_Can it be that the Cosmic Process has no Relation to Moral Ends?_
But as long as we confine our attention to the universal struggle for
life and the survival of the fittest, without certain qualifications
presently to be mentioned, it is difficult for the most profound
intelligence to arrive at conclusions much more satisfactory than
Caliban's. If the spirit shown in Nature's works as thus contemplated is
not one of wanton mockery, it seems at any rate to be a spirit of stolid
indifference. It indicates a Blind Force rather than a Beneficent Wisdom
at the source of things. It is in some such mood as this that Huxley
tells us, in his famous address delivered at Oxford, in 1893, that there
is no sanction for morality in the Cosmic Process. "Men in society," he
says, "are undoubtedly subject to the cosmic process. As among other
animals, multiplication goes on without cessation and involves severe
competition for the means of support. The struggle for existence tends
to eliminate those less fitted to adapt themselves to the circumstances
of their existence. The strongest, the most self-assertive, tend to
tread down the weaker.... Social progress means a checking of the cosmic
process at every step and the substitution for it of another, which may
be called the ethical process; the end of which is not the survival of
those who may happen to be the fittest, in respect of the whole of the
conditions which exist, but of those who are ethically the best." Again,
says Huxley, "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." And again he tells us that
while the moral sentiments have undoubtedly been evolved, yet since
"the immoral sentiments have no less been evolved, there is so far as
much natural sanction for the one as for the other." And yet again, "the
cosmic process has no sort of relation to moral ends."
When these statements were first made they were received with surprise,
and they have since called forth much comment, for they sound like a
retreat from the position which an evolutionist is expected to hold.
They distinctly assert a breach of continuity between evolution in
general and the evolution of Man in particular; and thus they have
carried joy to the hearts of sundry theologians, of the sort that like
to regard Man as an infringer upon Nature. If there is no natural
sanction for morality, then the sanction must be supernatural, and
forthwith such theologians greet Huxley as an ally!
They are mistaken, however. Huxley does not really mean to assert any
such breach of continuity as is here suggested. In a footnote to his
printed address he makes a qualification which really cancels the group
of statements I have quoted. "Of course," says Huxley, "strictly
speaking, social life and the ethical process, in virtue of which it
advances toward perfection, are part and parcel of the general process
of evolution." Of course they are; and of course the general process of
evolution is the cosmic process, it is Nature's way of doing things. But
when my dear Huxley a moment ago was saying that the "cosmic process has
no sort of relation to moral ends," he was using the phrase in a more
restricted sense; he was using it as equivalent to what Darwin called
"natural selection," what Spencer called "survival of the fittest,"
which is only one part of the cosmic process. Now most assuredly
survival of the fittest, as such, has no sort of relation to moral ends.
Beauty and ugliness, virtue and vice, are all alike to it. Side by side
with the exquisite rose flourishes the hideous tarantula, and in too
many cases the villain's chances of livelihood are better than the
saints. As I said a while ago, if we confine our attention to the
survival of the fittest in the struggle for existence, we are not likely
to arrive at conclusions much more satisfactory than Caliban's
"As it likes me each time, I do: So He."
In such a universe we may look in vain for any sanction for morality,
any justification for love and self-sacrifice; we find no hope in it, no
consolation; there is not even dignity in it, nothing whatever but
resistless all-producing and all-consuming energy.
Such a universe, however, is not the one in which we live. In the cosmic
process of evolution, whereof our individual lives are part and parcel,
there are other agencies at work besides natural selection, and the
story of the struggle for existence is far from being the whole story. I
have thus far been merely stating difficulties; it is now time to point
out the direction in which we are to look for a solution of them. I
think it can be shown that the principles of morality have their roots
in the deepest foundations of the universe, that the cosmic process is
ethical in the profoundest sense, that in that far-off morning of the
world, when the stars sang together and the sons of God shouted for joy,
the beauty of self-sacrifice and disinterested love formed the chief
burden of the mighty theme.
[Illustration]
V
_First Stages in the Genesis of Man_
Let us begin by drawing a correct though slight outline sketch of what
the cosmic process of evolution has been. It is not strange that when
biologists speak of evolution they should often or usually have in mind
simply the modifications wrought in plants and animals by means of
natural selection. For it was by calling attention to such modifications
that Darwin discovered a true cause of the origin of species by
physiological descent from allied species. Thus was demonstrated the
fact of evolution in its most important province; men of science were
convinced that the higher forms of life are derived from lower forms,
and the old notion of special creations was exploded once and forever.
This was a great scientific achievement, one of the greatest known to
history, and it is therefore not strange that language should often be
employed as if Evolutionism and Darwinism were synonymous. Yet not only
are there extensive regions in the doctrine of evolution about which
Darwin knew very little, but even as regards the genesis of species his
theory was never developed in his own hands so far as to account
satisfactorily for the genesis of man.
It must be borne in mind that while the natural selection of physical
variations will go far toward explaining the characteristics of all the
plants and all the beasts in the world, it remains powerless to account
for the existence of man. Natural selection of physical variations might
go on for a dozen eternities without any other visible result than new
forms of plant and beast in endless and meaningless succession. The
physical variations by which man is distinguished from apes are not
great. His physical relationship with the ape is closer than that
between cat and dog, which belong to different families of the same
order; it is more like that between cat and leopard, or between dog and
fox, different genera in the same family. But the moment we consider the
minds of man and ape, the gap between the two is immeasurable. Mr.
Mivart has truly said that, with regard to their total value in nature,
the difference between man and ape transcends the difference between ape
and blade of grass. I should be disposed to go further and say, that
while for zo÷logical man you can hardly erect a distinct family from
that of the chimpanzee and orang, on the other hand, for psychological
man you must erect a distinct kingdom; nay, you must even dichotomize
the universe, putting Man on one side and all things else on the other.
How can this overwhelming contrast between psychical and physical
difference be accounted for? The clue was furnished by Alfred Russel
Wallace, the illustrious co-discoverer of natural selection. Wallace
saw that along with the general development of mammalian intelligence a
point must have been reached in the history of one of the primates, when
variations of intelligence were more profitable to him than variations
in body. From that time forth that primate's intelligence went on by
slow increments acquiring new capacity, while his body changed but
little. When once he could strike fire, and chip a flint, and use a
club, and strip off the bear's hide to cover himself, there was clearly
no further use in thickening his own hide, or lengthening and sharpening
his claws. Natural selection is the keenest capitalist in the universe;
she never loses an instant in seizing the most profitable place for
investment, and her judgment is never at fault. Forthwith, for a million
years or more she invested all her capital in the psychical variations
of this favoured primate, making little change in his body except so far
as to aid in the general result, until by and by something like human
intelligence of a low grade, like that of the Australian or the Andaman
islander, was achieved. The genesis of humanity was by no means yet
completed, but an enormous gulf had been crossed.
After throwing out this luminous suggestion Mr. Wallace never followed
it up as it admitted and deserved. It is too much to expect one man to
do everything, and his splendid studies in the geographical distribution
of organisms may well have left him little time for work in this
direction. Who can fail to see that the selection of psychical
variations, to the comparative neglect of physical variations, was the
opening of a new and greater act in the drama of creation? Since that
new departure the Creator's highest work has consisted not in bringing
forth new types of body, but in expanding and perfecting the psychical
attributes of the one creature in whose life those attributes have begun
to acquire predominance. Along this human line of ascent there is no
occasion for any further genesis of species, all future progress must
continue to be not zo÷logical, but psychological, organic evolution
gives place to civilization. Thus in the long series of organic beings
Man is the last; the cosmic process, having once evolved this
masterpiece, could thenceforth do nothing better than to perfect him.
[Illustration]