We have thus far been concerned with Probability, determined by methods
that take cognizance of Variations, and yield exact results, thereby
affording a solid foundation for action. But the stage on which human
action takes place is a superstructure into which emotion enters, we are
guided on it less by Certainties and by Probabilities than by Assurance
to a greater or lesser degree. The word Assurance is derived from
_sure_, which itself is an abbreviation of _secure_, that is of
_se- cura_, or without misgiving. It is a contented attitude of mind
largely dependent on custom, prejudice, or other unreasonable influences
which reformers have to overcome, and some of which they are apt to
utilize on their own behalf. Human nature is such that we rarely find
our way by the pure light of reason, but while peering through
spectacles furnished with coloured and distorting glasses.
Locke seems to confound certainty with assurance in his forcible
description of the way in which men are guided in their daily affairs
(_Human Understanding_, iv. 14, par. 1):
Man would be at a great loss if he had nothing to direct him but
what has the certainty of true knowledge. For that being very
short and scanty, he would be often utterly in the dark, and in
most of the actions of his life, perfectly at a stand, had he
nothing to guide him in the absence of clear and certain
knowledge. He that will not eat till he has demonstration that it
will nourish him, he that will not stir till he infallibly knows
the business he goes about will succeed, will have little else to
do than to sit still and perish.
A society may be considered as a highly complex organism, with a
consciousness of its own, caring only for itself, establishing
regulations and customs for its collective advantage, and creating a
code of opinions to subserve that end. It is hard to over-rate its power
over the individual in regard to any obvious particular on which it
emphatically insists. I trust in some future time that one of those
particulars will be the practice of Eugenics. Otherwise the influence of
collective truths on individual conduct is deplorably weak, as expressed
by the lines:—
For others’ follies teach us not,
Nor much their wisdom teaches,
But chief of solid worth is what
Our own experience preaches.
Professor Westermarck, among many other remarks in which I fully concur,
has aptly stated (_Sociological Papers_, published for the Sociological
Society. Macmillan, 1906, vol. ii., p. 24), with reference to one
obstacle which prevents individuals from perceiving the importance of
Eugenics, ‘the prevalent opinion that almost anybody is good enough to
marry is chiefly due to the fact that in this case, cause and effect,
marriage and the feebleness of the offspring, are so distant from each
other that the _near-sighted eye_ does not distinctly perceive the
connexion between them.’ (The Italics are mine.)
The enlightenment of individuals is a necessary preamble to practical
Eugenics, but social opinion is the tyrant by whose praise or blame the
principles of Eugenics may be expected hereafter to influence individual
conduct. Public opinion may, however, be easily directed into different
channels by opportune pressure. A common conviction that change in the
established order of some particular codes of conduct would be
impossible, because of the shock that the idea of doing so gives to our
present ideas, bears some resemblance to the conviction of lovers that
their present sentiments will endure for ever. Conviction, which is that
very Assurance of which mention has just been made, is proved by
reiterated experience to be a highly fallacious guide. Love is
notoriously fickle in despite of the fervent and genuine protestations
of lovers, and so is public opinion. I gave a list of extraordinary
variations of the latter in respect to restrictions it enforced on the
freedom of marriage, at various times and places (_Sociological Papers_,
quoted above). Much could be added to that list, but I will not now
discuss the effects of public opinion on such a serious question. I will
take a much smaller instance which occurred before the time to which the
recollections of most persons can now reach, but which I myself recall
vividly. It is the simple matter of hair on the face of male adults.
When I was young, it was an unpardonable offence for any English person
other than a cavalry officer, or perhaps someone of high social rank, to
wear a moustache. Foreigners did so and were tolerated, otherwise the
assumption of a moustache was in popular opinion worse than wicked, for
it was atrociously bad style. Then came the Crimean War and the winter
of Balaclava, during which it was cruel to compel the infantry to shave
themselves every morning. So their beards began to grow, and this broke
a long established custom. On the return of the army to England the
fashion of beards spread among the laity, but stopped short of the
clergy. These, however, soon began to show dissatisfaction; they said
the beard was a sign of manliness that ought not to be suppressed, and
so forth, and at length the moment arrived. A distinguished clergyman,
happily still living, ‘bearded’ his Bishop on a critical occasion. The
Bishop yielded without protest, and forthwith hair began to sprout in a
thousand pulpits where it had never appeared before within the memory of
man.
It would be no small shock to public sentiment if our athletes in
running public races were to strip themselves stark naked, yet that
custom was rather suddenly introduced into Greece. Plato says (Republic
V, par. 452, Jowett’s translation):
Not long ago the Greeks were of the opinion, which is still
generally received among the barbarians, that the sight of a naked
man was ridiculous and improper, and when first the Cretans and
the Lacedaemonians introduced naked exercises, the wits of that
day might have ridiculed them....
Thucydides (I. 6) also refers to the same change as occurring ‘quite
lately’.
Public opinion is commonly far in advance of private morality, because
society as a whole keenly appreciates acts that tend to its advantage,
and condemns those that do not. It applauds acts of heroism that perhaps
not one of the applauders would be disposed to emulate. It is
instructive to observe cases in which the benevolence of public opinion
has out-stripped that of the Law—which, for example, takes no notice of
such acts as are enshrined in the parable of the good Samaritan. A man
on his journey was robbed, wounded and left by the wayside. A priest and
a Levite successively pass by and take no heed of him. A Samaritan
follows, takes pity, binds his wounds, and bears him to a place of
safety. Public opinion keenly condemns the priest and the Levite, and
praises the Samaritan, but our criminal law is indifferent to such acts.
It is most severe on misadventure due to the neglect of a definite duty,
but careless about those due to the absence of common philanthropy. Its
callousness in this respect is painfully shown in the following
quotations (Kenny, _Outlines of Criminal Law_, 1902, p. 121, per Hawkins
in Reg. v. Paine, _Times_, February 25, 1880):
If I saw a man who was not under my charge, taking up a tumbler of
poison, I should not be guilty of any crime by not stopping him. I
am under no legal obligation to protect a stranger.
That is probably what the priest and the Levite of the parable said to
themselves.
A still more emphatic example is in the _Digest of Criminal Law_, by
Justice Sir James Stephen, 1887, p. 154. Reg. v. Smith, 2 C. and P.,
449:
_A_ sees _B_ drowning and is able to help him by holding out his
hand. _A_ abstains from doing so in order that _B_ may be drowned,
and _B_ is drowned. _A_ has committed no offence.
It appears, from a footnote, that this case has been discussed in a
striking manner by Lord Macaulay in his notes on the Indian Penal Code,
which I have not yet been able to consult.
Enough has been written elsewhere by myself and others to show that
whenever public opinion is strongly roused it will lead to action,
however contradictory it may be to previous custom and sentiment.
Considering that public opinion is guided by the sense of what best
serves the interests of society as a whole, it is reasonable to expect
that it will be strongly exerted in favour of Eugenics when a
sufficiency of evidence shall have been collected to make the truths on
which it rests plain to all. That moment has not yet arrived. Enough is
already known to those who have studied the question to leave no doubt
in their minds about the general results, but not enough is
quantitatively known to justify legislation or other action except in
extreme cases. Continued studies will be required for some time to come,
and the pace must not be hurried. When the desired fulness of
information shall have been acquired then, and not till then, will be
the fit moment to proclaim a ‘Jehad,’ or Holy War against customs and
prejudices that impair the physical and moral qualities of our race.