,

voluntarily enlisted and making a military life their whole career. Yet,

in spite of all this, what trust could be placed in the forbearance of

Christian nations if the path of aggression was at once easy, lucrative

and safe? The judgments of nations in dealing with the aggressions of

their neighbours are, it is true, very different from those which they

form of aggressions by their own statesmen or for their own benefit. But

no great nation is blameless, and there is probably no nation that could

not speedily catch the infection of the warlike spirit if a conqueror

and a few splendid victories obscured, as they nearly always do, the

moral issues of the contest.

War, it is true, is not always or wholly evil. Sometimes it is

justifiable and necessary. Sometimes it is professedly and in part

really due to some strong wave of philanthropic feeling produced by

great acts of wrong, though of all forms of philanthropy it is that

which most naturally defeats itself. Even when unjustifiable, it calls

into action splendid qualities of courage, self-sacrifice, and

endurance which cast a dazzling and deceptive glamour over its horrors

and its criminality. It appeals too, beyond all other things, to that

craving for excitement, adventure, and danger which is an essential and

imperious element in human nature, and which, while it is in itself

neither a virtue nor a vice, blends powerfully with some of the best as

well as with some of the worst actions of mankind. It is indeed a

strange thing to observe how many men in every age have been ready to

risk or sacrifice their lives for causes which they have never clearly

understood and which they would find it difficult in plain words to

describe.

But the amount of pure and almost spontaneous malevolence in the world

is probably far greater than we at first imagine. In public life the

workings of this side of human nature are at once disclosed and

magnified, like the figures thrown by a magic lantern on a screen, to a

scale which it is impossible to overlook. No one, for example, can study

the anonymous press without perceiving how large a part of it is

employed systematically, persistently and deliberately in fostering

class, or race, or international hatreds, and often in circulating

falsehoods to attain this end. Many newspapers notoriously depend for

their existence on such appeals, and more than any other instruments

they inflame and perpetuate those permanent animosities which most

endanger the peace of mankind. The fact that such newspapers are

becoming in many countries the main and almost exclusive reading of the

poor forms the most serious deduction from the value of popular

education. How many books have attained popularity, how many seats in

Parliament have been won, how many posts of influence and profit have

been attained, how many party victories have been achieved, by appealing

to such passions! Often they disguise themselves under the lofty names

of patriotism and nationality, and men whose whole lives have been spent

in sowing class hatreds and dividing kindred nations may be found

masquerading under the name of patriots, and have played no small part

on the stage of politics. The deep-seated sedition, the fierce class and

national hatreds that run through European life would have a very

different intensity from what they now unfortunately have if they had

not been artificially stimulated and fostered through purely selfish

motives by demagogues, political adventurers and public writers.

Some of the very worst acts of which man can be guilty are acts which

are commonly untouched by law and only faintly censured by opinion.

Political crimes which a false and sickly sentiment so readily condones

are conspicuous among them. Men who have been gambling for wealth and

power with the lives and fortunes of multitudes; men who for their own

personal ambition are prepared to sacrifice the most vital interests of

their country; men who in time of great national danger and excitement

deliberately launch falsehood after falsehood in the public press in the

well-founded conviction that they will do their evil work before they

can be contradicted, may be met shameless, and almost uncensured, in

Parliaments and drawing-rooms. The amount of false statement in the

world which cannot be attributed to mere carelessness, inaccuracy, or

exaggeration, but which is plainly both deliberate and malevolent, can

hardly be overrated. Sometimes it is due to a mere desire to create a

lucrative sensation, or to gratify a personal dislike, or even to an

unprovoked malevolence which takes pleasure in inflicting pain.

Very often it is intended for purposes of stockjobbing. The financial

world is percolated with it. It is the common method of raising or

depreciating securities, attracting investors, preying upon the ignorant

and credulous, and enabling dishonest men to rise rapidly to fortune.

When the prospect of speedy wealth is in sight, there are always numbers

who are perfectly prepared to pursue courses involving the utter ruin of

multitudes, endangering the most serious international interests,

perhaps bringing down upon the world all the calamities of war. It is no

doubt true that such men are only a minority, though it is less certain

that they would be a minority if the opportunity of obtaining sudden

riches by immoral means was open to all, and it is no small minority who

are accustomed to condone these crimes when they have succeeded. It is

much to be questioned whether the greatest criminals are to be found

within the walls of prisons. Dishonesty on a small scale nearly always

finds its punishment. Dishonesty on a gigantic scale continually

escapes. The pickpocket and the burglar seldom fail to meet with their

merited punishment, but in the management of companies, in the great

fields of industrial enterprise and speculation, gigantic fortunes are

acquired by the ruin of multitudes and by methods which, though they

evade legal penalties, are essentially fraudulent. In the majority of

cases these crimes are perpetrated by educated men who are in possession

of all the necessaries, of most of the comforts, and of many of the

luxuries of life, and some of the worst of them are powerfully favoured

by the conditions of modern civilisation. There is no greater scandal or

moral evil in our time than the readiness with which public opinion

excuses them, and the influence and social position it accords to mere

wealth, even when it has been acquired by notorious dishonesty or when

it is expended with absolute selfishness or in ways that are positively

demoralising. In many respects the moral progress of mankind seems to me

incontestable, but it is extremely doubtful whether in this respect

social morality, especially in England and America, has not seriously

retrograded.

In truth, while it is a gross libel upon human nature to deny the vast

amount of genuine kindness, self-sacrifice and even heroism that exists

in the world, it is equally idle to deny the deplorable weakness of

self-restraint, the great force and the widespread influence of purely

evil passions in the affairs of men. The distrust of human character

which the experience of life tends to produce is one great cause of the

Conservatism which so commonly strengthens with age. It is more and more

felt that all the restraints of law, custom, and religion are essential

to hold together in peaceful co-operation the elements of society, and

men learn to look with increasing tolerance on both institutions and

opinions which cannot stand the test of pure reason and may be largely

mixed with delusions if only they deepen the better habits and give an

additional strength to moral restraints. They learn also to appreciate

the danger of pitching their ideals too high, and endeavouring to

enforce lines of conduct greatly above the average level of human

goodness. Such attempts, when they take the form of coercive action,

seldom fail to produce a recoil which is very detrimental to morals. In

this, as in all other spheres, the importance of compromise in practical

life is one of the great lessons which experience teaches.

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