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Us dtoils da eat axamplain qui sont paut-ltra uniquas du point da vua MXiqgraphiqua, qui paunnt modif iar una image "ProduHa. ou qui paunnt axiger una modif kation dans la mMnda normala da f ihnage sont indiqu«s □ Colourad pages/ Pagas da coulaur □ Pages damaged/ Pages endommagias □ PagH rastorad and/or lamkiatad/ Pagas rastaurias at/ou pallicuMas HPKp'is discoloured, stained or foxed/ Pages dicolor«es. tachaKas ou piquies □ Pagas detached/ f>ai 0Shawthrough/ Trensperence EOuetity of print nries/ Oueliti inigele de I'impression □ Continuous peginetion/ Peginetion continue Includes index(es)/ Comprend un Ides) index Title on heeder taken from:/ Le titra de l'en-t*te piovient: issue/ de la liiraison □ Title pege of Page de titra I □ Caption of issue/ Titra de dtpert de le I I Mesthaad/ livreison Gineriqua (piriodiquasl de le livreison Additionel comments:/ Commentaires supplimentaires: This item is filmed et tha reduction retio checked below/ Ce document est film« eu teux de rMuetJon indiqu* ciHiessous. 10X lex 1SX 22X 26X 30X D _ _ Vl □ n ■^ — n 1(X 20X 24X ^~-' 7IIK ^— 1 I 1 1 — 1 ... 1 32* TlM copy fllmad hart Hm bMn raproduead thanks to tha ganaroalty of: National Library of Canada L'axamplaira fllm« f ut raprodult grlca * la g4n«roalt« da: BlUlotMqu I Canada Tha imagaa appaaring hara ara tha baat quality poaalbia eongldarlng tha condition and laglbllity of tha original copy and In kaaping with tha filming contract apaclfieatlons. 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Las diagrammas sulvanu lliustrant ia mMioda. 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6" MKar-OfY tiSOlUTION TBt CHAKT (ANSI ond ISO TEST CHART No. ^) A APPLIED IIVHGE Inc ^=%; 1652 East Main St'Ml S'.J Rochasler, N«* York 14609 USA ■■^= (716) 482 - 0300 - Phon« ^= (716) 288 - 5989 - Fax PRINCIPLES OF WESTERN CIVILISATION BBOTG THE FIRST VOmUB OF A SYSTEM or BVOLUTIONARY PHILOSOPHY i PRINCIPLES OF WESTERN CIVILISATION m BENJAMIN KIDD AtTOO. o, -wcui rraurnoN," -thx contml or ram T«OBCS," XIC TORONTO GEORGE N. MORANG & COMPANY. UWTED 190a NlMMK Bu»l,«| „a Two. br Guui. N m™^*^_. "PorlKl to th. United Sutei. b not tote CONTENTS CHAPTER I Th« Closb of an Era , CHAPTER II The Shifttoo of the Ceotre of Siomficamcb in THE Evolutionary Hypothesis — The Principlb OF Projected Efficiency 3, CHAPTER III The Position in Modern Thought .... 68 CHAPTER IV The Phenomenon of Western Liberalism . . 101 CHAPTER V The Problem , .„ '40 CHAPTER VI The Ascendency of the Present . . . . ict CHAPTER VII The PA'iDjG of the Present undx the Control OF oat Future 200 '^ CONTENTS CHAPTER VIII Th» Divmoni»T or th« G««at Amtdiomv m Wmt- MK HuTOSYi Fnwi Stam ^ CHAPTER IX Thi .yEVELOPiMOT OF TM GiuAi AinwoMy » Wmt- iwr HisTOKY: SicOND Stam . . . . jo6 CHAPTER X TH« MODBkN WOULD^OMTJCT j^ CHAPTER XI Towards thb Fbtd«b ^ APPENDIX . 483 INDEX .... i*S I WESTERN CIVILISATION CHAPTER I THE CLOSE OF AN ERA It would be impossible for any informed observer •t the present time, in the midst of our Western dvihsation, to remain altogether unconscious of the character and dimensions of a vast process of chanee which, beneath the outward surf a. e of events, is in progress in the world around us. The great contro. versies, scientific and religious, which filled the nine- teenth century, have broadened out far beyond the narrow boundaries within which the specialists imag- ined them to be confined. The older antagonists in many of these controversies still continue, as they will doubtless continue to the end, to confront each other m the same attitudes of opposition as at the beginning. But the general mind is no longer closely engaged wrth the past aspects of these disputes. It is becom- ing more and more preoccupied with the larger problems beyond, which the new knowledge has brought fully into view, and witi, the immense social and pohtical issues which are now seen to be ultimately involved. ' The precursor of every great period of social and * WESTEMf CmuSATION opinions and „.odes of thintog of sodet^f rn' « no era In Western history which S „ff J''"'' parallel in this respect to the n,.ri„^ • '^" °*f«' ^r living Therp J. „ T P '""^ "" "''■ch we are tions,howereS^-,trdT,r*""^^^^ ''' ^--^^ which is not Sep a d ^ot "■^""'r''*'^ from its standpoint fi% yeS'ago The "T^ doctrine of evolution is only the last of l^ '"1"^ of sequences R„t th„ u ' ^ '°"S chain effected in the ttd X oMhe'd'"' " '" ^'^^^'^y thought altogethTr excte/ ^^''*' P'°*="^«« »* expeLnced Eve„r "" .""P""^ ^"^ previously thoughtful observer Thrfin!l "'"*'°" °^ *« and cor„pleteness^:^hic?;t X^t^tm accompUshed bv a 9Pf r.t ,» ".s^^en » the work thought, which for four il°i?r'^ *^"''^«"- '" the most conservativHleTent^t ''" "^^^^"^ ^''^ 80 profoundly influl^ced T ' "^ "^"''^«°". has •Sf** »/Z^V, by John Stuart MiU, ri. c. x. ' THE CLOSE OF AN ERA intellect over every field of knowledge '_ have all but accomplished the first stage of their work The extraordinary reach of the changes which the evolutionary doctrine is. to all appearand. destSd to accompUsh is not as yet fully perceived b^ any school of thought But. if the attempt be made to grasn ti>e apphcation of what we may now distinguish fo be one of ,ts central principles, some general idea mav be obtained of the remarkable character of t^e resuhs towards which our Western world is rapidly rno'^^ soS . ,° °T'^ "" '''' 'y^'"^' of poLcal and social philosoihy that have controlled the mind of ducted /r '^^. ^' *^ ^'=^«™- °f •'"--co- duct and of human interest which they have involved have had one leading feature in common. They 2 LTcei^:f'"'=''/" ^^^'=*' '° ^«^°^- round a fitd and central principle; namely, the interests of the e«stmg individuals considered either separately as ^ S"^L°th*"^^;^ " •"•=""'- °^ i"^- society. But the pomt of view in all these attempts h« been altered by a revolution, the significance of which IS without any parallel in the history ofZugh" For what we are coming to see is that, tf we accep tte law of Natural Selection as a controlling p, S m the process of our socia. evolution, we muTt bv inherent necessity, also accept it as o^eraLgTn tJe iZr and"'"'; V"' '""^ "•"• " P-""- he argest and most effective results. Our attention throughout the course of human histoid h^ bee" concentrated hitherto on the interests Tf the Ldi viduals who for the time being comprised what we ^ \ri. g^i^^. i, j^y^ by Joh„ Addi»g,oa Symond^ vol vii. 4 WESTERN CmuSATION „. interest,, i„ the evoiaTp'le LTn^' .« «' present. It i, always in 7JS It T't IJ' interests of those ex«tm»- j„j- -j , * "°* ** our systen,s of ho™ nd *'^^^^^ T* ""'='' "^'^ concerned themse.vel l^t^J i!£^^s :^Z^ ^'"''^ which weight the meaning of the evolution '"' cess in historj'. We -re in „fv, *''°'"''°nary pro- face to face wi/h theVacmatinl "'°'^'- •'""«'■* of the life of anv exLtinI? ' V^^ '"'^"''"'^ *°™"'a to n,ai„tain'ruX ^ ^ f ^tuT 1^^ '"''"^'^ these existing individuals with S'^h'"!! "' so preoccupied, possess »; n, Irng tcTpt sol^™ es:^rd:sss::^^r~^-- » THE CLOSE OF AN ERA | cesses of Western democracy, have been constructed boddy Within this narrow foreground. Through aU the literature which has come down to us from the Revolution in France, through nearly all the present hterature of the social revolt in Germany, through all the theones of that school of social philosophy long tT*Mn" f "^'^°''' ^^^^^"^^ ^y ^«»">am, Austin! James Mill Stewart, Malthus, Grote, Ricardo, and J. S. Mil^ there runs one fundamental conception into which all others are ultimately fitted; namely, that the science of society is the science of the inter- ests of those capable at any particular moment of «ercising the nghts of universal suffrage, and that the interest of society is always the same thing as the mterest o the individuals comprised within the limits of Its political consciousness. Yet what we see now is that the theory of society as a whole has been lifted to an entirely different Ifh^ v°K l**"'* " °"* P"""P'« ""^o than an- other which the evolutionary hypothesis tends to set forth m a dear light it is that the forces which are shaping the development of progressive peoples are not pnmanly concerned with these interests at all The winning peoples who now inherit the worid are they whose history in the past has been the theatre of the operation of principles the meaning of which must have at every point transcended the meaning of the interests of those who at any time comprised the ex! stmg members of society. Nay, more, the people in the present who are already destined to inherit the future are not they whose institutions revolve round any Ideal schemes of the interests of existing mem- bers of society. They are simply the peoples who WBSTERN aviLISAnON CRAT, identified. '"terests of the future are The controlling centre of the evol«t!nn,„ « our social history is. in short no? nt^ P"^*' ' all. but in the future lUsTn^ " r*"" P"""""' »' of the future that Natul ^ , r°" "^ ""* «'«=«»*• wS^tSjt— ----- tt™8l. wWcmI Zh.^ '"!"•••">■ «f . novemo,. the human intellect can „™- efficiency, which « THE CLOSE OF AN ERA . we KC, moved within the circle of an idea inherited from the past which is no longer tenable. The ruline conception which dominated nearly all theories of our socml development in the nineteenth century was that the central feature of our social progress con- sisted in the struggle between the present and the past. This is the conception which expressed itself Z vTrr .^"'P'*''^" 'n 'he social writings of the English Utilitarians in the middle decades of the nineteenth century. But it was also the central prin- ciple around which Mr. Herbert Spencer, as an eariy «ponent of the doctrine of evolution, constructed the theory of social and poUtical development ^et forth m his Synthetic Philosophy.i It is the leading idea which expresses itself in Mr. Spencer's conception of the modem development towards industrial democ ,?„T: r u- 'u* '^"^ ^continually reiterated, which underiies his theory of ecclesiastical institutions as forms through which the rule of the past expresses •Spencn-i dispute with tlie Utilila.-i,a. (cf. Mndiks of EAu, H »l-no) never indaded .ny difference on thSt^^^f (x^l' 'a. frincipUt of Sociohgy, %% 434-584. * WESTERN aviusA-noN -Hume's ideaaLng'trie/a'^tff:;^" *'''^'' content of the human min^" '^ farther- the simply to past e«wriL« It ^""''"^^^ " «'«ed the evolutiona,; diama^^ T "°'''."'' '=''"''^«' of can never mo;e'be vfet 7b vS'" °''^'-"»-«<"' dominated by such a r^nl^ *''^^"""« ^'eUect a. the mea„i„/„o,'=i thSti^" ^f't J' ^' "^ "^ past, but of the relation of T P""**'"' '° *« to which all oth?ral' '"''''"l'"''''^"'"^*' which controls all the uSe f"'/»'^'^'n«e. and cess Of progress in^hilTaVS^"" "' '"* ''^'^ and Hegel contribuS, r«ch^ ^sSr' .^'=!'''"'"«' many, and became in ^1^ *"" ''""» « Ger- which product? it t^''"""'"'«^ « the land thought. soT^vcitz:^ '-»* ^'^'- a scientific basis «f „v, ™aeavoured to rest itself on sue a clSy^eLti'linTrr'';^' ''''' ^--^ '» P"" it has slowly tS^^c^'l^''''"'^'-'-' ^ong which lowing this'lineTdtrprnMrtt^'"- ^"'• ;a.^-«,^^,„^^ P^°t "> the movement tl.ink.bl. po^bility. HeTtt. „T ",■'"' ""■ ■« » "> '»»«« a Sodol,^'.). ^°"""" "/ •»""'%»■. Tol V. 4, "The Scope rf « THE CLOSE OF AN ERA g begun in England with the English deists, carried still further on the continent of Europe under the theories of the French Revolution, and in its re- turn wave culmin: .ing in England in that utilitarian theory of ethics and of the state, in the ascendant in England during the greater part of the nineteenth century, we have the meaning of this central concep- tion now clearly in view. In ethics it found its con- sistent expression in the unhesitating assertion that in the last resort, human conduct required no princi' pie of support whatever but that of self-interest in society well understood. This was the assertion which, developed in the theories of continental writers like Condorcet, Diderot, and Helv^tius, reached in one of Its phases in England its highest expression in the writings of John Stuart Mill.i It is an assertion which, under many forms, exercises at the present time a dominant influence in a wide range of ethical thought throughout our civiUsation.» Carried into the sphere of religion the same fundamental concep- tion had Its correlative affirmation equally clearly and equally unhesitatingly expressed. This was that the direction of progress in our Western world was to empty the concepts of the system of religious belief associated with our civilisation of that distinctive quality which projected their meaning beyond the ^«l";fi^^;r"'''^-'-"'"' •^''••'^'^°^^*'^^^ ^*- P«mon ; «d Pr,i,g,„„^ „ EAics, by T. H. Gr«n, B. iv. c iv, S^w!^'i'^/V ''"'""'>'' "' "" '--"'"'".'•l difficulty i, h« hllh. f ' of.'"' principal recent growing point, in Engli.h to WESTERN CIVmSATION our. limit, of «)cial coMciou8ne«..> TranikteH « •. read cla^s of sS t^e Tn'"^! """" "'"^'j' btfnrr Lir fXT •; ri-' '";** '- factor in human histonr aVj thtt ^JT' *•"" """"« and institutions are uWmaT.i ?k ''"'"*" *^"«^» nomic conditioL-tha T^^ ^* °"*'°"'' °* «<=»- interests be weenThl ' •'° '^y* °^ *'''' "^-y of As ^o™errr„sed%rrK^^^^^ ::^:t2:t:r^&:s^-v=' economics, men haWn^ hit *" ^"'°7» «I«ive to economical causes '^4"^ "''''' "'"'' ^^'^ «« by th'c^ir^Sl^i^ 2- J5- of thought, which they rest and th^ ^^eloped premises upon which they all titr"' '°""'P"°° ^'""^ y aii proceed, is at once apparent. What . Iy^"'"''"J<>»rnat, vol. viii. p. 44, "Clothing ou^C o? otrit^'l™^"" !'"■« ■" *'» •"'"out ■tance ■■ (/«rf; p. ^^j. ™« «Poel> "nd m»g .bove tine „d d«aa,. THE CLOSE OF AN ERA II they represent is a theory of progress in which the ascendency of the present is regarded as the ideal towards which we are travelling, and in which the struggle that this ascendant present maintains against the forms, the beliefs, and institutions under which the past had hitherto ruled it, occupies the whole field of intellectual vision. The theory of our social progress in all its parts becomes, in short, simply a theory of movement towards a fixed social and politi- cal condition in which this self-conscious and sel -con- tained present shall be at last completely emancipated from the past in conditions in which the gratification of the desires, and the furtherance of the interests, of the component individuals shall have been made as complete as possible.* ' Compare the chapter " Of the Stationary State," J. S. MUt'a PcliH- eal Ettmomy, book iv., with Marx's CapHal, chapi. i. i. 4, and cxiiii. ; aho with Spencer's PrindpUs of EMcs, {§ 48, 49. Mr. James Bonar thus describes the causes which tended to impreu the German socialista with the idea that all social progress is nothing more than economic progren: "What impressed the German socialists— Man, Lasalle, Engels, Kantsky— was the demonstrably economic character of many political changes of the last 300 years. In the course of industrial changes the mediseral landownen gaye up their power to the capitalists, and the capiUlists to the employers of labour. Therefore, said the German socialists, all is due to a change in the prevailing form of pro- duction. Where agriculture prevails we have a territorial aristocracy, a certain political system, and certain social institutions and laws ; where commerce prevails we have another system ; where manufacture, a third. ThU explains the rise of the middle classes into poiiUcal power, but also the advance of the working classes as a power that will displace them and be (as we are told it ought to be) all in all. As in the economic theory of Marx and Engels all value is from labour, so on the great scale of politics all power is to be with the Ubouring class. Economic progress is thus the only real progress ; the essence of all history is economics; the essence of all economics is labour" (Tkt Economic Journal, vol. viii. No. 3a). I* ^^STERJ* aviUSAnON out. held z S.dTAh";xi^ ^*".*''« ''- -- followed and .urpaj^j mTs ""^^ '"'"'^» J"^' theory of . .ychology. devTwrf ? "" P^**"'; that ley. in which the cofSnt of tK '""" """'* '«> H«. •imply as a condition in whfcl'hr '»'"''.'• ^'-ed to past experience eitheM„ tf ' ?5*?"' '* "''•ted «ce; that widely present ^„! '^'''^''"^ "^ '" the re., developed fro^VolSre to M "°" "' "^"^ ?'»«- towart, a .tate in whichThe .elf " "' " '"°^«'»«« to be finally organist™ "^"""^"""f P«»ent i. «on of it. own ascendant K«2 T"'"''* "P'*^ definitely into the backgrnund 'f' ^ *"='' P^*^ the authoritative as.e« 0","!";^ ""^ to receive it. premises. It is the. h!^ the hu«an intellect to which rest, now on tJe t^Z 1 *' ^*"''« '«"« the future and not t Te pLftK"'' . '' " "> development has now berZ- • ^' '''* theory of •ee now how true waT^ "f!""^'^ '^''ted. We half-reluctant Scho^hltr S' '^" "''''^'' '"« greatness of Kant rhihold ^ ^'^^'""^ 'he For amongst the winninl i^- '^" '""^ '"""ite.! direction of developme" t^at T"' °' ''* "*«' 'he the human mind, whether Le^7 «™"^^ P"'"' -^ not, must, we see bealnnJ.r,. •^''"^"ous of it or THE CLOSE or A*? ERA tS ■II theories of the interests of society u included within the limits of merely political consciousness. It is impossible to look round us in our civilisa- tion at the present time without perceiving h w far- reaching is the process of change involved in such a shifting of the centre of significance in thought aa is here involved. Systems of theory that have nourished the intellectual life of the world for centu- ries have become in large part obsolete. They may retain for a space the outward appearance of author- ity. But the foundations upon which they rested have been bodily undermined. It is only a ques- tion of time till the ruin which has overtaken them will have become a commonplace of Western know- ledge. If attention is directed to the tendencies in prog- ress beneath the surface of events in the political life of the time, the impression made on the mind by the position in thought here described cannot fail to con- tinue to be deepened. Any one who has mastered what may be described as the psychology of Western politics in the modem period, must have been im- pressed at some stage of his study — and probably all the more so if he has been able to detach himself from the local egoisms of nationality — with the worid-wide influence which the system of ideas be- hind the political party representing the cause of progress in England has exercised on the develop- ment of our civilisation during that period. The political party in England which has been most closely identified with the cause of progress in the past has inherited what is beyond doubt, and judging it from many standpoints widely removed ** WESTERN aVIUSATIOJI in the mind, of hT. con L^l ' h«ve iweified Pitt the do.e of the centul S?""' "'''. «^"" before the doctrine of the n^hT „f *^' '" ''"«=riWng " derived from Se iople ^"T f'""'*** ">•» contempt and a]mosroto„ ■^a''"! "''""'' '"'» modem period -in which »T." J"*?"*" to the cal expa^ion of EnSS a„V"..'"n'' '"'' P"""' have .endered allrS "Xm^ ^„7i "'"'" science scarcely mnr. n. »~""'=a' and economic which the party of proirreM in P . I '"°''««ent ProgreM in England representi which it MMa fte „,„^ qirn U . ' P«''Pi"ily with «d .mioM. To «ert rtr ''.""""• "riPM of 11 .nthor (c£ K.nt • Introduction to the Prcl^nuna lo any Fuluri MclapkyxU) a « cnticUm of Hume'i fondamenUl position thit the content of the human mind U reUted to experience. Thij it the potiHon which hu been clotelya.K)ci.ted with the uHlitiriuimoremeBt in England and which haaaince receired ita moat characteriitlc apreuion in Engliah Aoujht in Mr. Herbert Spencer'a phUo«>phy. The principal concep- don upon which the Darwinian hypotheaia ii baaed took ahape in Darwin'a mind after reading Malthui'a Titory ,f Pofubnitn, one of the mu.1 cliaracterijtic productiona of the EnglUh UtUitaiiant (cf UA andltttm cf Darwin, by hia ton, F. Darwin, toL i,). ' \ 16 WBSTERN dVIUSATrON our. Western historrT?,ntsttm „?'/'""" "'^''"^'' with it, is that under whSth/,! ?"' '^'°"^"^ velopment in mode™ ht ^E s utnT'^"' f process of exoansinn )„ "7 °** taken place— the least signLaTo WeL:' peo^/^T •"""°- "^ '"« centuries, become a fourth of 1 t""' "''••'" *""* of the world, and under wh.vl ''^"' Population the human rice have nL!^ T" «^«-'*e>fths of century Sir R.Giff.„„y.= '^.^ntl H^Tl"'' °' "" '""""i of Eu„,p„„ origin u J • u^'f P^'"™ of Europ. „„ „,„«„„ thing over 500 mil W T^c U ' 1 1 "^ I "'"' "* "■" ■" •°"«- •t nearly 80 maiion, ; R„J. "•"' ^'t'" *'™'l™ -ight be p„t which mm .lre.dy have Z™ to .I^T ""™ "■°"«' « PopnUitfoa 55 million,; the L^lxZlt:^!,'"'!!''""' ^"yhou. Canada and Au.trala.ia ^JCy,b^'''^-^'"'"'"^'-'°"'- <" 55 n,Ulio„; Aurtria-Hungary « '^r'^'"^"""' "' South AWc, taly 3. n-iUioo,; Spain ^d^pt .^'°" U"""- t° -'"-^ countries ,0 million,; Holland uidT^H^ "' ' *=""'»"ian European countri.,, 20 mifol A ^°"'' '° "■"""" ' «»'' <"h=r fiKur. to thUsoo milliou,wourd not),? "J '^° "" ■=°™P<'nding -'hon,. ... The developme^';^' fo ™ " '°°" "■"■ '"•™' '7^ among the riuropean population, j/" """' P"" "■" «"i^orm American .ection. The in^eLe here T """'"'' '" "« ^nglo- more than about 20 million,, which w^ Th" ,' .P^P-^'""" of not State, and the United Kingdom toJTh Population of the United population of „o. .e« tha:'.3o mS"t".h "'"' ''"" '«''' '" " and Germany .!«, .bowed reiarSe jL ' l"^"' '™°- ''"«» (Adare„ to the M,nche,ter SUti^l"; ^1^0^.^;'^' "^ " THE CLOSE OF AN ERA »7 behind It the tradition of such an imposing process of prog. ess. the spectacle is one of peculiar interest The great utilitarian movement of the nineteenth centu^r has run its course, having brought under the domination of its principles almost all the lead ing tendencies of political and economic develop- ment in England and the United States. But the signs on all hands are apparent which mark how profound y the dim prescience of the significance of the position which has been reached in Western iSri' r'" m'^" '° '*"'' '^' P^«y ''hich has that r/^^^ ^ represented in the past the causes that are carrying the modem world forward 1 J° *''« "|°re thinking mind the nature of the revo- lution which has been effected has already be^n to be apparent. "The basis of the old radicalism has gone," says one of the most ladical of recent poTiticd which had become common to all the groups of Ene hsh Continental, and American Radic^ i'n the pa"?, was the or^nisation of society towards the gratifica I 1,M "^'^^'''S individuals in political societies. It was this conception that the old radicalism held always in the foreground. It was, therefore, towards the Ideal finality in political institutions, and of a so ved and the conciliation of all interests effected, that Its purposes moved.' But all this, it is per ceived. has been changed. An absolutely new world of Ideas has been born beneath it. In L words S • I,!!f"" ^'"'"' ^''"""'' ^'""" ^•"''"'■*' ™'- "i"- c I8 WESTERN CrVIUSATIQN CBAT, the writer in question : "The radical notion of polit- ical finality has been doomed. Since radicalism was first preached as a creed in England, all political as well as all scientific thinking has been vitally affected by the conception of evolution."! As we regard the situation developing itself under our eyes we may distinguish how deep beneath the surface of events the principles to which its meaning IS related in reality extend. They are principles which cannot be expressed in any theory of temporary or local causes. "There is no more patent and signifi- cant fact la contemporary Europe," says the same writer elsewhere, "than the failure, if not the abso- lute collapse, of parliamentary government. In France and Italy the Chamber of Deputies is haWreadcd. half-despised. In Austria, fortunately, the Reichs- rath does not govern."" In England, the accom- paniment of the conditions already described has been "a visible decline in the esteem in which Par- liament is held, and of the genuine authority which It possesses."' In Germany the Liberalism of the middle decades of the nineteenth century has ended in disillusionment, tending, amongst the parties that have succeeded those which professed it, towards a condition of avowed materialism in life and thought Now when the mind is carried back over the his- tory of the past, it may be perceived that there is a noteworthy fact to which the movement which has hitherto represented the cause of progress through- out the English-speaking world has been primarily ^ Political Science Quar/erfy, vol xiv. ■ « Biamiirek,'' CoHUmpcrary Reviem, No. 397. THE CLOSE OF AN ERA 19 related. That movement, as it began its course both in England and America, rested ultimately on a broad basis, which was the same in both countries, namely, the existence o^ a deep moral enthusiasm for certain principles which had in the last resort a very definite meaning for their adherents. They were the prin- ciples to which it was firmly believed the inner and higher meaning of our civili&^:ion was vitally related. They were principles which were held, accordingly, to make one characteristic demand upon their adher- ents. All interests, local, personal, and institutional — including those of the State itself as conceived within the furthest limits of political consciousness — were held ultimately to go down before the claim which they made on the minds of men. The move- ment towards individualism, towards personal respon- sibility, towards the enfranchisement of the individual in all his rights, powers, capacities, and opportunities, was closely related to this fundamental principle with which modem Liberalism set out in England and America alike. It has been, beyond doubt, the con- sciousness, never expressed in formulas, but always present in the background, of the relationship of the individual to larger claims on him than any included within the purposes of the State, which has dominated the strenuous inner life of that process of political enfranchisement with which the genius of the Eng- lish-speaking peoples has been identified during the modem period in history. As, however, we watch the great movement of modem progress approaching our time, and follow the gradual development of the theory of society which accompanies it, we become conscious that we 30 'ASTERN CmiJSATION CHAP. ' El o ui nistory, and occupied once mnr» ♦!,« standpomt of the world in the kAV^of Sot,e As we look now at the problem which we see tl ing shape ,n our civilisation, the extraordlarchS" clear Tntf ,"''" civilisations is becoming » THE CLOSE OF AN ERA a, the awendency of the present in the evolutionary process. It was the rule of the present, and the ascendency of all the powers, forces, institutions, and interests able to dominate it, which constituted the characteristic fact to which the meaning of all other facts was related in this phase of the world's history The significance of our civilisation, on the other hand, as expressed through the modern movement of enfranchiseraen.. ' ,s been, .-,. we are now beginning to understand, to break thi. hitherto universal ascen- dency of the present. And the process of social evolution ,n which this end is being accomplished is one ,„ which all human activities -i„ economics, poll- .cs. ethics, and religion-are being drawn into the fn? ? °1^" '"*^S'^«''g P'-ocess, the controlling mean- ing of which tends to be projected beyond the content of an theories of the interests of society as included wijbm the limits of the consciousness of^he State What, therefore, is the significance of the remark- able position m modern politics wherein we see the forward movement in our time so deeply committed to a theoiy of progress in which it is this conc^ o1 of the ascendency of the present that is again every- where in evidence ? It is when, for answfr, we tu™ now to the inner Me of the party with which the cau^ of progress IS identified that we realise to the full the nature of the situation with which Western Libe« ism >s -ginning to find itself confronted in our civilisatio" The leading fact in Western history, which has accompariied the development of the'' intellectu" nlnT^t '^"•^'y ^«^« =.in .u ? . *<=<=ep'ance society- first of ^11 . It ''~°°'"''= P^<^«« « labour^'thfrtolhfreSti : t^'Srotter^ " nationallrade"throutho„rthe wXTt? ^r; condition of social order Jh\ " *''* '^^ ~S t^ri •"■"' '" ^"*»1' "' ~cuaed with two cau«. : The tr«„i.io„ ■■„„ due, in the first place, to the isolation of the economic factor from .11 the „the! e^re»,onof allpubhc purpose. In the second place, it was appar- !nderTf f f."" ""°" "' ""' •""°° "' «■« Chartists wh" adrift .1 ZT^' '''^'""'°'- «->"'"y""d vehemently cu bt ni""! """Wle-clas, RadicaU, leaving the latter imme Jd in busmen «thout the helping hand of labour, absorbed (as i, wJS ^,T/? ^"^^ "' *■= ^''"'"' »■"' '»"«<>■» of the state" {Pol,/,aU &««, Q^rtirfy, ,ol. xiv. pp. 82, 83). «♦ - WESTERN CmuSATIOM ou» that economic eviiritftlS."''°,r'' *° *"« •'ff«=t Whatever may even tthr *°'"'' '"'" themselves; its theories as^thoseof^netr"""' i"«ification o intervening betw^;7"7»^^^ velopment! th;rcaV:;part J be'n': r"'" '^ doubt as to tlie eaaenfM tl • ° '°"«^'' any •ocial development whi^h m''".'"^ °^ *"'' ?"*»« of As the evoluE watchef th^ m '^ "■'=''^^'''"'''- falling throughout o^ct i«t oH^rT" *'°"'y ruling factor: as he seesTt ^h n ^ '*'"'' °^ '*» in the con.itions'LSe,^ 2^i';-vitab,y nomic competition in its vnH„ ? ^ ^'■°'" «'=°- and cnditi^s but hose cTtrih ? "*" "" ''"^"*"« survival therein M. ■ ''""'""'"""g to success and ".ind becomrde7 ft, 'T.T ''°"''='"' °" ^''^ upon Which the worldlmIi[5r:cttll^'''^* for a time the contrnii;„„ • * ^na^^ted obscures tive chapter of tJe"!? "^^ ^"' *•>« distinc- to be manEt The S'f ' ^^''' ''^^"^ « '«« school have he s2 one Z °' 'u' Manchester overlies and oveSci: ToZs'^'tL"''™'!'^ characteristic vehicle through whS thi ^ ''"" '^' endeavoured to express its Z^ j * P'***"* ''as political drama inC civ iS ri: " "" '"°^^™ ciples which corresind rr" ^^."^ »« the prin- tjat has just beenSb r InTr '" V'""^"* of social development it is with thl ' . ! •"'"">' dency of the nresenf LVu "* "^ of the «.cen. THE CLOSE OF AN ERA »5 •chool U destined to be identified. It ig a. if the ^!r!^ f '" *''* *""'"' civilisations had been changed from a militanr to an economic basu! wM^ a. yet eve^r one of its other ruling prindpL had remained unaltered.' P"ncipies had As in this light we look at the applied results of th.s conception of society as they have beS deve oJ .n our cvhsation down into the period in whTch we In thl f„ T""' P"""' ""y ^* distinguished thro J^aJ^ characteristic struggle mafntained throughou our cml.sation in the modem period bv hbour against the terms of capital, all the de't^a^ we beg n to see, related to the fact which is here Itr^rr'- ^'''''' ''>* accompaniments of thU either side, it is now beginning to be clear that th^ one fact which weig-,ts!ts meiiing is hat h j^ *i" the ascendency of the present in the economic ^ «.oci.ted with th. .TpSn »f ,H "T°P°^^ conceptioM often w« ...lly nothing JL'^X I t.::^"JH'tT;'""''' "■'" ter «hool .et o7in EngLd. in thei, ^"^ * '*■"" «« "">="«. the foreground «>d i3ed nati™ > ^ ^ " """^ "•«' '""^ « related to the pnr,nit of we^th Pot '?* "^'"^ ^"""P''' ™ th.t e«h indi^Tii ki^ht o JLi:i"LTr"' '" ""■"•'■' own inter.*, he .oc.m«l.,ed C "fo^L^J",^ '" ST""? ■"* f« « each individual acted in thU fllwo. fh. ' ""* «^'' » " 36 WBsnaw civiusAncm .ul out in he modem period able, even in it. collective exp««.on to wi,ld only the weapon of the riS ^ the nght to hve. It has been a strugrfe therrforT in which «,ciety ha. found it,elf oppS SS barbarous and disorganising meth.^. of Srike. and lockouts on a growing scale; in which, ev „ whj^ l-hou; ha. succeeded, it ha. often been .uccIS only an condition, in which neither it. orhighe •nt rest, nor tho.e of .ociety are tending to be £ «.ately reahsed; and in which, as through the lonL process of modem labour-legislation the prim«^ co„ challenged by an increasing social instinct, the out" hne. of an immensely larger problem behind, towarf. In th? "". ""r^' """« ''°*'y •«<=<»»« visible In the wider phases of the industrial process t is wnicn society is becoming more and more consciouslv tTon^^f the M "r ''' ™""« ""-"■' »' '~«J: S f„ ndu«r::Tenl'd1;"r''"'' '"'"''^ a free «fr„„.„i! 7 '^'.^^^^^ 'o become essentially a free struggle for gam. divorced from all sense of responsibility, we see how the process has hv^h ent necessity, tended to eliminat'e f om it ail ^"S^^^ survival n a conflict waged under such condition. I THE CLOSE OP AN ERA *7 of wealth uid power in luch organisation! until they have become rivals in some respects of the State itself; the exercise of such unusual and immense powers, with no sense of responsibility other than that of the self-interest of capital in pursuit of gain ; the earning of profits which, when all allowance is made for benefits rendered in the organisation of industry, tend more and more to correspond to conditions of monopoly and less and less to equivalent in terras of social service; with, incidentally, the accumulation in individual hands of private fortunes tending to equal in capital amount the annual revenue of first-class States : are all features of a state of society in which, under the characteristic economic activities of the modem world, we see the ruling conditions of the ancient civilisations again being reproduced. They are all expressions of a single fact, namely, that as- cendency of the present in the economic process, which is the correlative of the position in thought already described, but which, nevertheless, cannot be, as would appear, the condition towards which human society is developing. As such a phase of social development moves slowly in our time toward its highest expression on the world- stage, it is the lurid and gigantic details of the same principle that continue to hold the mind. As in the international exploitation of the resources of the worid all nations have tended to come at last into a common market to compete for a diminishing margin of profit ; as, therefore, in a competition for gain divorced from' the sense of responsibility, we see the process here also falling to the level of its ruling factor, one of the most remarkable situations in history ha., gradually W WISTEItN OVIUaATIQN beoome defined With the development ol the move- ment toward* the eqiuUiution of economic conditions throughout the world there has emerged into the view of the leading peoplei a tendency, inherent in the proceM from the beginning, compelling capital at an ultimate stage of the process to close with the causes opposing it ; and, in a sustained and organised eflFort, to maintain the process of exploitation in trade and industry in the world at the level of its lowest standards iu human life and labour, that is to say, at the standards of the less developed races of man. kind. This is the phase of the problem which has alreajy begun to dimly haunt the consciousness of labour in our civilisation, and which, in a hundred complex forms, already makes itself felt in the international relations of our time. Yet it was the spectacle which the late Charles H. Pearson, in the last decade of the nineteenth century, calmly contemplated as likely to be realised at no distant time, and as the natural and apparently legitimate culmination in practice of the theories of the Manchester school. The day was probably not far distant, he assured us, when we should see the races of our Western civilisa- tion elbowed and hustled, and in large measure super- seded, by the yellow races of the world, through the destiny of capital to find in these latter its most effective instruments when it proceeded in due course, and in obedience to its inherent tendencies, to wage the economic conflict throughout the world under the lowest possible standards of human life and human labour.' ' Natiinut tifo and Characltr, chapt. i.-ia. > THE CLOSE OF AN ERA 39 The profound naterialisro of thit final conception, which — blind to the significance of the principle which our civilitation repreienti, and blind, therefore, to the meaning of the causes for which that civilisa- tion has wrought and suffered for a thousand years — contemplated the lower sections of the race extinguish- ing the higher, simply by reason of their ability to wage an economic struggle on more purely animal conditions, could hardly be carried farther. In it we see the conception of the ascendency of the present in the modem economic process which led James Mill in the early decades of the nineteenth century to assert that there was no place in the theory of society for a moral sense, as it was not req>::.-ed to discern "Utility,"! carried, as it were, to its final expression in the world process. This is the position in Western thought with which an era (.lOb, ' ' In ihe current literature of the social revolt throughout our civilisation, we only see, as it were, the theories of the middle decades of the nine- teenth century carried to their logical application. It is, in reality, the governing idea of Bentham, the Mills, I Mr. Lcdle Stepha, ipetklng of thii polemic of Junet Mill ■gainit tile moral trv^ •heoty in the dispute with Mtckintoita, uti jiutly, ih«t it " rcvealt the re»lly critical pointi of the true utiliUriaa doctrine. Mill would cut down the moral lente root and branch. The 'moral tenie' means a -particular faculty' necessary to discern right and wrong. But no particular faculty is necessa-y to discern ' utility.' . . . The utility is not the ' criterion ' of the morality, but itself consti- tute!! the moraUty " ( Tie Engliih UHlilarians, by Leslie Stephen, vol iip-3»0- • In it we see how, to use John Morley's words, " great economic and social forces flow with a tidal sweep over communities that are only half-conscious of that which is befalling them " ( Thi Lifi of Rick- artt CobdtHt voL ii. chap. xx.). 30 I ; WESTERN aVlUSATION CBAr.t society , • '.-.„.„ ' ^ °* "•* economic factor in ilisation at Ia;ge of Ae'r^T"\.'^.''^P^'^ '° °"^ "v- occupyi;^ da S'inl Jr'!?''°°' "" ^PP««d '« »»« lative^CaL of^^^rUet^enST "iJ'^ -^^^ yiew may be altered accordinl ?„ !k " P°'"' °^ interest concerned • but tl- -^f """"= »* *•>« the same in all case; -hi, T""' ~"'=^P«°" « in the economic J^essth^C"^^ "^ ''' ''^*^'"" the meaning of which may be Sd toT T''P"°"' the theory of our social nr^ . ^^"^ dominated c«tic development oTthe^r^f"' u''™"^'' '''*''«>»'> that tue contSgcentTthr''r"*"'y' "^""^'y- if the d«ma of i^'r:::pot£:iT^^r'^p">^'^'' that the ascendency of the ilf! . , P'*'^"*' ^"'^ the end toward w4h Z Zlf'f ^^ P'^^' » and political development mJ^^^ S^' TJ '"^«' ception from whirh ti,« • ™°^"- This is the con- bc^nnsmov^d '••* «'«"«t«al foundations have CHAPTER II THE SmFTrNG OP THE CENTRE OF SIGNIFICANCE IN THE EVOLUTIONARV HYPOTHESIS - THE PKINCIPI.K OF PROJECTED EFFICIENCY r J^rvi!,' '" "T ^"^""''^ ^''* °^ *''« »^'"« Of the remarkable position towards which the theory of our Western progress has been carried by recent devel- ThTl^"" "''^/^°>"«°"«'y hypothesis, it is in the highest degree desirable that the observer should, in deLH". **'"'^'"'^*'^°"^' ^ ^^' '^ possible/ to ttnstnt" T"* "'r^' ''°'° ''"'"' ">-* "-^"t and transient phases of social controversy which largely occupy the attention of the world. mil?^ *t* t'*P.*°«'^''« realising the condition of mind m which it is desiraole to approach the consid- eration of the problem of modem progress through the medium of the biological sciences is that which eveiy rally scientific observer who has followed the trend of recent thought will in all probability have taken for himself. There is possibly no one at the present time, who has made progress towards under- standing something of the governing principles of our social development, that has not arrived at a ^a\ T ^^ ^ ^'" *'"' "^'=«''*''y f°^ definitely and finally nutting away from him a conception which pervaued almost all departments of social phi- losophy in the past; namely, the conception that 3' 32 WESTERN CIVILISATION ^T . f " '^•=P''^"'«t of higher biolog; ^ that vast and complex seriee nf r.u "'"'"Sy- AU i.,„o : 11. , . "'"*"^* senes of phenomena, which we system ^;^f°P'»'^"^ throughout : there is only one system of law therem. Every phase of the socid hfe around us, political, economic, and ethicaP hTw ever se^.,e„tred and self.:o„tained it may ao^T; ordinate relationship to this central process of development. We must, in short, put T^v from ^^yrrofth"''^'*''^^'" thatw;L;:„7i:.S fny part of this process as an isolated study Its last human detans-those with which the sockl scSnc^ are concerned, and those in particular which ^ZZ down into the midst of Western progress -cTn^ike all those which have preceded them only be stJe! laws th^r ^ ^'°^^'' ^* ^ ^hole. and of the laws that have controlled it throughout. bet^wn'tht^nf,™ "°"^' '''' ""'"^ (°'f°"'' R™-" L.ctoe ,8o,l b. ...« "^ttetrS': ;:^"c:; r " "- '"'-^ " »^ it adTMce. tow.rrf. n- f P'°"" '" ™'"« of which « PROJECTED EmciENCY Now, the obsci ver who has noted the direction in which the biological sciences have been ^^u^^l recent developments in the evolutionary hypothesis sTon h^KT^r' "^^ ^*'^"°"^'^P °f 'bTconclu: 8 ons which have been reached, to theories and prin- cuples of human society accepted without question in the past, will probably find that there is a conviction Si to"^ fv"'"^ '^""•^ '° ^'^"""^ ^"-P^^ -do attain to defin.tiveness in his mind. It will come to uJT 'a ! ^'"""■"' ^^ P"^^^'^«' 'hat during the last few decades through which the world has lived an entirely new direction has been given to the course of human thought. The Darwinian hypothe' SIS as It left the hands of Charles Darwin, remains in all Its main features unshaken. It has surWved practically without serious challenge, the criticisms to which it has been subjected. And yet it ha Teen already overlaid by a meaning whic'h ca^L ^s S V'^ •'T"'' '^^ '""P"^ °f Darwin's con- Self !° ''""T'^^'S* '^ ">«= Darwinian hypothesis tself earned us beyond the more eler.^enta^ evolu- tionary conceptions of Goethe and Lamarck We have, it would appear, passed into a new era of knowledge by a development in our conception of the process of biological evolution, which will almost certamly be seen, when viewed from the horizon from which the philosopher and historian of a later penod will regard our time, to dwarf into compara- tive insignificance other features of contemporary thought upon which attention has been concentrated to a far greater degree. No worker in any depart- ment of social philosophy, however great and varied his qualifications in other respects, can any longer be 34 WESTERN aVIUSATION said to be fully equipped for the discussion of those problems of our social development with which the ^rld IS struggling until he has perceived, in general ^ect at least, the bearing of the change which has been effected on the process of our social evolution nrst place, bring into view the nature of the develop- wlliT 1 ^- "^^^ P'"''' ■" '^^ hypothesis S biological evolution since it left the hands of Darwin The mam outlines of the Darwinian theory of the evolution of life are, in car own time, familiar to nearly all informed persons. It may be well, how- ever, m order to bring more clearly before the mind their relationship to the subject with which we are about to deal, to briefly pass them in review The fundamental conceptions of the Darwinian theory are only two in number. We have, in the first place, the enormous power of increase with which every form of life, from the lowest to the highest, appears to be endowed ; so that its numbers continually tend to press upon, and even to alto- gether outrun the means of comfortable existence for the time being. "There is no exception." says Darwin "to the rule that eveor organic being rr^'^v'*^*' ** "" •'•Sh a rate that, if Jt destroyed, the earth would soon be covered by the progeny of a single pair." i The increase of life, as Mr. Alfred Russel Wallace points out, is always in a geometrical ratio. « Linna-us has calculated that, if an annual plant produced only two seeds -and there is no plant so unproductive as this-and their seed- Imirs n«Tt produced two, and so on, then in ' Origin t/SptcUi, chap, a *Danrinitm, p.«s- " PROJECTED EFnaENCV twenty years there would be a million plant, i "Even slow-breeding man." wy, Darwinf "has doubled .n twentyfive years, and. at t^ «te in kss than a thousand years there would liter^J'no" be standing room for his progeny." a Of every form of Me m the world the same law holds good : Us^te of mcrease tends to overbalance the conditions ofl. This is the firct fundamental principle with which we are concerned in the Darwinian hypothesis The second principle which we have to t£ In to ducT^f''' ""^ '"'' '" '""^ '"dividualslo Jri! ^S/ ''"'^'""=y *° ^*"^«°" in all directions wifhin smaj degrees with the capacity for the tmnsmission 2 M Tr' * u" '•''"'*• ^'^ '"'"^dual variability! Tn f lelh " '""^'" «=°nsiderable pains to show !ln. 1 K^ exammation of the evidence,* "is a general character of all common and widespread species of animals or plants"; and. further, "it ex- tends so far as we know, to eveor part and organ, whether external or internal, as weU as to eS mental faculty"; and, still further, "each paH liZ:;Zs'^t '=''"*''"^«"'' ^' -'•epen'iently From these two great classes of facts, now gen- ne d.ph«,. „ «ckon«l the dow« br^ of Sl^nown •.0»r«»«ini,,e.ia.«iidl». •VWrip.gi, %KfM S6 WESTERN CmUSATION OLW. eraJly accepted without question, there has been deduced the distinctive law of Natural Selection which, in the words of Darwin, consists of "the preservation of favoured races in the struggle for life. Despite the overwhelming ratio at which life IS produced -so great, as we have seen, that even in the case of the slowest breeding animals it has only to be imagined to coatinue to any appreciable length ot time to see that the numbers would exceed all possible conditions of existence - there is. under ordinary circumstances, no perceptible increase in the numbers of any .pecies. The balance of nature IS evenly maintained from generation to generation through prolonged periods of time. There must be therefore, at some point, or indeed at a great number of points m the life of every individual a tremtadous struggle for a place in the categories of life. Here we have what appears to Darwin's mind to be the doctnne of Malthus on a universal scale. For "as many more individuals of each species are bom' than can possibly survive; and as. consequently, there is a frequently recurring struggle tor existence, it follows that any being, if it vary, however slightly, in any manner profitable to itself, under the complex and sometimes varying conditions of life. wiU have a better chance of surviving, and thus be naturally selected.^ From the strong principle of inheritanc^ wh,ch the Uiw of N.tur.1 Selection „ here suted i. fte TenS Selection m the term, above quoted, w«, .uggeated to Darwin by readmg Malthu, on Population, and in the textTTthe Origin cfZZ ne ac«.r.be.u » -the doctrine of Malthu. appUed to the whole .Li » PROJECTED EPTiaENCY ,- say selected variety will tend to propagate its new and modified form." ' It is, in short, to the accumulation through infinite tracts of time of small variations useful or beneficial to the organism, acquired in a ceaseless rivalry, and in an environment continually changing, that we owe the extraordmanly varied and complex forms of life in the teeming world around us at the present time As the result of the ceaseless operation of such a cause. It has come about, as Darwin points out, that "the structure of every organic being is related, in the most essential yet often hidden manner, to that of all the other organic beings with which it comes into competition for food or residence, or from which it has to escape, or on which it preys."» It may be metaphorically said, he continues in another striking passage, "that Natural Selection is daily and hourly scrutinising throughout the worid the slightest varia- tions— rejecting those that are bad, preserving and adding up all that are good; silently and insensibly working, whenever and wherever opportunity offers at the improvement of each organic being in relation to Its organic and inorganic conditions of life. We see nothing of these slow changes in progress until the hand of time has marked the lapse of ages, and then so imperfect is our view into long-past geological ages, that we see only that the forms of life are now different from what they formerly were."' «d vegetable kmgdom. " (p. 3). It wB! be of «,me interett to keep th« fact m ™w m endeavouring to pre.ent to the mind the relationship between the political conceptions of the Manchester school of thoueht and the development which has since taken ptace in the DanrinLo OngtH e/Sftciet. Introduction. • md. c iv. 38 ""STERN dvOISATION our. certL'iSi;:^^-:!?^'^ - k«^ dean, i„ view criticism i. to find in ifl l^^l^^. °' »" 'kmenUiy development or dive "Lte aw'"*'™'' *='"''*• '«^ we must never lo« S „, *k*^ '''*'^" '*"«* But and universality S the atL • '"""'"dou, power never forget Je Lch ^ thet!* '"'•' ^« ""« of .election ; that the incrcli! „7r/'^".'^"« P*^" only the few are sel^^^„?! '"** " '"''°'*« ^ '^at determined by some^ut'in . "' '^' ••'•^*''"> « controversies betweerth' n, •'^- *=*"• '» «>' *"« naturalists, who «w "faws T""*"'-' *' ""*' themselves in all dTrert^, *1 "^T^ P"'J*'«'n« sistent tendency of th!^r °"«'' "*«' *« con- how, whether slh, IS tTt""" """ "^ '° '"ow coincided with the fitlestT^"*' v"^ '»"" ^«'-« else they would have L^ t^T ?"?'' '"P^'^*' " nugatory.. I„ the picSs 77^"^ °' '*""*'«' vast stretches of time w?L„l ^'^ *f"°'^^« "^^ the law to have been^' J'T'' '" ''""*' """der Mr. Wallace's wZ: .^ ^tTr^ ^L'"'''''^ most healthy, or the «,„.» r? ""^anised, or the tected,orthem"st inteE„r^''"" '^' ^'' P^o- W run, gain aT^vS^^'^j T,^^*»"f'. '» 'he inferior in these qua]Z,-th!r' ^ *"*='' *« -«-»W> And they wiTtenH . '!' " ^''''' «^'* descendants in cumulaTve de- I"""'"'' '° '^^^ which that fitness dep^ndi,;''^" *'"' '"^'*'^» "P"" i«..cx.). *"" """*»^ P'«ference (ZJ*^™ ■ PRCTEcraD Emcjorcv ^ 39 This, in brief recapitulation, is the outline oi th- Possibly no other single conZtS, of th, h "^^ which iJC!- V^l ^""^ °^ ''«'=«*'<»' through Which It has survived, there are probably few t; ueht ful mmds at the present ti„e who, having oncj grasped the nature of the evidence by wWch Ti. supported, have not received a deep and T^tiL i» press.on of its relation to actualities and 7 ^e" extraordinary significance of the tendencies in know ledge which It has set in motion amongst us-i tribute which Profwor S.r« x^Jt^T ™ ' " """'""K among the chu.Vf .brtLt liLiT a- ."''«"«"»^ ^e placed it l-d4k. I„ the de^S^Vnt^the ^rid^T^V' "■•^l"-'"-"^'^ . .n,e ide. «.e th. orV,^. sJiZ Jl 'u^^^'^Z 40 WKfTERN aviUSATnON r- ij* ■ our. original form. Let u. «« IT ^ '^"''''* '» '»• to the mind .om d^^ r. e "d.""" .'""^ •"""« deveIopme„twhichha.uke' ace 'the "' ''*' •"nee it left Darwin's hands conception whth^dr;„rthe" s/V"? '''' '"^- -" England, Germany and aL ^'^ '^" ''°"*' '» in« the evidence ^•p;"„',tkrt?:" 1°"'^ "'«»"* rests, will be conscious orator *^°'""°»'»0' view has been taking place !nu ^ "' "'""»'°'> "hich Natun.1 Selectfon' "L'ke 41"T °" °' '"'' ''''' °^ tures, the change hw W^ ^ 'mportant depar- underanumberof ph«eJ"" fr'"''^ «^»dua:!>. and "e well acquainted wThM Y "l'^^"^ "''-^ "ho which unde'r lorZortl^Tt °' ^"^'"''^^ to it, have remained un^? ^^''^ contribiUed and significance of th*"*"" "' "'^ ""'"•«='«' whole "" P'°'=''" °f movement as a At the present day any close student of th.o e^ 5^««« can hardly rise fm™ T ' ^"■^'» book without having lef" on h *''^'""^y "^ that clear and definite impreL„n ^uT^'' "^' "»« ability feel, over and T>!^ *'" '" "" P'ob- steadily and^orsLrnVwin'Stf ''^- '•'"' vision of the keen InnZi™ P' ''*^°''« bim the pp. .02, ,03). ^^''' '^"« "/^"/--^r, by A. H. S.yc.. roL i. ■ PROJECTED EFnaEi«cy Now, keeping this in mind, there i. a noin* „» uZTT IT", •' " °' importance to^^c? able feSre. ^^Z^^^SlZ^^ T' ^atirec?"- ": beheld trr^lS- There can be no doubt under this hwH n • repeatedly expresses hi.self int^TonXofS^Z the later references in the (7r' *»' «vo- •««inin.i.t'>donEroh,- ?f.^'"'*'''"'« '«« i« to .how that Nat„« 8,1^^' ''"■?«''°"' ha. been the law of Natu J SeSfon ;.^ ^""^" '^^^ out life. .i„p,y i„ i,r :,•=;-; « "operated though- individual, taking part Iri tL . "*"*"• °' 'he a. it went on at^anTparticur.?'^*^''' ''"' "•"*°'=« of the proce« of^™ atd"'"% ^« '"'^nlng conceived it in life h^'f! *i«^elopment, a. he to the intere.t. of L .^diS^hf"'"'' '^'''^ «n maintaining a place In «,; • , *""' '"8«««i 'o the anprovement of e«h cr."„„ rf.^V"""*"'""- "" '»-l» i»org»,c condiBon. of life » (^S^"-,'" "''"°° *'' "» o.»«ic ««! V ""fin 0/Sftntt, p. ,03). j ■ PxojicrcD KFnaENCv .. faJWdul.. own place or that of iu you^.t thU contemporanr .truggle for existence The whole d««a of progre« in life wa.. In .hort. regardld by hin, a. proc ,g i„ ,he direction, and throuT the n.edmm o. the qualities contributing to .uccef. and ToJ'et'h :.""'h' '"%"«"' '"«"'^' '""^""-S a], of each generation. The qualitie. with which he dealt were ..mply tho« which had relation to .ucce„ or aumval for the time being in thi. .truggle. They had^no relation to any other function or ufility whaN kni'^^t' ^ •"":«"'« P«»«nt condition of knowledge i, compared with that at the period at S ^S olal' "'^''^P"""' "' 8^"* significance tahlv K P'""^*-* development which must inevi. tably be aswcuted in the future with a shIftingTf ^channel, in which thought ha. hitherto flowed While, on one hand, the distinctive Darwinian orin^ hT old •''''«"' ^''^'=''°" •"'''^' •'• ground witK ts old significance, the free struggle for existence m the present and the qualities necf ssaiy to rc«« therein, which Darwin saw shaping the7hole cou" e of p ogress, is. on the other hand, coming slowly but this law. We see the curtain being gradually lifted. to whTcT;h "^ ' '""■ ""'' °' P'''"^-- behint to which the interests of the existing generation of mdivduals in this struggle are coming to ^Z in altogether subordinate relationship When we look at the statement of the law of Nat«, i^I Selection as Darwin left it. it may be perceived (-•I 44 ynSTKRV CIVILISATION CBtf. ttwS r„I?'V«"* " I "««!"«>« involved « !J /hi •' ^"' "S"** "PP*'*"*- It « evident that the venr essence of the principle is that it mu" act m the manner in which it produces the most effective results. It must act through the meS?^ ofi?.^?'**'"""'^- "^^ quaUties In W of which It must, in the long run. consUtentlv X cnm..«te are those which most effectively suL* .t n tTe °' *'*' '^«*'' "'^^•'"'y- Yet this mS wmT" l" "^"""y'' °* "''""■'y. the majority wh,ch constitutes the long roll of the yet unbo2 gene^tions. Other thing, being equal'Sat is ™ «y. the winnin qualities in the evolutionaor pr^eL niust of necessity be those qualities bv whiVh fk. ^e-sts of the existing in Jduals hav^ ^en V^I It cannot, in short, have been simply the oualihV. useful to the individuals in a mere^tlgte for EtuSrrr *""'=' •>-««ii«cted the™SL: Natural Selection as a whole. When that process is viewed m operation over a long period this fa^bl comes evident. In the strenuous'«,ns ^f imf dt have tt'Tt "" K^ '' "P*"*^ P^'"- '"--t nave been, on the whole, in the evolution of the qualities contributing to the interests of the v^t mjomy m the future that the controlling LeanTg hLll^*'^''''^"-P'°"^^« always centred It musf SmSt J ?'""' V"' '°"S "">• ^ontinuous'Jy dis- aimmated. It must have been always these infinitely larger interests in the future that'over^eighS ^ I «■■ PROJECTED EinciIMCV- ., 45 S*^ ^*^' "'' f^y go «> far a, to My that, under the few of Natural Selection, as we come to und<^ m those adjustments "profitabl..- to itself," which filled so Urge a place in the minds of the elrly Dar wmmns. have actually no place, except in so far as hey are included in. and have contributed ta tU, larger end in the future. ' Accordingly, if we follow now the course of the work and research which, since Darwin's death, ha! been enlarging the scope of his work, it may S d" tinguished that there has been a gradual buf certata shtftmgof what maybe called thfcent. o S cance m the evolutionarjr conception. It i ^t much that there has been a Rowing tendenS o emphas^e the struggle for the life of the young^ t tte stnigg le for .he life of the majority of the sX erf the soaal aggregate-as against the struggle for features have received deserved and increasing aV. entron. But they do not. in principle. S^^he D^n left ,t That is to say. the centre of signifi. ^nl "til, , eft" ""T'^^'"'"'^" ^''^ --^^ '^-- ^Z% t '" '^*'=' ^^"^ ^"^n placed it, namely, m the present.^ The principle with wLich UK WESTEPN CIVIU8ATI0N CBAT. One of the first contributions, which may be «iid was a«...abiees:;.tL^t^re ZLtS ^ Geman naturalists held at SaizhtrgT^lT « MraSs T ""^ "r •"' '^ ^ v. aiT. Herbert Spencer's Biohev wUI h*. t,^v «lS r. T f "'*" '"PP"^' """l '^hich may be £^^tr;t":;e=5?^:; to in the iMt clapter, which h J«i7^ •? ^^ *°'^'' «''««• within the horiK.n of thep^r «™'««ion«jr pro.. li« • Tit Dmratitn tfLifi. " PROJECTED ErnoENcy 47 grerter length and degree of life ■ ^ to 'e re«rded « a necessary accompaniment of greater 7^^ t.on.> According to the other view^S ma!f^ deacnbed as the theonr of internal ' contoUengtt of We was to be taken as related to the structure Which the body was composed. It was believed to belargely u,fluenced by the rate at which the^tj proc^ses take place, inertness of habit contriburi^g to relatively great length of life, and vie, versa. Down to the time at which Professor Weismann'a paper was published, it was admitted that there were great and unexplained difficulties in the way of Lth wr^itht"' it" "'^^ "^^^ ^^'^ i-ec'oncilS with either. It was perfectly true that there were large amiaals endowed with ^t longevity .buT^ nials. Similarly, inertness of habit might appear^o be correlated w^th length of life; but. on thHthlr hand, some of the most marked instances of ertnu* dinary longevity were to be found amon«t Tc^ of ammals where the vital precesses take^e S the greatest rapidity, namely, the birds; this cT«s also, on the whole, surpassing even the mammalia in average duration of life.* ""maiia m » J5"*.T T '"•='' ^'^^'^' "'^^ ^ held to stand out clearly It was that Natural Selection must in any case have tended to pnnnire the greatest poMible advantage, and the highest pos.ible%S ff 15?"^ '/'>''*^. I 'T* Se. *o J»nn^ ,,,5^. •""««*»» '//"A <". by A. E. Shipley. •""■mj J»t 4« WESTERN CmuSATKW catt. Of S€lf^uatum,lox the individual in the .rf„.i d^^rthi^-^'-n^^ ''^■^^^^^^^ tin f rf ^'u'*'^ "•* significance of the culmina! t.on of hfe ,n the social state as consisting laS b •i • . f^*^ "ay ''* at once understoor] whai. .t » sa.d that the author not only c^S^ed Se wmZ nril f . * '^""'*'°" °^ '"« ^ the individual to seU-realisation m the individual, but was reallv dei^ndent upon conditions, which in^olvedTat ^^ the needs of the species."* In other wor's the riT ^T'T °' '^^ ^ «"• '"^aptationXll w the mdiv^ual under the influence of NatS Sd^t.on. and i„ relation to principles and causes The r T^^^^ 'he range of hi, own inteST The fact which Professor Weismann found in tte • Th, Prindplts cfEMcs, { 48. ■ PROJECTED EFFiaENCy 49 ascendant was, therefore, the ne«i «f fi.. trolling and dominating, at least ±v„' Tv '°"- the conflicting facts from Jm l '^''' '™'''»' •cio«. of « fteTtoe H^ *'" "" "" "*" «PP'"= This was, however, only the example which served whichTjT''"";.*"* "*'"'' °' '"^^ '-»S Some thT"""""^ '''* •"*=" «'^«»' "«« to l^ come the connectmg and underlying principle in a man^s,ded movement in biology^ if ^hiebrJ",: 7^ ^rZ^ '° ^"''^'- "^ '""^ t«»d«cies in mo^! Lolvt J" "' '''''^' *'""'' *»' '«*'*' *<> "-ome Now it will be noticed, if we tur» again for a moment to the On^n of Sp.cus. howTr tS that followed .t. Darwin, in dealing with the effeS of Natural Selection operating on individuals Z En'" \'*™^^'' *°' "*"'"«=«' «^«» J^* «^- ination up to a certain fixed limit and no farther. of propcw. Romane. hw remarked th.t hi. ™- iT . coU.^.on of fact.. Now it wa. beginning to be «.n Z V^ lea mat wa> tiie ultunate object of icientific quett (Dannn ^ '•ftT Darmn, vol. i., Introduction). ' l^*«n»w tf *• WWTERN CnnUSATKMf ^^^^ As, however fmn, »!.: ■ .^ ^ ""* earned. Whole represe«. Ti ni^JSTd" ''~"" " * When the »i„d i, well aTqSd^thTe ?T""^ details of the controversierlolhri! ;u '*'^''»'«1 have given rise thlt !t» V f" ""** ^^^^ tinuouTlv fi,^'„„ »! "'*"°" •'•°"'<1 be kept con- wereiTe^er"'"" ^'^"'^^'"^ ^'^^ '''>^«^»» i4^iTi^'2:\^ eariy Darwinian, had been perceived it in l^ • ^*^'" '" '''^««»'* « they les, conten-j^r^ sTS whr^'"^ °' "'^ «=««- tention. and^le^^TtSU S rr,' ')'\''- on Which Na^rJI^^^r pr^.S^K^^'^ portant results in the strugrfe of iff! • f ""' raOJBCTED EFFIOKNcy tion we worked outbv th^ ' ^* '^™""' °* ^^o'"- wWch the cmS now ri Jr*- °' "'''''°" ^'°'» vidual.. but whole ine^t ''''„''" "°' °"'^ '""'■ »nd type,. unconscSy^tted /^' '" ' "^'*' for long age, i„ a .truS^e^n 2,, -f' «'•''"'' ""'* A/- i. the detennS qu^y^t^^^^^^ '^' the types in which ft,- **"f"'y' and m whjch only tnm,n,it their efficieT^* We t^ Tsh W'"" '" within view of a wide ran^! T u "'*' '"'""eht " it we«. with a «Lw wLh r.„ « '"'''"^*' projected beyond the coK'^'',HTprenr ""'''^ theoor asT^he ntni. ""'°"=''«1- Weisn,ann>, orher^Utj, ,„d p«g.„«rr^^?™'«'»' ''««*'y. in U. tteorte, ^•"-estUa^um. »oUi c^ 'L- ^'"' «^'*'"«""i «»rf«i.« ,«i. 1 94 ynSTBKS dVIUSATIW out, depending ultimately on any inherent molecular co" iy nTu,^* sTr"' "'' '-""'-^tbened or cui^J by Natural Selection just aa the needs of the apeciea had required. In the lowest or .ingle-celled K of We however, there wa. nothing corresponding?' the phenomena of natural d.ath at all. In these form, the cycle of existence was unending At » tinlj^l. •"''' "^^^ *'P*"^*' P»^ °* 'he parent con- tinuing to live and grow until it again divided, and so to which biology had as yet advanced. ^ If in the lowest types of life the cycle of existence cycle of the life of the cells of which the body was of thi «1? *^ "^'"^ '"^'^''^ J"" " *« need the^cST!,' 7,^"';'^J-'«» the phenomenon of Ihi.r^^*' *'*'' "* "•" '"'•'^'•"«' »t the point at which It began to be encountered in natnre-Mmely amongst the multicellular forms of life-to^Sn «dered as due to causes inherent from the ^^^ g w« to"^ °^ *« "::jy<='« « the higher forms of life WM to be considered as due to such causes? In S^H / r °* ^"""^ S''*«'°"' Had it not ^hmd It. in short, some principle of massive utility « the evolutionary process at the point at which it S encountered -a principle of utility the «gn.ficance of which must have been projected altc! ■ PROJECTED EFFiaENCr mm gether beyond the mere interest of the individual for the time being? «~ wr ,,1'!.1'k'!"**'u?,*'"" *'"*•*'"" " '"•« »* '»>« no** remarkable m biology. It may be considered. »id Profeasor Weumann. in effect, that life came to be permanently endowed with a fixed duration in the ndmdual-at the point at which we first encounter tnw phenomenon, amongst the multiceUular forms -under the operation of the hw of Natural Selec- tion ; and because of the utility of such a phenome- mUZ . T'f"^ ^"^^ °^ ^"^^ "Pon *hich me had entered.* „/••' .f";'=**°" •" "Wch the suggested principle of utUity lay. we may now perceive even more dearly than did Professor Weismann at the time.» The phenomenon at the base of all the progress which hfe had made was that of variation; for it was this which supplied the raw material upon which Natural Selection had worked. It was evident, how- fn • wnruN.dviLisATioif •w, M toon M attention becuae (bed um. .u CUM. of vrktion in the typeToTlWe iSt^^! *? eel]«l« fonn.. that i/ the'SiliL.I^;;: ^ have come to „«Ki.te with the lat^TInd hiltlr ^ «~e. of evolution could not have aSe„ p^f^ k^JT tion and p,„^^ ^ ^^ ^^^^ witneu the« phenomena among the higher loan, of Z SuX fom.. muat have been, other thing. ^Sngequ?S theadvan^whirh ""*"'«"«•> accompaniment of me aavance which wa« being made. The i„«ij^-i i Must die to serve »h. 1, ■ individual to nme nuat doubtfu). frnTThT?!^ <:<»JMtii« (rendered If form, of life («aAc^ iT^r-l , °"»"» •« U" certtlnty th.1, -ithh,d.fini..^,:f^J''j^^'^t"^«»«) "'«' ■«» "^™«^ "«-.....«i.:.7rhr:''tT:^---- ■ wojKTB) KpnasNcr „ IlnlJ'wW*""''*?'* **' "*• ~""»' "*• here out- li«it«riri^rS Selection operating through u„. ln,»-« •. 1 , ""*' ■"<* concerned with the fadefimtely larger interest, of number. al,^v. in/ n«te and a!wav« in »k. i . ""'"«:r» aiway. mfi. the death of the individual. But here we h^ tt,- phenomenon pre,ented to u. at an S Z^Xtl evo ut ^ ^^^ fundamtnty «^;r^^ Jo, of th.. pnnciple of the «icrifice of the tedSi" dent method (if we <«, LL^l ,. f ^ ™mber»me .nd le« effi. tte tctMl per»n of . Z^„i '"'™ .«»''"« >' l^d to t.ke pU« i, I«*hofUfr~°)lt'7P'"'"*^''>»' "■'««<' with inVfiaite «ii».»..tw<;JdLk;p^ tlto^'^ T """^ "■» '«'''« g.o«.tio» w„ ta^.''^J„\« f -» «^«« ^^^ Tiduil wu Umited to the timT-l "y. "tee the hfe of e«h indi- P***''»**i'l«"»«oi»TebeenfbUowedinlifr^ " 6 --a di«d 58 WESTERN CIVIUSATIQN out, underlying from the outset the vast progression which life had begun to make upwards. In recent biological thought from this point for- ward, we may be said to be in full view of the charac- tenstic development we have been endeavouring to describe. We see the centre of gravity in the evo- lutionary hypothesis in process of being definitely shiited out of the present into the future. We see the Darwinian principle of Natural Selection being accepted with increasing certainty as the ruling pnnciple throughout the processes of life. But we see it no longer regarded as related in all its meaning to the interests of individuals, "red in tooth and claw with ravine," in a contemporary struggle for existence in the immediate foreground, which fiUed the imagination of the early Darwinians. It is not necessary to enter here upon the techni- calities of the wide issues which have been raised by the further group ot theories enunciated by Professor Weismann under such titles as the Continuity of the Germ-Plasm, the Non-Inheritance of Acquired Quali- ties, the Significance of Sexual Reproduction in the Theory of Natural Selection, and Retrogressive De- velopment, nor upon the merits of the many contro- venues that have been waged round them. Our concern here is with the fact which now stands in the background behind all the controversies to which these theories have given rise, namely, the new and larger conception of the method of the operation of the principle of Natural Selection in the evolutionary process. The distinctive feature of the change is the relegation to a secondary place of the interests of the individual and the present, and the emergence PROJECTED EFFIOENCr S9 Into sight of causes associated with the interests of the future and the universal, through the medium of which Natural Selection, entirely subordinating the former to the latter, dominates the evolutionary process towards particular ends over vast periods of time. If we take up the subject at any point and read between the lines of existing controversies it may be noticed how marked this feature has become. In the discussion, for instance, of the phenomena of sexual reproduction as related to a principle of mas- sive utility in the phenomenon of variation, : re has been brought into view the principle of Natural Selection operating under conditions in which we have continually before us this fact of the mterests of the future weighting all the processes of the present Whatever may be the outcome of conflicts of opmion to which particular views or assertions have given rise, there can be no doubt as to the main outUnes of the order of progress as it is now pre- sented in this maUer. We see it as a process in which generations, species, and entire types have been matched against each other in a function of selection, weighted always by a meaning in the future, to which the interests of individuals and gen- erations alike have become entirely subordinate. We see the problem of reproduction as it now prcvaUs amongst the higher forms of life, approached by many devious and tentative paths amongst the early types, as the principle of utility lying behind it begins to make itself felt in the rivalry of existence. We watch the outlines of the immense problem grad- uaUy revealing themselves, and notice how it is the «s WESTERN aVIUSATICW CRU burden of the generations to come which in reality controU the direction of the whole process. Apart from all outstanding controversies the fun- damental features of the problem are now deariy apparent To combine together the hereditary quali- ties of two distinct individuals, and thereby to secure the advantage to be obtained from the ceaseless mixing together of the individual tendencies to varia- tion of a whtle species, was an end which could only be accomplished in one way. In every new life it became necessary for nature to return to the original starting-pomt, namejy, the single cell. For it was at this stages and here only, that the combination w the new mdividual of the hereditary qualities of both parents could be accomplished.! We perceivt therefore, how a great number of phenomena, affect- ing, on the one hand, the character of the single cells which form the starting-point, and, on the other hand, the cha:^cter of the adult individuals, -phenomena for which the most far-fetched and fantastic explana- tions have been sought by inquirers, - have no other meaning than the simple one that they have been adaptations acquired under the influence of Natural Selection for the purpose of effecting this funda- mental necessity to which life had been rendered subject The principle of utility which lay behind the higher processes of reproduction — utUity to the generations always in the future -has been, in short, tae sole end which has silently controUed an immense range of modifications in character, funo tion, and form, which we see in progress in all direo UODS as development has continued upwards. I Jtttmj/t, by A. Weanaum, toI. i. pp. 151^ ,jj. FROJBCTED EmaENCy 8l As the process has reached the higher forms of life it is the same principle— the subordination of the present in the interests of the future— which is to be observed working itself out at closer distance, and m simpler form. On the one hand, we have the ever- continued progress towards increasing diflferentiation of function and complexity of structure in the adult individual. On the other hand, we have the fixed and immutable necessity imposed upon nature, by the fundamental conditions of the problem, of return- ing for every new individual life to exactly the same starting-point as at the beginning— the single cell.' The effort to bridge effectively the ever-increasing interval of helplessness in the .ndividual, which in- tervenes between this starting-point and the -dult stage of continuously increasing complexity, gives nse to a new and imposing class of phenomena in the functions which b^n to attach to parenthood. We see the burden of the future continuing to press with ever-increasing weight upon the present as these functions develop under the stress of Natural Selec- tion. We reaUse how great a struggle has, in reality, centred round this institution of parenthood through- out the evolution of life, and see how one type after another has failed and fallen behind, in the struggle to meet in the most efficient manner the growing demands of the future upon the present. The lower forms of life, in which the young leave the egg in an immature state and are cast upon the world without parental care, are gradually left behind. In the birds the burden of the future is more efficiently met. Development is carried far forward in the egg, and 1 Cf. £soj(j, by A. WeiiimMn, rgl. L pp. 152, 153. *■ WESTERN CmUSATlON cBAfc the young have the advantage ot parental care after. irards. In the mammals, another shoot on the tree Of life has carried the possibUities of parenthood much higher. The young are no longer subjected to the risks of a separate existence in the egg, and they continue to receive sustenance and care for a length- ened penod after birth. In the mammals themselves we see the same stream of development in progress m the rise from the marsupials to the placentals. Entire species and types, failing, as it were, und-.-f the buiden of the future, gradually drop out of the wee as Natural Selection, dominating the evolu- tionary process towards a particular end over im- mense stretches of time, carries the leading shoot of me gradually upwsrds towards man. As progress has continued toward increasing com- plexity of structure in we individual, on the one hand. •0 has the interval of development to be spanned in the life of every individual, continued to be lengtii- ened out on the other. Heavier and heavier has accordingly grown tiie burden of parenthood. More and more insistent under the conditions of progress has become the demand of the future upon th- prwent, on the one hand; more and more urgent under the operation of Natural Selection has grown the necessity for meeting it efBciently, on the other. In aU this we have only the simplest and most obvious example at close quarters of the action of a principle which we must regard as opcrating-and as a rule under much more complex conditions— in every direction throughout life.» In the operation wmch Mr. A. R. W.l]«e bu recnUy rei«*«d Duwin'. crigiaal 4« PROJECTED EFnOENCIf of that deep-seated cause in life which makes it pos- sible for the higher forms to maintain their pl^e, only by continuous rivalnr and selection, it cannot be Mid by any stretch of the imagination that the ad- vantage towards which Natural Selection is working i8oner.-hich is shared in by the existing Keneration |rf individuj. With the reLting adva^ a"™- trJ^iiJT '*^'''"*^ ^^ '^°°« "'« '°^ that life has I^n flrV'f '* °°" t"^'' '""^^''^ '»J»rious. or even fatal, to krge numbers of the existing iidi- ine aatBeac itudard in the lem ii. in ftct !»•.» .k. j- » n«y more— md here we have the deep import of the mf-rf-i. »tS.r^'"r •^'"'' -iU.whichtS. .'^^I'nT^J^ could, in the long na. perut Bmult^eooriy with it • for JJSTwtr Uce ob«r.e^ the "„,r«„el, rigid i^on'of N..^ M«a"n 1^ render „y .ttempt to «Iect mere om^nent .neriy .^„"" ^ rev«t (^Darmntim, p. 295). There cm be ao doabt u to fh. h^ «cL°:^/T r"""* " "■- ""'^* -^^^ ^»d here reached may with advantage be compared bv any inl««ed STSL^ 1 J"^. "r^ """"^ "'"'*' ""J f-™* •I'ouid grre pleasure to man and the lower animalfc — that it 1,^.1. of beauty in if rimplert fo™ wa. fi,^ ^. ^-^ dTnt^"" «y more than how certain odoum «,d flavo„^we« ^ 1^ agreeable- (.Orifin o/Sp.n,s, chap. xv.). ""^ 'I <*♦ WESTERN CmuSATION ooj. viduals at any time may have been the condition, of existence, if such conditions were, nevertheless, those most advantageous to future generation, of their kind. Natural Selection must have discriminated in favour Of the form of life amongst which they prevailed. The individuals may have had their struggle bur- dened, their interests sacrificed, the content of theii nves curtailed by length and breadth; and yet that form must have come down to us as a winning type, having gradually pushed aside and survived all rivals which were not equipped to this end; and this not- withstanding any other advantage whatever that iu competitors may have possessed. Once we have grasped the general application of tne pnnciple here discussed, its importance through- out the entire range of the evolutionary process will be evident. Once we come to regard Natural Selec- u^} controlling and dominating agency behind au the developments in progress throughout life, there can be no doubt as to the significance of the position towards which modem biology has advanced. The centre of gravity in the evolutionary conception can no longer be regarded as being in the present We can no longer with the early evolutionists regard only the effects produced by Natural Selection on the in- dividual engaged in a struggle for existence waged simply with those other individuals around it "with which it comes into competition for food or residence or from which it has to escape, or on which it preys." » From the very nature of the principle of Natural Se- lection we see that it must produce its most eflficient results where it acts through the largest numbers. ' Origin of Sficia, chap. iiL ■ ntojECTED tmoBxar g. The interesti o* the existing individual., and of the pre«;nt time, as we now see them, are of importance only ,n so far as they are included in the interests of this unseen majority in the future. In the development with which we have been con- cemed, it is necessary to consider results which appear to us to be successive, and separated by vast intervals of time, as being in actual efifect as thoueh they had been simultaneous. Keeping this fact in mwd. It will be seen from the foregoing that we must regard the evolutionary process in life as proceed- ing under the domination of a cause which we may here and m future designate as the principle of Pn. J«Ud Efficiency. The winning types of life which have come down from the beginning are those which have held their places under the operation of this pnnaple. The types in the present around us to which the future belongs are those which will hold It under the operation of this principle. When the future arrives it will be the forms equipped to the b«it effert with the qualities through which this principle found expression which will have survived to represent it. If it were po.«ble to construct the saentific formula of life for any existing form des- tined, heres vtventis, to maintain its place in the future, the interests of the existing individuals would be found to have no place in it, except in so far as they were mcluded in the interests of the majority which IS in the future. The condition under which development has pro- ceeded in hfe throughout measureless epochs of time Aas been, in short, a ccuditien in which the shadow of the future has contmually rested iqion the present. h«: * wssmuf avniBAiioir continued. In the come of thU proceMwTmu^ conrider that it h« never been th^XTof S mfimte«m., number of individuals at wVSe elt p^^l^^^tKol^^-s^Xr';^^^^ ThU is tlie lesson, for the social sciences, of »k* modem development in bioloT^olTvrg^p*,* dmary revolution which the evolutionanr hyS^ fa eventuaUy destined to •ccomplishTfte'I^^.S de^mg with the principles of hL«. «,dL ft^ « the p^cpie here di«:ussed that we un^btelj s5^r-t;i:;:?r.to^nrB':t^a^^ cple whfch we have beenTso far. rep^g".t* J^ onty .n the lower stage, of «. a^xnSTSl^ ;^„r?'~'*^°r'" *•» *« begin to C«^ •tand how large a place on the stage of the world "ufof •rtn,** '^'^ '^"' Ph^ome^aSS outof thecontmued predominance of this rindpfe It u as we come slowly into view of a reasoni« a«h.re reaching his full development onl^TS d.t.on. of socul onler in which the demJd. m^ by the future upon the individual and the Dies^t SsTe::l"~~J!^ *" ««- ever'Zretd^S wristent and exactmg; a reasoaing creature, withal, nojKTKD onciiNcir ^ CHAPTER HI "■ '0«TIO» ,N MOD«W THOUGHT the modem condS of J,^ '" *'''^ '«•' chapter. features of unusual interest wH "*' P"^* chapter how the movemem i^ ' """ ^ "«» biological science "SSy "rEr 1" '*''"* considered to reLveS«. .''""' """'* ""^ ^ effect of thepeZtbn of th' '°* '"' ''°"^'' '»>* ".tounderstSdKl p^WoJ""!;"^'';' '° ''"''« tion between the intlrSs Zh •"" °' * """'^"^ of .any P-gressive ^m ^Vlt'^LTtlo" ''^T sr2ts:tdti'r^^'-"-^^^^^^^ '•.e p-n7ri;"„^nn:?::j-3;;-j^ch^ and m which it is nev^r tk- ^^ ""^ ^"'""^ future. Which il of r^tpo'^S' 'w l,""^ "^' how in this conflict it ;.,.*• W« have seen among Which retLLsoftee':-'"™' °' ^'^^ have been continualHiJrdtatTto^^ interest of their kind ,„ tu r *° *•** K^^atw •'own to us JLX Ty^'^lZ:^ '''' ''"^'^ listing fonn destinfd T iSsSv „T* •'^'I'y place in the rivalrv of »„• " '''^^*"""y maintain iu nvajiy of existence, the conditions at rrf 44.:- «-- ™- 'Oerrx«, « MOOEK. BOUGHT «, trolled .t J:^Xt nX"»i.*f '^"'"^ '''"' ^^^ present indiWduairbu't bv ir*^/"'*'"'' «' the yet in the future. ^ """* ''^ ">« generation, Ai the mind with n.: . . » concentrated n!C o,^ he't:""'".''^''^ '^"'e it '"tionanr proce.. i* human M« "'""*" °' ">« «-<>• fcularly on the «pcct. of tha S ""' """^ ^■ I«»ented i„ the cVmple, so^l'^nr" " ""^ •" modern world, we b^ome ?It^ Phenomena of the ««»rding one of thrmlt "?' "•«' '^^ »« Which the histo.^ Of C^;:?/^": -P^ctacle. " we recoffni««. fi... , "^ Presents. -•ety thel^ra.2 'mZtl!:'"" "' " »""»» •ider that the law which .Ik ' ^^'^^°'^. we con- f«>m the begi„ninr-fh« iJrwV t*'' *" "'""'«''» « the procMs of pLJ^l ^^'"^ " ^'"T Pomt of condition, if SKa T"'*"'^ "" P'«^'ence «nd the individual w«e 1"^*''"' "^ «"« P«sent '-tore «.d the un"^"^^'"*'''^,*" '•>«- of the Pe»ded in human «HnetT if ZZ '""^ *^*° «"- con«der that the.e condiMon, "!!;'• J* """' «'her operative, and thi, law tS 1' "^ '"°'"« directly i« human society than ^^1 Z' ^.'"""^ '■"P«"'«ve «fe;-then there can .!! f"""" '" '*"= histo^r of of the position which co5r. '""" *" '" '"^^ "^^ure the science of soci ty. It rr* "' '"« threshold of trolling fact to which we m«tdi*'"" *'"' '''« ~°- Ple of the «aence of Zc7yt k T' ^^^ P""«='- the hi.to.yof the dXt~ '^i'" f« /-f resort. Hfflcnt ot the principles by /o ynsnm cmusjotoit l^MA^. ^ b«i«K effected the .uborimtion of the individual to • proccM. the Iw^ meaning of which U alwayi in the future. ^^* " .t.^ '.»>• e^j««oni.t looki the concIu.ion he>« ing begin, to be visible to him. For, it murt h^^ St^ehV/'^^ir '""«'" '"'*• view- j:;r; that the hirtoiyof human development i. to be re! garded a. the hi.tonr of the development of tte cot ception^ by whi- h the tatere.t. of the pre«nt^ U»ng .ubordinated to thoee of a proceM^rmeat S*Lf>r ,"" '• ^"^^"^ ^"'^'^ «>« «*rt''e.t limit, of political con«don.neM-that we have the ultimate iTmS'll^'i"' '^' philo«,phy of history U S It n>u.t be primanly along the line of the operrtion SlSonll"?' °' ^°^^'^'' ^®^*"^ that Natural Sdection i. discnmmating between the living, the dying, and the dead in human .odety. All t^e ph^ ^^^ ^ '^^ development mu.t, therefore^ whether we be con^iou. of the fact or noti .tand to •ubordmate relation.hip to it For he? m d.2 where, we Me that to the formula of existence for My type of «Hnal order destined to maintato if place .n the future, the interest, of all the visible worM arem.d us can have no place, except in so far a. they are mcluded to the larger toterest, of a future to which they are entirely subordinate Jl" "'"■jl-'^th these facts to mind, we turn now thectTM?"."* "^^^ "^"-^ '""^^'^ -ith the current We of our civilisation, and to the system Z^'^^ P»»lo.ophy from which those theories pro- IT' ^ r ^"^ *" ■**"«* something of the nature of the tetcrval which is likely to separate «« THB POSmoif IN UOOBKN THOUOBT Jt the epoch In the history of Weitem thought through which we have Uved from the period of change upon, which we are entering. ^ As we proceed to spread before us, one after •nother, the maps of the systems of so -al and politi- Ml theory constructed by most of the current schools of thought, it may be observed that they present a study of extraordinary interest. As we regard theso systems attentively and notice the points of en veigence and difference, and the ultimate relation of each to that central problem which they all discuss we may obsenre, after a Ume, how that through nearly •U of them there runs one leading idea. In whatever these systems of theory may differ, they nearly all resemble each other in one fact. They are engaged, we may distinguish, in stating the relations to each other of what is always the group of individuals com- pised within the limits of political consciousness. Everywhere we encounter the same feature, namely, the theory of States and peoples, on the one hand, and of the classes, parties, and individuals comprising them, on the other, considered in all that pertains to the evolution of society, as moved and governed by one motive, namely, to serve their own ends according to their lights in the present time. If we confine our attention at the outset to that modem movement of thought in which the endeavour has been made to formulate the principles behind the phenomena of Western democracy, we have this feature presented in a striking light. What we see at once is that nearly all the current theories of de- mocracy resemble each other in one respect. The Idea of the nature of the modem stote, the concep- M .* Mil ^ WESTBRN CmuSAnON namely, the concepJnoT^SvT '""^ "^^ ^'^ the limit. encWthe ^r^?~fP™'^*'t''in individual. The o"u'tl<^k j^'^.J ,° /.^^ «"ti„. phJosophy of society to whicf i J, ! '*'"'"**'' ha« given rise closes down thereforr^T '''""'="«=>' defined line, namely t^'ll'u' "'""^ » ^«riy bounding the inSts i.!f '''' "u"''' ''^^ ^""^^ political consci^a::;'' ""^''"^^^ ''■""" »« limit, of dearest conWcS 2th S thT"',*"' ''"' '"'^ «et out, is that in evenrCtL „, "V""^'* ""■« tined to maintain its pZeZZ i '"'"''. "''^"' '^^ ther* must exist a dSe^tJj I ^' "'*^" ''°''''' completely sepaiatinTl^ • , "** "* demareation considered'asro^^L„T:Sst°' "?V:''»'^" from those of "Sodetv"in '"*^ individuals, sidered as an agSe oT C? °f ''"'"*'°-' ~-- fare these existi5t^i^,''r'f '-^ 7''°- -«'- "lightest interest. Nay m^e thrfiT^'^.""' '''« principle of the continn J^ ^' ^"" *"d centnd tem of «x:ial order to tS T""'! "' ""•=•• « '^^ of necessity ^ tL it"' °' *^«"««on, murt welfare of "^aSety^ in th' ~»'"''«'n« *» the onerous it maTS to e, S "^•'^ »en.e-however overrule conduct comnbutiL ?^'' '°"*'''' «nd of the "State" in rS'sensfVhe '''•'. '^^'^'^ -«! progress must, in shortTthe'sSenr of ^i « ™e PosmoK m modern bought 73 Sr£^V.^^*^JL^^^^^^ *» effected, over and above e^mh.-^'^, ''°^ **"^er must be. NeverthelcS^when l^ ""^'"i °* subordination, theoorof deS:«i;",3Tt h^W '° '*="■"""« ^''e inteliectual movemTnrith SendTr^^' '" *'«' tions of the French o , .e**ends from concep. eighteenth cen^r;i;rt?tt" " *"•' -'^ "' '"^ •ocial democracy in gZ, "'"*=""*»' f°™ulas of mrkable sSe w^ hTve^' '••" "''"'■*' °^ '"e re- toor cannofStirt^lcen '" ^7 '"Western his- tovolved in the theo^ X we 1 r*'"?' \ ''^ expressed in a sin.rl. „ . ^ "^ "early always the "State" efficS ""*• '' " "^^ '''eoryr of •ociety tend to become one Ind th. . * '"T** *" rulingfactorin history's therrforlLT' """ ""' tor; and that the t Jenc/oftl «2er^'^°T' '"*=■ r»s is, therefore, to r.ndZ, as kweS rte 2 ""'^l the moralist and of the legi'slatoj S.S """"' "' tofhii'LirtrSyt r^^sH "^^*^"^'^"'^ only to look back over the hist^^?u'"'' ""^ ""^ thought which h« ^ ""^ "^ "'e phase of the femoT^tic movemlf ' *°J''""'^ ''*^" "'"» r:^-^:^3v:o::^— r-£ ^^.sr;f-?s;.ist;s^- u WKTERN CIVILISATIQN i i ca*?. it^U IS unm>stakable. Th. conception of thelS^ membere. :s the pivot upon which every princijl* of pohhcal and social science i, mad7 tT ^™' "Sc«.ety " i,, a, we see, conceited from the ou^ of the movement as consisting of the eristinrcki rem. organised toward. their\wn bS^^^ ^l ".good of society" and the interests of the existW c. bzens a« everywhere regarded as identS^f a^enconvertible terms. And the content ^the ^lfa« of soaety is always conceived and spoken '? as rf ,t was of necessity included in the view which these ctizens took of their own interests tu^T thi'p'*'"! 1*?"^' ''''"'"«''°»* ^' the lite,., tnre of the Revolution, we see the develooment^ process in Western history presented «Tp^c^s ta which the "will of the sovereign Deonle" f^I- to progressively realise itself, sl^p^f the^tSf of the people as organised in the St/te. In tLe S' of Rousseau as in the later conceptions of Ma^'S the theory of the interests of the people colSlv s:s "" T:frj'^' ~"'*^'« '^-^-' to^H ^' V I * *''*"y °^ '""^^ development »• ral»B hclo, „ j.„„ ^^^ Am to ,b. « THE POSITION m MODEKT THOUGHT 7J th«,|y of conduct which we sc« taking shape side by side with this view, the .cience of mcrali^. just « we encounter it later in the theories of Jame. MilP and m the conceptions of current social de- mocracy in Germany, becomes, in consequence, simply the science of the interests of the individuals in the welUnlered State. "La science de la morale," i„ the words of Helvitius, "n'est autre chose que la science m«me de la legislation." » As we follow the history of this self^entred move- ment m Western thought, as it tends to more and more closely associate itself with the modem theory uJT^"^' '' '! *" "*"" "I^*"^'' ''Wch contiZ ues to be presented to view. The science of human society must be, as the evolutionist sees it, the science of the principles through which the whole visible world around us is being subordinated to the ends of a process lu which the interests of the individual and of the present alike form a scarcely perceptible link. Yet nowhere m the movement before us, as we watch It gradually expanding now into the main stream of Western thought, is there to be discovered any statement whatever of the piinciples of society as conceived in such a sense. In England the history of the great intellectual movement, m v,hich the principles of modem de- mocracy have Uen developed into something like the form in which they have come down to the current w!v"°"^,"f^'" "^'"^ *° ^"""^ '«£"'' ^"l" Adam Smiths IVeaM of Nation,. As the evolutionist .uthor. .^, fE,prU, a .7, C H. HdvitiL ■I' ft WESTERN CIVILISATIOW 0^,, takes hi. way through this work at the present dav •!' '»7J'!« and purpose ^ clearlyT^S tinguisbed by him. The conceptions of th. boot represent, m reality, as Mr. Leslie Stepher ^ rt. the revolt of men who were at the time building up fm^l 'Tif* '^u*" '*^"»' '''« fetters hitherto "nposed on them by traditional legislation. We have before us. as it were, the characteristic protest rf the mterests m the present against the rule of the past. Yet we see the principles of the purely business State, a. therein set forth. beginaingS th«po.nt forward, to be received in EnglL by tige and authonty. as if they constituted the whole science of society. Under the influence of Bentham Austin James Mill. Malthus. Ricanlo. Grote, a^d John Stuart Mill, we see Adam Smith's ideas b^ng 1 !^ 'ocwl philosophy more and more closely Identifying itself with the theory of modem Z «ocn«:y. Thn.ugh every part of this syste^^het runs, we see. the influence of a single dominant conception, namely, that the "State » and "50"^?" of the State is the science of human evolution SfiL^.T""^"" development in Western hutory finds all its stages clearly marked before him , the literature of English thought during the nine- eenth century. As we take down the volumes of Bentham, whose influence in England in the middle • nt English UHlUariam, vol. i. p. 307. » THE POSmON m MODERN THODGHT 7;, de«»dM of that century pervaded the entire domain of political heory. and to a considerable extent tS! le'Sn r"' ''t ^.'''^<='«™«<= feature Uth have been here emphasised meet us at every step The conception that the theory of the St«e7m absolute. That well^rdered conduct in the Individ- ual ,s a mere matter of "felicific calculus," and that the ends of human morality are synonymo« ^th the are the ideas which meet us at every turn "The Turn 0/ th *''. ~"""""''^ •"•" ^y" BentSm, "The deTvTto hLTJ' *"'"'* °* '•'' '"*««'" of so- ciety IS to him the science of the interest of th« S^h"er7'°" '^ '^' »""-'• himlnt Stie That there was any principle of antagonism between aUsuch mterests and the interests of societyTZ ^et?t t°eL fTK"''*^*"^ •*^'«' •» '«'«-" "o ^ o ^hl^H / * ^"'^"'■"ation of these inter- eats to the ends of a process the meaninR of which «Urdy transcended them, there is not thf £'2 S- .° "** f ""^' "^y "'«>'y whatever ff the subordination of "interest" to "duty" se«»L f! Be^ham not only meaningless but alrd.'Xl'; m his opinion, "to interest duty must and wil be made subservient."' For where wk sideiwl in tt,-; u J *^ "0'° ''ere con- tir?,. "?K °^ ^'"'^ •' ^ Bentham's asser- tion that the sacrifice of interest to duty is neither (al;^d4"irt:,*p.t '"'"'^ "'''"' "^ ^'^*'- 7« WESTERN aVIUSATIQN auK. practicable nor so much a. derirable; that it cannot m fact have place; and that if it could, the happines. rf mankind would not be promoted by it " » To Sh "T' '°,?^°'*' '•'' •'l^t'fi^tion of social utility w^th the self-mterest of the individual had become the fundafflental principle of the science of society To use h.s own words: "If eve^r man. acting cor- rectly for h.s own interest, obtained the maximum of obtainable happmess, mankind would reach the mil- lennium of accessible bliss ; and the end of morality — the general happiness — be accomplished " « »!, u^t ^^'^^ "•" ~"«P«ons of this school of thought being gradually developed in England in the wntings of James Mill and others ;• as we see Adam Smiths doctnne of the individual following his own interests, and thereby unintentionally attaining the highMt social good, becoming the basis of a selLon- tamed theory of utilitarian morality ; as we see the complete circle of ideas moving at last, in the system of social phJosophy of John Stuart Mill, towards the fuU sovereignty of an accepted theory of modem so- ciety : the altogether remarkable nature of the spec- tacle we are regarding cannot faU to deeply impr«s the mind. No system of opinion in recent tim« in England has so profoundly influenced the intellectual centres of Liberalism as that of the school of thought which culminates in the writings of John Stuart Mai. » DecnM^, mpra. "Op.Ht.p ii ff„ "^ c. ,L „d c. ,. The origin of n,o«lity in utUity, retiri^ m THE POSITION IN MODERN THOUGHT 79 No theory of society has been, in its time, so gen- erally accepted in English thought as a presentation rt the modern democratic position. Mill's system of idea., as a consistent whole, has been a leading cause which has determined, down even to the present day in England, the attitude on tocal questions of nearly all the representatives of the older Liberalism « Yet as the evolutionist follows the ideas developed by J. S. Mill, their controlling meaning is unmistak- able. As we turn over the pages of his Systtm of Logic and of his essay On Liberty, as we read the chapter in the PrincipUs of Political Economy, "Of the stationary State," or follow him through the theory of conduct set forth in Utilitarianism, the ultimate meaning of it all is plainly before us. The funda. mental conception which rules aU Mill's ideas is we «ee, that the science of the "State" constitutes' the whole science of society. "Society," as Mill con- ceived It, is practicaUy comprised of the individuals «^ble at any particular moment of exercising the nghts of universal suffrage. The ideal of the high- est social good is continually presented to us as one and the same thing as that of the highest good of these individuals. The main duty of the individual, as Mill sees it, is, therefore, so to influence the tendencies of development and the provisions of government that this ideal should be reached in practice. The end of human effort, and the ideal in all theones of human conduct, is, in short, to bring about a state in which the conciliation between the Mlf-interest of the individual and of society as awhole tL J ^T*^'. 'fEc«umU,, by Alfred M«.hJl. toL L p. 65: iJm I So WEsmtN aviusATioir •hould be completely »tt«ineu ; and in which, thera. fore, to uie MUl's wordi, "laws and social arrange- ments should place the interests of every individual as nearly as possible in harmony with the interests of the whole."! As the evolutionist, with the concern n in hi* mind of human society as involved in ;:< v./eep of an antinomy, in which he sees aU the i-.iidencies of human development tending to be more and more directly governed by the meaning of a process in which the present is being subordinated to the future, rises from the study of Mill's writings, the super- ficiality of the whole system of ideas represented pro- foundly impresses his mind. It is, he sees, as if the world represented in the era in which we are living had never existed ; as if we wev transported back agaic into the theories of society of the ancient civiMsations, into the political conceptions of Plato and Aristotle. That such a system of ideas should really express the meaning of our civilisation, or of our social prog- ress as a whole, must be, he perceives, inherently impossible. For if the nature of the evolutionary process be not altogether misunderstood, if the prin- ciple of Projected Efficiency as applied to the evolu- tion of human society be not entirely without meaning, the phenomenon of social progress as represented in human history must, he sees, have a meaning which ^together transcends the content of these concep- tions. The process of development which our civ- ilisation represents muft be subject to laws more far-reaching than any which could be compressed within the narrow formulae of such a theory of society. » UtUHariamitm, by J. S. MUl, p. aj. m THE POSmON IN MODBW THOUGHT 8l The very eswnce of the process of orier represented to our Western worid must be that there is within it •ome oiiganic principle effecting the continued subor- dinatjon and sacrifice, not only of individuals and of parties, but of whole generations and of entire periods of time to the ends of a larger process of life. But neither in the philosophy of human history as » whole, nor in the theory of W, Mem progress in particular, as presented in the writings of the school of thought here seeking to give us a theory of the pnnciples of modem democracy, is any such concep- tion of development to be distinguished. Mill's theory of social progress is always, as we see it, •imply a theory of progress towanls a fixed state m which a conciliation between the self-interest of the individual in the present and the interest of society IS to be completed. His theory of human condurt and ethics is, therefore, a theory of a future social condition so ordered that virtue is to be a matter simply of pursuing self-interest in an enlightened manner, and vice, in Bentham's terms, a kind of false moral arithmetic, a mere "miscalculation of chances in estimating the value of pleasures and pains " i In the region of ethics, as in the domain of political philosophy, the ideal with which Mill sought to asso- oate the principles of Westem Liberalism is, we see simply a fixed condition of society in which, to use Bentham s terms, there would be given to the social nothing less and nothing more than the meaning and the influence of the self-regarding motive." We see, in short, everywhere the principles of the utilitarian State conceived as if they embraced the * DtoMtdegy, toI. L p. 131. • Ibid, p 33. 8s WESTERN CIVIUSATION auM, 1:1 ■ ;l' whole theory of «Kiety in proce.. of evolution.* nothing can be more remarkable than the abiolute unconsciousnes. displayed by Mill of the profound difference -affecting, a. we now .ee. every principle of socud saence- which exist, between the "SUte." considered as a piece of social mechanism directed to and "Society" considered as a living organism, and undergoing, under the influence of Natural Selection a vast process of slow development in which all the interests of the existing individuals are lost sight of in wider issues. A discussion like that in book iv of the Pnnci^Us 6f Political EcoHomy-in which Mill object, to the trampling, crushing, and elbowing of the modem industrial world because of their unpleas- antness to the individual; in which the stationary Mcia^ state' is regarded as desirable and normal; in wh ch the hmitation of population by prudential restrmnts, dictated by the "enlightened selfishness" of the individual, is set up as a social ideal— already belongs simply to the literature of a pre-scientific c^ch when men possessed as yet no real insight into the character of the natural forces at work in the evolution of society. Remarkable in every particular must appear to the mmd of the evolutionist the position wliich has just been descnbed. Yet we cannot fuHy understand how completely the tendencies of Western thought have been controlled down into the period in which we are living, by the conceptions from which it arose, »CompKe Mr. Frederic HarriMi,', rennrk. in thii rein«t ™ 1.1. «ticle on MiU in ,h. Mmt«nA Cntur^., No. ,3^ **" " ^ Ch. Tl. bic iv, Primipks <,/ Political Econcm,, by J. S. Mil A.dl m THE POSmON W MODERN THOUGHT «3 unta we proceed further to extend our view .nd oTe„;«S'T,?/'* """ °* ''^ which the'Xt If we looic clowly at the idea of social prosre.^ which has held the mind of o-ir We«e™ S^u throughout the nineteenth centuryjtsmirchrr. tenstic may r^dily be distinguiaTid." ^^1- the leading movement, in thought we may .ee that the pnnciple. of our aocial progres. h^ve bin presented as being, for the most Srt thole of^ .toggle between the present and 'Tc' jLt The heory of social development which we «couJter n Western thought and politics during 271^^ teenth century is. therefore, a theory afcordlngtt wh.ch existrng interests are considered a^ i„! out from under the control of the past Z^H organ.sat.on of «K:iety in which the h^teresrsrf t^ It » thw theonr of the ascendency of ThV p^^«,"; ielat.ons of the present to the future have no place --that .s represented in English thought In the ZTT ."'u'^ '"*"''' ^'"^ Hume and Adim Sm.th to John Stuart Mill. It is the distinctiv" !entL ,n ^'^?l""°"' "hich continues to be repre- sented m a multitude of forms in current French ts""£rj "''^.'" °- °^ ''« phases LL"d Its most characteristic expression in the current conceptions of social democracy i„ Germany. Now when w.th this fact in mind we turn in a different d.rection and follow that development in current thought which is presented to uHor t^e f ii^ •""•ocow nsowTioN HIT oun (ANSI ond ISO TEST CHADT No. 2) A -APPLIED IM/ «'<« Darwinian period of know^t^H ""* •"""•"y to the pre- Spencer to SLl with fte Da^': .*" T *■«" t™""'' '"' Mr. fundamental .pplfcl™ ,^Zt "-r "" "" '" '"" "" »"« work,totheco^n.i„„" ^fctTth^T"*; ^"' P"* °' "^ «""« A. regard. Hualey, an in^eT^ng rd^^rn^rrv™" """'"• "n>e direction has recentiv eo™ T^!! ^ **""■« '■> 'he memoir.. It i,, aa^^^ "™ f^""*" » the publication of hi. in London in which the main ^. ™'n«»e at the Royal Inititution hypotheai. wa. aft J^:.r.:C Z" T\ ""' °"^""" t«.t«l a. inherenUr .b.urd H«^.r;,I^ ' ""'^ "P'^' "«' ««d . c.« of bird., or of birt «S~ '^ ^ ■'* " '^°''<"" = " Re- or.gn>upof fo^[f°L.Tft^'^",?»»'« ""« •'■"1 "f «" echinu,, the first, th'TometrirreXS^^f het:l"''°r' ""■ ""°«°' •nd elegance of the third are™^ ^S, .^ ' ",' "" '*"™'' ^'*T -yoftheactionaof thJ^h^TorC^r Vr""' *" ""^P"f»™ «r.«fiU rather thui ifX^r7.r!,, •'*""'" '*'»«'"^'"«'i conceivable that ^e W.^^ v^oVT' ^' "" «° *«0«^. - « uariDomou. variation of a common phui which we t} 86 WESTERN OVIUSATION II I I' There can be no doubt in the mind of the student as to this fact. As we follow Mr. Spencer through the successive stages of bis theory of social develop- ment, we see bow be conceives human progress to be controlled in all its features by one fact, namely, t\t relation of the past to the present in a struggle in which the interests in the present are becoming the ascendant factor in our social evolution. Of that deeper conception of human progress as an integrat- ing social process, of which all the principles are in the last resort controlled by the fact that the present is in reality not so much related to the past as pass- ing out under the control of the future, there is to be distinguished no real perception in Mr. Spencer's writings. find eroTwhere in Nature senrct tny otiUtuiin pnipoie? tlut the In- nmnenble nrietiet of antelopes, of (rogi, of clupeoid fiihet, of beedet and bivalve moUnilo, of polyioa, of actinozoa, and hydrozoa, are adapu- tiona to ai many diSerent kinda of life, and coniequently varying phyii- ological neceintiea ? Sach a auppoaition in regard to the three laat, at any rate, would be abanrd. ... If we turn to the vegeUble world we find it one vaat illuitration of the lame truth. Who haa ever dreamed of finding an utilitarian purpose in the forms and coloura of flowers, in the sculpture of poUen-grains, in the varied figures of the frond of the ferns? What ' purpose ' is served by the strange numerical relations of the parts of plants, the threes and five* of monocotyledona and dicoty- ledons?" (r** StinUific Mtmriri cf T. U. Huxlty, vol. L p. 311.) This passage is very remarkable, aa showing how absolutely foreign to Huxley's mind at this period — he had already established his reputa- tion—was the very principle which waa about to become the central concepUon of the Darwinian hypothesis. It tends to explain in some measure that fact of iluiley's subsequent faUure to apply the evolution- ary hypothesis with ar/ measure of sncceia in the explanation of the phenomena of human society, which waa in evidence in his Romanes Lecture in 1893, in the conception therein discussed of tiie cosmic pro- cess wrn» the ethical process (ct Evbttim and SHUa, by T. H. Huxley), in THE POSITION IN MODERN THOUGHT 87 We encounter the expression of this fact every- where from the outset. If we take up the advance to the study of the science of society in Mr. Spencer's writings with the Principles of Psychology, the appli- cation of the conception to which we are there carried forward is, we see, merely the application of the old- world conception of Condorcet, Cousin, and Quinet, according to which the theory of sociological princi- ples is to be deduced from the introspective study of the individual mind. Of that transforming truth to which all the principles of psychology will be seen to be related in the future, namely, that the study of the in- dividual mind must be itself approached from the stand- point of sociological principles ; and that the content of the human mind is, therefore, ultimately governed by its relations to a sociological process, the control- ling meaning of which is not in the past, but in the future, there is no discernment visible in Mr. Spen- cer's theories. We see how the significance of the principle under- lying this fact meets us at every point in Mr. Spencer's theories. For instance, to have once grasped the na- ture of the position to which the biological sciences have advanced in our time, in bringing us to see tue process of human development as a history of the pro- gressive subordination of the present and the individ- ual to the future and the infinite, is to perceive that the history of human evolution must present itself to science in the future as being primarily the history of the evolution in the human mind of the sanction for sacrifice. But as we see Mr. Spencer struggling with the stupendous class of phenomena to which this principle has already given rise in the human mind. 88 WESTERN CIVILISATION l! ■nd seeking to associate its meaning simply with the past history of the race, we have in sight a noteworthy spectacle. His explanation of the idea of sacrifice that projects itself with increasing insistence through all the creeds of humanity, becomes, accordingly, little more than a suggestion that it is to be accounted for as a SMrvtva/ from cannibal ancestors who delighted in witnessing torturx:s.« The extraordinary triviality and superficiality of the conception underlying such a theory is immediately oVvious to any mind which has once caught sight of the meaning of the evolutionary process in human society as we are now beginninK to understand it. Yet we see that Mr Spencer's conclu- sion here is but the expression of the fundamental Idea which runs through all his system of theory. It IS but the same conception of the relations of the present merely to the past that we have in his theory of the origin of religions from ancestor worship and a belief m ghosts." It is still the same conception which runs through his theory of Ecclesiastical Insti- tatums, in which all the comparatively insignificant mfluences which he attributes to this class of phe- nomena, are, so far as they have any scientific mean- ing at all. made to revolve round one principle, namely, their mfluence in tending to establish the authority of Che past over the present.' Their relation to that deeper pnnciple of human evolution, the subordination of the present to the future, does not come within the purview of Mr. Spencer's mind. But it is as we watch Mr. Spencer developing his pnnciples into a theory of human society as we see it > ZW, <,fmu,, ch.p. TUi. t prinHfU, cfS«i<,lcg,, || (k>.„o. m THE POSITION m MODERN THOUGHT •round u. in the modern world, that we realise to the features we have been considering, corresponds to thl LIT/ *•"= 'hcory of the emancipation of the pn^sent from the past that we have always in view The charactenstic principle of the social processTn recent Western history, as Mr. Spencer enundat« t « pn^tically the .am, as the M^ls co eT-d , J be Our socml evolution, that is to say, is regarded ^"er'an'S ^'^ ^^^ '~ ^j progress towards a social state in which the asce^ dency of the present in the evolutionary processTt' i/takertr"'?-- ^' "-'= ■'"=^' to-Xwhi h it IS taken tha. political effort should be directed is mtd. TV'^vr" "* J- S- Mill held Se the mind, of hnghsh Liberalism in the middle decades of the mneteenth centur,, namely, a fixed socS.ttl idlS 1 • '''™"''' '•"" " '«" be«"e one and ^:plir «- ''^ '"« -P'ete ascendency'^ »^1?,r ^""T ^'- ^P""^*'- "trough the /'„W,>/„ c/£t*u:s we have all the culminating phases of Ih^ S't t? 'V'^"*- ^" •"» vie'wXS wciety, as in his theory of conduct, we see Mr t^S^ftt ''* °" ^^^"'^'^ Encycl^pir*?:- templataig the progress of the world to,^ds aii id^ ■Cf. Princifit, ofEAia. %\ 48.55. I* 90 WESTERN aVIUSATION our, where, to uie his own words, he beholds a "concilia- tion taking place between the interest of each citizen and the interests of citizens at large — tending ever towards a state in which the two become merged into one, and in which the feelings answering to them respectively fall into complete concord."* Like John Stuart Mill, that is to say, he is regarding our social progress as progress towards a future social state in which the interests of every individual shall be at last completely harmonised with the interests of the whole.* Like Bentham he is, in reality, in this aspect carrying the science of society back to the point at which it left the hand of the Greek theorist, where the science of "the associated state" and the science of the interests of the indi- viduals comprising it were considered to be one and the same. In the later part of his career Mr. Spencer has been anxious to refute the charge that his principles gave support to the theories of society which find expression in German social democracy. Yet in this respect his critics have been quite consistent. For, as in the case of Mill, we see that he really has in view, like the Marxian socialists, a state of society in which the sphere of law, of morality, and of economic action are necessarily coincident and coextensive, and in which, in consequence, just as Marx imagined, the requirements of the existing State must, in the end, overrun every domain of human activity. Mr. Spencer's work represents, in other words, the endeavour to represent our social evolution in terms » Prinaplts c/EAia, ( 93; tee >Iio :| 41-55. * UlUUarimtitm, p. 35. m THE POSITION IN MODERN THOUOKT 91 rf the intereits of the indivldualf comprised within the limits of political consciousness. Of the pn- found antagonism involved between the principles govemmg the life and welfare of all the individuals included in these limits, and those governing the life •nd welfare of the race in process of evolution ; and 0- the nature of the phenomena accompanying a resulting process of stress and subordination infinite in Its reach, there is no conception in his writings » Deeply impressed as the mind may be by the position here disclosed, we must carry our scrutiny yet farther before the position, towards which we have travelled in Western thought, is fully realised. It will probably have occurred to many who have followed the argument here developed, that however representative in character, however wide in influence tei.t^^.Ti' "" "T" "T '" "^ *^P'« •' «'• Sp^c* who 21Z^ Srnth^fc PhUo.ophy, fa, which tt i. .ckoowLdged 0^ fte indMdul. where the two com. into conflict W Data ,/Zi„ «c^, K ""'°' ""d i» mi«I „, ,», eonceptic; of th. mdng the two cl««. „f i«,„.«^ q. th. contr-r. MrSp;...,!^^ .^d„did„bcriwith tho«of «ci.ty (ct Data ofEAu,, ch.p.™i). UH*e™«l. there i. ,0 be found in the Synthetic PhUo«phy \o d «pHon of the rel n.e«.ing of th. ch» of pheaomen. which i. «- »»pM.ying ta h«n»n hiito^r thi. progrciye .nbordinetion of th. tadiWdua «rf the pr.«nt to the end. of . proc«, th. m«ni., of Which ii, of WKOBty, .Iwajft proj«t«l beyond th. limits of pdWcd ,^"*^ •• WESTERN CIVILI8ATI0K o^_ the views and opinioni hitherto discussed thi!v H« not mclude the whole outlook in mXn'thoTrtt It ».y be ssid that the conception of Se «clnde„S of the preMnt in the social process which we^^ here expressing itself through th ■ S. If T. English Utilitarians down to Mr. Spenrer whLh i! ^pre^nted in the lite«ture of thrMTr^aTtovl which the writings of Professor Loria represwMn modem Italy; and which we encoume Kl " every phase m current French art. literature a^d ph.losophy;--does not characteristi a jTresent Se position to which Western thought hL'XnVed When, however, we turn now and carry our iew m yet another direction, the result, a^a^dl e« •triking in any particular. ' *" tho?,^L°^ '!lf '"°'" representative minds in recent thought m that region where we see the theoTof the principles of human conduct impinging o7the ft«o7 S/'^i development has been tKat"^! fessor Sidgwick. No recent writer has pcrcriv^ whTh T'^- ''I "*'"" "' *•»« ^^dinal TS Thch the m"' f'~--P''°« "f the modem tS Which the Manchester school in England develon^ *r ,V^I'""P'*« "' '"« Utilitari^s. namS S difficulty inherent in the fact that ther^ is resMen* Sti^teif ;rr \" "''''^' p-cipfe Vhirm ZZilLr r ^^\ '"°''"™ consciousness abso- lately ntolerant of the fundamental principles of a purely business conception of "society" inJ flUualEc,n,my, ™L iii. ^conom," u, th. -0«*««r, ^ m THE PO*nON IN UODBRN THOUGHT mind fa recent tinie^ fa re-,.ewi„^ the re,„lt, obtained in modem tl,ought-„ it ha. advan.^ i« the one hand, through the conception. he« deS^^ Ijnd on the other, through that movement S hM developed in Germany, Scotland, and England through Kant and Hegel-ha. .een Lre accuSeJ contradiction involved in all attempt, to rationally ttn^of'-VT'' "'r ■"'='" -"•«='-•-« the ionS" And n !^ """^ "wW-interct " in the individual^ And no modem .tudent of «K:ial phenomena ha. •mved by more deliberate and caution, .tep. at • position m which that question which underlie, the evolutionary position presented it.elf to him I the que. ion whether it wa. not. after all. impo.Tible 5o con truct a .cientific theory of ethic, w^^^hin .uch mits. and whether, therefore, in hi, own word^ we were not fa the last resort forced to boiTcw a fundamental and indispensable premiss" from cl* ception. which transcended them* -,Vwk''''*u ^^ ^"^'''^ *° *°"°'' P™t«'«or Sidg. tTfind tl? r """"^''' '" "''•^- '« "'^ht expert to find the application of .uch view, to the .cience o society or to a science of the social proce.s ht history we only find that we have once more re! IsThe si '"'T °^- '"" ^"'•^'^ State presented as the science of society. It is true that fa his ^W«/. ./ />,AV^, ,e find a few sentence t •TTie AW»«A ./EMc, by H«ry Sidgwick, p. 506. See J«, IW .ti^tr^ """"' '' """• ^'^ ^- ' -^^^^^ iiit II If 9i WESTERN aVILISATION cMAK which the view ii advanced that the welfare of the community may be interpreted to mean the welfare, not only of the human beinga who are actually living," but of those who are to live hereafter. But, after this, we encounter in a book of 633 pages nothing to show that Professor Sidgwick had attained to any conception of the relation of this fact to the science of politics as a whole.' or to any law or principle of government, or to any principle of social development. Yet, if the principle of Projected Effi. ciency be taken as applying to society, a fundamental fact of human evolution must be that the welfare of •odety in thu larger sense is not coincident with, and can never be made coincident with, that of any of the classes or parties or majorities with which we see governments to be concerned. The only aspect in which the meaning of our civilisation as a system of social order, destined to bold its place in the future, could be set forth in a really scientific light must, as we perceive, necessarily present us through- out Western hutory with the spectacle of these ruling classes or majorities moving and ordering the world in the endeavour to reach their own ends; and yet everywhere encountering the effect of a slow > £l«iumti ^Wltiti, bj Heair Sidgwick, pp. 34, jj. • We laight, for iMtuice. Utc expected Sidgwick to htre Men the meuungof ttepodUon which lie. behind th.t ch««:teri.tic tendency of n|cent EngliJ, thought noted by Sir Frederick PoUock .nd Profeu« Holtand (the eiprcMion, u we .hiUl Ke leter, of . deep-«.ted, thongh more or ka nnconKlooi, principle of onr uciil erolntion) which i« «comph.hu« the complete diBeientielion of the .ndjtial bruich of politicl Kience from the idence of elhict m 1: whole (cf. PoUock-i ^jMfy ,/ Ik. Stuma cfPoHtia, pp. 113-114, and Hollmnd'. Elmtmti VJirutnidfaa, chep. Hi.). "I THE POSITION IN MODERN THOUGHT 95 •ubordinating proceu of evolution ever con.i.tentlv ITnTl ""' "f* '™™ •"'"« attain" B^ we find no preientation in Sidgwick'. writing of Hwai'^titreri "'''^"""' ^''-•'- In modem Germany, when we reganl the hiatory of the movement which ha. come down from k2 through the Hegelian development, we have a atrik 6cJrTr °' "" «'""»* '"« P-vailinVtt dency. The two extreme and opposing phase, which cLZT"' """' "^ "id to have'reachS^t ™^ •«ve now one characteristic feature in tJ^ Z Ik *•"' ' »'«riali.tic interpretation of h" tOTT. the theonr of the existing collective State anj I matTlr'' "' ""^ '"*'"'*' °* •'• member. i.aJ hst^ t^ ;• L .'•"' "PP"*'"* interpretation of h^stoo^ to wh.ch the Hegelian development hj "med a ^,o„ of German thought, the mL'ng Be almost a. clowly aswciated with the purpose, and machmery of the existing State. In it w^^ t".^'S ^iJlHC'"""^''"" '"^ "^ -''- S St^. »v u^ * conception of the omnipotent EmnL ^•"'y. ^^- '°"«''' '" ^o^J"' in the thTI^l" '^"^"'^ ^""■°P'=- We have, therefor•^ that stnkmg spectacle in modem politics, namelj We of Germany of the theory of the omnipotence of w, 96 WESTERN CmuSATION „.. the State -with the resulting identification of the •aence of the political State with the «^eal of «K.ety in process of evolution. In the result, it way be said of modem Germany, as a recent writ« ^nT^.^' "'""'^' "'^^'' -'-""'SgThS mamfo^i divergencies, all the leading political parties are based on substantially the same idea of the omn.poten,e of the State. Here the ConserJat S and the Social Dem^t take the same ground whatever may be their differences in regard to the ways of the manifestation of authority by the State ^d the regulations as to the distribution of prop- When the mind is carried to the standpoint of the socialistic parties in Germany, who frankly adopt the theones of Mant. and wLo, therefore, openly accept the materiaHstic interpretation of hist^oTwe'^^^oC iZllT'V"^"'' °' ^*"*''^ '^^^^^ Mills i^ England have been carried at last to their fuU logical Wlication For here the ascendency of the prSnt and, therefore, of the economic factor, is no longw simply an implied principle in the historical process. tenS^n T "'"' "*'' "^""^ '='«' '° ^hich every tendency of current social progress is necessarih^ of m„r .r"!: ^" *"' '^^P*'*'' th« '^o phases hLdlTx V?'' -^P^^^ted by Man, on the one hand and by Nietzsche, on the other, appear as the complements of each other. The princij^s of Ma« represent, as it were, only the extreme sociaUstS expression of the views of which Nietzsche JyZ pSaion'T"' *''%«^'-«'»« individualUtic inter- pretation. For in each case the principle which is •B«n^W by William Clarlc., C«u^f„a^ ji^„^ ^o. 397 « IHE POSmON IN MODERN THOUGHT 97 resulting n^eTsL J m''"^" '°'''=«' '"«' ^^e ""B necessity, as Marx conceives i> fn, *i. cnt, and the elimination from society of every caJL ^timent principle, and belief whfch prIvZnt? t5 wrongest interest in the present from re^isW "ts^tf As the evolutionist looks back, ther^fo,^ overThc 98 WSTERN OVIUSATION hiitory of the clearly defined movement in modem thought, m which the endeavour has been more and more authoritatively made to interpret to us the phe- nomenon of our Western democracy, he sees that it IS justifiable to make in respect of it a deeply signifi- CMt assertion. It is that this movement — in all the phases in which it has contemplated the ascendency of tiis mterests of the present in the evolutionary process, and in which, therefore, we see it identifying the mterests of society with the interests of the indi- viduals comprised within the limits of political con- sciousness—has not carried the theory of society, in any scientific principle, a step beyond the position which It occupied twenty-three centuries ago in Greek thought It is the theory of the State alone which we again encounter in all the developments of the time. In modern thought, as we see it represented m this movement, the interest of the State h?s be- come again, just as in the Greek civilisation, the ulti- mate pnnciple in the science of society, the controlling end in the theory of human conduct. The State itself has become, to use the words of Paul Leroy-Beaulieu an "ttre myst^rieux dont tant de pr(5tendus sages prononcent le nom avec adoration, que tons les homines invoquent, que tous se disputent, et qui semble « *«=' place itfillsTtL 21 Of TheTu'° ."""^^ *'''' of some deeo-seat^ l^ ■ i "'" ""'^ '" ^^ue in the strt: 'oro?:h?c ?r """"""^ °* «'"^- to realise something 'rShe na urof'tr "* '"'^" nation of the ndivrald Tr^ '"= """^'''- rr::^ror-~C^^="- ^t-s-r?^'S^-"^^ ^-■rsiT~i^=S5 ^:^£S.^vrir3^HE£ 100 WESTERN CIVILISATION CHAP.m mMtenng conviction of the extreordinaiy incom- pletenets and insufficiency of all the conceptions of the science of society we have been hers consider, ing. The nature of the main position m thought, which underlies that attitude of doubt, of hesitation. «nd even of revolt, which the younger and rising minds m so many schools of thought present to the socwl philosophy of the past, begins to be revealed to us. It IS no question, we see, merely of faults, local or personal, in the systems of thought around us. We •re regarding no merely passing phase of temporary interest, but a position in thought which separates two epochs m the intellectual development of the world. For, as for a vast period of time the old phi- losophers constructed their systems of Ptolemaic cosmogony to centre in the observer and revolve round the little world upon which he stood: so. down mto the midst of the tiue in which we m Uving, we see the systems of social theory we have been considering similarly constructed to centi« in the observer, similarly conceived to revolve round the petty intei>..sta which the same individual saw comprised within the limits of his own political con- saousness. We have reached a crisis in thought where, to use words of Mr. Leslie Stephen, the scenery has at last become too wide for the drama, where, through the roof of the theatre in wnich our theonsts have unfolded these littie conceptions of human progress, we see the eternal stars shining in silent contempt of such petty imaginings.* CHAPTER IV THE PHWOHENON OF WESTERN LIBERALISM Kl . \"*'."* "' "•» P°"«°" defined in rte last chapter, the interest of the situation will i„ d! s made to carry the analy-U a stage further When .t « once realised that the development in Werter^ Miy. be expressed m any mere theory of the Statis. t^tro^l^T -'."T' '°™"'" ^ Which th £ T^tiJL "^^ ~"'P"«'' '^'»i„ the limit. «nf fa^~ 7"'°"'' "^ '='"''="^«'l " ">e domi. i»nt factor m human evolution; the mind turn. »stmc^vey to scrutinise the phenomenon oj WeTt Z ^ft. " "" "'"''''*• """ » " ^hat the m^i ing of the progressive movement which it repre^u has come to be interpreted to us in th. » • which we have thus foL it to te 1 forth in '" thought ? ^'' '" current Nothing can be more remarkable than the nosition to which modem Liberalism has been ZZZ duced m pmctice by the endeavour to presSiT ?«^ movement resting under all its forms on a theorToS existing interests in the State. The p^M^Zn tmd.ct.ons resulting from the attempt arfa^har actenstic feature of the time. The'most stiZg 101 * loa WESTERN OVnJSATIOK auK spectacle in modem histoiy, as we shall see in a subsequent chapter, is the position arising, not only in internal politics, but in international relations, from the endeavour to represent the meaning of the world-process, in the midst of which we are living, by a business theory of the State. Following the analy- sis in the preceding chapters we have only to read between the lines of Professor Ritchie's examination » of the formulas of "Natural Rights," which modem thought has essayed to put into the mouth of Demos, from the French Revolution onwards, to realise in what irretrievable ruin the theories which have ac- companied that attempt lie around us at the present time. In what, then, consists the ultimate claim of West- em Liberalism as a principle of progress ? It cannot represent simply the claim of the interests in the present to be the dominant factor in the evolutionary process, as we have seen that claim expressed in the conceptions of utilitarianism, and in the theories alike of Nietzsche and of Marx. Wo. can it be the claim of individualism. For how could the individual be greater than society ? Nor can it be the claim of the majority to rule. For to attempt to reduce the indi- viduals, comprised even within our own civilisation at the present day, to the rule of the majority, would be to attempt to put the world's progress back a thousand years. Nay, it would be undoubtedly to provoke from the advanced peoples, and even from many of the advocates of universal peace amongst them, a resistance as determined, as unhesitating, and ^ Natmral RigUt, bj David G. Ritchie. WECTERN UBBRALISlf 103 as bloody as any of which history could furnish rec- ord. Nor can it be the claim of Democracy as a form of , Tvemment. For we have only to reflect to see that peoples have lived, and still live, under Democ- racy as a form of government, while remaining sepa- rated by an immense interval from the spirit and the meaning of the civilisation represented by the ad- vanced peoples of the present day. Nor can it be, in the last resort, the claim of nationality. For one of the most curious spectacles of the modem world is that of mere tribal or local egoisms which have expressed themselves under the forms of nationality, claiming, in this respect alone, the rights and toler- ance of our civilisation. 1 he inherent contradiction is often painfully felt by the best-intentioned minds; it being dimly perceived that, according to existing theories of nationality, all that interval of progress which divides the life of the highest civUisation from that of the lowest social state would have to be con- demned, there being no single step in that interval, whereby a higher form of social life had replaced a lower form, which could be justified under current conceptions of the rights of nationalities. On what, therefore, in the last resort, rests the claim of Western Liberalism ? How has the move- ment towards Democracy, which it represents, come to be associated in history with interpretations which the evolutionist sees must be essentially superficial, and even utterly misrepresentative of the real mean- ing of the phenomenon we are regarding ? Now, if we endeavour to regard Western Liberal- ism as any other natural phenomenon, and, therefore, in so doing, endeavour to keep the mind entirely ;i^H IO« WESTERN cmusAnotr CKAA detached from the prejudice, and prepoweaaion. tha^ have uMvoidably become associa^'^r L modern thought, there will probably be litUe do„i^ or heaiution a. to the point'at wWch we m" .tt£ «?th wV'Ht'" *'' ""'^'"'•■" toward. De^l^" with which It IS aasociated. "«■•««./ For the origin of that movement we .hall have to go back beyond the period of the French RevoEl No one nowaday., „ys Borgeaud, attribute. Ihetht ory of the wcial contract to Rous.eau ' The R«t We"te™ tL t": \^ •""•^"' '" • movem^S Western thought which had become general, a prod- uct bom at a stage when that movement ha7;e^uS to use words of William Clarke, in "a gene«l EuS JT Ti: ""r '' '^ *^ thinkeroffhett" put of the eighteenth century— to Kanf TnJ Rousseau, to Franklin and TiS.t. L^ .2 Consemtive, a. Gibbon and Hunl^^^^dlch J oTtf fi^ch rV'/ ^-'y-«<='emthe<^ed shown .'^''?,?f "'"*«>».«« Professor Ritchie ha. ^wn m detail,, had been already formulated in « eariier development of Western thought w!lten!''n "^ ""^"/^ '•" "«'^«'»«»t « which Western Democracy takes its rise, we must go back to the revolution which we behold in proiesVS England more than a century earlier. '^ItThe " o^,"\-Tu'^' ""*'='' '""^ unloosening of the forces which have set in motion the modem world "^ WESTERN UBERAUSII tog "Although no luch inference could be dmim * manrfestoe. of modern Democracy' ^'"^ Now, If we concentrate attention on the revolution we^hfrr ".^"^'*"' •" *"» seventeenth c^^^i'l" we shaU have to note certain fact* of great inS SlT « M • I "^'"''"^ gave rise were undoubt- S^'wS^ h >r"'^ ""''• *"'■'*'>' '''«««»' from any Which had hitherto prevaUed in the world Th-„ wei., moreover, it may be observed, tah^^^t in^h« form in which they have since been included in i^ 3"? "' *'' ""^*™ progressive motUt T^fnr^r""*'^ "^^""'^ ^ °" Civilisation. sJ^t^Lin^"' "' '"™' '" Mr. Gardiner's C«. n^L^n/^^ of January, ,649,* and presented in the name of he army which had broken up the forces of the king in England, we find already outUned at thL •Bner. N0.8,. p. ^^"^^"""^ '/ '^ P«r,taH XnH,lut,on,bj S. R. Gu^ 106 WESTERN avmSAHQN aun i •tage the actual political principle, around which ince'Trhe" ""'""'"' ^ the'modS^rllt! «nce, m the main, centred. The doctrine of ^ Ijovere-gnty of the people; of .upre«:^^ ^ . W Lte^Te™'^"*^'" "^^"y eK fori .epa«s„°orjhrs;„l Sfe":/;r"; "^'-^ aocument. These are doctrines representing, for the most part, principle, different from any which Ld ofpolSd "f '"^^ •inceconrrelled the IS development of the modem world nri„o- i I '. Lrfro^mrn?^™^^^"^^-^^^^^^ Z^JtZ '^°'^:'^"=^ "-d hitherto prevailed in his- isi;; whthTus^^^^r ^vr^ -*-- -^ ^"^ the last analysis, pntiS^roLXLT^i; fr^L" the conceptions which had so profoundly 2e3 »ens mmds in the great religious revoLroaThS "" VESnut UBKRAIJSU h«d Jutt swept over the f«c -s of Europe Thev w^ unmLtiUcbly ih. result of these cS^iJJ.'Tr!! with them in the minds of the leader, of the political movement which was transforming society. ^ meTtr 7 T:^ '='°'*'^ ""* '«'«'"» of this move- tenstic of their standpoint. These men w-re « ^ed n the endeavour to establish wU tl^held to be the first principles of political society Yrt we have to remark upon the fact that the l2t th£ they had m mind was the utilitarian interests of .^ou Lr'N"" """" *"' "•"'*» »* PolS CO ! •aousness. Nay more, the veiy essence of their work lay. as we see. in the fact that they were ™ deavouring to project the ruling princip es7 ^j^T altogether beyond the meaning of those institS a«d causes which had. throughout the ist "eS^ them withm the meaning of the State ^ We cannot therefore, fail to notice the tremen- dous assumption which underlay everjr one Tthe pnnc.ples which these men were'propolding Th, most fundamental political doctrine rf modem dI rarm'eV'lt"''""' ^ °* '""^ ^'^ ^^^^^ ot all men. It ,s. m reality, around this doctrine mem In'^o '""'•?' *"'' ''™^^''^-'' P°»t-' niove! ment in our civilisation has centred for the last n the po, heal constitution of every country where the principles of Western Uberalism have been a^ » in Md wmxRN avouATioir U «Vted. It U thii doctrine wh):h it denied in aU other politick conititution* It i. tlie doctrine of the •utive equality of men that haa been behind the Ion, movement in our Wertem worid which baa emwicl: pa ted he people and alowly equipped them with S'^t'^T' ."'' *' " "** «P"di«tion of it which conatitute. the ultimate f«:t in eveorphaae and atage ^irld Z'i'"" :■'''' """ ""'^«°«"' "- ««>»«- tered. Profeaaor Ritchie baa enumerated » the "nat- ural nghta which have been most commonly claimed aa auch in the modem movement towarda Democracy. M the nghta of life, of liberty, of tolenition, of piMc meeung and aaaodatior., of contract, of resiitance to oppresaion, of equality, of property, and of purauing and ob aaning happineaa. Brt they may aU be r^ jolved into the claim of the native equality of men. Und« whatever form exprcMcd, and through what- ever involved procea. we follow it, down even into the theone. of the followera of Mane, it U thia d«^ tone of the equality of men which underUea, aa a firat principle the creed of every democratic partj in the politic* of the modem world. i— > «• w Nevertheleaa, what we aee ia that by the men with E„!ri'*»rf"'°°* """""^ "«•>»" ori«in«tedin England the doctnne of the native equality of men WM most certainly not accepted aa a first principle. I,' had no meaning apart by itsell We aee that it waa accepted at the time, aa it was accepted later --i Locke s writings.* only as a corollary to a conception of the relationship in which men were held to stand to a meaning in their lives which transcended the ' Cf. MitKraJ itigU,, ch«j«u yi-rir. • a Tw, Tr«M,„ ,/ Gn-ernmint, bk. U. clap. U. " WMTEW* UBERAUaV ,„ TSwJf "*•!»'«««• '»cl»d«" within tb« Unit. to ongwal ,po„,or. „ being ju.t u lacking of ,Z port from the teaching of reuon and experiences he «o.t hostile critic of Democracy ha. enSurl^ to prove .t Nay more, it would have app^rS « ^meaaurably and a. inconceivably ab.uK eve" Nietxwhe m hi. fierce invective ha. in our dm. ■Merted it to be. "" When the .crutiny i. continued we must notice •g«' how fundamental wa. the aa.umption the.e nen hadin mind in Uying down that doctrine wh ch ^L^ ^T"^ ""^ "" ^ '•»•*""'*'/ «» »nd ex- ceptional m h«to,y--the central doctrine upon whidh tte whole theoiy and practice of modem o'^mc^cy £^ ,W ^° 'T'^^-'^^^y. th.t ail autS ment. hold their power only by delegation from them.i In the movement in progrew in England in the STofThl u"^"^ the people we.* pLed n the .^L^- I u * '*""^"*^ "** ™""K Prin^Ple resident tt^f ?'''°".' l***^ ^'' °' society directed toward. Inl r^'i!l°" X '''* "'""'^'^ ^*"«t» of its exist! Sf mL^^T-.K^'""''"'^ '=""''* •""' '^ f"""'' from SirTi? . ""* P^-Po-^ders of the doctrine under- SJ L"^"*^*' "^^ accompanying conception 2Zdl!f ""r* "•• '"y "PPO"'* of such aj •Mumptioa It represented, in the last aaalygi., > ficfmlar Gmmmnt, pp. J-ij. no WESTERN OVIUSATION aur. rather the endeavour to project the controlling princi- pies of society altogether beyond the limits of politi- cal consciousness. For the characteristic meaning of the revolution which was in progress arose from the fact that it was within those limits that the gov- erning principles of society had necessarily been en- tangled in all previous theories of ultimate authority conceived as resident either in the Church, the Kinjt or the State. * The far-reaching significance of the principle under- lying the transition is, in short, immediately evident as soon as we reflect on the nature of the inherent tendency of human development, as discussed in the preceding chapters, to project the controlling mean- ing of the evolutionary process in society beyond the limits of political consciousness. We begin to dis- tinguish the character of the interval which separates such a conception of civil society, not only from that which existed in the ancient civilisations, but from that which had hitherto prevailed in Western Europe. The character of the principle introduced remained as yet undefined in men's minds. It was unanalvsed in any of the prevailing theories of society. But the import of the new departure is unmistakable to the evolutionist. As the observer follows the development of the theory of society here launched into view the in- terest continues. The first political writers who present themselves in England as endeavouring to deal on scientific methods with the principles of that new order of society which was to ripen towards the modem epoch, consist of a group in which Hobbes and Locke are the most prominent examples. Of " WESTERN LIBERAUSM ,„ the.e Locke in particular stands out as a command- ing figure destined as he was. more than any Se wnter of the period, to influence both direc«y and .ndirectly throughout Western Europe the s'Lbse quent development of th. theory of the modem State. Now If we take the political works of these two wnters and analyse them carefully at the present time -foaowing the principles enunciated by Hobbes into the form in which they becom- de/elopS^ by Locke -the result is very striking. We descend at once, as .t were, beneath the surface of things nto a repon of twilight where, as in a vast wort! tork Tf' orin ,"^ ^'-ly extended the great frame- work of principles on which the modem theory of society has been reared. As we traverse backv^ds and forwards this region of realities, and beriTto understand the nature of the spectacle before « the effect on the mind is remarkable Here we sj; tl Sef e^Tn "' ''" ^'''''' ^-lutionTlnTof": "thi *^°f Democracy. Here is the doctrine of the state of nature." of the "social contract" of the "sovereign people." Here also is the doctrine Chl\" Tc"'"'''*^ °' "*»• °^ '•»•= sepaiation of Church and State, and of fundamental principles resident in society and limiting the powers^f eg" lators and of governments. They are the doctrines ^und which the stress of the ilitical life ol o" Western world has since centred. They are doc- trines of which the greater number are accepted at the present day as first principles in the teaching I C«*»», c.xia.-rri.«ndc.Dii.s Tm TrtaMsao/GmrrmtiH, i c. ii. iii. " WESTERN LIBERALISM „, Writers on the continent of Europe, maintained that th^^? T "'"' '°"'"^«'> »'™ maintain J o^ might be deposed.! But we have only to c^ the u~hi'ch°tt: ''""'" *° ''"'^ '••^^ '^' -^«on ^^H^Ie^'l-rtrrt;i::,rt;^^^^^^^^^ Although to Hobbes the "state of nature" was a fi«? ^iT' *'''" ••'' "^eument is follow^ in th^ Chapter iv of the essay on Liberty > (entitled "That the Law of Nature is a Divine Law") it may be s«:n argument. In Locke's imaginary "state of nature " ^m, the primary conception from which the ^^ «ent proceeds is that men in a state of nature X to be regarded as bom equal and independent But X.r;.?? ^"°''"°' ''' Passage^m the Z ItZTlf ^'^'T*^'^' '" V^^ before the mind InM • ..'^''"'^'•^ '"'^ characteristic and fundi rrtrrSrs^tVof'Ltf ^^-r^ ;ffec, has itse/?iar;t:rrtTia";t'ic? when we come to inquire into its chan^ctel^ T^. "4 WBSTERN CIVIUSATION ceived to be so far-reaching that it control* all the principles of the political state which is regarded as having succeeded to it,i When men were regarded as having left the state of nature, and as organised into societies under gov- ernment, the tacit assumption underlying and per- vading the entire argument is found to be still the same. Hobbes, from his point of view, undertook to prove that men owed absolute obedience to the civil authority once constituted. But it is only necessary to examine the stages of the argument to see how it is all in the end bound up with the same assumption of a sense of responsibility in men to principles, the claims of which, on the individual, transcended the utilitarian interests of existing society.' Locke from » Speaking of the « stole of nature," Locke continues : « But tliough tlu» be » state of Bberty, yet it it not a itate of UcenK ; though man in that state have an uncontrollable Uberty to dispow: of his person or possessions, yet he has not Uberty to destroy himself, or so much as any creature in his possession, but where some nobler use than its bare preservation calU for it. The state of Nature has a law of Nature to govern it, which obliges every one, and reason, which is that law, teaches aU mankind who will but consult it, that being aU equal and' independent, no one ought to harm another in his Ufe, health, Uberty, or possessions ; for men being aU the workmanship of one omnipotent and infinitely wise Maker ; aU the servants of one sovereign Master, sent into the world by His order and about HU business ; they are His property, whose workmanship they are made to last during His, not one another's, pleasure " ( T«io TriaHsa of Gmernrntnt, by John Locke, bk. ii. chap. ii.). « Obedience to constituted authority "where it is not repugnant to the laws of God," was what Hobbes considered he had proved in the first thirty chapters of the Lemathan. "There wants only," he con- tinued, "for the entire knowledge of civil duty to know vtat are those laws of God " ; and he proceeds to give an exposiUon in which the assumed sense of continued and personal responsibility to an authority outside of society presents itstif as the central and dominant feature. Sec Ltvinthan, by Thomas Hobbes, ch.ip. xxxi. and foUowing. " WESTERN UBERAUSM „, a diflFerent standpoint insisted that the supreme authonty in civil society could not assume to S any power which was not in accordance with certain fundamental laws But here again, when the e«m" nation ,s earned far enough, it becomes evident that the argument still rests, in the last resort, on the ^ntT r °?"°"P'" °P«-t-e in society, the con! -ent of ,h;;h transcended that of the utilitarian inter- ests of its existing members.' in^Z^L'u"' u " °* '•*' '^"^ importance to keep m mind the character of the revolution in England which had produced the movement in thought we are here regarding. That revolution represems Zl setlortHh r^""^^' "°'' ^''''''' *>>« attempt To set forth the theo^r of human development as a theoiy of the utilitarian interests of the exisUne tTetr "'r'T: " '^P^''^'^-*^' - Effect S tirelv^ / '' '^""^ "' '^^ •""»=« '»'°d to en- th« L T^^* P"""P'"' '^^ «='*'« °f which on the mdmdual was conceived as transcending that of all mterests included within the limits o^^poS cd consciousness, from all theories whatever 'of he entangled. The deep import of the spectacle is in short, unmistakable. Masked beneath the a^sum.! ^ons Of the time, still undefined and unanalysedT mens minds, there lies hidden in the process n progress a new principle of society. We'ie rillj bk. H. cUp. XL •'"''<* God - Tw^ Tr«uucs of Ga»m„ent, Ii6 WESTERN aVIUSATION m i ^ watching a development in which the principle* ot government are being completely disentangled ftom those of absolute ethics ; the overwhelming signifi. cance of the transition consisting, as the evolutionist begins to distinguish, in the fact that the governing principles of the social process are thereby, for the first time in human history, being projected alto- gether beyond the control of merely political con- sciousness. Hobbes in this light is to be regarded as the first sfKial theorist who marked oflf the domain of positive law in society from the region of ethics, in which there continued to be still involved the larger and fundamental principles of "society" as a whole. Ana he began the process, as Sir Frederick Pollock with deep insight points out, unconsciously and of necessity, through trying to make legal su- premacy the final and conclusive standard of political right* It is from this point forward that we have now to watch the development of one of the most remark- able situations in the history of thought. What we have seen so far has been the theory of the utilitarian State beginning to be disengaged from those larger principles of human conduct in society which had hitherto included it. But what we have now to watch is a development in which we see this same theory of the utilitarian State, as it becomes thus differentiated, gradually tending in Western thought > a. History of Ot Scima of Pclitia, n. But as a comequence of hii potition, Hobbca hu had the ftte of appearing henceforward in > derelopment of WeMern thought, the real lignificance of which is only beginning to be nndentood, as the intellectual ftther of the mechanical and franidy materialistic school of social theory. WESTERN UBERAUSM "7 to be accepted, by itself alone, as tht vikolt scienc, of our social evoluHon. Gradually dissociated in the ninds of men from tb« fundamental assumptions to which It was related at the outset, and upon which, as we have seen, rested the central ani characteristic doctrines of modem Democracy, it becomes slowly developed through the literature of the French Rev- olution into that theory of Western Liberalism which, as it culminated at last in England in the wntings of John Stuart Mill, must excite the amaze- ment of every mind which has mastered, in the light of the modem doctrine of evolution, the nature of the system of life unfolding itself in Western civilisa- tion. As if in effect, says Nietzsche— speaking from his own point of view— as if the whole train of Ideas leading to the modern development towards Democracy, and springing from the system of re- ligious belief associated with our civilisation, is not a self-contained system, a view of things consistent and complete in itself I "As if we could break out of it a fundamental idea and thereby not break the whole into pieces I" > As we tum our faces now from the period of Locke onwards, we have in view, in the subsequent history of Western thought, a spectacle so extraordinary that. If It were not presented in the clearest outline it must have appeared to verge on the incredible. The first aspect of this development presents itself as we behold the ideas which Hobbes had set in motion in England obtaining a wider currency on the continent of Europe. The theory of government » a. Tk, TwUigit c/a, IJob, by Friedrick Nietach*. -« if Ii8 WESTERN dVnJSATION and of conduct developed by Hobbes was soon taken up. and, in many of its leading features, expanded by Spmoza. Yet we notice at once a certain difference beneath the surface. The utilitarian theory of the S^ate ., ,t may be distinguished, already tending to be developed on the continent as a self and they constitute the central principles of the French Revolution as set forth in the Declatationt 01 1791 and 1793.' ofl'lf ''"J?"' beneath all the outward similarity of words and forms, we may perceive that, on the continent of Europe, a clearly defined process of development away from the position of Locke, is proceeding m thought. It is the theory of the utUUanan State alone which is coming io be re! garded as embracing the whole science of society And in the science of society, as thus conceived, no essential connection is assumed to exist between the pnnciples on which it is made to rest and those ideas with which we observed the principles of society to be involved in the minds of the civil revo- lutiomsts in England in the midst of the religious movement of the seventeenth century. The princi- ples of modern Democracy, which in England in that century were based on certain fundamental assump- tions without which they were regarded as having absolutely no meaning, are coming, it may be olv served, to be accepted as standing entirely alone, on anZ'^^ZlT """^"^ "'"""'"•" '^ * """"^ 'f '^ "on, VOL ,, Introduction ; and Ritchie's Natural Jiight,. App«dix. 190 ^ffnm civiLiaATiaN »'-»r own merit. «nd in their own right. Outward xo™. of word. «.rve to ma.k the tr,n.ition which i* taking place, but the character of the procew b n;,\'"S"/"' , ^' *••' '"' °^ *"« «i«htee„thTemu.J the nteUectual conception of Wctem Libe«li.m, Z we .ee >t presented in the literature of the French Revolution ha. come to reprcent .imply the tSry •try for n. .Ah- . '^~"" ^""^ « " therefore abiolutehr necei- rmatten; the prieet. become the re«l ■OMten, " WESTERN UBERAUSM ,«, In the growing light of the time in which we .r« .PP«.e<. to he exactly the "^e^^ -U^leT^ ^^ deeper ioterett thu tbk. Ko, I, .i^Zj? ^ *""*• '" " » ""k foDow widely !i^uX» dereloped world, the cont„,Uing cen^e of d^ •'""^'""' "' *« """« «nthe„id«of,h.:*i^CcW:;^X'- ^'"^ once^orepUced poiition may with .d».n..~ ™ "^""""o"- Rou»e«n'i intermediate "••ine -ow .TowedhT^ 'nf- «»»«"«"> of «cid con^ionm.. »bject of relig^u iXly Jl ^"'^"^ o,g.ni«ition. tb. to the pHn Je whiitt^t^' "e ^LTt^lH^^ "^ deuly defined. ™™«uig tae present to the future a isa WESTERN CIVILISATION 11 I I' in the Revduxion in Fnmce. "A light of mat to alinMt everything of Burke'i nuUdng. but it if a d.ffu.ed light of which the focu. i. not revealed, but only conjectured." » We are beginning to underatand now«,n»ething of the p.ofound .ocial in.tinct from which thit Ulumination proceed., as well as to per- ceive the character of the principle Burke had in •ight, which reconciles the apparent contradiction here descnbed. Burke unmist ikably gave voice in English thought to a conviction, widespread, deep, and sincere, which hM never since ceased to be representative both in England and the United States of the most char- actenstic of all forces behind the phenomenuo of Western Liberalism, namely, the conviction that the principles of Democracy, formulated as they were in the French Revolution (that is to say. a. a theory of the interests of the political State, resting logically on the materialistic interpretation of historyi are n(^ only different from the principle, of Weswm Libei- ^m which have come down through Locke and the English and American Revolutions; but that they are not. and never can be. the principle, of that Democracy which our civilisation is destined to carry forward to ultimate fruition. ' As we, therefore, turn over the page, of Burke at the present day in the light of the position out- lined beneath the modem evolutionary development It is impossible to resist a feeling of profound sur' pnse. For Burke, we see, had. even at the date in question, nsen to the height of perceiving society as 1 Outcry f/Ot Stum, ^/r^uia, by Sir Frederick PoUock, p. 86. «» WESTERN UBERAU8M ,,, idence wUl undoubtedly perceive it in the future - that ii to My, u a living and developing organiim ^centre of whoae life among.t the 'proS^ people, can nevermore be in the pre^nt time, and be regarded as the science of the interests of the present time or of the existing political State. We •ee Burke, accordingly, propounding the doctrine, already becoming strange to the theorist, of the French Revolution, that even the whole people have no right to make a law prejudicial to the whole com- munity. We see him. therefore, vehemently assert- mg „ against the prevailing theories of hi. time, that society could never be consiHered a. a mere partnership for the mutual profit of its exi.- i„g mem- ber.. For "««iety." a. he declared, was a <3. ne«h.p. not only between those who are living.Tt be wwn thoje who are living and those who are dead, him .peaking of the "social contract " itself a. a con- tract which, rf it ever existed, could be no more than a clause in the great contract of eternal society," » t»l^t^2L^f """' "'^ '"'«"• • ""'"*• S«b«rdin«. co.- ««. but the State onght not to be conddered u aothinK better thw . p«...«hip .peement in . trade of pepper .nd cofffe ^ C" tobacco, or „„,e other .«ch low concern. tiZ taken up ir, L^ . P«,ner*ip „„t ,.1, b.t^cn tho« who areT^^X'tt^:!.'^.™ *bo are UWng and .ho.e who are dead, and tho« whol toTblH^ i.^}^:^. 134 WESTERN OVIUSATION CKM nin'i? ^\!f°'' fr«"» this period forward through the mneteenth century the history of the movemfnt i! hought wh^h, with gn«iually\creasi„g c~.^ *'on has endeavoured to express the meaning Tt^e social process in Western history bva meZfV^ 1 the political State the result a^pS:: sSngXi last degree. Although, as we shall see later it is .mpossib^ on a review of histoiy to resist th; con elusion that the course of political development both .n England and the United States, during the nin^ teenth century, did not cease to be contfotdTnd Snifes of T ""^-^^^-the conviction that the principles of Democracy, which find their ultimate «press>on in the materialistic interpretation oht tonr, are not the principles of that Democracy wWch our civilisation is destined to realise-yet th^rels which r' °° "''^P'^'^ ^^"*''^^" "' knowIedg:i" which this conviction attained to scientific expression We have m sight in England for neari-- a cemu^ the remarkable spectacle of the almost complete Isll an7^ ^. ?•* ""=• ''"' °f ^1 '"to ascendency ^d then into close and authoritative association wkh cLpTer ''"''"°P''^ ''"'"="'"*'• » *••«= >-« served that it is everywhere the conception of the WESTEKN LIBERM u:»I I2S political State alone-the co ^cer.tion of i , economic and business welfare, and of ihe ascend.,ncy of the interests of the individuals comprising it —which is presented, in the prevaiUng school of English thought. as the science of society. In that long utilitarian move- ment described in the last chapter as more and more closely Identifying itself throughout the nineteenth century with the philosophy of Liberalism in Eng- land it IS the theory of the ascendency of the interests of the present which has become the whole science of society. In the movement which extends from Hume and Adam Smith, almost down into the time in which we are living, we have, as we saw in the last chapter, all the steps, in which this transition has been accomplished, clearly before us. As this movement expresses itself at last in Eng- tand in the writings of John Stuart Mill and Herbert Spencer, the theory of the ascendency of the present has become absolute. The evolutionist sees that the ruling meaning of the social process in Western his toiy must be that of a process in which the present IS being subordinated to the future. Yet in Mill's conception of progress it is the ideal of the ascendant present in a stationary State which is set before us as the summum bonum in political development. We see the restriction of population advocated by means of prudential rest:aints; the rivalry of the modem State condemned because of its "unpleasantness " to the individual; the theory of internal politics and of international relations expressed in a conception of business interests in the State; and the whole mean- ing of the social process in history summed up in the contemplation of the movement of the world towards 136 WESTERN CIVnJSATION our. an ideal in which laws and social arrangement shall at last bnng the interests of society as a whole into harmony with the enlightened self-interest of all the individuals comprised within the limits of theexistine political State. Similarly in the political philosophy of Mr Spencer it is only the aspect of progress as a struggle between the present and the past that we have continually in sight. Of the larger and charac- tenstic significance of the historical process in West- ern society as that of a struggle between the present and the future there is no perception. The meaning of the political developipent which has carried our civilisation towards the principles of Western Lib- eralism presents itself, therefore, to Mr. Spencer as capable of being all included,.as we saw. in a mere theory according to which existing social interests are to be considered as passing out from under the control of the past, towards an organisation of society in which a conciliation is to take place between the mterests of each and the interests of all; and in which the interests of the present are to be at last ascendant and supreme in every particular As we look back ■^t last, from the level of our own time, over the history of the nineteenth century, the interest in this remarkable development in Western thought culminates. Under a multitude of forms we see that the movement in social philosophy has, in reality, run its course as the complement and supple- ment of corresponding theories in the domain of moral philosophy and of religion. In the correspond- ing f ,eory m moral philosophy the tendency has been to assert that in the last resort human conduct requires no principle of support whatever other than T^,^ WESTERN LIBERAUSM 127 tnat of self-interest in society well understood In the corresponding theory in religion, the tendency has accordingly been to assert, with equal emphasis, that the tendency of the evolutionary process in human history is to empty the concepts of the system of belief associated with our civilisation of that dis- tinctive quality which projects their significance be- yond the limits of political consciousness. Under all three forms we are regarding, we see, but the diffe,- ent and closely related phases of a single movement m Western history. The fundamental conception underlying them all is the same. It is the concep- tion that It is possible to express the meaning of our social evolution, just as it was expressed in the civ- ilisations of the ancient Greek and Roman world namely, by a mere theory of human interests com- pnsed within the limits of political consciousness. In France of the present day it is impossible to come mto contact with the higher thought of the nation at any point without feeling how completely that unanalysed element, which in the theories of Hobbes and Locke had projected the controlling pnnciples of society outside the limits of political consciousness, has been eliminated from the syn- thesis of knowledge associated with the theory of Western Liberalism. In the current life of the French people all those sociological symptoms which attract the attention of observers ; the grave symp- toms which accompany the phenomenon of depopula- tion, on the one hand; the still graver symptoms which are associated with the ascendency of the conception of the political State as expressing itself under the ethics of militarism, on the other, may be 138 WraTERN CmuSATION CRAP. liii civilisations to be^ i * *^' " '" *« '««=i«t which a political cnn.^.„. '°**™ » condition m destined, in h^end tX ^'"''; "' ""y""'' «'°"»>t, consciousnesl Yet' i' ''*"^^°™«d i"*" a cosmic StuJia in Jltligumi HiUary. »» WESTERN UBERALISM ,jg tion and the consequent faUure of the French people Hl'JTV^"" '""""' P'"'^" '» ""^ civili^tion; and yet seeking to carry forward his analysis of the condition of his times only to the assertion that "des deux terroes de la contradiction entre la democratic min/"' w"' ''"l'''"" "^ '^"■"'^^ 1"' doit «tre 6li. i K u ''^ the development in modern thought which began with Darwin more and more surely pre- senting the history of the evolutionary process in human society as the histoiy of the conceptions which are subordinating the individual and society alike to the meaning of a process infinite in the future; and yet have to observe this writer with nothing better to offer the mind of modem France te^hl' ~" "''°"/''"' "''"yPothiseDieu est insou- tenable et delle-mtoe s'^Iimine par la seule action n^rf.T",''"; '\"' P'-°duite."» M. Dumont see, perfectly clearly the relation to the problem with which he IS struggling, of the fact that "1-homme salt fort aisdment ^viter la f^conditd en conse^nt le plaisir.-a But of the relationship of the same principle of the ascendency of the present to Z problem m the great evolutionary drama in progres' in Western history he has no conception. In current French thought. "I'hypoth^se Dieu's-^limine ■' And so m Fnince, in the theory of society which accom- panics the conception, it has come about that, to use the words of Paul Leroy-Beaulieu-.-the siate r^ mains the sole God of the modem world."* But it is in Germany of the present day that the w ti Cnilisatio 'Hid. li'H, par Aniae Dnmont, = Md. 4 „^j . „ , /(Jl(f. p. 31. L Euu mdirn. tt ,» F«Miom. p« P«a Leroy-Bcaulie^ p. 18. IJO WBSTERN CmUSATION i movement in modern thought, which has presented the meaning of Western Liberalism as a theory of material interests within the limits of political con- sciousness, has obtained the clearest definition, and already reached the inevitable stage at which it has begun to develop its own antithesis. On the one side of this movement in Germany of the present day we have the Marx-Engels theory of modem society Hitherto general attention has been so closely occupied with the economic aspect of Mandan socialism that the fact of first importance connected with it has received little attention. This is that Marxian socialism is not merely, or even chiefly, an economic theory, but rather a complete self-contained philosophy of human lif. and society. In Marx's theories of society those fundamental assumptions upon which the principles of Democracy were, in the last resort, made to rest in the theories of Locke, have completely disappeared. For there is now, to use the words of Mr. Russell, "no question of justice or virtue, no appeal to human sympathy or morality ; might alone is right, communism is justified by its inevitable victory." Marx "rests his doctrine not on -justice* preached by Utopia-mongers (as he calls his Socialist predecessors), not a sentimental love of man, which he never mentions without immeasur- able scorn, but on historical necessity alone, on the blind growth of productive forces, which must in the end swallow up the capitalist."! Social Democracy m Germany "denies wholly and unreservedly any spiritual purpose in the universe." It is optimistic » Gtrmm Sctial Democracy, by Bertrand RumU, p. 14. «» WESFERN UBERAUSM j,, .imply because it believes in a better world now and here. In the moverr-nt represented by John Stuart Mill in the middle decades of the nineteenth century in England there was lacking what maybe termed the full intellectual consistency which was necessary to carry its principles to their complete logical devel- opment. But in Marx this has been supplied, and the inherent and inevitable attitude of antagonism to the whole system of religious belief on which our civ- ihsation is founded is at length clearly in sight There has been reached, in short, the stage of frank political materialism. It is not by accident therefore, but of strict logical necessity, that we find V^ op. nt. p. 94. I-.0™ bec«ner.«on.bl. ^cordtag .0 hi, view. Although tTe .bS. 13a WESTERN aviUSATION i' CHAT, M has been said, has been hitherto occupied for the most part with economic criticisms of the manifesto*! 1 VK?- '"""^ I^emocracy. Nothing, however! can e,h.b.t .n a more striking light the deficiencyln of the Marxian position cannot be put into anv merely economic formulas." A condition of socid th.» „„. • 1 • I "" '"«"■>« movement, can faU to •« s:."£"xii£- "- -"- ;= -tr «ci.t.d with our cirtli«tion, .re be^lwlv ^ ^^7'"% unmoral S -m, «.d the purely mord den>«rf for justice and equJ^ty ouX p^ •» WESTERN LIBERAUSM ,,- ^n7^: ^"""'''^ "" *■" '"»^«ri«««ic interpreta- tion of history, carries with it in its bosom it^ oJn answer and its own final crificism thJV'*"*^^"' G*™»ny ^hich has given the world the first glimpse of the nature of the real answer- a^ that answer must be enacted in history-to a t^ce on the materiahstic inten^retation of history I„ K 1. "^ Arsine Dumont, anticipates the dav when "I'hypothise Dieu" shall be expelled from human b^ns. Like Marx, he rega.d»The tri o" religious belief on which our civilfsation s ?« om ^h^T' *° .^'^ *'*° •' ^ ^""-I emancipation Deiiet. But here Nietzsche once and for ever narts company with the "scientific socialist." It continul to be the same materialistic interpretation of histor^ But the application is different. " The great Eu^ pean narcotic of Christianity", is asso^^i ^ «.e existing order of things. Only too true assTrts Nietzsche ,n effect. It has enabled\he s^rf ZuU tionin our civilisation to invent a "slave moS^ to enhst sympathy, to obtain votes, to slowly Sn pre om^nee their natural and destinl^s^^ nors. What is this ideal of "sympathy and brotheriy 134 WESTERN CIVILISATICW aun ■ .( ■■ I ill 't kve made by Western Liberalism to support the.« movements of the modem world? asks NietzK^ n effect Mere contemptible consideration for the fafenor... the reply; mere lack of self-assertion in sm atS rr""" !^''" '" °"^ W«'«™ Liberal, ^m at best? Increased herding animality. What is wh ™hT' ?''! ' ^ '"""•"« *^ °^ ">« State i" .„ ^\ K "u '"P*""' '' '"""«'• ''i''' sympathies so that he may be kept out of his own 1 ' *^ " ,nTj!™!r^,'''"' """' ^""^ concentrated scorn from all the .deals and tendencies which express themselves m modem Democracy in Germany. Nietzsche delivers, as .t were to the occupvi.^ classes the gospel/^ ^Tn. . M '"A''"''"'''= interpretation of history, r !"» '• ° ""y brethren. I put over you. Be- ofmLThn ''°'"T"«^''P"'<=y'''g''bouttherights of man. those empty formulas of a religion of which we have g,ve„ up the substance. We are in possession, we are the superiors, we are the strongest. "The best thrngs be ong to me and mine, and ff men g^le „ nothmg then we take them ; the best food, the purert sky. the strongest thoughts, the fairest women."" In modem literature no man of intematiunal repn- thr.r'*'"/''',"''"' •'"' y^' ^'^"^ *° »"«' such thoughts so direct y Nevertheless they all. equally matenalistic interpretation of history -from the interpretation of the world in temis of the ml n^ interests of the present. They are the convicSns onThrr;'^' T'^' *"--'-' -t in t"S on the relations of capital and labour, not in discus- .' %' l!i. ■?■ !°°:"° '' "■' ^^ '^"^^■iri^. pp. *n-a46. ^ WESTERN UBERAUSM ,jj •ion. u to the ethical claim, of the recipient, of .ur- plu..value J but in the fulne.. of time, through all the avenue, of power and authority in the State in which kIZTk 'T'"*! '.'"' "«"«"»»•«<= inteqjretation of history ha. already in practice begun The imagination halts, falter., and turn, back on it. woru"' T u'V ^^°'^ '' "" P'-^'"^' °f the modern world m which the demand, of .ocial Democracy tend thu. to be met by the occupying classes in the same •pint in which they are made by Marx; when through all the corporations which regulate the produce of the worker; when through aU the trusts and organisation, of capital which control not only the a^iviHe "f .ndustnr. but the organ, of public opinion and even re.ort. through the va.t machine of militari.m itself, the strength of re.olved conviction : " Be hard, O my brethren. For we are emancipated. The worid belong, to „.. We are the .trongest. And if men do not give u. these thing, we take them. It i. the materialistic interpretation of history " Only the evolutionist realise, to the full the nature Tn Itr W r° ^^'?^ *'■''' t^x^hingof Nietrsche fall. down .r '"'7°'''^ °"'y '" '"" ^^ theresound. down the comdors of time the full meaning of the aeons in the pa.t. For it is we. the ru'ing classes of the nihng races of the Western world, who are sur^vlrs m our own stem right. It is m who have come out .1lecti„'„°""l "^'f °' " world-process of militao. selection wherein the present was always in the Mble nght; wherem the interpretation of history was 136 WESTERN aVIUSATlON auF. •Iway. materialUtic. If ,hi^ indeed, be all the «r„?„ 71 "'""""'' y"" »' °"^ civiliMtion. the Weal, of «,lf-Mcnfice before which we haveagoni.«l then be .tK,. Who. then, among.t u. doe. not Iready feel hi. no.tril. dilate and hi. pagan heart ?r.v V"" "'" "'""" °' W"'«™ Liberal,.™ imply. To your tent.. OhraeU What inheritance have we in the " .ympathie, " which en.lave us I We are the superior.. We are the .tronger. A new otSVl '• ' '""'^""'= intcrpre Jion And .0 our survey ha. reached the horizon. Looking back over the course of the evolutionanr pr^es. m human «Kiety. and then concentrating attention on the phase, of thought which have ju.f been con.idered. it .eem. impowible to resi.t the conclusion which present. it.elf. Theories and di.cu.s.on. as to the economic, of the modem worid a% .erve to di.gui.e the underlying fact of centnU ^ificance in the development, we have followed; namely, he retreat which ha. taken place all along the line to the standpoint of the ancient world. The controlling meaning of the evolutionary process in human society i. i„ all of them once more frankly and avowedly posited within the bound, of politick consciousness. In none of the developmenVs that have been passed in review is there, in short, to be distinguished the claim by which Western Liberalism Mn alone be justified as the controlling principle of progress m the modem worid. namely, its claim to W WMTERN LIBERALISM fjy project the meaniDg of the social process in Western history beyond all theories of the State, econohvc or political, beyond the content of all theories whatever of interests in the present. In France of the present day we appear to have neither in the Revolution nor in the counter-revolu- tion, any synthesis of thought which can be said to represent the characteristic meaning of our Western civilisation. In the Revolution we appear to see only M. Dumonfs contradiction, "la dimocratie et la re- ligion. • with the conviction in the mind of its expo, nents that of these two terms "it is indeed the latter which must be eliminated." And in the counter-revolution, so far as it exists in France we appear to be only carried back to the principles of society as these were presented in medieval Europe before the upheaval which created the modern oflho^jKTT'K" '"^''B'*"''' 'he great movement of thought which produced such transforming results in the surteenth century has continued to run its course. But we may already dimly perceive how profoundly the interpretation of that movement EnSd r '" ""^'T Germany and in modem England As we shall see clearly later, it ha. begun to flow m those two countries in widely different channels, the courses of which are tending to be increasingly divergent. In Germany both the Revolution and the counter-revolution have tended to reach their current expression in con- r?T\ the omnipotence of the political State. In the Revolution which has found its current ex- pression in Marxian social Demorracy. res*;ng on the ^ii' If! I pi I 138 WESTERN avnjSATION I! CKAK materialistic interpretation of history one of rt. terms of M. Dumonfs contradiS I ^ found expression in Burke in the period of the French Democracy Which oirSiroitdSSt^ii;: propertied cU«e^ but common rtice^? * '""f^ ''«-« 1^ f e them. "To idl who ™h a^j^^tTlV^" ^^"^ ""^ poor in Genmmy to be pa^eM^^ di^ . . i"^ '*'""" "■=" "«» bope: that the Kove^.^LH^^tT^f ' '"- "» «« but on. »one in tt. p„t, .nd they^ little .fp^^' ^''^'^'h''™ Penecution, complete «.d entire n™„™. T !" " ' ' <^^«»'>on of tion. of .pecch. .nd of"e "« "ftr'Z:""*'"^'""" '""'«- the-, w. mo.t fervently ho~The GeT.n , "°r' ^"™"'' "" too ut... (c^, iJ;./^Jt^:;*;,;t" *'"* '^"' " " " WESTERN UBERAUSM .^ '39 are incompatible with the materialistic inten,«tation t^c.mag,„at.o„of the historian of the future to do f uU just.ce to .t. It is that of the hosts of the Z^t orLiS^""'f'''^'°"Shtthehanl.wo„baS ^,. /k , ? "" *" ^'- "* ">" «™y '^-on which rest the sole hope and promise of Western LibeS LrheSmt rti; rst'S: r ^'^ ""^"^"«^* •vstpm «f IV I.- if i '*• **"* meaning of that to^ f?„m .. : -^ "^ '°"'* '""^ « Weftem his toiy from the beginning of our era-standing erim he'lS"!- "^'"•^ ''' P-^-- who knowTJ; the matenalistic mterpretation of history. It is an ^y which moves not. Restive, sullen7ma/estTc " waits for the restatement of its faith in o her tS. ler CHAPTER V TBE PROBLEM The main features of the problem with which we J« concerned in the study of Westen, society no^ tepn to present themselves in outline. There is nl hu«,n ? °'P°,"'y "**'^"'' ^ *'>«'> 'he deep human xnterest of that spectacle has as yet found «y adequate expression. There is no department rf knowledge m which the« has yet arisenTwriter tte s,ir^ ' T"^ '"' '"" ^P °f '"e inteUect the significance which it wiU almost certainly present ^ht IT °* -^k'"^ ««n««tions. If we have been ^^ of Westen. Libendism. nor of the socS process m the e« in which we are living, can^ longer be conceived as capable of being exir^L i^ Xt ?"r' ''°"*'^ "' °^ econSSSsS in the State. We are living in the midst of a tyJ iLllf ^^'*' "'"' '^^ °"'y '"^'= «=-« to hold's place m the past, and which can only continue to hold us p^ace in the future, in respect of one ruling quality alone, namely, its own fitness in the never-relaxed stjain and stress of an ascending process oZJ^. And the ruhng pnnc.ple of that process of increasing efficiency ,s. as we have seen it. that every interest of the present m society around .s must in the end stand in subservient and subordinate relationship to mtercots which cannot, in the nature of thingsf be 140 ca*r. V THE PROBLEM Ht included within any boundaries of merely Doliti«.l consciousness. ™erejy political If. therefore, the process of social orH^r ,•„ »u ^S T' "t -^"^^ ^° ^Se^tst^ryt destned to maintain its place in the future That pmiciple of the evolutionary process broS „to apXr"^; ''""°" ^"^P*'' --' •- heldt appiy to It; and we may sav that in tu^ ■ .., fonnula of its life, the' Z^^ f t.^^ mdmduals possess neither place nor m^n^ «! cept m so far as they are included in. and are sut ordinate to. the interests of a develop „g 'rem „^ order the overwhelming proportion of whose Tern ben, are stiU in the futurcT We may have Ty" opinions whatever about our own inte^sts Tth^^ he id<^ we have in view conforms to the nS kw, rt.ch are governing the evolutiona^r proceTi write^^s ,^1!^ p"uV^;?aSs7':in"^^:s Jung v^te and squandered ben Jh ihe^wl^rj «»ne power ^Z Z hL^T«. " Z t "™ " ' ' "* of .ub.Htutrag for it Motto^f Lr * "*"' °"''=™- ""^ pr»«' >• pour k m«t« en pruique wnt Ttu™ T*^^!' ". '"'" "" **"" n«urc3e et ••al--d»„n„ T »««™=« '» trajectoirc d'mse force Uvemr.«g„Uie«„™,.t.re.„U,i.d.l.„ur.. (^r^enc^^:: 143 WESTERN aVIUSATION i I I Stripped of all metaphysical swaddling-clothes and reduced to its plainest terms, the conception with which we are confronted in modem evolutionary science as applied to the process of social progress is this. The history of the world has become, in the last analysis, the history of the development of the conceptions by which the individual is being sub- ordinated to the meaning of a world-process infinite in Its reach— the history of a development in which we are concemt J with a creature moving by inherent "necessity towards a consciousness no longer merely local, or national, or political, but cosmic, and from whom the subordination in progress must, in the last resort, be demanded in terms of his own mind. It is, therefore, in the meaning of the great social systems founded on the conceptions which are effect- ing this process, and not in any petty theory of the State conceived as an organisation of the political or economic interests of the existing members of society, that science will have to find in the future the controlling principles of the process of social development which the race is undergoing. Our first duty is, accordingly, to endeavour to understand as an organic whole the process of Ufe represented in our civilisation. It has been pointed out by Professor Marshall* ponrra iitamina m jour k tnjectoire de I'Jyolttdon locUle" (Its LMUts tntre SocUlis Humaines, par J. Noyicow, p. 175). Compare with ProfeMor ManhaU'i statement that our first duty in the study of social forces is "never to aUow our estimates as to what forces win prove the strangest in a • social contingency to be biassed by our opmion as to what forces ought to prove the strongest " (Quar- Urlyjomnal c/Economus, vol. ri.). ' "The Old Generation of Economists and the New," by Alfred Marshall, cp. cit. j - THE PROBLEM »43 m that one of the principal results of recent work in the study of society, even in its economic relations, is to bnng home to the mind the conclusion that the infinite variety and complexity of natural forms with which we are concerned therein is compatible with a remarkab e latent simplicity of governing principle If we apply this direction in a wider sense it will lead us, in endeavouring to consider the social process in our civilisation as an organic unity, to take up at the outset a position sufficiently detached to allow at first only the bolder outlines of the evolutionary process to fall full and clear upon the mind. What, therefore, as viewed from such a position, is the nature of the governing principle which is distinctive and charac tenstic of the process of social development in our Western era ? And whither is the principle of social efficiency which & .t process represeuts tending to carr;' < the future? If «,t .urn to the process of social order presentt. m the avilisation of our Western era, one of the first facts concerning it with which we are confronted, is the almost overwhelming strength of the conviction in the general mind, that our civilisation not only represents a type of social life which is quite different in pnnciple from that of the Greek and Roman worlds which preceded it, but that it represents a type which IS entirely exceptional in history. Although the fact of the unbroken continuity of Western civilisation from the Greek and Roman times down into our own IS one of the commonplaces of knowledge, yet an immovable general instinct, going deeper than the outward facts of history, conceives the system of civilisation beginning with our era as separated from Hji 144 WESTERN aviUSATION CRAP. yij w that which preceded it by one of the most clearly marked lines of demarcation in the history of life On one side of the line this general instinct sees the cosmic process operating under one set of conditions On the other side it conceives it as having entered on a new phase, subject to other principles, and pro- ceeding towards problems quite different from any that have ever before been encountered. Now in regarding the development upwanls to- wards higher social efficiency of a rational creature in which, as it were, the cosmos itself moves towards consciousness, it wUl become more and more evident on reflection that the process at a particular stage must possess features of extraordinanr interest. The development in progress in human society IS, It may be observed, over and above everything e^c a process of progress towards higher social efficiency. The individual, it must always be re- membered, has in that process once and for ever ceased to be the factor of the first importance. For M society is of necessity greater and more effective than the individual, it has been, from the beginning, the efficiency of the system of social order to which the individual belongs that has become the de- termining element of success in the process which IS progress. And. as. under the operation of the hw of Natural Selection, it must have happened from the outset that it was the types of social order in which the subordination of the interests of the mdmdual to those of the social system around him was mich this end ,. being achieved, will gradually become ascend abort, become m time weighted in eveiy detail by the interests of this larger future. ^ As. therefore, in th^t Jlrst epoch of social develop- ment m which social efficiency was synonymous with SS.f "*"T *'" '""'''-'Eristic ^d Ling prin- ciple of the epoch was seen to be the supremacy of «L T*!-"";'' ~"*">'"*«d to social efficiency by suho dmating the individual simply to the existing social organisation; so now in the second epoch thf distinctive ruling principle may be stated with equal fo~_ "■*" "^ P"' '"*° """^ *«™» « In the second epoch of the evolution of human dtnc, of the ruhng causes which contribute to a higher MS WESTERN avnjSATION vi.ii I auK W^jf social tfficwuy by subcrdinating toeitly Hst» When we pau«. for a moment and regari closely the .c.ent.fic principle of e,t«ordina^ intereZ which here emerge, into view, we begin to perceive the signifiMnce and magnitude of the cla.. of phe- nomena which must accompany it. .low ri.e into ^\ I ? '^"'"""n- Along the frontier, where the first .tage merge, into the .econd, and wher« wcety Itself begin, to pas. under the control of it. own Juture, the imagination catche. sight for the fir.t time of the .tupendous reach of the world-diama. more than begun to advance. ' m!2Z^^'' evolutionist stand. i„ history in the midst of the peru^ preceding the rise of the civiliw. bon of our era. there slowly awakens in his mind the con ciousneM that the interest with which the dim H h .""^^ generations of men in our Western world has tended to surround this period in the past, u hkejr to be equalled if not .urpa«ed in the liS^l L^nV thl^l" " ^""^ '"'* ''"'" •" «*''ty '""king processes which dominate the whole span of human evolution run into and overiap each otlw On the one side, in the great civilisations of the human development of enormously prolonged dura- tion the immense. worldHivolving stress of which the miagmation can only feebly picture. It is the cul- mmating penod of that epoch of time in which the THB PXOBLEH 149 pKMiit WM always in the ascendant, and in which the long, slow struggle of the race upwards was domi- nated in all its aspects by the one controlling princi- pie of miUtary efficiency. On the other side we have dimly portrayed before us the outlines of the first great organic system of society in which there is des- tined to rise into ascendency at last the causes which are to project the controlling principles of the evolu- tionary process beyond the present. There is, in reality, no clearly defined boundary line. Far away into the future there still runs the influence of the dominating principle of the ascendency of the present which has hitherto controlled the course of human development. But it is along a downward curve The culminating period in the first stage of the human process has been passed. Now when the endeavour is made to concentrate the mind at the point in the evolutionary process at which we see society thus beginning to pass definitely under the control of the future, there comes slowly into view a fact the importance of which soon forces Itself upon the attention. It may be observed on reflection that, while the whole trend of develop- ment in the second epoch of social evolution must be towards the subordination of the present to the future the battle-ground upon which Natural Selection can alone distinguish between such types of social effi- - ciency as may arise must, nevertheless, remain always in the present time. There comes into view, there- fore, at this point a remarkable principle in our social evolution. It is that no progress can be made towards Ihat second and higher stage in which the future will begin to control the present until Natural Selection 150 WESTERN CIVIUSATION auK K taai first of tl) developed to the highest pouible e«ent, for the time being, that type of society which, of all others, possesses most power of holding its own in the present time. For no efficiency in respect of the future would avail any type of society which did not a^so possess the power of being efficient in such con- ditions as existed in the present. If it were not able to hold Its own in competition with other societies organised to obtain the highest potency in the present time It must simply disappear from view in the stress of evolution. The most potent type of organised society in such conditions would be, beyond doubt, that in which every element and interest had been sub- ordinated to the end of military efficiency. What we come, therefore, to perceive is that the type of society organised towards military efficiency roust at this point not only become the rival of all other types, but that towards the end of that 3rst stage it will be the one supreme and surviving type before which all others have disappeared. Nay, more, we •ee that the rise to ascendency of the causes which are to subordinate the present to the future in the second stage cannot begin untU this culmination has actually taken place. We seem, therefore, to have m addition to the principle of the two stages already enunciated, this additional fact in view : /tts only from the typ, of society in which there u still potential tke highest military efficiency that there can be developed that principU of social efficiency which, in the second epoch of s-cial ^volution, must ultimately subordinate organised society itself to iU r.-m future. THE PROBLKH 151 Af we reflect on the nature of the lituation which if here presented, its features begin to grow upon the mind Slowly we distinguish that we have before us conditions leading up to a supreme crisis from which there must proceed some of the most remarkable phenomena that the evolution of society is destined to present. From far back beyond the earliest mists of human history we see the workings of that stage of social development in which the subordination of the individual to organised society is being effected — involved in the tendencies of a vast military process which must culminate in a type of social organisation of which the very life-principle must be that of vigorous, conscious self-assertion ; and in which every institution must bear upon it, in the last resort, the mark of its relationship to the condition of military ascendency. And yet it is from this type of society that the new social order must arise. It is from the peoples who stand forth in the evolutionary process as the supreme survivors of these untold ages of military selection, and from these alone, that there must now be developed that higher type of social efficiency of which the essential life-principle is that every interest of the existing social order must be subordinated to interests which are not only not included within the present time, or within the existing social organisation, but which must remain projected beyond the content of even political consciousness. We have evidently here the outlines of a cardinal position in the development of human society, a situa- tion in which the master-principles that ar.; shaping the course of human evolution must meet and come IP WBSTERN CmuSATION CRM>. Bill ^■^, . ^"^ P*"*^***- *''«« we observe the tajv^dual ,.mply passing „„der the contJoUf he existing social organisation, there rises before it ! pX.i thTf °"' ''^"'""™' """"• '"<•'"-' >y of Z^; •^ ''"" ''«°'°P^ied this first stage of subordination, and of the immense range of phenomena through which the process h^^bee„ padually effected. Out of the rLulting resistance there have arisen all the great systems of curtom of socul morality, and of law. in Operation through! out the world around us; the function of which hw been to subordinate the individual merely to th^ existing interests of society. ^ " Vet the resistance which the individual offered to a process subordinating him to the existing poS 5rthr:^i/^--:-5^,-p- ^i Itself offer m the second stage to a nror«. which must in the end subordinate it^o the inUrS .L^sn'r '"""'' ** ""'^'' °^ ^'' ^^^^ - ind^Wdr? "k"'" '^'="'"^y °^ «>« '"dividual, ^«<, m and the hterat^ire of the emotions always intu' tivebr perceives - itself the measure of the intens^y 2 the resistance offered to the process subonlinat „g Jum to organised society,! so now the efficiency J h THE PROBLEM '53 otganiaed society must be itself the measure of the resistance which society will oflfer to its own subordi- nation to interests beyond the limits of its political consciousness. What we see is that the entire range of the processes of the human mind in its highest manifestations must be drawn into the vortex of this supremo conflict. In it we stand at the very pivot of the evolutionary process in human history. The whole content of systems of thought, of philosophy, of morality, of ethics, and of religion, must in time be caught into it. It is in the resulting demiurgic stress that rival systems r " society will be uncon- sciously pitted against each other; that nations, and peoples, and great types of civilisation i Ul meet, and clash, and have their principles tested. And it is in of the moit intereitjng lobjccts of itudy to the erolationiit who hu grasped the retationship to each other of the governing principle! of the two eru of human evolution here dcKribed. The character of the transitian wiU be more fuUy dealt with in relation to the standard! in Greek art diaowed in the next chapter. The tendency of the emerging emotion! which are reLited to the lecond epoch of aocial evolution ia not yet clearly perceived, although it is one of the most disturbing influences in modem art. The stiU dominating influence of the impulses and emoUons which are reUted to the first era of our •odal evolution is, however, weU understood in the art of the dram.. In a recent address in EngUmd to an audience interested in the draina, Mr. W. L. Courtney created discussion by setting hU hearers a psychologic^ problem. In the fint pUce, he asked, could a very good man be a hero. With aU fear of certain dramatic critici before h» eyes, he answer-d, « No " j the exceptionaUy good man could not be a hero of drama. The reason! were obvious. In the first pUce. the drama dealt with action, and the saint was pajsive. Tn the second place, the dmma dealt with emotions, and, ix hyp the mark of the impact of thT .t""'^^^"' ** ''*^« inquest upon Indil fII * "^^ "^ '"^'"n and the Iranic, Galchic aa^W ''*''l"'" '» ^sia. in their subordinate ZMdrL^Tru" '"^«=hes - with guages-wehavereDr«-rf^ . «^°"P' »* Ian- Coming into E^o'Sri^J'^-ir.of advance, languages, with its wcient^ ^ *""' ^'""P '^ represents another ^a of ^n °^*™ derivative^ we have marked the^d^le "fTT , ^''"''«' *«»t "t« ancient Oscan, Sabtr ul"" ^'"'''^ '"^^'' '^th pages, of which ^, S's^h. ^■' '"'* ^""^"^ "an- have yet gone dow^^J ''?? '? ''""'"y hefo« they Latin- Furthern^htaE^ ' ' ^'f '""•'^'"'hduing the Lithuanic branTh' l^J^'^^f -"''' ''=^'°° °^ conquest represented frvth- ^ "'* «^t area of Celtic tongues. 11^'°"?^ "''^^'y^'^dbuted cessive waves of adtnce ° . "' "'"* '''' "•"=■ marked by the present rff. v. ■°'"^'''^^ ''hich are tatives of L gr^llf ::dTV''''' ''P^-- •Peech. Even when auluo" '"'"""^ divisions of tension of a langu^ by o C " """''' '"^ *"*' «' » coun,e of uniLSed^S „r"' *"'" "^' ^^^t does the mere recaDituitf. """"agmable conquest Kor an immense'^ S^ ^^^ -P-nt "^ cae successive waves " ASCENDENCY OF THE PRESENT ijg 2 invader. mu,t have continued their impact upon «ch other, or upon the peoples whom they encTn tered; conquenng and exterminating, taking possel «on, settling and absorbing, and LTmo^Jt repeat the process. Although theSncTngTav J must again and again have broken and dispe^ed the movement a, a whole must have continued^hh little Of sr *'"""'* °' ^"" ''"'"' '^'^^ at Sin lr"'"f °' ''' ""'""'^ P«"<^ *«= have it st,l^ T.r • °" ^""P^" *'^'°'y in an advanced stage. Illynans and Letts, Greeks and Latins Ceks Slavs, «,d Teutons-these represent but the llS waves of the invasions. View..rf in fK«- and kind^ rlr. V I" '""«•"& t^e of Slavs ana landred peoples from the north. Hve. With the first rise of Roman history we catch the echo of the strife of the tribes of Lat7stocirand mist^ofthewo^^dt^lSr-irt^'irm 'I fi iSo WESTERN CmuSATION the north belMguering her. The hutory of the Ro- tions, the last stage of all tT •^'^'"*^- Roman territoriesTthe h^i" "1"^'°" °* ">« "lowly «,,,,„^ its c««rn h sfo^" F^r^J' fthe^' but "elder S"n Zn'^^T •^''^ '"^ and whose sneerh ^ • ' ? '''*'** '"stitutions own." i wfS Thl^ "?'?' "*'"'' *°™» of '»>«i' to «» ..„ .. iatfk. LIS 7° """'• "™°« "cpy, fa ,1,, vKlblfn^" *=' y" »'»"'' '• " ASCENDENCY OF THE PRESENT ,g, • Whole, i, that it n.u.t have represented a proce.. of »U.Ury .election, probably the most .ust-d^!^ longed, and culminating in character that the rS; hu «rer undergone. Eve^r item of infonnation^^hS recent science and research have been .ki. ' ""^ tributetoour knowledge of i,tlS,e"^lX" «t.matmg ,t m this light In the history TsStS movements of the conquering peoples. Z tZ^l be always .„ tbe presence of races of p^^ whiteXk whe'eSTe'^ ''T""'/' *''» outseTof temw' where the struggle with nature for existence had been for long age, continuous and severe. I„ ^S «ndenngs. conflicts, and conquests, it mu« ha^ ^n the bmvest. the strongest, the most daring who continuously went forward. The fittest whT. ■ ^ were those who did so in their oLtemlr^^ process as a whole must have been «„- / ^ "*" .t^ssinaUitsstages; aprL«Trii^^;"S:? «st thl *•»« •t"Pendou, framework in which we «« Z tJi T"^ •'" '"* '""'^'' development in wh^ ^SS-f^^l-t^STtl^S.^^ TotE^^ type which has become'^^Se" Ul' of M^ „^ ""'y '" "'' ""''« °f that phase ^ socMl order represented in the empire, of tte snucat world, he beholds the process of'life lunl 103 WESTERN OVIUaATIOH oun him tente with a more characteristic virility in- •tinct with a larger and deeper meaning, than he finds anywhere disclosed in the more or less local •tudies of the political histories of these civili«,tions which have for the most part filled the literature of the past. In the civilisations of the ancient oli- garchies of the Greek states, and of the Roman empire he is regarding, he sees, not some isolated and distinct type of society, the principles of which can be studied apart in themselves ; but one in which IS represented the last phase of an epoch of de- velopment which has occupied the greater part of the past history of the race. All the relationships of the time must have, he feels, the same mark upon them. Every tendency in ethics, every prin- ciple in politics, every instinct in art. every ideal in religion, must have some relationship to the omnipo- tent governing principle of the ascendency of the present which has hitherto controlled the develop, ment of the world. And the highest outward ex- pression. m which all the tendencies must meet and culminate, wiU be. he realises, the military State bounded in it. energies only by the resistance of others, acknowledging no complete end short of abso- -ute domimon, staying its course before no possible Ideal short of universal conquest. Now we can never get to the heart of the two last and greatest civilisations of the ancient world until we understand the nature of the pecuUar and exclusive significance to be attached to the central fact upon which they rested, and from which pro- ceeded the governing spirit of the ancient State in all Its phases. This was the institution of exclusive »> ASCENDENCY OF THE PRESENT ifij dtiienriiip. The deeper we get in the hUtory of the Ureek and Roman people* the more clearly do we •ee how the whole fabric of the ancient civilisations, nsihtaiy and civil, legal and religious, is ultimately retated to this institution. The military ideals of tte State; the conditions of land tenure ; the relation of the units in a military organisation of society • the attitude of the Greek and Roman peoples throughout their history to slaves, to conquered races, and to all other nations; the prevailing standards of conduct- the Ideals m public and private life; the standpoint ^ that remarkable product of the ancient worid. the Roman tus civiU ; and last, but not least, the signifi- cance of that epoch in the history of the world in which we watch the Roman ius civiU being slowly •uperseded by the ius gentium, without any influx of newlife to a type of social order which was organi. «dly united to the forms under which the spirit of the o d tus cxrnU expressed itself ; _ can all be fully under- «ood only when we have grasped the inner signifi. worid. '"**'*"*'°" °f citizenship in the ancient Throughout the ancient civilisations from the earliest times the institution of citizenship was, to use words of Mommsen. "altogether of a moral- religious nature.". What, therefore, in the first place, was the origin and character of this moral- rehgious bond to which the entire constitution of the ancient State -moral, political, and military- was m the last resort related ? When we regard attentively the present state of ^ ^onim«»-. But«y <,/g<^, .«^,(«j ^y ^ p ^^^^^ ^ .^ !«♦ m ^""STBIUJ OVmSATTOIf CMUb ■cter or «„.- f '™"v ">«««ts of « material char- •yitem. of belief in th.-.T i. ^^^""^ ''•*' ^ *•»• 2 idea. .nd'lSc;i%SX'yj • «Hc. brought into a Mt«t. „» . '** uidividnal i* •veormatSnt^it !,!».""''•"'' *•"""«" '">«»« dmlo^ ii«tod7i»w «d ««nt in th. hhta, rf ,,h^^ AacmDBMCY OF THE PRESENT 1«S gruped with equal readiness by the mind. Through aU the systems of religious belief included in thU lower category there runs also a feature which 's charactenstic. It is that the great object ',( .h- rehgion is held by its adherer.ts to be that of bt ,f' mg material advantage in the present ime 'v ihoi.- observing its rites and ceremonies. It is aro,-T,-i fy^ material interests of the existing individuals - ^iie present time that the whole cultus of ♦ .e reli- r. tends to centre. The characteristic ana consima feature of all the systems included in this categ<,r/ IS, m short, that the controlling aims of the reU-i .,'. consciousness are in the present time. The profound significance of the transition which IS indiaited in the development from the lower to the higher of these two categories of religious belie£ u evidently closely related to that of the law of the two great eras of social evolution, referred to in the last chapter; in the first of which we see the Individ- ual being subordinated simply to the existing social organisation, and in the second of ^rtiich we sea society itself being subordinated to a meaning which transcends the content of all its existing interests Now when we look closely at the religious systems of the Greek and Roman worlds two facts are appar. ent In the first place, it is immediately perceived that these systems belong to the category in which the religious consciousness is related to ends which express themselves, for the most part, in the present time. In the second place, it may be perceived on examination that the governing idea of the systems — to which all other ideas stand in subordinate reia. tionship—is that of an exclusive religious feUowship, 166 ^™STERN CnaUSATKW M which all the members of the community or of the n all the religious systfms ofthe and^t " Sl't ri' T '""^ '=°""P«°" ^ exclus ve JSshS — the fundamental fact of the Greet .nlio'^ civilisations -proceeds It i/^K ,■ ^"'"'^ wi,,* /u T °' "e ancient world were related in the ancient c v lisationa wer*. n«f "''^nsiiip b« i^^ined. in any warpLX rihe' ^fyS and Latm communities. They were Zl„^- associated with an organisation Z socfety w^ch Z common at the time to a vast numw « • m ASCENDENCY OF THE PRESENT 167 Now, in the light of the modem tendencies of research, it has come to be seen that we have un- doubtedly in the religious systems of Greece and Rome nothing more or less than a highly specialised form of a religious phenomenon which has profoundly influenced for an immense period the history and development of nearly every section of the human race ; namely, the institu ion of Ancestor Worship. At the present day, as the course of modem research brings slowly to light the conditions under which the first advances of the race towards a social state were made, every student of the early institutions of man- kind finds himself brought into continual contact, and at a multitude of points, with the subject of Ancestor Worship. On all the peoples who are play- ing a leading part in the world nowadays, on a great number even of existing social institutions, and on nearly every religion. Ancestor Worship appears to have left its mark deeply and indelibly impressed.' When the evolutionist comes to take up for him- self the question of the significance in human develop- ment of the immense range of phenomena connected with the institution of Ancestor Worship, he soon becomes conscious that it is impossible to accept as sufficient those more or less trivial explanations of the origin of the institution which prevail in the literature of the time, and of which Mr. Herbert Spencer has hitherto been regarded as the principal ' lu influence may be traced, ever in the pretent day, on tlie beUofa and social customs of peoples so far apart as the existing Chinese, the Semitic races of the East, and the Celtic populations of the British islands. Cf. Tht Stnulurt of Greek Tribal Society, by Hugh E, Seebohm, p. 19. 168 WESTERN OVIUSATION I CBAF. relation to .supZ^iJj!, •"'"'! "* ^'r «»« « jective fane/ ^1 ^ ^' *" '"'""'n »<> a sub- other and altogethtT'^r""''^'' """' "*"'= '^»« A P-no.enoft^,n";eSS^-t ^^^^ which. wiU.o.cLdt^^l'^^trd"" "• '»-'«'^«»2 •ill. d«au The beUef Z^X^W t" ■«* """o 1-ck « .U- W.™ the Chi., „ „„ iX'^rf^^ ^f:^- "J •"riS'e^ twe during hU life, hi. mirft i, hddT» . *" "" "^» ^^ » tte root of lOl «i.H.g rc^onT^r^ """ "^""^'P '«'»«• «^. ««i»« cat Z ^^T'Z.^^'.^rZ'-^!'^"--"-^- go* ; punng to the donhl. -i,: v """" *■"« the dream ni>. from thVZt, .ap^ b J : if" ""' " """' ' •"'"'^ glio*. which «i, ^^„'' '" ^? • »»»^'«7 iccond life, ,' •U worAip of ftrde«i,T1 " 't fiT !" -™ " comprehending root of eveiy •tU^Tcj^j!^'"^''''' '""'""" Wonhip to b. tta «jr reugion (^PrtnafU, o/SpchUgy, {§ 68-207). ASCBWDENCy OF THE PRESENT 169 « scale, and which ha» undoubtedly played so im- mense a part in the evolution of early society, must be related to some constant, deep seated, and uni- versal principle of social development, different in kind from any of which account is taken in the comparatively slight explanations just mentioned. What, then, is this principle of social develop- ment ? There can be little doubt as to the character « re- Worship,' „„ ie on':!*" anVL ?' °" °' ^"»*°' the other. "* '"" *»'"'»«>■ Past, on find thetlmhT™ hrfd t 'T."''"* °' *''^^«'«'''. "« bership of the CTo.,n u i? ^' 7 Pnvilege of mem- i«=alousVe«„tiS. P Adl'f^'' T"' '^''^ '""^ "">« almost impossTwe or i^aTt'? '™"' ""= ""'^''o « the most .^e and «ceptioL^ • ^""'""^ ""'^ "»«»« tions ; and the the^ ^!?f circumstances or condi- theg;oups LtvSlStVoS T.*"""'" '' which is attachedTSous ^U fi""'''}'" ^'''P' *° importance. *^ «gnificance of the first ca^'j^oo::iE^«^--ofthissi^ifi. source from whence spriLtTheen'r '* ""'^ "'^ of citizenship, with its \v.?r , """ <=°"ception its unexampLlVulS -i;^^'^ '^T'^ potency and efficiency as a pl^J^^Tr'''"''^ lution. The tribal groups, it has £n 7'" '^°- gious communities of ?he str^cte^^ '^'^' T '"''■ relationship. of the communit ^sto .£^- ,^"' ^ are worshipped is always the same Th'!: "'^° invariably apoear a, »L/ ?^ "''*** ''^'ties y appear as gods or deified heroes, from ASCENDENCY OF THE PRESENT 171 whom direct descent is claimed by the whole group. This is the origin of the conception of blood-relation- ship, to which is attached a religious significance of the first importance. It is from this conception that there springs, naturally and inevitably, the institution of a citizenship to which is attached a sense of exclu- siveness and of superiority to all outsiders which is almost beyond conception at the present day.* As the deities worshipped are supposed to belong to the community alone, to be its protectors in peace, and its associates and leaders in war ; there springs inevitably from the conception of common descent from deified ancestors a system of morality the exclu- siveness of which it is almost impossible for us to fully realise ; a system of morality in which there is to be distinguished a feeling of obligation to regard all outside the tie of the resulting moral-religious citizenship, as not only without the pale of all duty and obligation, and beyond the range of even those feelings which to us seem to be the outcome of a con- ception of a common humanity ; but as persons whom it would actually be a kind of sacrilege to admit under any circumstances as equals. The enormous political significance of this concep- tion will be immediately evident. During the whole period of the history of Greek and Roman peoples, it may be distinguished, accordingly, that there are 'The visible evidence of the ponewon of tribml blood, and »t « later itage of citiien«hip iu the Greek States was, accordingly, to nw the exprenive words of Mr. Seebohm, "the undifputcd participation, as one of kindred in the common religious ceremonies, from which the blood-polluted and the stranger-in-blood are strlcdy shut out" (J'ht Smuture of Grtik Tribal Sociily, by Hugh E. Seebohm, p. 4 ; see also Fowler's Oty-Stai. of the Greeks and Romans, pp. 48-33). wm^f ^^« ifa WESTERN aVajSATION il I CHAK ^t.o„.hip in the State." ^Down to itm^LSS l^tc penod in Roman hutory we may tnwe h^^Z ^XXT^d'or^He Ro^^^.'^'^^r ''■'" by Profes«nr r.in • . . ^°"»»°»' »« words used onh^Srn , *P«»k«K0f the idealised genius Of the Latin peoples in the last days of the vLt^ «.p.«. "In every .t, „" ?^. tij^ B»«M.d«i' p«M rf,ow. it, Stite Md ptve it io dienitT If !" "»"~"'»'" -Mde the ASCENDENCY OF THE PRESENT tn which aurrounded the poMCMion of the privileges of tribal blood and the title to citizenship can hardly be exaggerated." > Throughout the Greek States the bond of citizenship was everywhere regarded as one possessing deep religious significance, this signifi- cance, we may distinguish, being always accepted as resting on a supposed blood relationship, "the citizen inheriting with his blood responsibilities towards the community into which he was bom, as towards a larger kindred."* The exclusive and absorbing demand of the claims of this larger kindred on the whole moral and reli- gious nature of the individual altogether exceeded, in the ancient world, even the highest modem ideals of duty and obligation within the circle of family rela- tionship. We may obtain some idea of the peculiar religious sanctity attached to the bond of citizenship, and of the spirit which pervaded the fabric of the ancient State, from Cicero's assertion that no man could lay claim to the title of good who would hesiute to die for his country ; and that the love owed by the citizen towards this larger community of which he was a member was holier and more profound than that due from him to his nearest kinsman. Whatever other characteristic may be expected to be associated with, or to proceed from, such a type of social organisation, the evolutionist at once distin- guishes in it its significant feature. We have repre- sented therein the most potent principle of military efficiency which it would be possible to conceive. Under no other type of social order could the prind- » T»t Sirmhtn »/ Grai Trilal Scciily, fay Hugh E. Seebohm, »74 WESTERN CIVmSATKW CMK the ideal o^ conques" bv a ^1'°'^ "' '"^'"^ ^""Jd conquer, lead wS-r T '^P'" """"^'^ ««ed to •cale. '^'''' '° ~»'1"«' on a universal tion, of G^e I^d R "^ "P'^"* the civili,^ otheramid'^^Va^Jota «;rr;^« "T "«=" sant warfare the wh^i- ^' **"=" of incea- finds anywhere di»cIos«7in '^ [ ^^""""^ *''^" »»= of these%ivi«sat;ns Arth^H'^^r'"*'^'' "'""'^ which he has spread befot. ^""^ ^'^'"^^ »«s. to the late fu^°^l l" '"'"^ "'^*'' "«' the essential characteSc TX J: "' *'*'' "" the social orfanisa«on?n^. f ''^^ distinguished blystamped « T^' f""' "'^'^ "°^i"deli- to which'^Hore" tro?uce?t *''" °' T' ^'^'*>'^ words of Mr. Mahaff^'ThefclT'" "''''' '" ""^ won of all details deneJ. ^ *''^ comprehen- Ple. that conside^tlin teTtr ^"f « P""-^'' class and even to i r^IL ,, ^^ members of the pale even the'.r LtS ^ of 1''" "^^""^ '^' as objects of plunder " if. i! ° **'"""* *«^« ' ^WZ,> ,-, <7.«„, by J. P. M.h.^, p. ^ ASCENDENCY OF THE PRESENT I7S uhimately on the same characteristic and vital con- cept as at the beginning, namely, that of exclusive citizenship. As we watch the steps in the transition in which the vanous elements of the originally isolated groups become the City-State. grouped round the common hearth of the State witK an official priesthood and a common religious tradition, we may clearly distinguish how, not only the political institutions, the prevailing type of social organisation, and the existing standards of social morality, but the very life-principle of the State Itself are indissolubly associated with the same charactenstic causes which gave to the original groups their peculiar strength and individuality. There is in this respect no difference to be made m any fundamental governing principle, between the Greek States and Rome as we see them in history In each we have developed, as Mr. Fowler expresses It,' the same kind of polity, in which, although directed to different aims, the same governing principles cany the same form of political organisation through simi- lar stages of growth. In each we have the same con- ception of exclusive citizenship ; the same tradition •* ^reek 'Cfru,^ ^'' people. «iy.ft«fe,«,r "ejUw.^ in the prince oTT^^.w ^J* "*««<» «»« « «l«io». belief i„ ,he ,,^ „, fte^ ~, i« di«i«tiv, of . fcn» of I««« time f„ tho«^ J, 7. ^^"^ •^"■"^ '» »fc* of the religion, t!«t »- CirT* "■« I»«aibed ritet nd cereisoni~ ^ " have the „„„ object of it, irfHeraitfc^^ 1 ASCDIDBJCy OF THE PRBSKNT ijj Fowler, "believed in certain great deities whom thev ^1. f ' ''f "^'"^ ""^ ">«'' fortune?: S ^h looked on thew deities as localised in their aties. M belonging to none but themselves, and as majpable of deserting them e«ept a. a coSequen" o1 the' idr tT"'"^"' '- »" *»• ♦'•'S" of the Idea, wh.ch prompted the attitude of contempt for those outs.de the bond of citizenship, with "he fundamental^nception of Ancestor Worship i ciS »«.h.p founded on exclusive religious community of blood by descent - is unmistakable ™i, ' •" ■^"''""^ '"=' °* »•"« "-"thesis " mut^^ly exc u..ve States was an inherent and funda- mental prmc.ple.« Much ha. been written in a sup^ so^H^^''^ " '"' '•**' P*"«J « '^hich the V«ad of Roman conquest had brought the Roman nde mto contact with a multitute of foreign peopled when, to use worfs of Sandars. Rome was enS L' "connecung herself with her subject allies^ co^ ^ng them privileges proportionate to their fmp^r- the tus Itaitcum, and last of all, the ius genHum were already amplifying, modifying, and evadlTg th" sTem excusjve spirit of the original ius civih. But th^ evo ut.on.st sees how brief in the life-history of a world-process, wh.ch had already passed its climax, pp.*? '''^'^ °^'^ ""'*' -^^'^•"' "y w. w„d. r„.„, J. C J^et^JX.Ir" ^' '' ''"'°""' """^ '^^^ *"' ^^ sJdSf '"*'**' •//•"'»'"•'»». "ith Inlrodttcaoc. by Thom« CollMt t MKaoeOW MSOtUTMN ItST CHAIT (ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No. 2) I.I IS, 111 111 |2^ 13.6 2.0 ^ 1 1.8 1.6 ^ /1PPLIED IM/1GE Inc ^Sr^ '6S3 East Main StrMt "■ig RochMter, N»* York 14609 USA ■^= (7'6) *82 - 0300 - Ption* ^= (716) 288- 5989 -F» 'llii^r-mf.^.fl.r, 178 WESTERN aviUSATION are these phenomena, and how they represent, not a process of life at all, but one of decay. It was with the spint of the iusciviU that the life-principle of the military civilisation of Rome was associated. The later spirit had not only no power to stay the ebbing vitality of the Roman empire, but it was itself in one sense the very symbol of the causes which were pro- ducing :c. In an eloquent passage of the later period in Tacitus' we have the boast of an emperor' as to the men of other lands that the Roman State had admitted and absorl^ as citizens. But this was not the real spirit of Rome. Rather, in the words of a recent writer, <• she protested, even while she admitted to her citizenship the Greek poets, the Asiatic and Egyptian sacred rites, the foreigners who thronged inside her walls and who ascended to her seats of honour. She detested every society which had not asked her permission to exist." • This was the true genius of the Roman State in the penod of its vigorous life. It was the spirit which had made Rome the mistress of the worid. It was the spirit which represented the inner life of that immense epoch of human development which had culminated in the ancient civilisations. It was the spint which was representative of the epoch of force • the true worid-spirit of the era of the merciless.' matenaJ, but omnipotent present. From the fundamental conceptions upon which the ancient State rested, there was. therefore, almost entirely shut out aU view of these wider ideals of ' T«c. /*«»., lib. Hi. c. xxiv. • CUadiu» in the Roman Senate, A.D.C. 801. « Tie Geniui of Rome," QuarUrly Review, voL cbam VI ASCENDENCY OF THE PRESENT t79 duty and obligation with which we are about to tion AH those activities, for instance, which in the ^nse'ofr* ° '■'"^'°" ''P""« ^^"^ "^^ -dividuL-, !!r«i f '»V«'»'>°°*'>ip to the infinite and the uni! versal tended u, the ancient State to express them i^lves solely in relation to the ideals inXed in "j conception of exclusive citizenship. The entirlcon! sciousness in its outward expressions was rltedto ac mt.es bounded in their aim by the horizon of the aT soiT""'' °^^^"'''^«°"- The sum of individud and social energy was, as it were, caught in the sween of aprocessof which theculminatingfxpressTo™^ S<^ Tyl'^ -"J"''' """y '"^ °f ""■»»« ""ctivit; of trp"s?„r ^ '° ''' "^'-^^^ «^-'- ^- *-• the^whot"-"^ ''""'"''^ ^*'"* '='"'"*=*^' accordingly. L th! « T' "^r*^- «»Ponsibility. and inteL .n the hfe of the individual. In the writings of the Roman political writers, we encounter this conception at eveo. turn. As we follow Aristotle through he pages of the two of his works which, of all the prS ucts of the Greek mind, have probably exercised the widest influence on the modem philosophy of society namey. the "Politics" and the "Ethics." we mj fundamental Idea. It is that the goal of all human effort IS m the attainment of the most perfect possi- ttt.'" ''!\«=."^«''g political organisation. It is the state which is made the theatre of all the ends to centtn'^rrrr''''' ^ ''^'''^- '* ^ °"* °^ »»'« con- ception that there proceeds the scheme of individual iSo WESTERN CIVIUSATION CSAP, ethics, on the one hand, and of political theory, on the other, throughout the ancient world. In all the discussions, for instance, which Aristotle is conduct- ing as to the nature of virtue, we always come in sight, in the last analysis, of the fact, curiously strange at first to our minds, that virtue is conceived as a fom olpohtual activity. Similarly, in all theories of the State m the ancient world, we always come into view of that fundamental conception which pervades the pohtical literature of Greece and Rome. that, to use the words of Professor MahafFy. "all citizens should be regarded as the property of the State ; " » or that — to put it in Bluntschli-s more detailed phrases— the sovereignty of the State was absolute, that indi- Tidual freedom as against the State was unknown, and that the existing political relations embraced the whole hfe of the individual, the whole range of his duties and activities -civil, social, moral, and religious* The enormous military significance of such a con- ception of society, when associated with the principle of exclusive citizenship, resting in the last resort on a moral-rehgious basis, is only fully brought into promi- nence on reflection. The deeper we go in the study of the Ue of the Greek and Roman peoples at the period of their highest development, the more cleariy does the fact reveal itself that the State as organised was a condition in which the principal end and busi- ness of the people was war; not simply from the desires of the citizens, but from causes which were innate in the State itself. It was of :-« t Ic™: dLl to nature, to all against all States." » It was a conHi ^n rf society in which the only limi Tc^n'Test «««. therefore, the successful resistance of others and dltii'"'' ""'^^"'^'"^ «°^ ^'''^^ - ^^ Proceeding from this constitution of the State with Its inherent conception of exclusive citizenshi; ^e «re ho„ naturally and inevitably there arose, tterfo^ civiiisat ons to the imagination of the present tin,,, as the incarnation of the rule of force I wL the accepted position in the Greek State, !. it ■ ! f/i »!,- -_ J r 1 »jrceK autes, as it remained to the end a fundamental principle of the public lawS SnTed Tf":^^' """" P*"°"' »' *"« conquerTb^ ongedabsolutely to the conquerors.' We have accord .ngly. always in sight the spectacle in each LTo" t comparatively small citizen class living amo^,; ^t populatK.ns to which even the elementary rSts^ humanity were denied, and the existencT of which many of the Greek cities the slaves must have con ..derably outnumbered the free population Z although estimates, in which the formerTv; S^ l^"^ .«/ Pcliti.,, b, Widter Bigehot, p. «. •/«, , I82 WESTERN QVIUSATION -aup. made to appear as vastly more numerous thari the latter, arc probably exaggerations, there can be no doubt that the slave population was large in propor- tion to the citizen class." The civiren looked down with contempt, not only upon this population of slaves, but also upon large numbers of freedmen and unquaU- fied residents who were similarly excluded permanently from all participation in the rights of the State. " In no case could the freedman, the foreigner, or even the dependent ally obtain citizenrhip by residence or even by birth in the land."" At the beginning of the Peloponnesian war, the slave population of Attica is put by Beloch,' in a moderate estimate, at icx3,ooo, as 'Cf. An Euay on WtOern CivilisaHcn in iH EuMmic Asfecis {Ancient Timts), by W. Cunningham, ii. c. ii. 'Hiitory of Federal Government (Greek Federations), by R A. Freeman, vol. i. c. ii. •BevSUerung. Cf. Fowler'i City-SJate of the Greets and Romam, c. Ti. Beloch'8 estimate i. the mo.t moderate of those recently made in which the subject has been carefully considered. WaUon, after an examination of the conditions of Attica about this period, sires the following detailed estimate : "Nous trouvona done en ricapitulant : Esclares domestiques 40,000 Esdaves agricolea ...,...' 35,000 Esclares des mines lojjoo Esdaves employes dans I'lndustrie, le commerce et la navigation g^,^ luifants au-dessous de 12 ans pour 40,000 femmes xtftaa Vieillards aa-dessus de 70 ans . . . < qoo To'«I ^g Non compris les escUres publics, parmi lesquels ijoo archers scythes. A quoi il faut joindre la population libre : — „ Mtiq"- ^ En tout, de 308,000 » 310,000 habitants" (HiiUiire de I'Msclavate dttHi fAntifuile, par H. Wallon, t. i. c. riii.). ASCENDENCY OF THE PRESENT 183 against a free population of 135,000. The conditions were the same in Rome.> The citizenship of the Roman City-State was a privilege long jealously guarded ; and the extensions of the franchise which were eventually made came, as we have seen, only with the ebbing vitality of the principles upon which the State had been founded. Probably at no time did the free populations of the entire Roman empire out- number the slaves. Estimating from the Roman cen- sus of 684, Mommsen puts the free population of the Italian peninsula at six or seven millions, as against the slave population of thirteen or fourteen millions ;» and Gibbon estimates » that in the time of Claudius the slaves were, throughout the entire Roman world, at least equal in number to the free inhabitants.* Yet we do not reach the true inwardness of the pnnciple upon which the institution of slavery rested in the ancient State from these facts. It is the custom to associate the condition of slavery with an »Wiih the growth of laxary in Rome the employment of ilaTei peatly iii;rcaied. " Ce qui rejulte aussi, je penie, de I'imprenion del timoignages que nous avona reunis, c'e« que I'emploi de cea eacUves 4tait beaucoup plus rfpandu chez lea Romaina que chei lea Greca, dani U claase ais^e " {ffu/om de I'Esclavagc dam rAnliquili, t. ii. c. ui.). • Mommaen'a Hiitcry of gomt, tia. by W. P. Dicltaon, vol. u. p. 76. *Declint and Fall 0/ Hi Ktman Empire, c. ii. •Wallon, after an exhaustive examination of the condiUona in the Roman State as it approaches the period of the empire, concludes: " Cea Svaluations aonl trop hypothitiquea pour que noua cherchiona \ leur donner par le calcul un faux air de precision j mais il nous semble quau milieu de Unt d'incertitudes, on pent a'arrlter i. ces conclusions, sovoir : qu'J la diminution du nombre des hommes libres a correspondu, g4n«ralement, une augmentation des esclaves, et que ce dernier nombre plus faibk que I'autre au commencement de la seconde guerre punique, I'a maintenant au moina egali " (J/Uloire de I'Esclavage dans I'AnH- fuite, t. ii. c. iii.). 184 WESTERN aviUSATIOM infenor race. But the cultured Greek made slaves of other Greeks when they became his by conquest in war, or by other recognised methods. During the historic period slaves were made not only in contests between Hellenes and barbarians, but between Hel- lenes and Hellenes ; and the fact that during this period slaves in Greece were mostly of outside races was, as BInemner points out,» due simply to the fact that captive Greek slaves were generally exchanged. In later Rome the talents of cultivated slaves became a large source of income. The richer capitalisU h9-\ often great numbers of educated slaves who, at writers, lecturers, bankers, physicians, or architects, often earned large profits, which they weri required to turn over to their masters. It is only slowly, and as the mind is steeped in the spirit of the ancient civilisations, that the real nature of the immense interval which separates their inner life from that of the modem world begins to be real- ised. It often comes as a surprise, for instance, to the modem mind that a cultivated citizen of the Roman or Greek worid could calmly consign an edu- rated fellow-creature to all the unutterable degrada- tion that the position of slave in that period involved simply because the latter had been taken prisoner honourably in war. If, however, we turn to the thought of even so late, and comparatively Ubeial, a penod as that of the iHsti/u/es of Justinian, we have the explanation. In the Institutes we find it asserted that "slaves are denominated servi because generals order their captives to be sold, and by this means are wont to preserve them and not to put >Z,fc» undSUun Jtr Grinhm (EnglWi tn. by A. Zinmei ■). c xr. Urn ASCENDENCY OF THE PRESENT 185 them to death." > The inner meaning of these words, in which there is expressed the stil! surviving spirit of the ancient civilisations, only becomes visible on reflection. The pride, the contempt, the intolerant exdusiveness of citizenship lurking in them is to us almost inconceivable. For they mean nothing more or less than that it h->d been the spirit of the Roman law to assume, as a matter of course, that a person who was at war with the exclusive body of citizens, and who, therefore, was outside its claims, had abso- lutely no right to exist. Any position, therefore, however degraded, to which he might be consigned, had been locked upon, not in the light of a punish- ment, but as a mitigation of the death penalty; and, therefore, as a favour for which he had every cause to be grateful. A certain detachment of mind from tendencies prevailing in the recent uncritical and unscientific past is, in short, necessary to a perception of the full measure of the difiference which separates the modetTi spirit from that of the epoch of human evolution here represented. Comparisons of out- ward forms and superficial resemblances, common in post studies of the life-principles of the ancient dvUisations, are in the highest degree misleading.* • Senri >atcm a eo appellad tout, quod Impentora capUrot Tcndm Intent K pet hoc anrare nee occidere lolent (/luftV. /ml. Ub. i. Ht. ill). The itindpoint in Grote't compuuons it referred to elsewhere. Compare, howenr, Seeley't much more recent itudpoint in many of the lectorea included in his IntrcJuclum to Polilical Sana {t^. lee. »U.). At timet it ahnost teems w if Seeley conceived the fundamental dilerence between our modem cirilisation and that of the ancient State* to be no more than that arising from the larger size of the territory of the modem State, and the problems of government by repretenution inrolred in it. t86 WESTERN CIVIHSATION nut. Fi !' If we turn to Ariitotle's EMics, we observe the highe«t good defined as consisting in "virtuous energies,"" and happiness defined as "energy di- rected tc the pursuit of virtue."* Such terms may be, and sometimes are, even by current writers, taken as if they were intended in the sense in which we use them. But when we look closely we see that they imply, in reality, something so sub- stantially different as to be almost beyond the pos- sibility of immediate comprehension. For, when we turn to Aristotle's Politics, we see that the " virtue " of which he is speaking is merely a form of activity related to ends comprised within the limits of the wusting State; and that even in this sense its prac- tice is limited to a small class. To the " barbarians" Aristotle considered the Greeks had no more duties than to wild beasts. In the scheme of a well-governed State which Aristotle has in view in the Politics, it was ac- cordingly asserted that "none of the citizens should be permitted to exercise any mechanic employment or to follow merchandise;"' and yet further, "if choice could be exercised, the husbandmen should by all means be slaves."* The reason given for these ideals reveals at once the vastness of the interval which separates us from the author. It is that all these classes must be excluded from the pos- sibility of being virtuous."' They have no part, that is to say, in the principles which are assumed tc uphold the privileged life of the selert body of persons constituting the exclusive State. It is the ' EAia, i. and X. *Il>id. • Politics, vii. \x. */iia.yiLx. » Jhd \a. ix. ASCBNDENCY OF THE PRESENT 187 practice of these principlei, by those whose interesU they exclusively concern, that constitutes virtue. In all the discussions by the Greek writers aa to the highest good, alike in politics, in ethics, and in religion, the one fact which we have continually to note is the prevailing absence of the conceptions which spring from that sense of relationship to the universal and to the infinite which so profoundly affects the higher thought and action of the modem worid. In Plato's Republic the ideal State and ije individual, exclusive and privileged, are only mul- tiples or reflections of the qualities of each other. The horizon of desires related to the ascendant present IS the horizon of the ideal life of each. The fact, which may be distinguished in any of the character- istic V options of the Republic (as. for example those 11. the fifth Book) is that the meaning attached to all qualities and institutions — to individual virtue, social morality, the sexual relations, and even to the rights of life itself— falls completely within these limits.' It is not, of course, to be expected that in a period of the world's history, when the first epoch of social evolution was soon to merge into the second, that conceptions of relationship to the infi- nite and the universal should be absolutely unrep- • One of the prupouli under ducnnion it the beit method of bear- ing chUdren to the State. Th.t for which tpprowl is clumed i> that woman in the ideal Sute .hould bear children to the State to the age of ^, the man being bound to the age of 55. After thia the sue* were to be free to foUow their own inclinations. If chUdren were afterwards conceived they werf not to be brought to the light, or if brought forth, were to be a\ led as creatures for whom no provision wu made (Jitp. v.). tn WBTERW OVIUSATIOK out. mented in th, thought and litemture of the Greek to keep clearly ■„ view i. the fact, that to far at .uch Wea. existed, they liniply had no relationship to th« principle, upon which «>ciety was constructed. The key to the comprehension of all details is the one ^r» u,*v""''"'^'"« wsumption that the ideal end. to which consciousness related were in the present time, and . jmprised within the narrow limit, of the aswciated life of the existing body of citizen.. thll ""y- •",~"»«l''«<:e. «lway. be distinguished that lu the last resort the military ideals overlie «.d overrule all others. The consistent and grow- ZJZt'X ° !'* ""^'™ 'f^'' •>" been to ennoble the ideal of work. But it was the busines. «rf wv and of government, which alone was ennobled wh ch wa. t, sister of freedom. Every occupation which required it. follower to work and to rS ^L'^ ^T "^l^ ~°**"""- " «'*^« «» differ- ence that the condemnation might and did include M its .weep the greatest architects, painter* and Kulptor. that the world ha. ever ^riS^' To ciSfenl of i?"'^ clasm worthy of re^-ect were the citizens of apnvileged and exclu.ive order of society State with a large number of mechanics and few Midlers be considered could not be great.* TOtinp. So«eUm«, » in Ari«otk, /%««.,, vii., i, i, ™ ^,7 'Politic,,^ >md. A8CEKDENCV OF THE PRESENT 189 The deeper we continue to get beneath the surface the more fully do we realise how all-pervading was the influence of these governing principles of the life of the ancient State, and how absolutely they controlled the expression of its energies, even in directions where their action is as yet, as a general rule only imperfectly perceived. To many modem authorities, for instance, it still remains one of the remarkable facts of history, unexplained by the geo- graphical and similar theories of Montesquieu," Cousin, Freeman, and others, why the limited popu- lations of the Greek Sutes should have reached a standard of excellence in nearly every form of art, which has since remained not only uisurpassed, but unapproached by any other section of the race— a standard of excellence so extraordir arily high, that the deeper and more scientific tendencies of current research have, on the whole, hroug'c with them no senous dUposition to question the view that Greek genius attained therein almost tf . highest limits of perfection. The counterpart of tt e problem, equally striking, has been that the Ro .=.1 people, sprung from a stock nearly related ethno) ,.ically. developing the same kind of polity, and attainiug to the greatest example in history of military rule and ordered admmistration, should yet have displayed no rorre- sponding excellence in those respects in which the Greek genius reached the very highest level of perfection. What we begin to see now, however, is that the explanation of this problem must be considered to • v."?* •"''^''"' ""«">" 1>«« been expansion! of Montetqnien'a m Dt tE^rit a WAtf u Artr by LeoTobtoy, tn. from the Rnsmn by Aylmer Mande. Compue also Nictache's Ta* Ca« o^ Wj^wr. Atreg*rd< ASCENDENCY OF THE PRESENT 193 the modem world," says Professor Gardner, "is it harder to realise the conditions of Greek art than in current England and the United States." A recent art critic makes practically the same statement, ex- tending it, however, to the Germanic peoples gener- ally, amongst whom it is stated that the lucid Greek and Latin spirit has now come into permanent con- flict with a quality which the writer endeavours to describe as "a haunting sense of the infinite " 1 We see, in short, that this conflict is not imaginary or transient, or simply racial or local, as it is some- times stated to be. It is actual, permanent, and growing; and it arises directly from a deep-seated pnnciple of our social evolution ;— from the fact, that 18 to say, that in an epoch in which the ascendency of the present is being slowly overlaid by a higher master-principle of the evolutionary process, the assthetic feelings and emotions, which in their intens- est eatpression are related to the epoch of the ascend- ency of the present, are no longer free to utter themselves as under the unrestrained and culminating' the drtma the inflnence of the coiffict may be tr«ed Id recent EnglUh bought m Bemwd Sh.w'. E«a,, on Ibsen «d Wagner, VWUto Archer's dramttic criticunis, and the writings and addresses of W L 0>urtney, H. W. Masdngham. and many other writers. See al^i in Uiia connection Professor Dowden-s "Puritaniam and Englid, Litei.- ture," Contemporary R„iew,'Ha. if,'^ 'This is but «.other method of expressing the conclusion arrived at m the foregoing pagei Where amongst the Latin peoples of to-day other standards preraU in art, the due is to be sought, the same writer reoarlo, in the fact that the Latin methods proceed from the deeply rooted belief that the K«iri life of man, ,-.,. in the State is a. ',« ^' "''«« "'lU«tions, the end of the greatest consequence t^ 4a (. llie Superflaon Critic," by Aline Gorren, the CmUtr, Mapmm4, l; 194 WESTERN aVIUSATION OUT. conditions in which Greek art flourished. The wide interval which, in such circumstances, separates the modem world from the conditions which governed the expression of the asthetic emotions in Greece, may be estimated from many points of view. Of all the master minds of the Greeks thit of Plato was probably most influenced by those ideas of the infinite and the universal destined to play so great a part in the subsequent development of the world. Neverthe- less, when we see Plato, in one of the Dialogues,* attempting to interpret conceptions of this kind through forms of aesthetic expression related to the unrestrained standards of his time, the result, although producing no sense of the unseemly in the Greek mind, is to us so inexpressible that the real meaning of the images used is never openly discussed in modern literature. In the epoch of Greek art it was, in short, ;. canon in keeping with every fundamental principle upon which society was constructed, that to the artist it should be "one of the first necessities of his nature to utter in some visible form his strongest emotions." It was the natural and legitimate effort, according to the standards of the time in every other direction, for self-consciousness thus to rtJise itself unrestrained in its highest potency in art ; and solely for its own sake and satisfaction. The standards in art were, as it were, but the highest expression in Greece of the universal standards in the era of the ascendency of the present ; and it was, in the condi- tions which prevailed in the Greek world, and in these alone, that the aesthetic emotions, having their roots in the past experience of the race, could attain their W ASCENDENCT OF THE PRESENT jgj %he^t_r«ult, and ,«ch their culminating ,tagc of rendered the Roman empire the culminating phase th^tLri ™''»««»t"'g paase in which art. for the time being, attained to what has been describe! as almost the highest limits of perfection l„ "S TZT' !" ** P-^e"- of th^contrigX? pie we have been discussing throughout. Under each fonn we have but reached the hfghest point : 2 epoch of development in which all human energies endeavour to find their most unrestntined and K ful expression in relation to existing ends; of thaJ long stage of human evolution in which the deSl of every human desire included in the ascendant P;«^. tended to reach some form Of culn!;;!?; thJ^at'^T**"*' f "* ^^^ »«"• *••« principle of the ascendency of the present which carries the «qu«r .nto the inner meaning of every deta"" he £ i t! ^""T' T^'"'"^'^"- '^^ "^^^dness of ctn w^Hh" Tn ^T' *" '""'^'^ '''h the an- cient world. IS still often explained as if it were ards of public law and order. But we see that there cond"it °^f ^'"'"' "'P'^"*«°" than thS^ In": less ir "{T'"'"'''"' '" ""'*='' «^« ''« no' "i^Ply of less account, but in which the lives of children L oJ rte ™ *T "' ""' "'"°'"**' '^"P*'^'^' e^en to death, tit ^ *"?' '^'''' '" 'hich the absolute rights the Roman jtefr*. poUstas. and those of the husband 196 WESTERN CIVILISATION "( y •uch aa the Roman manus involved ; in which the exposure of children and infanticide were usual piac- ticea which called for no condemnation ; — we are in the presence of principles which mark not simply a difference of degree, but one of kind from the stand- ards of the civilisation of our era. What has to bs noted is the complete absence of that assumption, deep, potent, and all-pervading in its effe-^ts, which underlies all the outward standards of the civilisation of our time — the assumption that, in the last resort, the life of the individual is related to ends and princi- ples which entirely transcend the objects for which the political organisation around us itself exists. The same difference in principle underlies all forms and institutions which, because of common names or outward resemblances, are often compared with those in the civilisation of our era. In the hard- fought struggle for liberty in all its aspects, which has projected itself through the history of our later civilisation, liberty is often spoken of as if it were merely related to the principles which governed the State when the State, as in the ancient civilisations, still embraced the whole life of the individual. But there was completely absent in the ancient State that distinctive principle which has been the prime force behind the struggle for liberty in ail its modem phases; namely, the assumption that the principles to which individual liberty, as individual life, is ulti- mately related, transcend all the purposes ot the existing political State. It is the .same as to the phe- nomenon of Democracy. The comparisons which Grote instituted between ancient and moderr. Democ- racy — the ideas involved in which may be traced ii n ASCENDENCY OF THE PRESENT ig« through the phue of thought reprewmted in the modern utilitarian movement -are entirely super. ficial.1 It U not limply that Democracy in the ancient world rested on slavery. The difference goes far deeper than this. That de»p-Iying assumption, which may be distinguished beneath the surface in aU the crises of political life in the modem world, and which, in that world, has slowly undermined the foundations of an earlier order of society —namely the assumption that in the last resort we have a duty, not only to our fellowH:reatures, but to principles which transcend all the purposes for which our own lives and the life of the political State exists -was un- known m the ancient world. No sense of responsi- bUity to principles transcending the meaning of the ^,1!^ dWnct fe.tu« of thcK .hidie. i. the .b«nce of .ny r«U» K^ P"«P«>»» »f the meanuig in hum« evolution of the interrj which divide, the moden. conception of the SUte- with thoK rtuid. «d. of conducted duty in the individuj upon which thM concep. don r..U-f„„ the ideal of the Sute in the „cient world. A^ to En^nd, m the ipeci.! deputment of jari.prudence, .pplied the SZo'^'lt c'^'"'"' "'' ""?' '^ -^^ ■"°« '^"^^ '«'* «d .t Uie penod of the «c.ndency of the <.tilit«i«„heorie.of «cie^ m EngUnd (/y„/^ of JurUprwl«u., .860), "conridered th.t .J Human dnbea came within the province and control of pubUc authority . . . amiredly in our prcKnt imperfect itate of knowledge and develop- ment we cannot „y with certainty that a time may not com. when, in «cord.nce with the theory of Plato. .11 the virtue, may be „ enforced." Thi.confiu.on ttm widely prevail.. It is, for in,Unce, impo«ible at the I««nt time to take up «,y con.iderable .tudy in the current political hte«ture of Wertem Europe or America without becoming awilTe that there are in progte« in our midit political movement., enliiting in their actmue. much eamot endeavour and thought, in which the argument aBddi«».ion.tiU proceed., in the hut re»rt. upon the a«4ption that Uie accepted conception of the modwn State i. the Kune a. thrt which prevailed in the ancient world. I 198 WESTERN avnjsATioir SUtc had as yet projected the controlling aims of human consciousness out of the ascendant piesent This is the meaning of the ancient world. When all the details of the life of these civilisations are seen in their relation to the larger process of human evolu- tion, the culminating eflFect, focussed through many mediums, is so unmistakable as to bring to the mind a sense of irresistible conviction as to their essential meaning. Looking back over the history of Greece and Rome, we may see that the characteristic fea- tures are related to a ruling principle the operation of which has woven a gigantic pattern through an immense period of human evolution ; a pattern in which the life and history of these civilisations ar« themselves no more than local details. We See the history of these States now, not as some wonderful and mysterious page in the development of humanity that must be studied with a kind of awe apart by itself; but rather as the culminating phase of that epoch of human development in which the ruling end that is being attained is the subordination of the indi- vidual to existing society; and in which the later governing principle by which existing society is itself destined to be subordinated to a meaning projected beyond the content of its political consciousness has not yet begun to operate. It is the last stage of that epoch in which the con- tent of human consciousness is is yet bounded by the horizon of the existing political organisation ; of that •■poch in which the State, therefore, claims the entire rifehts, duties, and I'e of the individual; of that epoch in which the wnole tendency of hum. . devel- opment is, therefore, caught in the sweep of a vast mm^m' d^i^^mmM .^i:i4kii' wmemm'^^M: ASCENDENCy OF THE PRESENT '99 process, in which the preMnt U in the ascendant, and in which every impulse of the human will, and every form of human energy tends, therefore, to reach its highest potentiality in relation to desires expressing themselves in the omnipotent present It is the cul- minating phase of that great epoch in the histoiy of the race, in which all its religions are as yet pri- marily related to material ends ; in which society has not as yet passed under the control of a meaning infi- nite in the future ; in which, therefore, humanity Itself, however efficient its purposes, however splen- did Its achievements, however transforming its genius, it yet, as it were, without a souL -.'fiv" : \'!^' CHAPTER VII il: THE PAUmo OF THK PRBSKNT UNOXK THB CONTKOL OF THE FUTURE In that epoch of social evolution which begins in Western civilisation with the gradual break-up of the . political fabric of the Roman empire, we have devel- oped from the outset upon the stage of the world the terms of a profound antinomy. Nothing lilce it has before been presented in the evolutionary process in life ; and it is only slowly, and as the mind is able to take in the full reach of the principles involved, that the significance of the struggle between the forces representing the two opposing terms therein is realised. Almost the first conclusion which takes definite shape in the mind, after prolonged study of the development in history which opens with the rise into ascendency of the principles of the system of re- hgious belief associated with the era in which we are living, is that it is impossible to form any true con- ception, either of the reach or of the import of the process unfolding itself in our Western worid, from observation of it in the midst of the events to which it at any period gives rise. The meaning of the development in progress so evidently transcends the limits of every form and of every institution within which itiv exponents endeavour, for the time being, to confine it ; the inherent impetus is so much greater «•«. vn THE PRESENT AND THE FirTURE joi than that which appear, to be behind the event, of alonc-V^ ^"'''' ^™'» '"'='' * "andpoint, look. S^rl atTf '?' '•"'■ ''^ ^ WctenThist; J°J; ttrh^rhirL^rrr^fTttfi out^d appearance the .a^e Tn^n^llS S J^r tii^hr' T "^"^ *»" "* nationalities; J ever, beneath the surface of aU the event, of history the Mme rule of force as in the past. NevertheleZ' ibe future i. no longer destined t^csembrthe t^'' tcTin'Ti^Tptes'Ti fh^'''; y°pp<«^"« ^terestsofthe^'SglJ^dranSetlLS: of «.st.ng society, m the phase of evolution S which we are about to be concerned in the future a new antinomy has been opened in histonr AU I'he interests of the existing individuals, all th^ interests of the ex.st.ng political organisation, are now abol to constitute but a single term in a new andthesTs The interests of "society," as society has Se^o been conceived, are now themselves about! 1^ It ordinated to the ends of a social process, the Z^tg WBrrERN OVTUSATKHT ^ p.i-i of which CM never more be included within the boundi of political contciouineM. The great drama upon which the curuin begini to rite in Western history it, in ihort, one which, by in- herent necewity, mutt gradually envelop in iti influ- ence all the activities of society and of the human mind. For, as we have seen, the enormously pro- longed conflict in which the individual has passed under the control of the existing social organisation — a conflict out of which has arisen all the phenom- ena of law and of government in the past, and out of which still proceeds some of the profoundest emo- tions with which the highest literature and the high- est art continue to be occupied — can furnish no more than a feeble anticipation of the phenomena which must accompany the passing of society itself under the control of interests projected beyond the furthest limits of its political consciousness. Into the cosmic sweep of such a process all the activities of the race in history must in time be drawn. It is a process, the duration of which must extend beyond the furthest reach of the imaginatioa The entire period of Western civilisation so far included in our era, furnishes, as has been already stated, hardly more than room for the bare outlines of the main features of the problem which it involves to become visible in history. When the imagination of the evolutionist is allowed to dwell on the features of that phase of history which opens before him in the first centuries of our era, he must gradually realise to what an unusual degree the elements of scientific interest have been accumulated in the period. He is stand- "» THE rUSBrt AND THE rUTUW jq} taf. M It were, in hlttory. watching the lut wavet of the mUitary m.gn,tion.. that «, long flowed weitw.nl over Europe, coming slowly to reat. They are the ZVL'"^' ""J" ""''='' ""^^ flowed atronge.; and farthest ; and which represent the people, •mongst whom the process of military aeleciion bu been most aearching and most prolonged. He has in sight, as it were, the races in whom the tide of military conquest has reached its flood, and to whom the future of the world is now about to pass: the races who, for a period immense and indeiinitely prolonged m the future, are about to provide and I^h ?■■ '", "1* "'"■''' "'' •* «* "P°» ^'•ich « new Ek *^"'"'«'».'» ''«»«ned to open. And it i. into the great matrix provided in history by the still standmg political fabric of that empire, in which the ideal of military conquest has once and for ever cul- nimated. that he sees these races, the latest and still virgin product of a world-process of military selec- tion. coming to rest at last to receive the impress upon them of the forces about to be unloosed in the In the world of history into which these races were thus ushered, on their contact alike with the political forms of the Roman empir-: and with the products of ^rl ""u ,"f''.* "'"«'* governing principle had hith^to held all others in subjection. It was the world of the ascendant present. It was the worid in which the ultimate meaning that every human insti- tution yielded on analysis was. that, as there was nothing more important than the present, so there was nothing higher than the forces which ruled the present. It was the world where every form of 304 WBSTERN OVIUSATION human distinction and every essential of honour had hitherto rested on force; where a rule of force had made all labour degrading; where idleness was the sister of freedom ; and where the social, the eco- nomic, and even the intellectual life had rested on a basis of slavery. It was the world in which the spirit of anstocracy resting ultimately on force, had breathed through every work of the political genius of the most gifted people the race had produced. It was a world in which a rule of force had culminated at last in the most colossal and ruthless expression of unre- strained force it was possible to reach — an empire of universal conquest in which the chief and symbol of omnipotent military force had come at last to re- ceive divine honours and to be worshipped as a god. The omnipotence of the present was, therefore;, wntten over all things. It was the present that had lived in Greek art. It was the present that had reasoned in Greek philosophy. It was the ruling present which had made virtue and enlightened pleasure synonymous for the individual, which had made virtue and enlightened self-interest synony- mous in the State. It was the present which con- ceiving, m the words of one of the noblest of the Romans, that every man's life lies all within it,» had found the highest expression for virtue in the egoisms of Roman Stoicism. It was the present which, conceiving the existing world entirely occu- pied with its own aflfairs," had found intellectual shelter for its vices under the name of Epicurus. It was the forceful, passionate, dominating present » Mwcni Aureliiu, Mahtatitins, iii. x. • Ct Cicero, Di Nat. Dear., i. 44. m THE PRESENT AND THE FUTURE 305 •m, lived .llltc I, Atlie iMrt.lt, k, G«.k «„ „j ^^■Sr.siir.t-irSB the Roman ius civile; of which th« - '^ the individual was the nVhf f .u ^''P^"*'"" i" the i *''%^"''»'"^«°g expression L the State w*; the empire of universal military conquest ■ of whTrh the all-pervading expression in society ^as' the t? tufon of slavery in that form in which. To extend the descnpt.on of Wallon. the central figure w^ a be n^ s:r;er''''^"''p™^'^«^'''^^--corani£ senJedThJ" f °'*' *"' ''"^''^ '" '"''='' *« repre- sented the culmmatmg age of that long epoch of wants, the desires, the passions, the ambitions of theories !:.'":u.'i.r '^r:^''^^ '» -•'-•> all the of the State, all the ideals of art, all tne "^ 306 WESTERN dVIUSATION principles of conduct, all the conceptions of religion, centred round the things which men hungered and thirsted for in that material and omnipotent present in which they lived. It was in such a world and in such an environment that the evolutionist sees now projected into the minds of men an ideal, developed among an insignifi- cant non-military people in an eastern province of the Roman empire, involving the absolute negation of the ruling principle which had thus moved and shaped the development of the world in every leading detail of the past. The mind has to be able to state to itself in terms of modem Darwinian principles, the nature of the worid-process at work in human history, to realise the full significance of the transition which the acceptance of this ideal involved in the epoch of evolution which now opens. There is no more imposing spectacle disclosed in th.; research into human origins, when we perceive the nature of the evolutionary process in history, than the growing definiticu in the human mind of the concepts by which the controlling consciousness of the race becomes destined to be projected at last beyond the content of all interests in the present ; and by which that consciousness becomes related at last, in a sense of personal, direct, and compelling responsibility, to principles which transcend the meaning of the individual, the present, the State, and the whole visible world as it exists. Far back in the religious systems of early Egypt, while as yet the militaiy process that was in time to envelop the northern worid in its influence had not begun to leave its record in history, we see being W THE PRESENT AND THE FUTURE ao/ tw^^^' TT' "^ ''Sri<="lt''n>l people, who had already earned the arts of life to a h^h state of c" « Z\ J\i ^"I'y''^^"' deeply overlaid in the fh« nr^ . ^^"'°" '^"''= ^"'^ «^°« concepts of the present and the material that are peculiar to the first stage of human evolution ; and it b only thigh the exposmon, of the higher minds thn we S Sn of thT ^'"'"*'' """ °^««™-th. o. the exprei .ion of the first contact of the human mind with that ascendmg process into which the sum orhuman actmties is destined in time to be drawn tinn 'li! ''T' u """ *=°''t'''"«g in the same direc- tion, through the vicissitudes of peoples and race* we s„ the concept taking shape, L the expreS of U growing clearer in the religious systems of the Eastern peoples who have come under its influence the record of the growth and purification of this con- cept is presented in the history of the Jewish peopte e^ntifi^ ?'"'^ •" "^'' ' phenomenon of theSS entific interest ; namely. tOe development of an utteriy opposing principle to that full, vigorous, and intense «press.o„ of the ascendency and efficiency of li fc,.^ ^ts tmin errupted play in the present, which was to reach its climax in the Greek ethos. Wc see the Hebrew spint. in some of the finest passages in the iterature of the race, rising in sup^rioTLfZ^u^ corn to aU the works of an existing world restSg on force. In the vision of universal justice which haunts the consciousness of the Jewish people throughout its weak, the dismherited. that become all that the gifted. ao8 WESTERN aVUJSATION CBtf. i' Hi ii in the noble, the darling aristocrat of strength and per- fection in the present are to the Greek, We follow the development of this conception in Jewish history till it grows greater than the nation, greater than all its present, greater than the race itself; till associated at last with an ideal of self-subordination and self- abnegation which has burst all the bounds of the present and the material, while it has become touched with the profoundest quality of human emotion, it goes forth in the first century of our era to subdue that world in which the principle of the ascendency of the present has reached its culminating form of expression ; to conquer the peoples able alone to pro- vide for it a milieu in history — the peoples amongst whom a process of military selection, probably the most searching, strenuous, and prolonged that the race has undergone, has reached its climax.' As the observer recalls at this point the principle of development which came into view in an earlier chapter — namely, that no progress could be made towards that second and higher stage of social evolu- tion, in which the future begins to control the present, until natural selection had first of all developed a peo- ple or a type of society able to hold the worid against all comers in the present — the significance of the conditions into which the new ideal has been pro- ' How to recoucUe the two opposing ud Kcmlngly irreconcilable tendeacies sunmicd up in the wordi Hebraitm and Hellenism is, uyt Profesaor Botcher with insight, the problem of modern ciTihsation: — how to nnite the Hebrew ideal, in which the controlling meaning, to which human consciousness is related, is projected out of the present, " with the Hellenic conception of human energies, manifold and ex- pansive, each of which claims for itself anintemitXed plajr" (cf. Snu Aifcts cf Grttk Guam, by S. H. butcher, p, 45), m THE PRESENT AND THE FOTURE 209 jected begin, to hold the imagination. For we .ee evidently destined to become relateH tn ,J- sequence of phenomena i:. Z TutJ^ -a "rir'"'? «uch a character that thou..nds of el^s mit „k ousyelapsebeforeitsfuUoutlineslndr^^^^^^^ become disclosed on the stage of history.* our cMUation U ZL Z°'tlr^'t devdopment in progrew in teic r««lu. Como^ 17 .hf. "^""^ "" "«»' character- consciousnea of the contnuf K.h,- """g""" on the whole a ceruin and in parHcular between ,h. „ "'"'P*""'"' of human activity— of the Greek t^eU^r!!..d'i!/"^ "' '''P*'' <""» P"-"^ tical ideal which a„'ar^„^l ''™'" ""* K"™«' "f ">< prac- th. two peopkf I?tt= iind h« '""•''J- "■' "''^"^ 'y*'^' co,npari«n beUeen the ~«1^ '""T^ '' °P" '° "" '''''• » "lijou. ™te™ "rG-lT . r ""^ conception expr«„ed in the •ytcm. of the Ea"tern wo,M 1 V ? """"' '" """^ ""P"" -e. ^ec,u?:xrr;:th^::rj^T'^ the ^.t. upon which .n.ph... ha. been Uia in Z^^^i^^^ 1 3IO WESTERN CIVIUSATION As the evolutionist, therefore, at the present day turns over the literature of the first centuries of our era, and follows, in the outward record of events therein, the contact of this ideal with every existing phase of human activity ; it must be, if he has been able to retain his position of detachment from all cur- rent theories and prepossessions, with a clear and definite impression growing in his mind. Sooner or later the conviction must take possession of him, that there must be underlying the phenomena he is regard- ing a meaning, in relation to the central problem of human evolution, which is altogether larger than any he is able to find expressed in the departments of knowledge which have dealt with these phenomena in the past. As he follows the movement itself in the inner his- tory of it presented in that most remarkable record of the human mind, the writings of the early Fathers of the Church ; as he then turns outwards and notes the contact of the movement with the Roman, the Greek, and the Alexandrian tendencies in the philosophy of the ancient world, its contact wii.h the mind of the northern military races, with the public opinion of the Roman world, and, last of all, with the political in- stitutions of the Roman empire; and as he then turns once more and closely regards the move- ment itself, with the schisms, the conflicts, the devel- opments which crowd around the low level from which it rises in history, and which almost serve to conceal from view the integrating process of life which is nundr, the relationihip of the religioui sjntemi of Greece and Rome to the gOTcniing principle of th»t prolonged epoch of miUtuy Mlectioa which had culminated amongst the Wetteni racea. TO THE PRESENT AND THE Ftm/RIf I , . art We are watchinV^'^elS h 7^" "' f '""«'■ evolution of life. Wha ever tL ?h ""P?^^"« « the may have taken fo/the h- k *^ ** movement velopments it nav t ^2 !"'^' ''''""'^*^ *•«= "«- future.ofacentSfa5undeH '° ""'''■«° '" '"e can be absolutely „fdlbt^^X"'« ">'!•'' "''"'' '•""« o~!2v:^:S5;^^ rpc%i-Sit have from tSto fmeT„ 1 """'" P"''°"» ^^ich this movement! we are r*'""'"'"" "'™"«''°»t the movement tSBeteTtn .1'" "^''"'"^ »' are concerned wiSa vlt n "i"" *'''''«'' ^« rising slowly thro:^h VrcenE'tnl S^T^"; which is still imn,.- , , ""• '•>* "fe-centre of The timers crwtrlT'^ '" '"'^ ^"'-- discussed in the saJ. • v f^*"""*""" °»"t be the truth, an'd ^S r ■ ItT" '•^"''''" '» passionless indifference To ^n "* ^"''"'''' °f and belief, whatever wJlch r'°"' °'''"'°"'' the ideal, if not the ^ . ' "°^ ~'"« to be work Of sdence n^e,; oTe T^ °' "''^ '^'^''^ ledge. ^ "^"^ department of know- Now we can never understanri -fc„ , . Kra VTOTERN aVlUSnTlOft" CStf. Hi r N 'si to the heart of a curious intellectual phenomenon of the ancient world. If we ask ourselves what wa« the ultimate meaning which the ancient philosophy was trying to express at the point in history in which it comes into contact wi*.h the new move- ment, the reply which we receive is of great interest. If we look round us at the present day at the litera- ture of current thought, it may be noticed that there is sometimes expressed in it the views of a class of writers who, perplexed with the modem outlook, carry the mind back with a kind of half-formed long- ing to the days of that humanitarian philosophy which influenced jome of the best minds in the first centuries of the Roman empire. The lofty moral earnestness of Seneca and Epictetus, the noble dis- ciplined humanity of Marcus Aurelius, even nowadays makes so distinct an impression on the mind that there are some who are inclined to regard the inter- vening period of history as a kind of retrogression. What they seem almost to think is that if the world had only been allowed to develop the inheritance won for the race by the intellect of Greece and the political genius of Rome, it might have ripened down to the present time, in view of a broader humanita- rian ideal; and with an outlook which would have equdled if not surpassed in promise that which the most optimistic minds amongst us are now able to look forward to. In support of th^^ view much plausible reasoning is often adduced. Nevertheless it represents a con- ception entirely superficial. It involves a misunder- standing not only of the distinctive principle which is shaping the development of the modem world, VII THE PRESENT AND THE FUTURE 313 £/ ** '"^ Mfe-principle of the ancient world On more than one occasion in his life Freeman referred with great emphasis to a crisis in the de- velopment of his view of ancient history which had evidenUy left a deep impression on his mind. I„ his Oxford lectures for the year 1884-85, the sub- ject was referred to with much earnestness. He weU remembered, he said, how startled he was when that the age which we commonly look on as the most glorious in Grecian history, the fifth century before Chnst, was in truth an age of Greek decline ' » The Greek mind was yet to produce much of its high- est work— the wider outlook in thought, and that more hun. ..itarian tendency in philosophy which was ^terwards to reach its loftiest expression in Roman Stoicism and in the later developments of Roman junsprudence, were almost ertirely the products of a subsequent period. And yet -to use Freeman's words of the period -"the Greece of the fifth cen- tuiy before Christ is like the Rome of the fourth century after Christ.' What we sometimes fail ^o see of It Herodotus saw clearly ... for the Greek people as a whole all over the world it was an age ofdeclme."' * It may seem to many to be curious that the per- ception of a fact which often makes so little mark on the mwd. even when it is fully recognised, should have so deeply impressed Freeman. We have to > mtfPcrUdi o/Ewoptan Hioory, by E. A. Freemin, r i, •/h^p.ax •/i«p.ai. fe ! ai4 WESTERN aVIUSATION M' I ir I; turn elsewhere to perceive the direction in which the larger meaning which is behind it carries us. It must be within the ^..^vrience of more than one student of the history of Roman law, that there has happened in the development of his view of Roman jurisprudence a crisis which will at once suggest a remarkable relation to the experience of Freeman in Gieek history here related. There is hardly any more striking spectacle in Roman history than the gradual growth and expansion of legal con- ception within the empire, as the Romans were brought into ever extending political and commercial relations with the wider world they had conquered. We see the haughty eivis of the third century B.C. wrapt in the rights, the privileges, and the protec- tion of the original local law of the city of Rome, shutting the door of the ius civile in the face of the world, and excluding the peoples he had conquered from the coveted privileges of the Roman civitas. We watch Rome meanwhile gradually becoming the political and commercial capital of the world, and see the growth outside of the ius c. tie, within which the citizen has entrenched himself, of the ius gentium or the body of laws of the excluded aliens. We follow the gradually transforming influence of the concep- tions of the latter upon those of the former; and the slow yielding of the ideals of exclusive citizenship under the pressure of cosmopolitan necessity on the one hand, under the influence of Hellenic culture on the other. We see the principles, the phraseology, and the humanitarian conceptions of Stoicism being gradually incorporated in the system of Roman public law; viY&t pari passu there is in progress the grad- »n THE PRESEWT AND THE FUTURE 315 Sk"!r.t".t*.!!'* "'^^" °' citizen.hip; until Car- Mlla, m the third century, confer, the eivitas on all Roman subject! who are member, of .ome political community; until Ju.tinian at last, in the lixth cen- tuiy, in constituting eveiy free .ubject of the Roman empire a. .uch a full Roman citizen, .weeps away the entire antithesi. between the ,W eiviU and the tus genttum, and finally annihilate, the fundamental pnnciple of exclusivenes. upon which Rome was founded and developed. The .pectade is, in many respects, one of the mo.t .tnkmg and imposing in ancient history.* Never- thelcM, there must have come to more than one •tudent who has carried his point of view beyond that of the ordinary text-book of Roman law, a time when he has been himself startled by the perception of a fact underlying it all, similar to that in Greek history which so deeply impressed the mind of Free- man. It has been, when the conviction has sud- denly come upon him with irresistible force that the whole development here described in Roman history was not a phenomenon of life at all. but a process of death; that it progressed equally with, and side by side with, the causes which were slowly undermining the ancient state; and that it was in reality, strange as it may seem, but a phenomenon belonging to the same group of symptoms of the decay and dissolution of the life of the Roman em- pire with which he had been so familiar elsewhere It was not with the cosmopolitan principles of the tus gentium, but with the stem institutions of the ius ' Ci. InMtute, of Reman Law, by Rudolph Sohm lOxford : „. "«")iPP-*^4»i Mid 11^119. fll« WESTERN OVIUSATION MVf/r that the life of ancient Rome was bound up. It wa* not to the humanitarianitm of Epictetui and of Marcua Aureliui, but to the almost savage ex- dusiveness of the moral code of Aristotle, that the life-principle of the ancient civilisations was ulti- mately united. Nay more, hard as it may be at first to realise it, we see that if the principles which had found their highest expression in the generous coamopolitanism of the later Greek philosophy, and in the lofty ideas of Roman Stoicism, had been in the ascendant in the ancient world, there would have been no Greek civilisation, there could have been no Roman empire. The tendency which pro- duced the results with which we are concerned was the expression, in reality, in each case of a process of dissolution. It involved a principle absolutely incom- patible with, and antagonistic to, the life of the civil- isation with which the results are identified. This is the first great truth respecting the philoso- phy of the ancient world which we have to grasp in aU its applications. Yet we have to get farther even than this. The development which had taken place in the ancient philosophy was not only incompatible with the life-principle of the civilisation which had produced it It contained no life-principle in itself. There remained absolutely unrepresented in it the principle which was to constitute the characteristic evolutionary significance of the movement about to begin in the worid. But it is only when we turn now and observe the relation of the ancient philoso- phy to the new movement opening in history that we come to understand, on the one hand, why this was so ; and to perceive, on the other hand, wherein *" ™* rumn and thi nnvmt ,,7 char.cteri.tic of he Ch"" » T." ''"""K«'i«hin« cerned are e..entidTrelS We hir" " ~"- that religion u„derlyi„K a n?„h«'. '''""" '" m^w^mh:^. ■■*' 218 WESTERN CIVIUSATION ft thought, and not least where it reaches its noblest expression in the highest minds, it may be distin- guished that the condition of virtue was regarded as a kind of stable equilibrium within the bounds of social or political consciousness. There was no con- ception of any antithesis in the mind of the individual within these limits. The wise man was essentially the virtuous man. It was the business of the wise man to discover the laws of the world around him to which he was subject, and to conform to them. We have seen how the principle of the untrammelled expression of nature in the present was represented in the art of Greece and the empire of Rome. So also in the standards of virtue in the ancient philoso- phy. All virtue was, in its essence, regarded as con- formity to nature. It was, therefore, the superiority of the wise man to all the changing reverses of for- tune, the dignity of the individual, and the equilibrium of the intellect which constituted the dominant note in all the high-r philosophy of the time.* The two great rival systems of Epicureanism and Stoicism were really the same in this inspect. Epi- cureanism in its founder might be held to be shrewd, calculating, utilitarian ; in Horace it might sometimes be taken as rising to a consistent heroism amid the crash of misfortune. But in both the distinctive fea- ture of the virtue aimed at was the establishment of > In AristoUe'i EAta (ii.-x.) tnd Plato's XtpuMic and Dialagiui {eg. Protagoraa), at in the Diictmries of Epictetui (I. xu.-xiii.; II. i., and III. vu.-viii.) and the Mt<'"'» all the ends of the present, there remained in reality the same relationship of consciousness to these ends m all the systems was either avowedly or pmctical v regarded as the end of all things-any beliS to the contrary being scarcely more than a l?£t ext c ing no practical influence in relation to exisdng tandards of conduct-so the Stoical doctrine ohf legitimacy of suicide in presence of misfortune! in ture ^i':.'" "^'"^ "^^ ^' ">«= culminat'g'ea" Snted thel ?"'"' P'>"°*°P''y' It indeed r^prt sented the last supreme eflFort of the human mind to preserve the sense of its own equilibrium and "uiS ciencymtheself.^entredpresent^ForitcontJnedthe only certain ref^geagainstdespairandextremesuffer! •ng. "Re™emler,"s.-;idEpictetus,. is the haughty reply of the Stoia " Let your tormenting irons harrow our flesh," says TertuUian; "let your gibbets exalt us, or your fires lick up our bodies ... We are in position of defence against all the evils you can crowd upon us."» The standpoint outwardly is the same ; but a world of difference be- tween the two is revealed when we reach the con- sciousness beneath from which the action in each case is proceeding. The attempt of the Stoic to preserve the dignity and equilibrium of the Ego in relation to the surrounding world has absolutely vanished. The consuming desire to which the eflFort of the mind corresponds in the new movement is now seen to transcend all the ends in the present to which human consciousness is related. "My God, my life, my holy joy," says St. Augustine, "what am' I to Thee that Thou demandest love from me . . . Hide not Thy face from me. Let me die (that I die not) that 1 may see Thy face." » As we continue to watch the inner life of the movement we see how the terms of the antithesis become gradually more and more clearly defined. The mteresting and significant observation has been made that it was only during the early period of the new faith in Rome that the epithet "well-deserving," which was a usual inscription on the tombs of the ancient Romans, continued to be an inscription in the Christian catacombs. The surviving influence which this indicated of one of the most fundamental THE PRESENT AND TOE FUTURE ,„ we begin to realifehoi e sent J T\''""™"'"y deeper life of the movement , the "I'^T"' '" "^^ has been opened in ZTh antithesis which tionof the inna ean utterTnTuffi'"'- """^ """P" vidua! gradually beco?erSl"tT7 °' ''* '"'"■ as with the banishment of p21" " "" "'""^"St''' condemnation by the CouLn f ^ .'" '»'^' ^"'^ ^is bears down all CosiS "'^^ LrrtTh'" ^^•'' '* world all virtue was re^arH^^ f "'^ *""«"* where |he wise man Ss held tn" ™''^ '° "''"^''• stable equilibrium. Xre i1 l^Jl" ^ %''"' °' r accordingly regarded as disease le are met ""^ by a new phenomenon. We sTe thl r ■ """^ sciousness definitelv conrf!!! • '"''S"*"^ ^on- doctrine that the Svira3brhi: '""^ *" powers to fulfil the entire law anK do"" "'""^ necessaor to his salvation. W^ have a n. ^""7. ^ concept in the minds of mTn Tn "'^*'°"' merely human virtue, however J . "■""•"* °^ '"' m» »n.tio,„„„, i„ ™° SlX >; *" '"■ tmuai all tbc .ri«,w ■ . I"~Pl«' which -d all the -tsSsTrs^i'^'Lrttir conce^on which underlay the'^hrfabrof'tt 224 WESTERN aVIUSATlON OTAP. religious, ethical, and political life of the ancient civilisations, namely, that (rf an equilibrium beti^een the conditions of virtue and the unrestrained expression in the present of human nature, is no longer recognised. Nay more, it is significant to note that it is this latter conception which is intui- tively singled out for special condemnatioLj. It is the doctrine directly contra^r to it of the entire in- sufficiency of the individual in respect of his own nature to fulfil the standards required of him by any merit, however transcendent, which becomes visible as the central and fundamer.r^j principle of thrf move- ment now in progress in the world.* The significance of the position here being de- veloped is unmistakable. The fundamental concept which it involves, as we shall realise more clearly later on, is nothing less than the expression, for the time being, in the individual mind of that larger principle of the evolutionary process, which, if we have been right in the position reached in the previous chapters, is destined in time to control all the phenomena of history. For, by the concept of the entire insufficiency of any conduct, however meri- torious, and of the utter inability of the individual, in respect of his own nature, to rise to the standard of duty required of him, we se'- that we have now opened in the human mind an antithesis which it becomes impossible to bridge again in any scheme 1 It may be lenuiked how the change extended to the conception of the Deity ; Greek and Roman deitiet were not, on the whole, re- garded ai holier than men. " Est aliquid, quo ia[neni antecedat deum. lUe naturae beneScio, non suo, sapiens est : ecce rei magna, habere imbeciUitatem hominis, securiutem dei " (Seneca, EpisL 53). y« THE PRESENT AND THE FUTURE 335 an equilibrium f„ S an /n^ ^ ~"''P' ''^ *"''='' restored mun involve not onr"'"" ''" ^ ''^■" vidual consciousnes,"; thl ;^ ' "t" °^ '^' '"'^•- relationshiptothe cosmictT"?' ""' '^ ''"''' "^ insisting on throughout; nameivS. 1 *""" and all its interesfs is L ^'. ""*' *""= Pi-^ent f<"pl ti— » I. luture and the infinite • w». feel that we have travelled to the verge of thr.^ 7 -ver citenfii>,4 -M 'jtate, how- ^tended. Nay. more, there flashes on the 336 WESTERN CIVIUSATION » mind at this point a first view of the scientific significance in the great drama of evolution of those concepts of the Christian religion, such as " justifica- tion," "salvation," and "atonement," over which the human will has for ages waged such dogged, prolonged, and bitter controversy. They are con- cepts of that character by which, in the epoch in which the present and the finite begin to pass under the control of the future and the infinite, the antith- esis which has been opened in the human mind can alone be closed. They are the concepts by which the human mind has first risen to that neces- sary sense, already indicated, of direct and personal responsibility to principles cosmic in their reach. So far, however, from the antithesis itself tending to disappear, what we begin to see is that its real signifi- cance consists in the fact that, under whatever form it may continue, it is destined to endure ; nay, that it constitutes the growing feature of human evolution, and that its essential meaning involves that it can never be closed in any equilibrium of the human mind ringed within the rim of the present, or within any boundaries of political consciousness, however widely conceived. As, in the light of the fundamental meaning of this antinomy, we follow now under a multitude of forms the long early struggle throughout the world of the new movement with the spirit of the ancient philosophy, it is remarkable to observe how the clear scientific principle underlying it all begins to stand out at every important crisis. We distinguish at once, for instance, even beneath all the phenomena of ignorance and credulity in the time, the outlines to that state of eoV^UK J^ Z ''"'"*" ™'nd and the ZmT^Z^'^''" *''' '"''>^<^"'J formed the chaicteriL!? ''"■".'"^ ^°'''''' ^^ch human institution rhat''""''f r'"'^'^^ ^ which the life of thl 1 *'^'' °^ «"'''«'°n of the highit phi ''t^^^^^^^^ 7^'f -"* ^eP^sented fore, under one fom, or ^ "T'^ '^^ '^P''''''""' ^here- to ;eake„ Tin T to c? '""' ""^ ''"'"P' «'">«' antithesis oSed T« the '."""'^ '"' P'"^"""** ««ningof hSml action "'"'^ " '^"^ ""'^''ing Presentf^andri^t"„tfed'to a?; ""'r'*""' comprised within the limi^ ? . *^'' "° '""««■ sciousncss '' °* '"^"'y P°"«cal con- thi «tnd^Lur2 intr ^^' '"' ^"^'-«- <'^ similar kind in Sh th " S^' ~"''°^'"'«« o^ a losophy under thlfots^froK^'^' '"""'"* P"'" with Christianity we L»v ^ !•?"""""'««'«'' In that contrSyTe S cT«T"' *'" P'^'"'^- tinually expressed tJ^-„. '^ '" ^''^ '''« ~n- essentKt^';/'"?""^^ *° '°'* "'^"t ^i" ^^ the IfaH. aaS WESTERN avnjSATKm ,1 ! I ! attenuate in any way either the nature or the dimen- ■iont of the antithesis, by insisting upon keeping clearly in view the central concept upon which it rested; namely, the insufficiency of the individual and the resulting necessity of what is described as his redemption from evil. In the Arian heresy we have in view a similar spectacle. We see the same profound instinct of the religious consciousness reso- lutely opposing a tendency which made in the same direction. We see it persistently resisting any weak- ening whatever of that main concept associated with the work of the Founder of Christianity upon which the antithesis rested; and again, in the result, we see it once more retaining undiminished the uncom- promising definition of the cosmic nature of the con- cept by which alone that antithesis could be bridged, and the individual thereby brought into a sense of the closest personal responsibility to principles infinite and universal in their reach. In the Pelagian con- troversy, at last, we have the same spectacle repeated in even clearer definition. Through more than a century of conflict, from the Council of Ephesus in 431 to the Third Council of Valence in 530, we have the attempts again and again repeated to close the antithesis. But we have still the spectacle of the re- ligious consciousness set unchangingly against the doctrine of the normalcy of the individual, and, there- fore, against the conception of virtue as conformity to his own nature in the conditions of the world around him. Once more we have the emphatic assertion of the antithesis in its most inflexible terms, in the doctrine of the entire insufficiency of the in- dividual in respect of his own powers to rise to the W TOE PRESENT AND THE TOTURE jjj slowly drawn a! "'^''*'*«'" n°» begin, to be nevenheless. so fundan^J^ ^^d S'l,^^ den that there must proceed from it a sequence of phenomena entirely different from any before wif nessed « the development of society^ "' Xn this change it is always the character of th- developmg antithesis before mentionrwhTchmus! worid. as having no relation to any ends or principles which transcended the meaning of the oresent .1 i pressed within the limits of the%:dstg'Strcot i ajo WESTERN CnnUSATION •cioMneu. The points Bt which the private life 6( the individual in the dayi of the Roman empire con- tinued to come into direct and immediate contact with this principle, of which the right of the State to the life of the individual, and the power of the paterfa- milias over the lives and persons of the family was the outward expression, were innumerable. The custom, however, in which the right of the parent to dispose of his children, even to death, survived in all its primi- tive strength down into the first centuries of the era in which we are living, was that of the exposure of infants. From early time the abandonment, and even the actual putting to death, of children which were the result of legal marriage, but which were considered either surplus or useless, was a general custom of the poor and rich alike amongst the Greek and Roman peoples. This custom, which involved no moral rep. robation, was entirely in keeping with the spirit of the ancient worid. It was not only practised from the point of view of expediency to the parent, but it was defended on the grounds of its utility to the com- munity, and Seneca's dictum on the subject in one of its aspects, "non ira, sed ratio est, a sanis inutilia secemere," > doubtless faithfully represented the pre- vailing average view. Such of the exposed children as were rescued were generally brought up as slaves, and the collecting of female infants to be so reared and to be afterwards used for immoral purposes was often followed as an occupation of profit. One of the earlier results of the changed attitude towards human life in the first centuries of the era in which we are liwng was the diminution, and in time ^Dtlra, 1 15. *n THE PRESENT AND THE FUTURE •-ant from IZLtkft '"».»ittrl» a,^ those softer feelings, that the stock from which thl foremost peoples of the present day are descended "• It was undoubtedly in virtue of this cause tL? G^ »*' r""- '" """"' '«™"» .?i £ L fv"— -^^^ II : H; Ir BMii; ji 333 WESTERN CIVIUSATION ductive of no new principle of life, but that it began with the period of decline, and progressed pari passu with other symptoms of decay. One of the first duties of the scientific observer is, therefore, to recognise in all its bearings the preg- nant fact that the deep sense of responsibility towards human life, of which we have here the first outward symptom and which is destined afterwards to play so great a part in the development of West- ern civilisation, is, at the point at which it is first encountered, presented to us as related to a principle entirely different, not only in degree, but in kind, to that which found expression in the humanitarianism of the ancient philosophy. The fact which stends out at the beginning in relation to the cause which suppressed the custom of infanticide is the nature of the antinomy which has been opened in the human mind. We are not in the presence merely of the result of humanitarian feeling. We are watching the first influence on the human mind of concepts by which human life has become related to principles which transcend all the limits of the present, and to responsibxlities beside which feelings and interests related to the present become dwarfed and shrunken to insignificant proportions. A concurrent first, and also outward symptom of the fundamental change in the standpoint of the world proceeding beneath the surface of society, of which the profounder effects were also as yet remote in the future, was that immediately indicated in the new relation of the human mind to the institution of slavery. It ha3 been a main end of endeavour in a previous chapter to help the mind to clearly realise, ra THE PRESENT AND THE FUTURE 233 Grrj'ltf' 1 *'* ''"'' magnificence of the .entStT. *° ^""•''' *''*'* civilisations repre! •ented the governing principle -raised at last to if, for^s in Which this Uct JprsedTeirVShS ;^.h the fact^laTlelLni^^^SS i^e^han^.rvLTh"? '"^'> -"-"o". « s which m^ tT- ""*'"« S'"""'' ''"d preserve in Which men and their works should supplv the ohil. . and zest of the chase » i Within rtl , • ^^"' thU attitude of f h. ,!^ "^^ exclusive circle institution of slavery -in „hi'l '."*' °«°>ely. *•»« words al^ady used.M c^tj figt^ Jafa'S tf whom society stood absolved from ^Z L^!y^f gation of humanity, and in whom aU thfdeTpJt de^" ^^t..werelawful.providedtheyweitr;nS noticed here also how partial andt:^^ 1'° ^1 Sns™!eT"'r °^ "'^ cLge whJh Tk. B^„inecfa. UiAB, Ag,,, R. w. Charch, p. »6. 234 WESTERN CrVILISATIQN m world, or to the growth of humanitarian feeling. The change in the economic conditions in Western Eu- rope, as the slave system became merged in the colo- nate and serf system,^ was of course far-reaching in its effects. But a brief reflection will enable the mind, when it has grasped the character of the evolu- tionary process as a whole, to see that the economic change, in itself, involved no new principle that could have carried the world a step beyond the ruling con- ditions of the past under which slavery had been a universal institutiqn. The economic conditions were themselves only secondary causes related, in the last resort, to the deeper governing principles of society. Similarly, it was not the influence simply of humani- tarian feeling, nor of any vague conception of the rights of the individual under some imaginary law of nature such as we find traces of in the Stoic philos- ophy, that furnishes the prime cause that effected the transformation in the attitude of the general mind which soon began to take place, and which was in time tr abolish the institution of slavery throughout Western Europe. When we catch sight of the nature of the underlying principles to which the change is related, we perceive that the movement against slavery is but another of the early symptoms of the altered standpoint of the human mind, as the control- ling consciousness in the evolutionary process rises to a sense of direct responsibility to principles trans- cending the meaning of all interests comprised within the limits of political society.* > Cf. ffisiny of Iht Later Reman Empire, by J. B. Buiy, vol. i. iv. iii. • It makei no difference that the influence behind the triniition operated, at it ha> continued to operate in the world, to a laxge extent ya THE PRESENT AND THE FUTURE 2' J From an early period it may, accordingly, be noticed how mcompatible with the spirit of the new movement the institution of slavery became We contmually encounter in the eariy literature of the movement the emphatic assertion that there were neither bond nor free from the standpoint of the new fellowship. The feeling on the subject is to be distmgmshed in innumerable utterances and acts of the early Church Councils against slavery The standpoint therein, beneath the circumlocution of ecclesiastical expression, is ever consistent and un- mistakable. We are always in the presence of the same antithesis, in which the controlling centre of human action is seen to have become related to ends no longer included within the horizon of merely politi- cal consciousness; an antithesis in which the sense of human responsibility now involves a principle, the meamng of which is no longer contained within the Ideal o'; the State. It is pro remedio animae meae, or pro peccatis minuendis, and not in relation to any end for which the State exists, that we continually find the testator of the Middle Ages manumitting his slaves on death. It is not because of any relation of men to any interest in the existing social order, but because Redemptor noster totius conditor naturae humanam camem voluerit assumere, that we find Pope Gregory the Great in the sixth century urging the restoration of slaves to liberty. In the inner life of the movement which begins to set in throughout Europe against slavery we are con- indirectl, ; „d th,t it r.«hed the mind, of million, of men who were Wnorwit of it. ongin. only through it. eSect rightly recog- nised the essential nature of the movement it con- fronted. That world, which could behold with tolerance a thousand forms of religion existing under Roman rule.' but in all of which it nevertheless saw the highest human interests and the highest human Ideals still conceived as comprised within the limits of the State, dimly but rightly recognised that a re- ligion by which there was opened in the humar nind an over-ruling sense of respon,-' " • to principles which transcended all the interesvs i the State, and all the ends for which the State existed, carried men entirely out Leckyi EuTfftan Moreh, im!, i, pp. 449-^6?. »U Gibbon'. /J,f/,« and FMo/tk, Soman Empin, toL L chap. zfi. 338 WESTERN CIVIUSATION ■. it gods openly, and write against your superstitions; but with your approbation. Nay, many of them not only snarl, but bark aloud against the emperors; and you not only bear it very contentedly, but give them statues and pensions in return." It is only us, he adds, you throw to the beasts for so doing.' As the antithesis continues to develop in the human mind, we follow it under a multitude of forms. Crude, coarse and even repellent, as may be some of these, we may still distinguish beneath the surface that they are all> reducible to terms of the same principle. How widely removed are the terms involved in the antinomy, how world-embracing is the character of the struggle inherent in its very nature, the evolutionist, however, only begins to realise to the full when be catches sight of the first working in history of that principle to which prominence was given in a previous chapter, and to which the ultimate meaning of every phase of Western history down into the time in which we are living, continues to be closely related : — namely, that from necessity, inherent in the conditions under which Natural Selec- tion can act, it is only the peoples amongst whom the qualities contributing to efficiency in the present have reached the highest development, that can hold the stage of the worid during the period in which it be- comes the destiny of the present to pass under the control of the future. In the middle of the seventh century the Western world was almost suddenly confronted with the rise and spread of Mohammedanism. Looking at this ^ Apology ^ xlvi. »n THE PRESENT AND THE FUTURE 239 •ystem Of bdlef at the present day in the light of the pnnciple of development we have been discussing throughout, there can be no doubt as to its relation to a lower stage of the evolutionaor process than that which the potentiality of the movement in progress m Western histo^r at the time of its rise represented. It IS not simply in respect of what may be termed the lower concepts of Mohammedanism that this assertion has to be made. It has to be noted that even m the highest concepts of this form of belief there is to be distinguished only the same restricted evolutionary significance which we saw, on analysis ^ to be attached to the characteristic heresies of the early period of Christianity. Nevertheless, in a short period Mohammedanism swept over the vast regions associated with the origin of Christianity, practically accomplishing the complete annihilation of the latter amongst the softer peoples amongst whom It had been bom into the worid. Throughout Syria, into Egypt, westward throughout Northern Africa, and then northward into Spain and France, the move- ment was carried by the arms of its adherents in httle more than a century ; the tide of conquest beine only stayed at last, and finally, in the west, on the banks of the Loire, by Charles Martel in the seven- day battle of Tours in 732. In the conditions of our modem civilisation, where the principles regulating a rule of force are often greatly misunderstood, the extreme rapidity aad effectiveness with which, in certain cireum- stances, the future may be exringuished in the womb ot the present is scarcely ever realised. There are certain simple and effective acts of war which a 340 WESTERM aVIUSATION I . ; * nation, a people, or even a civilisation cannot survive. One of these was that practised by the Mohammedan conquerors ; namely, the confiscation of women. It was, as a modem writer points out,' the institution of polygamy, based on the confiscation of the women in the vanquished countries, that permanently secured the Mohammedan rule in the countries in which it became establislied. For the children of the result- ing unions immediately gloried in their descent from their conquering fathers, so that in North Africa, "in little more than a single generation, the Ichalif was informed by his officers that the tribute must cease ; for all the children bom in that region were Mohammedans, and all spoke Arabic."* In scarcely more than a century, in short, Christianity was almost completely extinguished in southern and eastern countries; and of the five Christian capitals of the world, Jerusalem, Carthage, Alexandria, Con- stantinople, and Rome, three — Jerusalem, Carthage, and Alexandria, all closely associated with its early history and development — were lost; the downfall of the fourth, Constantinople, the capital of the Eastem Roman empire, being only deferred. With these events the conditions of the antinomy in Western history may be said to be complete. It is to the peoples alone who represent in themselves, and in the highest development, the two opposing terms in that antinomy, to whom the future is hence- forward to belong. It is amongst the peoples who represent the highest expression of force in the world, that there are to arise the conditions in which > Winery of Ikt C'» 'i^- a' ^ «n Europe to the Christian religioZ In that fct wj we Charlemagne, the barbarian chief of these «* the nr rSS in WesteTr'' "^*'"' '''^'^ °' -n stm helfto ;: t^rwn^c^Te C^i^^te' eS ^fT *"' "' *•"'* """P'" '» which thHiItl^ epoch of himan evolution culminated -u^^^h^ aicirliighe.ideTeloi)imnL,t.r ?T. V ''™"" '"'™ ««''ed pr«.« to p„ „.,„ „,, ,<,„^„, Jt'-,;;,^^^-'' «» «'.«„, Of the P^''yJ^^. Z^' » "^" "y A- M. F.i,b.i„, o«^ 143 WESTERN aVIUSATION CHAT. If '1 head of the leader and representative of the peoples upon whom the destinies of a new world' had devolved * Many Continental historians, and in England the late Professor Freeman, and, in partic- ular, Mr. Bryce, have done much to enable us to realise the significance ir. history of this act. But to the m>sts rather than represents, that the scientific imagination con- tinues to be concentrated. There is no more pro- foundly dramatic spectacle in history than that of the Teutonic peoples of the ninth century being slowly involved in the sweep of the movement which has now begun to fill the Western world; of Charle- magne endeavouring through the capitularies* to govern, in the terms of St. Augustine's De Civitate Lit,* a world still removed but a little from the back- ground of universal paganism ; of an emperor at- 1 It »u a world, nereithdeu, in which the hiitory of Wotem cir- flintion wu to become outwardly continnoui, and in which no gain nor product of the ciTiliaationt of Greece or of Rome was to be even- tually loit to ui ; even though they were to be taken up, for the moat part, aa disintegrated organic products are' taken up by a new system of life sabject to other laws of vitality. « Ct Tht Holy Roman Empire, by James Bryce, chap. ir. * Cf. Capitulary of Charlemagne, issued in 803, SeUct Hixtorual DiKuments o/the MUdh Aget, by E- F. Henderson, it ii * St Augustine's Di Civitate Dei was the favourite reading of Charlemagne^ m « THE PKMEOT AND THB FUTURE 343 tempting to regulate through the Mi..i Dominici va.t population, to whom the new movemen U rw« T^ , ^y **" J"" P«"«'"«« "^ their patri- «des, the.r fratricide., and their murder.." by S many Chn.t.an people peri.h."> We .;e the Po~ who ha. crowned him Jiving in a worid in which t^ forms, the mstitution.. the very ideal, and the more than pagan. Yet we .ee each standing not .imply on the threshold of another order of civih.L t.on. but m the ve.tibule of a new epoch of h^m^ ^ot Tot XT "«:,^'^.-- -Pero^^ike. eLhT inTxZ '''^'-'•'■^""ng of the accomplishment i^oroVhr^dU^srert"-^----- stm to remain scarcely more than pagan in forms and even in .pint, for ages to co^ th"« hTve been unloosed forces destined never again to ^ umS, V K ^'** V'"' °^ government, and of society, under which men had hitherto lived. The monks of Ser' tL^r^ "T '° ^ ~' °^ ^ ^^^^- greater han the world, and withal a kingdom of the world* They are dreams greater than the •44 ynSTKUi OVILiaATIOM poor dreamen who have dreamed them; nuned in the ipirit of a pagan world, teeing only through its imagei, and thinking only through iu thoughts. But they are dreamt of which no one who haa caught the meaning of the controlling principle of the evolutionary drama unfolding ittelf in human tociety, will be likely in future to mitt the signifi- cance, ""hey are dreamt in which we feel the very pultet of the cosmos ; they are visions through which there runs the inner spirit of that antithesis which can never again be closed within any limits of the State or of the social consdonsness. Far down in the under strata of society we already begin to catch the meaning of that spirit which springs from the antithesis which has been opened within the State; that spirit which is destined to dissolve every principle upon which the Sute has hitherto rested ; that spirit of responsibility to prin- ciples transcending the interesU of the family, of blood-relationship, of party, and of the Sute itself ; which is to enfranchise not simply the slave and the serf, but the sullen, long-bound, sUent peoples; which is to question not simply the right of kings, but of majorities; nay, the right of force itself, that last basis upon which every ideal that men had hitherto known in the world had ultimately rested. It is a world to all appearance sunk many degrees below the level of the civilisations which it succeeded, a world scarcely to be distinguished in its outward features from primitive barbarism, a state of social order in which feudalism — that protest of barbarism •gainst itself, to use the eipressive simile of Hegel — is still to reach its fullest development. But it is a »» THE PRESENT AND THE FUTURE 345 new world; . world like the wr«ck of , nebula i„ •pace, .t. chao. and diwrder invisibly caught in the «.eep of .„ integrating principle infinite 'in «a'h riTS """"'""^"d =POch. of time there ha. co«e iThilh t"H ^'°r1 °' *"" ""'^Kle. .till with u,! tu^^ '"k '^"^ '"'^ '^' ^^ P"*«" ""d inter! vSlv a„^^ "'"'! *" "" "^* »* • '^^ efficiency ZL i'""*"""*'^'""'^'''' '« ^he State. Bu^ to be broken to the end. of an efficiency beyond the farthest hmiU of it. political con.ciou.ne.., we are e^"IfV!"" *^'"« »lowly d«wn. 11 the phenom- tte cont^f r !■""«"* '"'' °^ ^'««™ ««i- ^ aH f a: CHAiTER VIII ■ THS DBVELOFHENT OF THE GREAT ANTINOMT IM WESTERN HISTORY: FIRST STAGE It is now possible for the intellect in some measure to grasp the outlines of the conf ict in which the entire life and dctivities of our Western civilisation have begun to be involved. That principle of the evolutionary process which has been designated the law of Projected Efficiency — under the operation of which, in human society, the present is destined to be in the end controlled, not by its own interests, but by interests in the future beyond the limits of its political consciousness — has reached at last in history the stage upon which its more characteristic results begin to be visible. In the development of the great antinomy now opened in Western history, in which we haw the growing definition through the stress of the centuries, of the present becoming envisaged with the principles governing a future to which it must be subordinated, we have beyond doubt the most important and imposing spectacle with which science can be concerned. All the work which has been done in other fields, in helping us to understand the governing principles of the evolu- tionary process in general, comes now but to sub- serve the main end of enabling the intellect to grasp the character of the development which here begins to unfold itself in society beneath our eyes. 146 CBAF. vm •n-E GREAT ANTINOMY: nRST STAGE 247 nf'^rl-^^^ f" ^°7 '^^ throughout the first epoch S>tate, and of every institution upon which the State and society rested, had borne upon them the impres! of a single fact, namely, the ascendency of thepres- ent In such conditions, therefore, every human .nstuuuon may be said to have consthuted^a kindTf closed .mpenum, in which the ascendant interests and the ru mg passions were those through which the present was able to express itself in its highest potentiality. What we have now to witness if th spectacle of all these closed imperiums, in which the present u;therto ruled omnipotent in thought and action, being slowly broken up by a cause arting on human energies hitherto imprisoned within them are released mto an entirely new order of progress. In toe resut we have to witness toe gradual develop- n^nt ui Western history of .such conditions of social efficiency as were not only unimagined in the world m toe past, but which were impossible under any or^isation of society which had hitherto prevailed As the character of the new process becomes visible It may be seen to consist essentially in the develop- meat throughout the whole social organisation of the conditions of a free conflict of forces; this conflict possessing two well-marked and characteristic features. It is, in the first place, as has been said, a free con- flict of forces such as in reach, in intensity, and in efficiency has never before prevailed in human society iJut It IS, in the second place, a free conflict, the efficieijcy and even the very existence of which is dependent, nevertheless, on a single condition, namely 948 WESTERN C3VILISATION l;ru; CK*r. that the controlling meaning to which human con- aciousness has become related is no longer in the present time. The distinctive life-principle of the conflict, under aU its changing features, is, in short, that, as the controlling principles of human con- aciousness and of human responsibility are no longer in the present, it has, therefore, become impossible to shut up again tht human will in any system of thought, of action, of government, or even of reli- gion, through which the tyranny of the forces tend- ing to express themselves in the present could once more become absolute and omnipotent. It is only as the inter-relation of these two features of the modem phase of the evolutionary process be- comes visible to the mind that the tendencies of the developing type of life represented in our Western civilisation can be fully grasped. AU Western history, down to the time in which we are living, U b-it the record of the successive phases of the slowly widening struggle in which the foundations of the closed impe- nums through which the ascendant present had hitherto expressed itself are being broken up and diss "nearly chapter of the treatise on ^««>./ A famihes ot mankind there has occu3., . which a ruk of law is n^t Z ^^"U'^ "* "■le of relirion" ■» fh- A ""fn^'iated from a a.^y consider that the t.'„s^ron"^-^„; 3S0 WESTERN aVIUSATION tfJinance should be punished by civil penalties, and that the violation of a civil duty exposes the delinquent to divine correction.' It was this stage, as we said in a previous chapter, which lasted down into the midst or the civilisations of the ancient world. It was only the Romans, as Bluntschli points out, who first began to distinguish law from morality;* and so far as the distinction went, even amongst them, it was practically a product of the later empire. The ascendency of the ruling principle of the stage to which Maine re- fers may be seen throughout Roman history in the conception of the priesthood as a political ofHce, in the ascription to the emperor down to a late period of divine attributes, and in the conceptions of the ceremonies and functions of the Roman State as religious in character. Now in order to understand the character of the phenomenon we are about to consider, we must be able to realise that, if we have been right in the posi- tion taken up in tne previous chapters, this prolonged stage of human evolution to which Maine here refers, —the period, that is to say, in which a rule of religion and a rule of law are identical — is nothing else than that stage of development we have discussed at length in a previous chapter ; namely, that in which the con- trolling centre of the social process being, as yet, in the present time, all the ends to which the religious consciousness relates are either directly or indirectly connected with the interests of the existing individual as a member of the social order present around him. It is the stage in which the interests with which reli- *Tlu T»ary <>/ eu SUU,,\tfyYi.Yltaalaieil&,l.m. vin THE GREAT ANTINOMY. FIRST STAGE as I gion U concerned, and the interests with which poU- bcs are concerned, are as yet, to all intents and purposes, coincident and coextensive. The great secret, in short, on the brink of which Maine was standing, and towards the elucidation of which he saw the course of modem inquiry was tend- ing, was, we begin to see now -if we may anticipate a conclusion the significance of which we shall under- hand more clearly in a later chapter-that it has been the projection of the controlling principles of human consciousness beyond the present, which is breaking up all the imperiums through which the omnipotent present would otherwise shut down upon of that free conflict of forces in which our modem progressive societies have taken their rise. As soon as we thus hold in hand the clue to the evolutionaiy drama upon which the curtain continue, to nse m Western history, we are in a position to understand something of the nature of the phenomena upon which our attention is now to be concentrated The meamng of the conflict which underlies the developmental process in progress in the world around us, is that It is a conflict in which the present has become envisaged with the future in a struggle in which It IS destined to be eventually subordinated to the future. But the re :narkable rt^sult we have now to consider is, that the battle-ground, upon which the opening phase of this gigantic struggle between the present and the future is to be fought out in our civili- sation, lies, of necessity, in the first place, in the cen- tre of that system of belief in which the potentiality ot this process of subordination appears to be inherent 352 WESTEKN OVnJSATION The first political idea which we tee developing in the minds of men in connection with this system of belief, is, in short, one in which it is considered that a rule of religion and a rule of law should aga'j become, as in the ancient world, coincident and coextensive. •Now in the last chapter we saw how consistently, and, after long struggle, the principles involved in the new system of belief overcame at last all the at- tempts made, in what arc called the heresies of the first centuries of our era, to bring the human mind back to the self-centred standpoint of the ancient philosophy; and how profound was that instinct which in the early councils of the new religion resisted the efforts that, through the concepts of Neo-Platonism, would have closed again the very an- tithesis opened in the human mind wherein lay all the characteristic potentiality of the future. What we have now to watch is this same conflict assuming another form, and being raised to another plane. The objective which becomes visible in the world in the new straggle is that of a condition of society in which a rule of religion shall again be made coinci- dent and coextensive with a rule of law, and in which there may, therefore, be observed, after a time, the same tendency to obscure that profound antithesis opened in the human mind wherein lay all the dis- tinctive potentiality in the future of the new form of beliel In the resulting struggle around this ideal, almost the entire intdlectual and political activities of our Western world become for the time being involved. -The influence of the conflict has lasted down even to the present day, and is still with us under maity ym THE GREAT AMTWOMY, TOtST STAGE 353 form* To perceive the bearing of the conflict on the process of our social evolution is the first step towards understanding the principles of modem his- tory. Let us see now if we can place the nature of the issue involved clearly before us. In one of hU essays Sir Frederick Pollock brings clearly mto view a fundamental fact of social devel- opment, the significance of which is apparent on reflection; but the perception of which u calculated to come upon the mind, in the first instance, with something of the nature of a shock. It is that in human history theological persecution, in the strict sense, is of entirely recent origin.' Or to put the statement in the more emphatic words used by Mr Ritchie in a chapter of his JVaturtU Rights, persecul tion— viewing it as an historical fact, and apart from any discussion as to whether it is involved or not in the true interpretations of the tenets of the religion now associated with our civilisation — « persecution in the sense of repression for the purposes of main- tainmg true doctrine is the outcome of Christianity." » However startling this statement may appear at first to the ordinary mind, there can be no doubt that, as the expression of a fact of history, it is to all intents and purposes strictly true. The contradic- tion, indeed, which immediately suggests itself to the mind as being capable of being supplied by that vast body of evidence seemingly pointing in another direction ; which is furnished in that stage of devel- opment when the deities worshipped are regarded as the special patrons of the community —evidence of • Nlmal Si^, by D. S. Ritchie, c. nii. i 254 WESTERN CIVILISATION CI141. which the persecutions of Christianity itself under the Roman empire, or of the punishment of religious innovators lilce Socrates in the Greek civilisation, may be taken as examples — vanishes immediately on inquiry. For what we see is that nearly all such persecutions, preceding the rise of the Christian re- ligion, prove on examination to have been really related to what are usually known as temporal or secular ends. There was absolutely no concern with what becomes afterwards known in controversy as the spiritual interest of the offender himself. The gravamen of the charges against the acts or opinions of the accused person, lay strictly in the fact that such acts or opinions were held to be calculated to bring temporal evil or injury to the existing social organisation or its members.' It may be distinguished that this was the point of view even where the acts or opinions were con- demned because they were held to be displeasing to the deity. For it was the tangible results of the withdrawal of the favour of the tutelar deity or 'For iutucc, ia Fhto'i dialogoe EtMyfUrm— in which Socrata b reprcMnted, iftet hii indictment by Mditus for impietjr in introdsc- iog new godi and coirnpting the jrosth of Atheni, u meeting Euthy- phron before the trial takes place, and diKudng with hbn the meaning involved in a charge of impietjr — the general itandpoint of the time in the charge againit Socratei ia well brought out. Socratei' doie qneitioning at hut diiTcs Enthjrphron, who it repreiented at learned in the mbject, to the ttatement: "This, however, I teU you timply, that if any one knowt how to apeak and to do things gntefnl to the gods, by praying and lacriGcing, these things are holy; and such things preserve both private homes and the general weal of cities; but the contraries to things acceptable to them are impious, which also subvert and ndn all things." This was undoubtedly the characteristic position of the time involved in the charge against Socrates. na ™B great antinomy, n»ST STAGE 3SS rare was held to depend that was alwavs f««j T e pnjciple underlying .,, .„ch^s of ^^S ~rLved 'tk!:'" ""''„'"» «""« «>efore.'ber5 perceived. They are all. we see, directly related tn the fact already discuMed at lenglh. namely She ^TZITW' «-"!«-«yP^oce';s is Im ILL „„T ;. conception which we have in- •isted on as characteristic of the second of the two wST/ 5"""° -«""ion-that conceXTn SSLrnt"'-'^ *'""-"- ^ — was n«^hl^ t""? ? ""•=**'* '"* ''»"«'» "ind to have iwhed the standpoint at which the standard is s^ up that those interests, which become known at^ actually more important than temponU interest ~ L7er^t"'"To"',f' '^ ''"'"°" °^ igetherp:::;i^ S I^,. ^ K ^PP«»«''« we have reachedVkind of .mpass in human evolution. As thefull nature of the position discloses itself on reflection, its essemid features on y seem to stand out with more u^com promising clearness. We seem, in the evolution of which there is no visible solution -a problem which must, beyond doubt, give rise to a class'^of phenomena entirely new and quite special to itself The outlines of the situation are capable of beinir readdy gnisped by the mind. They'^may te p"^ sented in this wise. The controUing \^J7f human con«.ousness has hitherto been as we"ave 356 WESTERN OYIUSATION seen, in the present time. But, as has been through- out insisted, by a necessity from which there is no escape, and which is inherent in the very nature of the evolutionary process itself, this controlling centre is sooner or later destined to be shifted into the future. Yet now, as the concepts accompanying this transfer begin to take shape in the human mind ; as we actually see the human consciousness clearly defining to itself in the full light of history the concept that the interests which it has come to include under the head of "spiritual," are of more importance than its tem- poral welfare; there looms out before us an issue more far-reaching and more complex than has ever before been encountered. For, if the human mind is now really to rise to the position of holding with absolute conviction that the interests which it defines to itself as spiritual are more important than its temporal welfare, what must happen t To all appearance there is involved in the very nature of the concept through which such a subordination can alone be e£Fected, a principle which mast again imprison all human activities in a tyranny even greater than any from which they have just emerged. In the past, as we have seen, the interests of the future were entirely at the mercy of the tyran- nies through which the omnipotent present expressed itself. But now, although the operation of Natural Selection tends to be, as it were, projected into the future, the battle-ground, it must be remembered, remains, and must forever remain, in the present time. No tyranny, therefore, within which the pres- ent could cramp the free play of human energies, could ever be so overwhelming as that which appears rm THB GREAT AOTINOIIY, TOOT OTAGE ,57 to prwent itself as lying latent and involved in the concept that what i. defined a. .piritual wdSre i. J more importance than temporal intere«. "* Nay more, we even lee that the more firmlv the conv,ct.on is held by the human mind. that™L i! cabled temporal welfare is inferior to ;hat is cal e^ TT "'"""' ^ """* overwhelming to an S pearance, must the new tyranny become. I„ th^ fir^tera of evolution there was at least a ri^ of form, through which the present expressed itTelf But now. d it is to be actually believed that temS ^hara^' "£"" to «. o^Pared in imponarS wuat are called spiritual interests; then it would in the State, m religion itself, when we stand in the of the first importance, there can. apparently, never i^ichtt.r*'"*/'"* ^""^ ~"«''=' "^ f°^«' out of which the larger future can alone be evolved. A new ently absorb all other tyrannies, and must in the end become greater than them all. S^tK " '"''=\'^P"» to underlie the unfold! ing of the human mwd in our civilisation. No other MidJe A °" ""'''^^' *•"' '«"!'"« events of the mes wUl the solution begin to develop itself? WiU that free play of forces within the p«sent wS Jone «„ emancipate the future, out'of wh cI tS larger future can alone be bom. and towards wh ch ass WISTERN dVILUATICW ,i ■' the whole proceM of human development appctia to have moved, remain, after all, unachieved ? Are the activities of the human will really destined to be thua imprisoned again in a new tyranny t Is the human mind in the end — beaten, baffled, disillusioned — destined to retrace its steps, and to abandon the con- viction that what it has come to call its spiritual interests are indeed more important than its temporal interests? Is it really destined to return again to that self-centred standpoint in the present beyond which the world appeared to have moved ? Or is our Western world, beneath it all, to be carried forward by forces larger than it wots of to an entirely new synthesis of knowledge, hidden as yet from view below the horizon of thought ? As the evolutionist looks the problem here defined in the face, it is impossible to escape a sense of its contuning magnitude. Our whole Western world has moved, he sees, into the shadow of a crisis which must gradually engage all its interests, which must pass through many phases, and which can only develop slowly at the entire range of the world's activities are drawn into its influence. That the human mind should indeed go backward, and, revers- ing the tendency of the evolutionary process, should return again to the standpoint of the epoch out of which it has moved, would seem hardly possible. For when the imagination, with such an alternative before it, travels again over the outlines of the evolutionary process, it is only to note how inherent therein appears to be the principle of the ultimate shifting of the controlling centre of human consciousness out of the present time. The conviction at length only holds nn TH« ORBAT AWIWOllYi FIRST WAGE 259 terthehumM mind cannot go backward again even if h would. Yet wherein lie. the «.Iution ?^owTthe ing r^pon..b.hty to a principle co.mic in it. re^h -to a principle which must of neccity transcend political con«,ou,nes,-and yet be .o occupied with I'e^r "'-"^-'"-'n the play of it'. h^lS power, ? How are we to witness the controllinir pnnciple. of human con.ciou.nes. projected ou "1 he present; and yet .ee opened within the preL activitie. which alone can emancipate the future that unre.tncted rivalor of all human energies .u hi moved? '""'" "' '^'""*'°" •~'"'' '0 •>-« Thi. is the problem to which our Western civilisa. tion ha. to address itself. It is the problem?^ .olution of which there becomes visible in time a SS ference destined at length to divide by a cl^r li*e of denuircation never again to be crossed, the r^^i ulbmate significance underlying all other forms and Have come to express themselves. It is the problem which, in the method of its attempted solution^ b^ m time, even in our Western world, to differ^nSt^ twSl?. '7*'"' ""' P'°j"='"l '"'^ 'he future, be tween the Imng and the dead, between the peoples throu^r^K "° '°"^'. '''°"«' '° 'he future, and those through whose activities and ideals it become, the 36o WESTERN C3VIUSATI0N til' ■ ' 11. destiny of the race to see the main current of the world's history descend towards the ages to come. As we turn now and watch the unfolding of this development in Western history, we may observe how predestined, as it were, by inherent necessity are the lines upon which it begins to move. To every student who has endeavoured to thoroughly master any section of European history comprised in the Middle Ages there must come, at some stage of his work, the same experience. As soon as he has got deeply into his subject he begins to be pos- sessed, to an ever-increasing degree, with a sense of the limitations under which he must labour — however well equipped he may be in every other respect — if he endeavours to understand the section before him apart from the larger organic process which is proceeding beneath the face of Western history. It matters not in what department of polit- ical or of social development, or even in the history of what country, the study is pursued. When progress has been made up to a certain point, the intellect always becomes conscious of the same want. It reaches out towards the comprehension of those larger principles which are evidently controlling the life-process as a whole which is at work beneath the outward face of our civilisation. If we take up, for instance, in the present day, in England that series of State charters, of economic monographs, and of original public and other docu- ments from which the historian of the social or of the constitutional development of England during the Middle Ages has endeavoured to work, we feel at once, when we have got to the heart of the sub- vm THE GREAT ANTWOitY. HRST STAGE 261 ject, that in all these we are but in touch with the outward phenomena of a syrtem of life of which the reai meaning lies elsewhere. The particulars, for mstaace. of the development in England under ex- ceptional! conditions of the ideas and customs of cert^n German tribes; of the local modifications of the feudal system ; of the operation of conflicting racial characteristics and institutions; of the result- mg mteraction in circumstances special and local in England of the various claims and powers of the nobles, the people, and the king; -are all of great interest and importance. Nevertheless, what we feel IS that the real meaning of the forces which are making the history of our civilisation, and, there- fore, the real meaning of the forces which are after- wards to express themselves in the problems for which the history of England is to stand in the future, is not, m the last resort, comprised in these things. There is, it may be perceived, no characteristic cause or principle in any one of them, or in all of them together, which could serve in itself to differentiate, m any important particular, the world in the future from the world as it has always been in the past » It IS only as they are to contribute to the develop- ment of a higher system of life that they are later to become instinct with meaning and significance. It is therefore towards the principles of a larger order of life than these things by themselves imply, a system of life the pulsations of which may already be distinguished even beneath the clauses of Magna Charta, that the intellect goes out. It is the mean- ing of that central problem in the unfolding of the » Cf. Ti, Hofy Reman Empire, b; Jtme, Bryw, p. 142. S62 WESTERN CTVIUSATION human mind now beginning to define itself in West* ern history that holds the attention — chat problem of which we catch sight in the history of England in the ordinance of William I. dividing the secular from the ecclesiastical jurisdiction;^ in the struggle between the king of England and ls-...icet, Arch- bishop of Canterbury ; in the causes which produced the Constitutions of Clarendon ; in the drama being enacted as a king of England receives his kingdom as a fief from the see of Rome ; in the long conflict over investiture ; in the statute of mortmain ; * and in the Bull of Clericis Laicos.' It is the unfolding of the problem in human development represented in the process of life from which these events begin to proceed that is about to control the course of history in England, as in Western Etm>pe during the centuries which are to come. When we turn to follow this system of life to its centre on the continent of Europe in the Middle Ages, it may be observed that the character of the problem underlying the development of the Western world has already progressed towards definition. The new system of belief that we saw in the last chapter undermining the foundations upon which the ancient State had rested, and which, through its action in projecting the controlling principles of human consciousness out of the present, we saw apparently destined to dissolve all those tyrannies through which the present had hitherto expressed 1 Stubbe' Seltet Charttrt, p. 85, and Hendenon't Stkd Hutcrital Docwntnts cftht MiHdU Ages^ p. 9. * Select Charteri^ ra. v, ; StUtt Do€uminis, i. viil. * Seletl Dxumenls, It. vi. ▼m THE GREAT ANTINOMY i FIRST STAGE 263 itself, haa gradually moved with the centuries to- wards an ideal which has begun to hold the imagiM- tion of the world. There is no more striking spectacle in history, when we are able to appreciate its meaning, than that presented by the human mind during the first thirteen centuries of our era, when — in the midst of the races in whom a world-process of military selec- tion has culminated, and with all the instincts, the passions, and the ideals of an epoch of military stress of unimagined length still close behind it — we see it slowly passing under the influence of the greatest evolutionary principle to which life has yet been subjected; when, with as yet no clear Idea of Che nature of the vortex into which its activities are being drawn, we see it struggling with the phenomena which successively arise as this evolutionary principle gradually impinges on the whole life of these military races in our Western world through the medium of a single idea— the concept that the welfare which has now come to be described as spiritual is more important than its tem- poral interests. To understand the spectacle pre- sented by our civilisation during this period we must, as far as possible, detach our standpoint from all the conditions of time and place. Centuries, countries, peoples, races, nationalities, throughout this period in Europe, all present the same face to us. It is the same problem with which thty are all struggling. It is towards the same culminating crisis of the first phase of the problem with which the human mind has now become confronted that all the tendencies of European history are hastening. 364 WESTERN CIVILISATION To bring clearly before the mind the full outlines of the problem involved in the conflict between the temporal and spiritual power in the Middle Ages, as the prolonged struggle between the Emperor and the Pope — which may be taken as representative of all minor and local phases of the conflict — becomes the life-centre of Western history in the eleventh, twelfth, and thirteenth centuries, it is necessary to carry the mind back over the conditions in which the problem begins to define itself, and through which it gradually rises towards its climax. As we first catch sight, in the writings of the early Fathers of the new religion, of the influence of the concept that the welfare that had now come to be described as spiritual was of more importance than temporal interests, the effect on the mind of the individual is perceived to have been direct and unmistakable. There was inculcated through the influence of the new concept a contempt for wealth and power, and all that the world had to offer. The renunciation of the satisfaction of all the desires and passions, for which men had hitherto lived, was the ideal which was held before the mind ; and the sub- jection of the body, the stamping on its passions, appetites and very wants, grew accordingly into the n ■ i). ! agours of hermits and anchorites, into the ulfrtrii.i;-. of almost inconceivably enduring pillar- snint 5 a. d at last, in the early centuries of our era, into -S. ':h - ait-j and ideals of a world-embracing e. ■ ■ I outset. iF .presented, however, but the subjective ne individual mind of the concept at the xc is as the spirit, which lies behind these vm THE GREAT ANTINOMY, HRST CTAGE 265 purely subjective phenomena, moves towards its thi'!!!7/w'"'u'°" '" "•" °"'*'^'' organisation of tte world that there becomes visible the ideal which which all the events of Western history now begin to slowly gravitate. ^ The first question as regards the outward world to suggest Itself under the influence of the new concept must have sprung almost spontaneously to the mind. If now, indeed, spiritual welfare is of more importance than temporal interests, what then, t must have been asked, is to be the meaning of thrs world with which men are occupied ? what i^s to be the character of the ends to which men are coUectrvely to direct it by their activities therein? WH^M ^ V. "^' "^ y** struggling for its life, for a satisfied to turn inward rather than outward for an answer. But as the new belief gradually extended at first the countenance, and then the support of the aviJ power; as it at last, through the help of the latter gradually extended its conquest, not simply over the Roman world, but over the minds of the m«,ming peoples of Western, of Northern, and of Eastern Europe; -a new answer began to silently shape Itself behind the events of history For now men must have argued, if the State was indeed no longer pagan, but converted to the doc- tnnes and ideals of the new belief, then surely it must become the highest object of the State to have Its powers and interests directed to fulfil the greater 366 WESTERN CIVILISATION 1 !i 1 1 I. ... i: ends to which men had come to hold allegiance. It must be the desire, nay, it must be the highest and imperative duty of the SUte to fulfil the office of guardian, of regulator, of champion of the spiritual interests which were now placed above the end of temporal welfare. Slowly, therefore, as the world was caught in the toil of forces inherent in the new concept, we see it being carried irresistibly forward in a direction al- ready determined by inherent necessity. At an early period after the outward conversion of the State, we see, accordingly, the emperors claiming, in the name of the State regarded as the highest embodiment of the new religion, to exercise the highest authority in all religious matters. We have the spectacle of Constantius attempting to impose Arianism on the empire. We see the em- peror for the time being deciding the issues in con- flicts of religious opinion. We have the spectacle of Zeno, Justinian, and Heraclius, Leo the Isaurian, and Constantino the Fifth,* each claiming to inter- fere in religious controversy, and to direct and in- terpret by imperial authority the doctrines and interests of the Church. But it is when we turn to Western Europe that we see the world becoming gradually and steadily enveloped in the influence of a single all-embracing idea. As the spread of the new belief amongst the peoples of Western and Northern Europe rises towards the central events of the Middle Ages,* • Cf. I/is/ory of the Later Xoman Emfiri, bjr J. B. Boxy, toL ii. TiTi. * C£ Thi Holy Roman Emfiri, by Jama Bryce, chap. t. vm THE GREAT AfmNOMY: WRST CTAGE 267 t"™±/''" '^^r "^ *"" '^ »' ^""^ '''th the tempoRj po,.er of the incoming «ces of the North -signalised at last in the historic spectacle of the Cloning by the Pope in the year £, of cL^l ^agne as the successor in men's mind, of the Roman emperors of the West-we have in reality but one controlling principle developing beneath i the events of Western history. To perceive the significance of the central prob- lem of the Middle Ages, it i, necessanr for The evobtionist to keep steadily in view t^prindS^ thousand years ; namely, that of the Holy Roman Em- p.re, which may be said to have been begun with the crowning o Charlemagne in the year ^ though more formally with the accession of Otto I. in 962 and to have lasted down to 1806. ^n the image whTch the empire represented in the period of its highest development the underlying conception was that of a universal State the Pope representing the spiritual head anc the Emperor the temporal head: both possessing universal jurisdiction over Christendom. From the popular identification of the empire with overiooked how near this ideal often was to actual realisation in Western histoor. In it. as Mr. Bryce has remarked, the worid's highest dignity remained for many centuries in Europe the only civil office to which any free-bom Christian was legally eligible.* Even the rulers of States claiming virtual indepen- aence of the empire in most cases admitted the superior rank of the Emperor. For the office of » Tit Holy Jtoman Empire, chap. rri. !X '■V f r ^lili i; a68 WESTERN aVUJSATIQN Emperor the competition was oftep inteniational, not only princes of German, but of Italian, French, SpanUh, and English nationality being from tine to time amongst the candidates. And when the dig- nity of emperor was united with the powers of a reigning prince of first tank outside of Germany —as when the ruler in Spain, Naples, the Nether- lands, and other dominions became the Emperor Charles V., after an election in which Francis I of France and Henry VIII. of England had been his competitors — the Holy Roman Empire was in fact as well as in theory the principal symbol of universal politics in Western history. Now as the evolutionist turns over at the present day the surviving records of this institution as it first becomes visible in Europe, nothing can be more clearly revealed than the nature of the position, aa disclosed on almost every page, up to which the human mmd had travelled at this point in the history of our civilisation. Nothing can also be clearer than the nature of the climax towards which it was being earned irresistibly forward. As he takes up, for in- stance, that remarkable document of the Middle Ages, the Capitulary of the year 802," correctly described a^ the foundation charter of the empire, the standpoint which underlies the working of the human mind is apparent in nearly every clause. The concept that the spiritual welfare of the worid is of more impor- tance than its temporal interests being accepted as unquestioned, there follows a series of steps, each to all appearance natural and inevitable, but to which all the controlling events in the history of Western > Hendcrwn's StUa HUtmtal DommtHb oftU MiMU Ag,,, u. ii. vm ™B great antinomy, nRST STAGE Charlemagne simnlv ,. *^« .^**"'' " '» taken by SUte.hoE^^^,;^^„:!'^^,^«t truth that the idea] of the spirij^^'^'fiflrofth. ^'u'"'""' '^ '"* est representative of S pTZ „ Ar c''" ^''^ '''«''- Emperor, the next , ten f^ ""* ^""'' •"'"« '^e -einh.entSS^^t'-Ur^^^^^^ -.ilita^po^r i^r it" -personification of headof aUmoralitvanH J- ■ • ?"' ^ P'*"=«^ ^t the herent in it may be reaH.W ,.!''' "^ich are in- »« tdieon h«l b^ 1. ^ ' "'" "• '•" «"1 > rait *e .a?t thtnht"h:rrn t'itrr ^" of beinrSrd!^^"""^'' "^* " '* "°' «P-ble *^ agam bndged m any equilibrium within the » a. Ai. . IK-.-.- . _ ^itoruaj Dtamunt ^CtStti^ • Ct Maine', Amium Uw ""/a.: Middle Agts,a. ■n- 370 WESTERN CnnUSATION our. t'l •■ rf'' ! horizon of the present, nor within any boundaries of political consciousness, however widely conceived. Yet what we now appear to have in sight in this Cap pitulary of Charlemagne is the spectacle of the world already moving, as it were, within a closed circle in the State towards an ideal, the effect of which must be, to all appearance, to actually bring the world back again tc the stage described by Maine, when a rule of religion and a rule of law will be once more one and identical We have in sight, in short, in the climax towards which the. events of history appear to be carrying us, the endeavour of the world to express once more in a political ideal in which a rule of religion necessarily tends to become again coincident with a rule of law, a concept the meaning and potentiality of which is abso- lutely irreconcilable with such an idniL For, if we have been right so far, the new concept, is one from which there must proceed, as its most profoundly significant evolutionary result, a fundamental and characteristic distinction, ever widening as human development continues, between the whole sphere of civil and political law (of which the characteristic is that it remains limited by the horizon of the State), and the whole sphere of ethics and religion (of which the char- acteristic is that it has now come to be related to principles the meaning and operation of which tran- scend the limits of political consciousness). As we regard the situation attentively, the nature of the central position upon which the human mind is slowly converging grows into definition. We have actually in vie^we perceive, all the steps by which it is about to reach the climax of that crisis which we saw foreshadowed at the beginning of the chapter ; no TOB GREAT ANnNOMy, nsUTT STAGE art S M,L~"*^'*L'*y ""'•• '•" controlling principle, •mf ^ time. riu« into wcendency in the world ««T^a,*,T'"/ ."/**• importance, and that"h? njurt, a, already indicated, give rise to a daa. of meTth '""'•''y »*- -'I »P««1. i. airily Tea^' When, therrfore. from the eleventh century onwS In Western Europe, the phenomenon which haateeT jUready noted as characteristic of the hll^ o"£™ S^tori^TT';*'"'^ "PP*-"'"'- At whatever^point the h..toncal student stand, in Europe his facVdurLg these centunes turns towards the same centre iTif ^r:, T:r- '" 'r " •^-'OP™-*? becoming vwible as the chiims, mherent in the very nature «rf the concep we have been discussing, grow more and more clearly into view, and are at lenXuXp^ n«3.ngly formulated by the human mindfwhS uX h«, all the pohtusU life of our Western world. It student .s taken ; the position in the State « found to be eveorwhere the «ime; until at length, as we fo«Zl''*'f °^ '"^'=«' - *"« thirtt;trard words of Sir Frederick Pollock.! "draws to itself whatever power or interest men's minds then had in the theoretical treatment of aflFairs of State." This IS the controversy between the temporal and the spiritual power.* > iK<*wy ,/ Ot Stifna of PoliHa, p. 34. h r^ng u« cpiul position tow.rd. which Ihi. coi.tro«», rip«i». the eyolatio™, «o„ undenUnd. Uau one of the fc^TlS^ lite „ II ««ciocory tBotUTioN tut cha>t {ANSI oiKJ ISO TEST CHART No. 2) ^WJi^l^ A /APPLIED IfvHGE In ieS3 East liiam StrMt Rochwtw, Naw York I46M USA (716) «2 - 0300 - Phon« (716) 288-5»a9-Fa« 372 WESTERN C1..JSATI0N In following this controversy through its first phase we must never lose sight of the main fact behind it, namely, that the conflict between the representatives of the civil and of the spiritual power in the Middle Ages is but preliminary. It decided who wiis to be the ultimate authority in directing the State towards a certain ideal. But the great and supreme problem for which the principal attention of the evolutionist must be reserved from the outset is the ideal itself — that to which the human mind advances through this conflict to reach the ultimate climax beyond, in which a rule of religion and a rule of law become again prac- tically one and coinddent in our civilisation. The long-drawn-out controversy between the spir- itual power and the temporal power, in the persons of the Pope and the Emperor, begins in its acute phase soon aiter the accession of Pope Gregory VII. in 1073 ; and in the resulting movement it may be said to carry us down into the midst of the crisis known in history as the Reformation. In regarding this bfti to realiie is, that he must not allow his attention to be primarily concerned with those causes, often necessarily of the deepest interest to a c^ain class of stodents, which led to the see of Rome becoming the representative of the claims now put forward. For as the intellect is fixed on the matter which claims its principal attention, namely, the nature oi the central position towards which the human mind is devel* oping, what ft soon distinguishes is that the claims formulated by sue* cessive Popes were, in the prevailing conditions of the world, inherent in the concept associated with our developing civilisation ; that thoe claims must at a certain stage of development have defined themselves, and have been enunciated on behalf of the spiritual authority just as we find them here being enunciated. They are, indeed, to be distinguished long after inherent in the concepts of Churches and parties which had never acknowledged, or which had ceased to acknowledge, the authority of Rome. vm THE GREAT ANTINOMY: FIRST STAGE pie which isTlicitt '^.i^l"'°'=''°^°"«'Pri"<=i- «amely. the co^clS "'"P'^.^y «»<=•> side alike; o^ toW?o?X-eS sS^i^ r'^'^ ? ^'>- described as the spiritual welfare of Ti;! T.''^* '" more importance than any inTeresTwhiS """^^ '' °' merely within the i.-J^^ ,f* *""=•>" comprised The conclusion whijntn '^'''''^ consciousness, in, and proceeding teWtablvT """t'"''''' '"^"'^^^ this concept wi^i^t^S I r". ''";'"'"*»"'=« °f towards the reaSat.7n offh ' '^'"'^'^ ^ ^'"''^''^ world. The^tTl'whfcir'"^^^ welfare of the arise is, therefore in the f "'^~»t^°^««y begins to the qu'estionf^: s'iZatt th"/ " "^^^^ '° thority in directing the S^t^df tlirS' ^"• the^Erp:rX%Tv;rs:ri?--y ^"- -^ predestined JetheSsaionTv"-"'" "''"' '"" and how i'^sSz:^!::^:^::^^^ teioni., conttoue, l^ coJ^TL "^ .^'" *= """'' "' "■« '™- behind «U,„ iu„„er-,h. Tnrl J, "" P""™ '''"'^' "xb appear. ,„ h„e b«om. !«?„.?"'"''?''' °' *' '"™"' """" «■>• With development .iZ el, .^"^ '""' "'«'^3' «f«"=d «ribed by Maine when^Tuta of el 1° *!? °' '"" '""" "age de- wl>« the breach of . r. , ' F " "'"""^ "^t^ « ""« of law dvU penaltie.. "*°'" °""°"" '^ •« Punidied agJa^ 874 WESTERN aVILISATlON liii taken up by the representative of the civil power as against the claims of the representative of the spirit- ual authority. That ideal of the State which Henry IV. and his successors represented, which at the time underlay the claims of the temporal power throughout the whole of Western Europe, and which still lingers in certain quarters in our civilisation as a legitimate con- ception, was that which we have already seen outlined in Charlemagne's Capitulary of 802.1 jt ^^g tij^t in which the sovereign of the State was concerned as standing not simply at the head of the civil and mili- tary power, but at the head of morality, of religion, and of the Church. The nature of the controversy in its opening terms as regards the empire is well defined by Sir Frederick Pollock : " It was the com- mon g^round of the disputants that the papacy and the empire were both divinely ordained, and each in its own sphere had universal jurisdiction over Christ- endom. The point of difference was as to the relation of these two jurisdictions to one another. Was the temporal ruler in the last resort subordinate to the spiritual, as the lesser to the greater light ? or were their dignities co-ordinate and equal ? " ' Or was the temporal ruler — as Frederick II. afterwards aimed at making himself — actually "supreme in spiritual as well as temporal government ? " • This was the outline of the controversy at the be- ginning. As we look at it now, we see that from the outset there could bt. no doubt as to the issue which must be reached. Once the human mind, in the ex- ^ Select Historical Documents of ike Middle Ages, u. ii • History of the Science of Politics, p. 34. • JUd. vni THE GREAT AJmNOMY, FIRST STAGE - 275 isting conditions of the worirf h.j tion involved in the conZtW. '''''"'' *'"' ^'^ imagination of the monks of n-v K^""' °" '^'^ bodied in the dainis of the ^ ^' *""' *° '"^ "«- along which the dZl^ ^^ P°**""' "^e lines which had now Se ? ''"' P""*'"' ^eal, authorityl^kei; Sttr^of?''"''.'" '""^ "'''■»^'« ituai poU thrcS:"firirps'':/t°hi'?Hn was in practice made by the head „fT c. ^'"^•='' the development of the feuLt'stl Jh,retH '^•"' a natural consequence A hith!! ». 5 ^ '^'*'» not onlyadignitSofth. ri ? v^*" ""^ '^""»« of the rLn,. who^d^t^ h wat t"s ' d"' ''^ " ''""" the king's army and X ^ I •^ontmgents to court, klf th'eSda'd we^^'jf or'""-''* '''' -sTtrc=/T"9------ magne's idea^ of tt r V^^^ °"" *'''« "^ Charle- reco^ded thtu^ the a^S " c ^"^ ''^* "'''* '' « sion thirty qu^ns InH f " ^"'"'' ^'"='- conver- ^ n-rty queens and kmgs went into the cloister • * """"^-*"'^«'^'^V.b7aB;Ad.™,.^. 3^6 WESTERN cnaUSATlON m so we had now the other side of the development in the fact, that we are told that within thirty years, towards the close of the ninth century, two arch- bishops and eight bishops died on the field of battle fighting by the side of counts and lords.* The result which followed was inevitable. The fiefs and juris- dictions of the bishoprics came, therefore, to be given by the head of the State to faithful followers ; and not only as a re-^vard for their past services, but also in consideration of those'in the future.' It was against the subordination of the conception of the spiritual power which all this essentially im- plied, and against the practice of lay investiture which it immedifitely involved, that the genius and imagina- tion of Tope Gregory VII. now rose in revolt. In the resulting conflict, in which the political life of the whole of Western Europe becomes deeply involved, the steps follow each other with dramatic efifect. In the opening act we have five of Henry IV's councillors excommunicated by Gregory for hav- ing attained ecclesiastical office by means of simony,* > Tit Btgimiitg of the MidtBi Ages, by R. W. Cbvicli, c. x. * Select Historical Documents of Ae Middle Ages, by E, F. Hender- •on, VI. Intro. 'Adams gives the following description of the charge of simony at this period : Technically, it involved " securing an ecclesiastical office by bribery, named from the incident recorded in the eighth chapter of the Acts concerning Simon Magus, But at this time the desire for the complete independence of the Church had given to it a new and.wider meaning, which made it include all appointment to positions in the Church by laymen, including kings and the Emperor. It is the plainest of historical facts that such appointment had gone on, practically undisputed, from the earliest times. Under both the public and the private law of all the German Sutes the king had such a right Accord- ing to the private law the founder was the patron, and as such enjoyed the right of appointment According to the conception of the public - THB GRKAT .«™,0„V.. „K„ 3TAGE ,7, and Henry is ordered to desist frnn, further influence on epLo^f f ««cising any P«ror,> true to that conSJn /t"""'- T"" =■»- not only of the State but of h« •'" °*" =" ''«'• ceeded, i„ reply, to sli„ ' """'"*' P°'*«. Pro- which was attenVd by7rof'.r""'" "' ^°™«. two-thirdsofallthebisLpsof Ger ""'^^''^^P' ^d not shunned to rise up Sst thr"^' , " ■^''°" ''^' ferred upon us by God E' *''! /"^^ ?»*«» con- Mofit/'^saidHeniTi;;^?^ *° "'^««" t° divest we had received ou7wnedo ' f '" *!?' ''°P'' "« '^ not to be deposed for anS™ 'm"" *''?"' "I »"> " I am subject to the iud^™!' T '^' ""^"'"n J the Cain. The ^rthe^E^l' ''''"''" ' ^^^^ proceeded to declare Gregory htferd^sS/S otter fcadai u.^, j^. t^. «J^^ ■»„„ direcUy Uuu, „, to time. ,ft„ Gregory VII. T,m.' '^T, ""'«• l^fore Qurle, M^el •".proportion of .h. r^^:^,^^-^^*"^ « «ry co Jd„. "■PortMce whetaer officer, exercirin! u . ^""' « ■"tier of viul co..,om„g„,^.^ ^^,™<« ."Ch u^porun, function. .„d M one-third of the territory -rto^."^"'^'"'' ""Twhere u m„eh «n,e foreign powe, beyond it. ^t^^ '"«'«» ^r*' Sut. „, by ton Adtna, ch.p. ,.). "^ '*' ^"^ ^«, by George Bur- 'Henry^tiUewMuvet iM^i. ■»»•■" He ™.crow."d il'^jf^ '?*"'^' ""^ "Ki»g of the Ro- '■n.. Emperor Hen^Tv^'^ "" "^ "^ "« ^nti Pope Wibe^ 'JMA .Ah« '/fcrf S«.w <^o''""'^'™'°'"-fl-S. Gr»!:f't^"*^ ^"««^. iv il'J'Lf""?"' "/ W/K Gregory VII, a,tb Jan. ,076 ' *' '^^ "' '*- " "^ r of the Bishops aifS WESTERN CnnUSATION 1^ which the Pope and his synod retaliated by banning all the dissentient bishops as well as the Emperor, declaring the royal power of the latter forfeit, and all his subjects loosed from their allegiance.' As the conflict deepens, we distinguish the inevi- table weakness of the position taken up by the ruler in the name of the civil power.* " I am not to b« deposed for any crime," said Henry at the height of his claims, "unless — which God forbid" — he adds parenthetically, "I should have strayed from the faith." » But who was to be the ultimate authority in such a matter ? In the ]iresence of the conception common to both positions that the spiritual welfare of the world was of greater importance than its tem- poral interests, the Pope was able, with relentless logic, to proceed to assert the inferiority of all tem- poral kings and emperors — swollen with worldly glory, sprung from those who, by force, pride, plun- der, and even crimes, inherited a servile and transi- tory kingdom.* The necks of their greatest were bowed before the knees of priests.* Even the might- iest of them were not so great as many who were poor and meek and lowly, the subjects of a kingdom of liberty and eternity.^ How monstrous, therefore, and intolerable were these their claims on "the ser- vant of the servants of God," on the bishops and ab- bots of the Church, that these should be so occupied > StUa /Ks/oruat Daaoninti, ir. U. 7. ' Cf. Leckj*! Xiu tf P.atumalum in Buropt, toL ii. p. 144, ud The ffofy Jtoman Empirt (Bryce), ch^>. x. * Selttl Historiad Docwntntt o/lki MuUlt Aps, U. U. 5. * Letter of C-egoiy VII. to Bubop Heimina of Heti, I5t]i Hucb 1081, Silia Hiflarujl DtcHmmtt, iv. ii. 14. * aid, * Md, vm ™" GR^T AOTINOMY. Rrst STAGE Which' thi„;Xd°eS "eMfe Waf ir •'"'« wi«.out plunder, ^crilege"" o^^. l' ''^ '''' «^«' O" shines through the who k .„ ! ""'^''P' *'"'='' development Uee^sTnSto^rS-. i'h' *'' chmsut NotwithstanrJm„ fk '^ '"''^rds its inherent «ceived by the ^en '^*?T"' *'"°""' °f "PPort the Emperor to escane th. u ''*' ""Powible for the position in whS the wor^"' '=°"*«<1"«»«=« of within a, hort time from ^h "" '"^"'^'^i '"«'. ve«y, Henry I^^a^ a pe^nftZrV'*' ''"''''^ ;os.he,,„,,,olution'TrrCf£;i- its tendency is ever intTdirt on "^Jf "'''''=-' ""se of the Concordat of w • ~'"P''°- fifty years after the o^L' 0^7"^ ""' """'^ ^Hinly veiled the tHum^h of thl '^^;^ ».«*, i,. a. „. """"^ ^"'- "">. iiii. &i!«/ i5%*,rt«,/ ff^^ 380 WESI'ERN avaiSATICM li:' 1 4 the lupKmacy of the forces reprewnted by the ipirit- «i>l authority. " It wu wanifett," says Hallam, " that the see of Rome had conquered" » But the full mean- ing of what was taking place cannot be compressed into such a formula. In Germany, Italy, France, and England the larger question from which the uis- pute Itself proceeded continued to be the deepest issue beneath the surface of political life. When the peace of Venice brought the controversy for the time being to an end in 1177, the supremacy of the spiriN nal dominion had become firmly established. The spintual power had come forth victorious from the long struggle. When its victory had been signalised by that scene enacted at the spot where three red slabs m the church of St. Mark's point out the spot where another Emperor knelt before the Pope, the end of the first stage, towards the climax which we saw foreshadowed at the outset, had been reached. After a hundred years of conflict the Western world •aw It established on seemingly unassailable founda- tions that if, indeed, the spiritual welfare of the world is of greater importance than aU those tem- poral mteiests with which the State is concerned; then the power m whose hands the spiritual interests are placed IS higher than any ruler in the name of the State ; his will, as representing those interests, rises supenor to every power and purpose for which the temporal State exists. In these events we appear to see the human mind in the historical process deliberately advancing step by step to the very heart of the remarkable problem « ™- GREAT A^oMV. „«„ 3TA0K ,„ i. poMible that tL*S,;°ri'^ '''"'''' •'-"-^ which .lone the contrlnin ^ «»«n«pated. by •ction can be projeaS tdT¥" °' ""»•» cal co„,ciou,„„,, there w^uf * '""'" "^ PoUti- * principle which «ilLt ^te^^^l-V- •>« '-olved force, within the Dre«n; !, ! / '** '"* "''y of iTger future can fe bo™- ' '' *'"^'' "^o"* the apparently again impriso^'all C^'" ""''='' ""»« ty«nny greater th« Ly fro„ "• ?"'«^'* '» * f»«rged. We have reaiyTh" h f ^^'^ "«» "> which it aeem. ineSetSf ""^ "' « *«'" •nd a rule of hw ,ho "iH k^ " "''" "^ «"Kion JJ^tical; nay, mor;,' a 'lo^""^ «f » one^d Mawe'. ph«,e. the tAn, ^^^ '" "''!!='>' "» u.e «aace will again be punE hT , "'*'"»• ""»'- With this «omento„n£rence A '^°''"*'- »« now no longer, as in th. *" ^ ""'* "' ^'ipon the i«ter«?f o Se Jf.LrT''?''* "'««^ considered to rise .uSSotf ^'"'^ '' ^ ev«ytemponUpuTx,sewTate^;?^'^ "P'""* »ver. "i»t«. Nosuchti^eL!^^ ^"'■"'^^''th. 3tate ever lurked i^ the anltl'^ir^''^"'^''^''"^^ tyn|nnies through ^St^Z^T'' ""' °' '"« The further and greater !ffu. **P«»«ed itself, the position here dSSLl? ""u"* ^"^'^ fr"™ ward in n,pid succeS^ SrhThe ."■'" '""=''^<"- versalpol-ticsof theconceot^ith!? """'P'' ^ ""•- «« supe ior to the temS wi 'P,'""^ '»'««t. aSa WBBTEItN CIVIUSATION towards iti realiMtion : "The poMibility of aMuming the control of the whole Chrif tian world, political at well as ecclesiastical, which had dawned upon the consciousness of the Roman Church," > is at last visibly embodied in the ideal towards which the world ii moving. 'i ae steps by which we watch the growing claims being asserted in the final stage are to be followed throughout the public life of nearly all the States of Europe. In Spain, Hungary, England, France, Ire- land, Scandinavia, and even Russia, the influence of the ideal towards which they tend in political affairs is in sight. The claim underlying that ideal is, at times, clearly expressed in words. It is, as the King of Munster in Ireland is informed, that "all sover- eigns are subjects of St. Peter, and that all the world owes allegiance to him and to his vicar."* In the thirteenth century the Latin rulers in the East are subject to the Pope ; Aragon, Hungary, and England are fiefs of Rome ; King John of England, in words of his own Act, freely conceding "the whole kingdom of England and the whole kingdom of Ireland with all their rights and appurtenances .... and now re- ceiving and holding them, as it were, a vassal from God and the Roman Church."* 1 Adum' CmliuMtn duriHt llti MidHt Attt, e. x. *aU. ■ Volentci DM ipm homiliire pr j Illo Qui Se pro nobis hamiliiTit uque ad mortem, grmtia Sancti Spiritus intpir&nte, non vi indncti nee timore coactl, led nostra bona spontaneaque yolontate ac commoni consilio baronum noatronun, offerimns et libera coacedimns Deo et Sanctis apostolis Ejus Fetro et Paolo et sanctae Romanae ecdesiae mi;L.« nostrae, ac domino nostro papae Innocentio ejnsqoe catholids sncces- soribns, totnm regnum Angliae et totun regnnm Hibemiae, cum omni j«re et pertinentiis sois, pro remissions peccatomm nostromm et totins gen- cib nosttt tarn pro viYia qsam defonctis ; etamodoUlaaOeoetecdesia rm THE GREAT AimNOMY, HILir WAGE aSj It tometlmes happens that, through the detached •tMdpoint of English historian^ the dispute between dent m English history, scarcely to be conceived of •part from the weakness of the king or the special circumstances of his reign. The deeper student of htstonr sees how local this view is. The character of John inflamed the conditions of the dispute and produced the full measure of his humiliation. But it ii the conflict from which the incident itself proceeds which constitutes at the time the largest and deepest issue m the unfolding of our civilisation. And the power m that civilisation which had already broken lli^^?' """y ^^- ■«<• ■'""•'led the Emperor Frederick I., was not likely to be lightly resisted by any sovereign of England who would have confronted it upon a like issue. On the threshold of the fourteenth century we have r^hed the Bull "Clericis Laicos" of Boni- face VIII., to which a greater sovereign of England than John found it convenient to render a qualified &cim« «t j™.», rt hoBugium ligi^n fa p«Me„a. domfai p.pi„. ri co«m «, », poterimu^ eidcm f«i«„„,; .ucc«or« rt h.^^ ~«ro. de Bxore ■>.«» fa p«p,t.um obUg,nt«, ut .taUll rnodo «a,mo ponHfici^ p,^ tonpor. fuerit. et eccW« Ronaa«, .fa. coato»iic. a. Art of SiAmtaion nud. b, John to P«,d«lf ., Dove, on the ijth »J n! t .'!"""^ '" ^'"''"' ^"'"'P "' TukbJm,. at London OB 3riOctob.r, wrth . golden iuO., .nd with the Wu.1 perfonn«ce of 384 WESTERN CrVILISATiaN obedience. In this document there has been reached almost the last stage of the definition of the problem outlined at the outset It is declared by the Bull to be forbidden and illegal for laymen of whatever degree or estate, whether claiming as "emperors, kings, or princes, dukes, counts or barons, podestas, captains, or officials, or rectors — by whatever name they are called,"' to submit representatives of the spiritual authority to secular jurisdiction. In the uncompromising words of the Bull: "All jurisdic- tion is denied them over the clergy — over both the persons and the goods of ecclesiastics."* The cus- tom of appealing to Rome begun in England under Henry I. had, in a hundred years, grown to such an extent that the king's jurisdiction over ecclesiastics had become almost nominal in criminal matters.' The significant words of this Bull mark the limits to which the claim of the spiritual authority now extended. The tendency which accompanied these claims throughout Europe went much further, it has to be noted, than the mere emancipation of the spiritual authorities from civil jurisdiction. The aim under- Ijring it woriced steadily in the direction of bringing the whole civil jurisdiction within the direct control of the Church. With the gradual growth of the » Hendenon't Stlia Historual Doaimtnia c/IIU UiidU Ata, iv. vi. *IUd. ' The brief but lignificiuit wordi with which cap. iii of the Consti- tntioni of duendon concludet — " Et d clcricui convictui vel confessus fuerit, non debet de cetero eum ecclesit tueri" (Stubbt' StUtt Char- Itri) — referred, in practice, to a condition of aRain in which the eccle- •iaatical tribunals had not only encroached on the secular, but in which generally they had begun to obtain a real ascendency. 'm THE GREAT ANTINOMY, msT STAGE 285 Europe a new legal code and a new class of leeal p«„ers. I„ the canon law. as Halla™ piS out. the supenonty of ecclesiastical to temporal power, or at least the absolute independence of tS former, may be considered as a sort of key-note which regulates every passage." i This superiority, moreover, existed not simply in theory. Through effUt''"'P°'^ governments of ChriTtendom mSt effec ive measures were taken by the spiritual au- thority to g adually extend its control to general «use,. to the temporal judges, and at length to all cml suits. The conditions through which th^s end was achieved often lay ready at hand. Large cksses of persons, which were not in the ordinal sense considered as ecclesiastical, were nevertheless technically considered to come within ecclesiastical unsdiction. The poor, the orphans, and the widows, of the Church, and as such could not be sued before any lay tribunal." Spiritual causes, again, itwl^ agreed by both sides, appertained to tte 's;^^' tnbunaL But as it was held that the Church was always bound to prevent and chastise sin. the com- mon diflferences of individuals, which generally in- volved some charge of wilful injury, were by^hU TuZ" r'''rV'"^'"'*y ''™"S''' ""^^' ecclesiLicaJ 3unsdiction^» Even in actions relating to real prop- ertym land a similar interpretation produced a like 386 WESTERN CIVILISATION result For the ecclesiastical tribunals took cogni- sance of breaches of contract, at least where an oath had been pledged, and of personal trusts, and they were able to claim jurisdiction on this ground.' It is true that excommunication continued to be, in theory, the only chastisement which the Church could directly inflict. But it must be remembered that sentences of excommunication were enforced by the civil magistrate, by imprisonment and con- fiscation, and at times even by the death penalty.' Measures, practices, and interpretations of this kind tended to extend the jurisdiction of the Church on all sides. From the twelfth century onward. iJ'l 1 View cf Ai StaU of Eurept duritig tkt Middlt Apt, bjr Henry HalUun, chap. viL * When the object of pnniihment went further than the indrndual, " the Church," layi Hmllam, " had recoune to a more comprehensive punishment For the offence of a nobleman, she put a county, for that of a prince, his entire kingdom, under an interdict, or su^naion of religious ofiicet. During an interdict, the churches were dosed, the beUs silent, the dead unburied, no rite but those of baptism and extreme anction performed. The penalty fell upon those who had neither partaken in nor could have prevented the offence ; . . . Interdicts were so rare before the time of Gregory VII. that some have referred them to him as their author ; instances may, however, be found of an earlier date, and especially that which accompanied the excommunica- tion of Robert, king of France. They were afterwards issued not nnfrequently against kingdoms ; but in particular districts they con- tinually occurred. This was the mainspring of the machinery that the clergy set in motion, the lever by which they moved the world. From the moment that these interdicts and excommunications had been tried, the powers of the earth might be said to have existed only by sufferance. Nor was the validity of such denunciations supposed to depend upon their justice. The imposer, indeed, of an unjust excom- munication was guilty of a sin ; but the party subjected to it had no remedy but submission " ( Vita «/ At Stalt tf Eureft tluring At Middh Ages, chap. vii.). vm THE GREAT ANTINOJfY. HRST STAGE 287 says Hallam, the boundary between temporal and spmtual offences grew continually less distinct," so that towards the fourteenth century ecclesiastical junsdiction "rapidly encroached upon the secular tribunals, and seemed to threaten the usurpation of an exclusive supremacy over all persons and causes."* In the conflict following the resistance by Philip of France to the claims enunciated in the Bull "Clencis Laicos," we reach at last the complete definition of the capital position towards which the process at work in Western history had moved for more than a thousand years; and have disclosed, beneath the position in history in our civilisation, the full outlines of the remarkable problem which we saw foreshadowed at the beginning. In the Bull "Unam SancUm,"' issued at the opening of the fourteenth century, and towards the close of the struggle with Philip, the claims of the spiritual authority are enunciated with an uncompromising clearness which leaves nothing to be desired. The superiority of spiritual interests to temporal welfare, being taken as a concept fundamental and unchal- lenged, the long dispute of the centuries as to who was to be the ultimate authority in spiritual matters reaches at last its inevitable culmination. The claim of the civil ruler is once and for all dis- posed of. The spectacle, which had repeated itself throughout the centuries in the past, of the temporal ! ^ f^ ^' 'fSorf d»ri»g A...adl,Ati,.c^. ■ Joitate The rehgious ordinance, the transgression „f wh.ch is about to be punished on a ^vS scale by av.l penalties in the present, is no longertS to any object of the State. The obiert 5 f k mcluded within the bounds of civil consciol^r t t" e reSTatr"^ ^T ''''' ^"^^ '^^^^^ which tT» f """'' ^*'*'*- No forms in which the tyninmes of the ancient world could have •mpnsoned the energies of the human mind or of 1 rr „.^_- 'Cf. 'ufra. ■90 WESTERN CnnuSATIOK the human will could, to all appearance, have pos- aessed such an illimitable potentiality of absolutism. We have advanced, in short, to the heart of the first great crisis of the human mind in the history of the development in which it becomes the destiny of the present to pass under the cortrol of the future in our Western civilisation. In the first centuries of the era in which we are living, we saw how the leading crises of the system of belief which had become associated with our civilisation were but the outward expression of a single fact. There was represented in them, we saw, the effort, again and again repeated, to close the antithesis which had been opened in the human mind; and by so doing to bring the world back again to that equilibrium within the horizon of exist- ing consciousness which was represented in the philosophy of the ancient world. So now, even where the nature of the supreme concept to which the human mind has become related is clearly visible beneath all the events of history, we s( s the process still caught, as it were, within the closed circle of the State, still involved in conditions in which a rule of religion must, by inherent necessity, become a rule of law, enforced in the last resort by civil penalties. To all appearance, the movement in which there was involved the infinite potentiality of the emanci- pation of the future in the present — in which there lay inherent that free conflict of forces out of which the greater future can alone be bom, and towaids which the whole process of evolution in human so- ciety must ultimately ascend — is itself imprisoned in an absolutism of the still ascendant present. *" ™E GREAT ANTINOMy.nRST STAGE ag, epoch, the BpZ^Z ?° . » V^' "^'""'8 °* ""e new iMTdeme^- presented >s remarkable in the With the rise of th? *;*".*'•« •'^^^JoP'-cnt itself, position of uUi^Ve^ltjrtt sttfL^-'^ ' raitt^whtr^al;t^^^-'--^^^^ the speculative td'rifirkS':,'?;''^- °' mind has supervened- an7j„ u- u ^ "'* """^n g«dually intoTstu ' j • '•* """ ^"^^ '""k Mr. Leckv's VomhrlT ■ -^°'^'* """^ <='«i"lity. the w^ri?^ hey preseST/' '•;* ""'''«°- »' ISt'ed^xt^-"?^^^ uniformly branded « I^ a^;*^''' "" «"»»« of the m'ost deadly Tnte'irviL^rerrrr ately inculcated as virtues r? • ''''*''- .tudy with equal att'ntS^' and' wit'h TindT '" sinfJt!? reS 2isTdtirSei'„riiJ^-- pPmions, sinful to give only a auJ^l". '"* «d^isive arguments^'sinf^^'Urttt^S'^ 39> WESTERN dVIUSATION m- The theologians, by destroying every book that could generate discussion, by diffusing to every field of knowledge a spirit of boundless credulity, and, above all, by persecuting with atrocious cruelty those who differed from their opinions, succeeded ... in almost arresting the action of the European mind." * The conditions of the problem are complete. It is an altogether remarkable spectacle. Yet the evolu- tionist, who has succeeded in preserving his stand- point of detachment, feels that he must never for a moment lose sight of the central position upon which attention must continue to be concentrated. It remains to him, under all its features, still a spectacle remarkable in one particular over and above every other. It is the potentiality of the cosmic d-ama which is unfolding itself that holds the intel- lect as the supreme fact to which every detail is •ubordinate. In an age when the human mind has come to discuss in a scientific spirit the import, on the distant verge of social consciousness, of "nsti- tutions like Totemism and Ancestor Worship, it is absolutely impossible for the evolutionist, who has emancipated himself from the prepossessions and prejudices of the unscientific spirit bred in the dis- putes of the past, to doubt for a moment the over- whelming evolutionary significance of the principle at work in the world. Its very excesses, its very absolutism, are hardly more than the measure of its potentiality. Yet w ither is the progress of the world tending ? We have travelled to the brink of the period when ' Tkt Xiu and InfouHct cf KatimalUm in Eurete, toL i:. pp. «7.» Tin n« GREAT AMTOTOMY. HRsr STAGE 393 the flame* of universal Deraeeutinn i- .u persecution, for "he fim 1.^° u' "'"'" ''«K'°"« world, is actually a£ to II" *"' '"'"'"y °^ *"« -cale that omin7us Slifi '^"T °" " "'"''«»''l distinguishes L it .Tal""?/'''''* *''•■ »''<="!« Christianity.! ril instT.T '^ "'"' '''^ '»'"> »' founded as^arlya^ the r-°"- '''" ^"<1"'««0". century, and 'he d^cr^ of^t" p"*^ f "'* "'•^«'»«' Late«n of a few yea^ ?«*'"' ^°r'' Council of the extenninate Z'S d^' '"J"'"'"^'^' "-'en "to branded as her^ic^t^ the ci -*.'"'- '^"^ «- quire in this relation a «•«*«. ••^ " •°*'" *° »<=■ the greater par^^Xur w/r"'''"'=* throughout close to the JeriS when .f ™c ^''''*' ^^ «« under the fon^o? the In '^"/P"""'' P«"«s„la, when religious Dersecu«„n • . '''* *"""=""» i* Western Euro;eThl""J!j\P^'^' *''-"Sh»"t before ; when Paul IvT T ^'""^" '" ">« ""'"'d » /-^^Uw, . when Yhe F '"'"'"" *'"' ^-^^ ^- PhilipILofSpalSetobe"^'"' """""^ ^- "■"» movement in wWch?sente^.'r*'"'"'*'' "'"> '"at lated against ZTthl J u °^ '''=''"' » *° be formu- as herS.? the sSt aftr'' "/ ^"^ N'"'*^'-"^'' and willing c ^' powlrle f -""^^^ "^ *° ""= """ B vu power the selection of the victims in ^T'" '" '^'^ ^- ^« c^.. a ^ i. „a C..P. ., •94 WXSrEKN aVIUSATION a condeuiMtion in which, u Motley pointi out, all bebg untenced alike to a common grave, it waa poa- •Ible for any, without warning, difficulty, or trial, to be carried to the acafFold or the ttake.> Nay, mora, we have almost reached the period when, looking Into the future, we see the ipirit which riaet to quea- tion this absolutism, itself caught in the influence of the same ideas, and differing neither in tendency nor in will to make its own absolutism as unquestioned aa that which it challenged. What, therefore, is the solution of the problem towards which the world is advancing ? Is the West- ern mind destined to reach a synthesis of knowledge hidden as yet beneath the Ihorizon f Is it destined to retrace its steps, and, baffled and disillusioned, to abandon that conviction to which we have seen it advance in the full light of history— the conviction that what it has come to call iu spiritual welfare is more important than its temporal i.iterests ? The principles of the evolutionary process which are working out the destiny of the peoples who are to inherit the future are principles which can never more be comprised within the content of political consciousness. The peoples to whom the future belongs are they who already bear upon their shoul- ders the burden of the principles with which the interests of that future are identified. And yet, how is the future to be emancipated in the present ? How is the race to rise to a sense of direct, personal, and compelling responsibility to a principle transcending every power and purpose included in the limits of its » Motley^ Siu tf At Dutdi JkftMu, chap. U. put i. ud clap. a. put iij. "« TH« GREAT AHTWDOY. HMT m« ,95 poUtld coiiKioufne..; wd .till be »o occupied t»ith principle, of human con.cioui,.eM projected ou o? ^'cScT/ '" "* r"«^ withi„\he pre?em .' w^Id S "'".• •""'» " •"" ""ver bein in the alone be born, and toward, which th* whnu of evolution in «,ciety »u.t JtilulJ'^alitnd r'" if iv CHAPTER IX 1!^ TRB DIVXLOPMENT OF TNB ORKAT ANTINOMY IM WUTBRN HISTOKV: SXCOND STAQX In the itudy of the many-sided moveirent which, dating from the Renaissance in Europe, and which, taking its course through the religious and political upheaval known in history as the Reformation, carries us rapidly forward into the midst of the principles governing the development of the modem world, it is of the first importance that the attention of the obse-ver should continue to be concentrated on the character of the centra! problem with which we have been concerned from the beginning. That problem in its briefest terms involves, as we saw, the realisation in Western history of conditions in which the principle of Projected Efficiency is to become more effectively operative than has ever been possible in the world before. Standing at this point for a mo nent and looking back over the history of the progress which the race has made, it may be recalled that the conditions under which development has been possible in the social process have had one characteristic feature. While progress has been identified from the beginning with competition, the inherent tendency of all competition, in the era of the ascendency of the present, has, of necessity, been for the strongest competitive forces to become absolute, and so to suppress in time those 396 CKA,.a TH« OMAT ANHN MV. SECOND STAGI a^y r.fJS!!,'^ r^'^ ^"^ «"""« "^ «' "hleh the mo.t effective future could MiM. Thl. hw been the 7' ," *!•"'• *° *""* «»"«"'"°» »' the world which culminated in the ancient dviliMtion* We.t«Ti ciyiliMtion from the beginning of our er. ha. been .elated to a .ingle cau« ;n,Jy, the p^te^ t«lity of a pnndple inherent in it to projecVthe controlling principle, of it. con«:iou.ne.. beyond the prcent ; «,d «. ultimately to operate in bSfng up .'Jthou.t .'""^"r.* '" K"^'™™'"'. in actio; nir^Zf ' •* 'f ■*"«*''"' *•'«'"«'' ''hich the om^ ^n^Shn. ^~'' ™""'« P""^P'" °' humw, re- .p«...b.hty being no longer confined within the prwent, the evolutionary .ignificance of the social proce.. m We.tem hUtoor consUt^ in .hort, in it. tendency to produce the condition of .uch a free mr^ry of force, a. ha. never been in the wo!S before, by rendenng ,t inipos.ible to .but up again the human wUl m any system of government, of acUon or of thought, thn,ugh which the tyranny' of foS expressing themselves within the limits of political con.aou.ne8s could once more become absolute It ".upon the conditions of the world-embracing strug- t«wt't *1" "*"■'" " "''" '» ^ emancipated, and m which the hitnerto prevailing ascendency of the present in the world is destined to be ultimately bn>ken^that the attention of the mind has now to tol°/""*w° "" ^ "* ""'"' ''•''"^Wng interest to the evolutionist than that which presents itself to him when, with the conditions of the remarkable 298 WESTERN aVIUSATICKf p i i ; f '.K ' :l, Hi';; problem foreshadowed in the previous chapters fresh in his mind, he watches now the activities of our Western world being slowly drawn into the influence of that modem struggle from out of which, at the end of centuries of strife, there is to emerge gradually into view the first rough outlines of the master-princi- ple of a new world. It is to be a world in which every cause, and institution, and opmion will in the end hold its very life at the challenge of such criti- cism and competition as the human mind has never known before. But it is to be a world, withal, in which the entire phenomena of progress must con- tinue to be related to a single underlying life-principle, namely, that the ultimate controlling principles of human action have been projected beyond the con- tent of all systems of interest whatever included within the limits of political consciousness. Now as we regard the conditions towards which our Western world has moved at the close of the Middle Ages, it may b' observed that the ideal which has come once more to hold the human mind is that of a universal empire resting ultimately on force. The universal empire is indeed no longer an empire in which the ideal of men is that the strong'- st material interests in the present should become abso- lute and omnipotent. It is a universal empire in which a particular belief has become absolute; in which it is again conceived that a rule of religion should, in the last resort, be a rule of civil law ; in which it is considered that the State itself exists now for no higher end than that all its machinery, and purposes, and powers should be devoted to establish- ing and maintaining throughout the world the sway of a THE GREAT ANTINOMY: SECOND STAGE 399 one accepted and authoritative interpretation of abso- lute truth, which the human mind has come to place higher than any interest whatever comprised within the hmits of political consciousness. What we have now to watch is the tremendous concept upon which this ideal rested in the minds of men — a concept stUl entangled, as we may per- ceive, in the theory of the State, still allied to the pnnciple of universal force, and. therefore, as we may see, stUl imprisoned within the closed circle of the yet ascendant present — moving now at last in Western history towards a realisation of that potentiality which has been inherent in it from the beginning. In the resultmg revolution we are destined to witness our civilisation carried far beyond the content of any syn- thesis of knowledge which the human mind had as "et imagined, and to see the systems of thought representing the new spirit, themselves impelled, by forces greater than they understood, towards a goal of which they had no perception at the beginning, and of which the full significance is even as yet but dimlv realised by the Western mind. It has been usual in the past in nearly aU studies of the period in which the Middle Ages merge into the modem world to consider this epoch of upheaval as dating from, or at all events as inseparably asso- ciated with, the movement taking its rise in Italy towards the end of the fourteenth century, and known as the Renaissance. As the evolutionist looks long and closely at the history of the Italian Renaissance he comes, however, sooner or later, to perceive that It IS not really through this movement, in the first instance, that he has to follow the main stream of '1. Soo WESTERN CIVIUSATION liil^ Western development as it descends through its prin- cipal current towards the future. Just as in the period at the beginning of our era in which a long, culminat- ing epoch of absolutism under many phases had pro- duced the tendencies of thought to be distinguished in the Roman world ; so now, in the eariier Renais- sance, we have in sight the movements in which the minds of men attempt to rise above, or to separate themselves from, the extraordinary results which have been produced. And yet, as in the Roman worid, without being in themselves representative, for the time being, of any new principle of life. In the movements, accordingly, in which we see the Italian intellect turning again with enthusiasm, and a sense of awe, to the revived study of the litera- ture, the art, and the knowledge of the ancient civili- sations—in which we see the mind of Machiavelli captivated with the old Roman theory of the State and its inherent ideal of the secularisation of religion ;» in which we see philosophy, in the theories of Pico della Mirandola, Telesio, and a crowd of others,' mov- ing again, on the one ;:and, towards the concepts of Neo-Platonism and, on the other, towards the ideals of a vague pantheistic humanism — we have much that suggests a close parallel to the period when the humanitarian ideals of the ancient philosophy held the mind of the Roman world at the beginning of our era, without being able to supply any new life-princi- ple to a system of society the governing causes of which they antagonised.' I Cf. MachiiveUi'i Diieourui oh At Ftra Duadt of Tina lAvimt, i. xi.-xv. and iii. xv.-xvii. • Cf. History ofModtrn Phihsophy, by Kuno Fischer, chap. t. » liU. IX THE GREAT ANTINOMY: SECX3ND STAGE 30I In all the earlier movements of the Renaissance we may distinguish, accordingly, that we have the same characteristic standpoint. The effort which these movements represent is an effort, not to ac- centuate that antithesis which has been opened in he Western mind -and to which we have seen the charactenstic potentiality of our civilisation to be related -but an effort to close it again.' As in the out 00k of the Stoics, and in the theories of Neo- Platonism, the tendency of the movements them- selves is only to bring the world back to a standpoint beyond which the evolutionary process has, in realitv moved." ' ' > a 7%, Etkic cfFra Tlumgkt, by Karl ?««„, U. vUl Th* n«ne of world-wide renown which hu come down throw* nL.7 • "• " "" ""'"^ "' "« w,etchedne« .nd the d.b«ed c|rcum.t.nce. of the time, the retnm to the rtudy of the «c.ent civU».tion. h«l been , kind of intoxication. The oU ^m„ SUte cont™««, with .he previhng condition of the worwt:.^:" Wm . pattern .n ,de.l, .n in.piration. The religion of the .ncert Rom... w« the Sute, the StMe w„ the end of .U h»m«, e«o^ th^ a.ter.pr«ented the ultimate me.ning of .U hum.nmor.h. Th^^l o^pp«,tlon between Ae «cul.r St.te and «me.hing which had "nc^ .^iL^lrH r.""' *"" ""^""^ """ "> M^Wavelli, in the end. a. a kind of .bnorm Jity in n.t«re. (Compare the influence ta r2. h 1 rT^* •«^'' *• "P'™' "<' "f "•»»» 'ffort. the over- rulmg objert of hum.n mor.1. 1 (Compare the Diucur.e: .» a. f"„ h.M ™ ; " i" -^ " "" """' '^»"» State «e the example^ «ood. «. far M It c« be expre.Kd in « few word.. But of the dee,«, ««h«t.on-U.e tendency to the .eparadon of the theory of the State fromth. p„„c,pl.. of ethic, and religion-Machi.velUhim«lf,emain«J entuely unconKioiu, ">~iicu 3M WESTERN OVIUSATICnf Vanini, indeed, towards the close of the Renais- sance, like Plethon at its beginning, lilce Porphyry in the Neo-Platonism of the third century, was still imagining the return of our civilisation to the stand- point of the ancient philosophy. Nay, like so many who had preceded him, he was dreaming of the aban- donment by the Western mind of that system of religious belief with which it became associated at the beginning of our era. To many minds of the Italian Renaissance — as to Voltaire in the seven- teenth century, as to James Mill in the nineteenth century, as to many minds still amongst us — that element in the concepts of the system of belief associated with our civilisation which projects the principles of human conduct beyond any possible equilibrium in the present had simply no meaning.' 1 Compare the two in Machiarelli'i Diicourstt m At Firil Dtcadt cf Tilui LMus, L xi-xr. and iii. xr.-mrii. On iti intellectiud lide the Italian Renaiiaance in manj of iti repreienUtiva eiprened a develop- ment towards a kind of nature philosoph]r, a movement resembling in many of its deeper intellectual features the earlier Neo-Platonism dis- cussed in a previous chapter. We recognise this characteristic feature under many forms — literary, artistic, philosophical, and religious in the early Gemuttt PUthtn as in the later CampantUa, in the mystical mm Nttteskeim as in the naturalistic TtUsit. Beneath the surface of the humanist movement there is, in short, to be always distinguished the ultimrte conception of the sufficiency of existing human nature, and the '■ .ging for the free and unrestrained expression of it as in the ancient civilisations, this tendency rising in some of its forms to a kind of deifying of natnre. The difference between this phase of the move- ment and the Neo-Platonism of an earlier period has often been dis- cussed at length. But the leading fact of the movement as a whole, with which we are here concerned, stands out clearly. It is that in this feature of the Renaissance, as in that political phase represented by Machiavelli, we see the human mind on the threshold of a new e:i, already indeed feeling the vast stirrings of its spirit, but as yet dream- -lency bevond the furthest limits "■"— lad not dawned on the « THE GREAT AOTWOMY, SECOND STAGE 303 3Jr.h*I*r'"*''^ "*'"'" »ignificance of the antithesis which these concepts had opened in the human mind • !^^ of' . '"^"^- °* * P''°*=«'* •" «'''^»> 'he whde penod of the era in which men were living, contained y'tZ-^^^rfy more than the opening phase of 1 wor d^rama in which the presenfwas being slowlj envisaged with a future to which it was to bf sul^5^ S • '"h 'I "^' '"^'y ^""'^•P" "f the huma^ Tnds „r ''''*'r'l'» 'he end to be broken to the ends of a social c/^-iency r of political consciousness, imaginations of men. a ml'*"' main tendencies of the Renaissance, as a movement liberating the human mind; all the t^T'" f :?' °' '"''"'■■y *hich produced the revival of art, of literature, and of research through! T^!°^ '• t^^ '•'' r ''"' movements in science L iTtfr If ''k"°''°P''^ "•'''='' •'"P""^' « ^« "hall see fetter, although men did not know it at the time, the beginning of the separation of the theo^r of the State from the principles of ethics and religion- were rl S^l: r' r' ^'' '° -tribu'te therme^" ing later in the developing process of our civilisation nnlr, Tu" "°"* "^ *•"*" 'hings. as yet. the life- pnnciple of the movement which is to carry the world bnTk 2 '"!° K*"' f "^" °' development towards the th. t ^"^ 1 ""^ ""^ *<^^''""''- The revival of the knowledge of the ancient civilisations ; the discov- ery of the world of which Columbus had dreamed; the "~dL « ^? cl..r.ct.n«ic «.tiU.«i. which we h.« throughoii «g«dri u the „olation.,y c.u« which di«4« the ™,iSc«« rf o»r«.fromth.tofUlU.ep.rthi«o,yofthe«ce "^""'^'^ "^ 304 WESTERN CIVIUSATION outlook on that infinite univerae which the works and theories of Copernicus, Bruno, and Galileo had already brought within range of the human imagination ; the printing press which was soon to spread rapidly the new tendencies in knowledge from mind to mind; — were all influences in Western thought powerfully stimulative of change. But all these principles and phases of human activity were but secondary and contributory. We have to look elsewhere to see the real forces of the revolution which is destined to carry our civilisation forward into its next stage, slowly gathering round their life' ""-'"« »' evltl'^ttn'^eHriLS^ *\^^'^^^^^ '^ *•>« when, with thew facts r^i "^"'^ *' P'""t«» of the Problertotl^S^t :« ''^ "?^* advancing in Western histoid JrlybX Z H* turns now from the outward events of th! p ' " gious upheavJof the sixteenth T"" ^""' '^' '*"- 306 WESTFRN OVIUSATION of the empire ; among the Swabian peasants and the Netherlandian burghers ;» nay, even in the shadow of the Curia itself, among the members of the " Oratory of Divine Love ; " » the question to which the atten- tion of men was again directed was the character of the profound antithesis opened in the human mind by the concspt of the insufficiency of human nature. Beneath al. the outward events of the time it is, we see, t'le nsertion of the conviction of the absolute impossibility of bridging that antithesis in any terms of the sufficiency of human nature itself which has begun once more to move towards its outward expres- sion in Western history. Looking therefore beneath the surface of the vast, tumultuous, and gloomy world in which tht movement known in history as the Reforui<.i<^.. was in progress, the first rjatter which attracts attention is the nature of the p.oblem upon which the Western mind had begun to concentrate itself. At the very heart of the organised ecclesiastical dominion, which for nearly a thousatid years had, throughout Western Europe, represented the greatest absolutism within which the human spirit had ever been confined, there had been opened a vast controversy. The underlying problem presented itself under a number of phases. On either side of it all the principal powers and forces repre- sented in our civilisation — all the jealousies and ambitions of the rising nationalities of Europe, all the resurgent activities of the Western mind now repre- sented in the Renaissance — were soon to berome » Cf. History of the ChrisHan Church, vol iii. 1517-1648, Wilhelm Moeller ; trs. J. H. Freew, i«t, 2nd, and 3d diviaiom. > a. Sanke'i Hitlory of At Popes, ii. % i. = THE GREAT ANTINOMY: SECOND STAGE 307 2h*5, .?"' °' '^' '""'^' "' *•>«' W««t'e. around which aU the accessory elements of conflict were ^„ S: "eS '° ""- ">- - "« - ^o^'^rZ essentud significance to one prindS fact ' Thfs wl partv tZ T "'^''^ """""« "P°» '"e minds oH party throughout our Western world, that in that Chlrafth:' '"'""•' "'"^'' had 'orgaiised th l-hurch, as the representative of absolute truth into ultTmir'?'^''*"*'^' ""•" *•'« State and restS ultimately on force-and by which, therefore the re .gjous^sitfon of the State, on the one hand, .^d of' thr ,dividual. on the other, were made dependent on ianc« T^r °' *"' ?""'^'^ authorityTnd ord- nances-the meaning of that profoundly significant antithesis opened ir. the human mind, by wS^e ndmdual sense of responsibility was pr;ject^tryo„d he m«ining of all systems of authority «pSne ttemselves through the present, had tendeji^ Zf manner, to become obscured or obliterated est uln r*""^'^' '•"" ''^°'>"i°»«t notes with inter- est, upon the concepts through which th,. antithesis "again tending to be expressed in its most extreme 2 the S"':"""^ '""^ "'°^""'="' ^"°- •" history stress o?tlr;°" T"''"''^*'"^ ''""^ ^^rough the the fl, , ''""" '""'"'y-' It "- f^r instance, iuLn t^'"^. ™""P"' °^ "the insufficiency human nature," of "the absolute incapacity o7the natural man for good," of '■ reconciliation,-^„d of a. Hutary of M<, faith was counted a crime against the State. Convicted heretics were punished by civil authority. Revolt like that of Ami Perrin, was visited with the utmost severity. For theological heterodoxy like that of Servetus the punishment was death at the stake, with Calvin's approval. Calvin, in short, to quote the words of an accepted authority, "pressed for the severest penal laws possible, and the merci- less execution of the same: pious authorities must be strict. Within five years fifty-eight death sen- tences and seventy-six banishments were carried out amongst the inhabitants of Geneva, who numbered about 20,000. ... The Consistor}- pcriormed the ' a. MoeUer. ^iu. ,f Or. am-ti, vol. M. dir. it chip. u. 393 WESTERN OVIUSATIOK III.- : ! functiont of a keen police board of morali, exercising a itrict watch, and acting on Calvin'i principle, that it is better that many innocent persons should be pun- ished than that one guilty person should remain unpunished." * Throughout Northern Europe the development continued with unabated pace. In Sweden dis- senters were banished by the civil authorities. The duty of the civil power to punish heretics was ex- pressed in the Swiss, Scottish, and Belgic " Confes- sions" of the new movement. Even the Anabaptists, mentioned towards the end of the seventeenth cen- tury by Bossuet as one of the only two bodies of Christians then known to him which uiU not main- tain the right of the civil magistrate to punish false doctrine," turned naturally to force for t'.;e suppres- sion of religious error in that disastroi-s experiment at government in MUnster which Karl Pearson has so graphically though characteristically described.* The ideas underlying the experiment of Calvin in Geneva profoundly impressed, as time went on, the religious life of Western Europe.* In England they were for » Cf. Modlei, ma. of Or. Church, toL ffl. dir. U. ch»p. il • Hist. Variat. Prtlalanta, Ut. x. chip. 56 ; c£ Lecky*"! Ewtf. Xad ToL ii. 53. • Elhir efFrtt Thti^U, bf Ktrl Peanon, pp. 263-313; cf. Modler, Jfitt. of Chr. Church, vol. Hi. dW. i. chap. t. p. 4. « "OaTin," u Mr. Morley hu taid, "ibtped the mould is which the broDie of Pnrituiinn wm cut. That comnumding figure, of luch yaft power, yet iomehow with w litUe luatre, by his unbending will, his pride, hii iCTerity, hi« French ipirit cf lyitem, hi« gift for government, for legiilation, for dialectic in every field, hii incomparable mduitiy and pertiitence, had conquered a more than pontifical ascendency in the ProtCTtanl world. He meet! m in England, ai in Scotland, Holland France, Switzerland, and the riring England acroM the Atlantic. He a THE GREAT AOTWOMY. SECOND STAGE 323 Of Knox, they became the buii of that severe, con.i.t- enteccle.uut.cal republicani.m which moved Moel"er o admiration ;. i„ which the ideal of the StateTrom the begmning wa. a theocracy of the itemest type- in which the civil law wa. the arm of the ChS aga.n.t offender.; and in which the authoritie. were expected to purge the State of fal.e doctrine after the while"',? h * ^'°"' •'""«'' "^ '"^"'•' And thi. even whie at the wme t.me-as during the greater part of he reign of the Stuarts - there wa., at the in^ gation of the Scotch bishop, (themselvei rl^^lSg the Reformation movement in another pha.e), directed ZT "' '''^. ''"'""'» "«"" -'-» 'hi.Td3 rested, a per.ecution which left it. mark deep on the Scottish mind and character, in which the Presbytc nan. were hunted and tortured by the civil power and transported as criminal, to the Barbados.* N.po.».. He buUt i. dl upon . certain tiJ^J^t ot upon the wor d " (OA«r Cr,„„,u. by Right Hon. John Morley) '"In England, 1* the end of Elizabeth', reign," «™ S^fi-or G^d„.e,...,h, doctrine, taught and accepted l^h vaTnu^riro ™ OWmutic {C.«**«»w^W«*» ./«, ^v,^. ^^* .^ • ^"/. ./«, Clr. CW4, vol. iii. p. 3 ; „d di,. .h.p a . „^ ^^ . chap. ' 7a« Jliu t/Jtatumalum in Euroft, toL U. /fcV. Tii iii. 5th div. chap. p. 41. S«4 WESTERN CIVILI8ATI(»f But it mt in England that the tendency reached iti freett and most characteristic development Here the forces, representing the new ideas, armed them- selves almost from the beginning with civil power. This was used at first against those supporting the pre-Reformation principles. But soon the force* rep- resenting the various tendencies within the post- Reformation developnrtnt entered in Engknd upon a struggle amongst themselves of altogether excep- tional bitterness, intensity, and duration; in which iucce-^s from time to time appeared to favour no-v one party and now another. It became in time such a struggle of each for mastery as has been paralleled nowhere else in the world. Out of it, at the end of a prolonged period of profound political and religious convulsion, there began to emerge slowly into the tight of men the principle of a new epoch of human evolution ; that ruling principle which, in a scientific division of Western time, will in future be seen to divide the Middle Ages from the modern world. For nearly two centuries beneath the shifting scenes of this struggle in England, only one idea continued to occupy the minds of all the combatants, namely, the deadliness of the liberty of religious error, and the necessity, therefore, for enlisting the arm of civil authority against it. For 140 years, from the pass- ing of the Act of Uniformity in 1549 to the Tolera- tion Act of 1689, the statute book of England presents one of the most extraordinary records in the history of our civilisation, in the long list of measures with which it armed the civil authority from time to time with repressive powers against what the ruling party for the time being considered to be false doctrine. a THE ORKAT ANTINOIIYi SECOND WAGE 325 When the combatant* in the ttruggle in progreu in England croMcd the AtUntic and sought a refuge for their Ideas in the New England settlement., the prin- eiple wh..„ neld men's minds still carried them for. ward to the same result. Massachusetts early became the centre of colonies on the other side of the Atlantic where the refugees endeavoured to cany out their Ideas of theocratic States which rested, in the last resort, on exactly the same alliance — between civil authority and a particular interpretation of religious doctnne believed to be right — as they had left behind them at home. Decidedly liberal and democratic as were the refugees' ideals at first, their ecclesiastical conceptions soon turned in favour of the enforcement of strict conformity to law ; » and the right of the civU authorities to punish lapses from the accepted doc- tnne was in time, in more than one of the New Eng- land colonies, exercised with as great severity as by the Presbyterians at home.* In England itself the stem logic of facts pro- gressed slowly through history to the last analysis, m a series of events the evolutionary significance of which has even as yet hardly reached the general mwd. As we read between the lines of the Grand Remonstrance presented to the king in 1641, on the eve of the great struggle of the civU war, we see how inexorable were the tendencies of the development m which both sides alike were caught. In the clauses numbered from 183 to i8;,» the aim of the times is most clearly set forth. It was to secure the enforce- ment through the State, and as against the king, of ' MoeUer, «iC. 0/ Or. CiurO, toL iu. sth dir. c. ia * lUA CcmtituHonalDcaimtntscftlu Puritan KnolMon, No. 43. P S3« WESTERN aVIUSATICN the religious opinions of the party behind it. In the words of Professor Gardiner, "there was to be no toleration of nonconformity, the plan of the fiamers of the Grand Remonstrance was to substitute the general enforcement of their own form of Church government and worship for that which had recently been enforced by the authority of the king and the bishops." * One of the most remarkable of recent contributions to our knowledge of the Cromwellian period in Eng- land has been made by Professor Gardiner, in bring- ing to light the single due'which, going deeper than any of the merely political interpreUtions of that period, underlies all the apparently conflicting policies and experiments in government undertaken by Crom- well. "After the violent dissolution of the Long Pariiament," says Professor Gardiner, " Cromwell in turn supported systems as opposed to one another as those of the Nominated Parliament, the Instrument of Government, arbitrary rule with the help of the major- generals, the new Parliamentary Constitution of the Humble Petition and Advice ; and to all appearance would have rallied to yet another plan if uis career had not been cut short by death." Yet in all these acts one consistent aim and determination is traced by Professor Gardiner. To use his actual words : " In England the whole struggle against regal power had been carried on by a minority." But in this struggle what appeared to Cromwell as the one thing necessary above all others, was that " the whole bur- den of government in the interest of the nation must • CmuHluHimal Dotumtnit of Ikt PtirUan RimOuHan, Intra p. xzxix. a THE GREAT AMTINOMY: SECOND STAGE 327 be entrusted to a minority composed of the godly or honest people of the nation, in the hope that the broad views and beneficent actions of this minority would m time convert it into a majority. So far as I know, Cromwell never swerved from this view of the national requirements. To tkt end of his life he strove to maintain the ascendency of a Puritan ott- No one familiar with the inner hUtoiy of the period m question will doubt that in this matter Prof-ssor Gardiner is right ;» and that, in the statement of the aim expressed in the words here put into italics, he has correctly interpreted the inner purpose of Crom- weu. It was, in short, in this purpose — the mainte- nance of an oligarchy founded on religious opinion as opposed to another oligarchy also, in the last resort, founded on religious opinion -that we have the real secret of the Cromwellian epoch in England. It was the same aim which underlay alike the struggle apmst the regal power and the execution of the king the purge of Pariiament, and the scheme for the government of England through the major-generals The method varied from the absolutist standards of the past to what were the forms, and at times almost the spirit, of the later principle of tolerance to which men were being compelled to rise. But it was still always, as yet, one clear ideal— the ascen- dency in the State, and the alliance with civil authority, ral^^^^* Conrtitotion.! AioB." bjr b. R. G.rdin«, Cont^nfi rary Kevtew, No. 409. •Comp^ecloMlyfa thi. connection the Docmncnt "DecUr.tio« S, u™ I » ,'^" ""^ "" ^"''"' '"' "" ■"'"ol-Mon of the Long Jil^^r. 95) '*"""' """""^ °^'^ '^*"' ^"^"^'^ 338 WESTERN aVIUSATION eajir. of a system of religious doctrines believed to be right — which held the mind even of the parliamentary leader in this fateful turning period of English history. It is absolutely necessary, if we would obtain a clear view of the meaning of the world-process devel- oping beneath oui eyes, that the existence of this large group of facts should be kept well before the mind, and that its purport in the development of our civilisation should not be missed. It would seem, if the endeavour continues to be made to preserve a position of detachment froin all preconceived ideas, that we are confronted in history at this point with a deeper truth than is to be distinguished, at first sight, in any of the controversies of the time. It is not the aspect of these controversies as men were regarding them, but the development which the religious consciousness is itself slowly undergoing beneath the events of the time that calls for atten- tion. It is the development in which we catch a first distant glimpse of the only condition under which it is possible to conceive the emancipation of the future being accomplished in the evolutionary process in history — the condition, that is to say, in which the human mind is destined to be compelled to rise to a conception of truth in which the principle of tolerance is to be held in the only way in which it can ever become permanently operative in the world, namely, as an ultimate conviction of the religious consciousness — which holds the scientific imagina- tion.i Viewed in this light, we see that it was, in ' Compare Curd'i mbaafky «- „ . religion. «t, «d not . mere coB»«,tion nued on conrenience - a conne of ution founded on the prinoDle of reciprocilj- ' (Craw ta Gay, p. 159). imnopie « I S30 WKTEXN CIVIUSATION it, :,C » ning — leading to the slow dissociation of the reli- gious consciousness from all ultimate alliance with the authority of the State. But on the other side of the process the separation of civil authority — claiming through the conception of divine right in the State— from its association with the religious consciousness has progressed equally, through all the events of history, with almost the same inexorable consistency of the law of gravitation. At the beginning of the Iveformation period in England we see the ruling sovereign* told by his advisers, that in the act af his breach with Rome, and in constituting himself the only supreme head of the Church in his dominions, he was but restoring the Church in England to a position similar to that which it occupied on the continent of Europe in the age of Charlemagne. He himself imagined that he was at least allying the despotic civil power of the house of Tudor with the principle of divine right in the State. Yet we see him as but a cork on the stream of history. At a later stage Elizabeth, as the movement progressed, was also rotdy to ally her own government with the new forces in religion; these forces being in the main those which bore her to success and triumph.' But in the middle of her career we see her reminded by a Scottish deputa- tion, that there must also be considered to be latent in the theory of divine right in the State, as it was now understood, the doctrine that nations were in the last resort superior to the sovereir^ns who dif- » Hmiy VIIL * CmuHtulumil Otauuiitt tf Jtit PurUa» Rmhitun, Intro, it, bjr S. R. Gmrdiner. a THE GREAT ANTINOMYi SECOND STAGE 331 fered from them. Still later, James I. and his son Charles I. saw in the alliance between their own authority and that of the established Episcopal Church in England the form of government that, in the words of the chronicler, "best compared with their own idea of monarchical power."" But the stem Calvinists behind the Long Parliament were rrady to support, and did support through all the bitter consequences of the overthrow of Charles and the ascendency of Cromwell, the assertion that the theory of divine right in the State, as it had come to be now understood, was in their opinion associated with quite other conceptions of civil government. Later yet we see neither the civil authority for the time being nor Presbyterianism itself, after it had reached the notable position of Influence which it occupied in Englan-' the period of the West- minster Assembly, finu.i.^ any firm principle in the alliance between the ideals represented by the two. And still later we see Cromwell, in the remarkable passage already quoted, ever striving and yet ever failing, alike under the forms of freedom as under the principles of despotism, to secure through the Puritan ascendency in England the same alliance between the civil power of the State and a particular interpreta- tion of religious doctrine. Again and again, through a hundred channels of authority in England the doc- trine had been preached of the deadly sinfulness of resistance to the ruling civil authority. But in the midst of the vast transition in progress it happened, as has been said, that "doctiines concerning the sin- ' MotUer, Hist, of "kr. Church, vol. Ui, p. 345. .11 333 WESTERN aVIUSATION 'Is P'^ fulneM of rebellion which were urged with the most dogmatic certainty and supported by the most terrific threats, swayed to and fro with each vicissitude of fortune."' They changed with the passing ascen- dency of every interest of the time. And so the inevitable development of the cosmic drama continued in history. It had been supposed that the authority of the Church had passed to the king. But with the close of the Puritan Revolution in England the great end which had been attained — that end by the accomplishment of which, as has been rightly insisted, the restohition of Charies II. was alone made possible — was, that the predominance of Parliament in the Church and over the bishops had been in turn substituted for that of the king.* This was the beginning of the final stage. In the second Revolution, completed twenty-eight years later with the flight of James II., and producing as its result the Toleration Act and the BUI of Rights, there be- gan in England the modem era of parliamentary government by the system of mutually opposing parties. In this final transition, the steps of which cany us down into our own time, the inevitable end was already in sight For it had become at last only a matter of time when there must necessarily be accomplished in England the emancipation, now in turn, of the religious consciousness from the control of Parliament, in a pariiaraentary system in which all the leading parties in the State were necessarily represented. • Hitttry of Sttitnmlitm in Einfe, toI. B. pp. 19S-199. • C entHtH t it n at DstmatHts if At furitxn Rcsabitutt, Istio. xmiii. iBdlnii. !|. « THE GREAT ANTINOMY. SECOND STAGE 333 li* T '""'"*^** "" Engluh-ipeaking people. hu .B„en«> dnuaa of progress was first reacS ta the course of inevitable development. In one ofthe .n the Enghsh-speaking settlements in America, the SrwhthTH*" ""^ "•""' '"' '°«^ •'"'S, s causes which had operated in England, was more «p.d «d more definite. In English%eaki!?Amer! ^S„ r.K'" *».'»'""'>««'" and endowment of RevT.- ^K 5* """ ^''- Af'*^ 'he American Revolution had turned the colonies into State., ever^ State in which such an establishment exis.^th.^ .t ofiF. some by a sudden effort, like Virginia, some by No TeHrf" K ' ^*'""«=««="' «»d Massachusetts'^ No new State has ever set it up."i In the fir.» arUde of those in addition to and'in ame^dmenf the Constitution of the United States, proposed by Congrew to the Legislature, of the Sta?«i «th September 1789. and ratified 1789^,. a u at W ««ct^ that: "Congres. shall mZ^n^ J'r^'pet Z tZ '•'*''.'"'"»«'>' of ««gion or prohibiUng the free exercise thereof."* Slowly, but with ever! and brought home to men's minds the fact that they were yet for long to refuse to admit in principle 934 WESTERN CIVILISATION ■ ' W H ■ f' s I ^1^ !'■ 1 i. m ntmely, that the grounda upon which there had hitherto rested that greatest ot all despotisms of the present — that which must of necessity express itself through the alliance of civil authority with a form of religious belief conceived as concerned with the great- est of all human interests — had been unce and for ever struck away from it in our civilisation. We, therefore, see at last in true perspective — and as constituting but the details of a single develop- mental process in history — all the events in the movement, prolonged over seven centuries, which began with the struggle bfetween Pope Gregory VII. and the Emperor in the eleventh century, and which reached its issue at las*- in the definite terms regis- tered in the Constitution of the United States of America. In the article in the American Constitu- tion just quoted, we have in Western history the first complete expression remaining unchanged to the pres- ent day, of the actual projection of the controlling consciousness of the system of religious belief asso- ciated with our civilisation beyond all the forms and principles of the present ; beyond the content of all systems of authority whatever in which it had hitherto been imprisoned within the bounds of political con- sciousness. The most significant turning-point within the horizon of Western history had been passed. Un- seen, unrealised ; to be for centuries yet but tacitly acknowledged, but dimly comprehended, or even en- tirely misunderstood of men, the ruling principle of a new era in the developmental process at work in human history had risen into ascendency in the world. Along one line of intellectual development the Western mind has yet to reach, in the inexorable » THE o«i.r .momn. sKom „^ „, ness— before the real nature is fully nerceivwi «f n. era that have pa«ed.i It i, only in the first light "f of .uch cnticsm and competition as has never Sn STch^^";. ^ h '""""'' "">'''' --«"«'S«" ui Which all the phenomena of progress and nf tt,- free conflict which prevails, remafn ^"112' underlying cause; namely, that the ultimate LnTrel ^ng pnnciples of human action have been p^e ^ ^'or of ^r'*'"' °' ''' 'y''"^' whateverTfnter est or of authority in the present inSliliiVth "'?'''? «J«P^ important to note here, passing, the significance of the conditions in which /M^«^. h.nc.fon«d become. cl«*ly vWble in the hijri«l ffo/i t doMd in tlw Ugomina a any ftOurt Mtta- pioecM. h L 336 WBSTBIUI aVILUATlON 1 lii: ■ ■P -Lj. mn this result wm attained. It ha* been pointed out that the neceuary fact accompanying the projection of the controlling centre of the evolutionary proccM out of the present, has been the attainment by the human mind of such a conception of truth as was absolutely unknown to it during the epoch which cul- minated in the ancient civilisations, and as remained entirely foreign to it during almost seventeen centu- ries of our era ; namely, the conception of truth as the net resultant of forces and standards apparently in themselves opposed and conflicting. It was, ac- cordingly, among the peoples where the vast conflict of the movement following the Reformation reached its most characteristic development that the condi- tions tending most to produce this result prevailed. It was among the English-speaking peoples of Eng- land and America — constituting the representatives of the most purely German of the political systems which sprang from the ruins of the Roman empire, constituting in particular the only large group of Northern peoples who attained to political maturity free from the old-worid shadow of the ancient civilisa- tions,' and almost free from the old-world spirit of the Roman law,'— that this result of the Reformation, transforming in its future consequences, slowly, but only slowly, began to be visible in our Western world. It is in this projection of the controlling centre of the religious consciousness of our civilisation out of the present, expressing itself in a principle of toler- > CT. Ctmfarativt Politia, by E. A. FKcman, pp. 4^ 47. • a. CimliuauH dmring «u MiMt Aps, by G. B. Kitaa, p. 325- Cf, alw Bryc«'9 xRosiuB *ad Ea^Mi Uw" ia Stadia in MittiryanJ JmitfntAm»,Z.^ % i a THE GR«4T AMTINOMY. 8BC0ND OTAOE 337 •nee, held in the hut re««t « . religion, principle, and therefore ifelf becoming iron af the point « which .t. own principle of tolerwce i. th^itened. that we have the moM lemarlcable. a. it U the m^t charactenitic, «,ult of the .evolutionary procei. in "" ^r*™ *«1'1- We .haU pre«ntlyhave to"eS with It m iti wider aspect as a cause behind all the ph«o«ena of modem progrcM. But the movement *^.ch ha. produced it ha. been «, prolonged; it. effect, are «, deep, m far-reaching, and on .0 large a •cale; they he. moreover. «. yet m> largely in the future; -that no .ystem of modem philosophy ha. a. yrt «!« It whole. And the intellectual prcJccs" which m the modem era of our dvili«ition has pro! gressed side by side with the historical process in which the result has been accomplished, has itself been on a scale so vast that the horison of iu mean- ing has hitherto fallen beyond the view even of the minds which have most assisted in working out its pnnciples. ^ " But the main outline of that meaning, as it ha. begun at la.t to come within the field of intellectual vision, 1. very remarkable: Side by side with the process just referred to. in which, in the dissocia- tion of the reUgious consciousness from all alliance with ciyil authority, we have the outward historical expression of the projection of the controlling centre Of the evolutionary process beyond the bounds of political consciousness, it may be noticed that there are to be distinguished in modem thought two main streams of tendency. Each of these, involving a development incomplete in itself, and forming but an outward symptom of a deeper movement beneath 338 WtSTERN aVIUSATION % ^ in I hat slowly but inevitably progreited in our time towards the exhibition of its own insufficiency. In one of these developments we follow from the Ref- ormation onward through modem times, first of all in English and later in German thought, a slowly descending line of search after the principle of author- ity in politics allied with the sanction of the system of religious belief awociated with our civilisation. The ideal of this quest may be said to have reached its last attenuation in Western thought in the Hege- lian conception of civil authority in the Christian Sute.> In the other development we follow a long-sus- tained, but also gradually faltering quest of the intel- lect, to find, in the interests of the existing political SUte alone, the sole ruling principle in our social evolution. This development takes its way through the literature of the French Revolution into the Utili- tarian conception* of Bentham and the Mills ; and in its turn it may be said to have reached, as Laveleye has correctly pointed out, its last logical inferences in Western thought in the purely materialistic theo- ries of Marxian socialism.* Down to the present time the Latin mind in our civilisation has tended to swing between the extreme logical expression of the concepts underlying these two ideals — between the principles of the pre-Reformation period, in which the Church is regarded as the ultimate and > Compmre John Henry Newmftn'i Apologia Pro Vita S^a, char. i. (to the year 1833), for * Mnie of the failure of thii conceftion reached in a Kction of Fngliih religioui thought in the first quarter of the siaetefi^th ceatttry. ' Cf. Tlu EngtitA UHlilariani, by Leilie Stephen, toL UL pp. « THB OMAT ANmOMY. 8I00ND STAOB ,,9 •aprene power in the orgMiwtion of dvU .uthority •nd the principle, of the poUty of the ancient S «tion. in which the m.teriiUi.tic Sute i. «la Sei u confining within it.elf the whole theo,> of hu™.1 end. and ,ntere.t.. It i. principally ia the EnS .peaking world that the profound 'evolutional^ ± nificance of the brger .y„the.i. of knowledge whh Sbl^ Th"e fi T **" development. .. Lomi^ vuible. The fir.t a.pect of it ha. already wi»h in «ght h.« di.tin^Uhed by Sir F;SS T loSc" m the a»^.on already referred to'-that the chw- ^^T. T'* '^ •" '"'=*'" Engli.h thought „ applied to the «:ience of «,ciety ha. been a dear^ defined p,»gre„, „ot toward, the ideal, of either of thew movement^ but toward. .„ch a complete .eoa- ration of all the field of analytical politick cien^'^ on the one hand from what ha, become the domS o ethic and religion, on the other, a. ha. taken place nowhere else in our dviliwtion." ' ffuMry ./Of Sana ./PMHa, pp. i.j.,,. or the effect of recent teDdendee ia EadUt thoucht u thw™!^! «^Wch r" T"^"* ""■e«o .0 «cei«d coUectire „mt "d which he prooHid, to p«,»i.io„,Uy detigMte " Nomolon •• we m concerned, he «,,, rimply with the Ki.ncTof the office S Jl^ mora^ «,en«. h.™g tho. been g™.p.d „,<,„ n. ^^j „, j, "* «dtf V* T' •''""•*'*^"'" " ''' ""f<»-i'Xof the wiU to . X Z^, "> • ™^«. « pui br the former u foreign to our .object. „d «.n«l no longer reUt. to uiy kind WESTERN avnJSATION This result, entirely absent in rountriet when the standards of the pre-Reformation period still prevail,* largely absent, as yet, even in Germany and ia German thought, where the development which has followed the Reformation has left the religious consciousness still deeply entangled with the theory of the State," is itself the distinctive mark of the advanced stage which the evolutionary process has reached in the English-speaking world. It is the necessary accom- paniment and the outward sign of the actual accom- plishment of that vast transition we have been here describing, in which, with the projection of the con- trolling centre of the evolutionary process out of the present, a rule of law has been finally differentiated budtudoiu, bat ue umplsr « gatal nUt of hnmu udon enforced by • Kvereigii poUUc«l authoritjr" (Tit Eltmmtx of /urupndina, hj Thomu Enkiu H jlUind, chap, iii) . Compare with this Sir Frederick FoHock'i mertion, that in Engliih thought the ualjrticil bruch of political Kience hai become altogether independent of ethical theorice, " And that i> the definite acisntific renlt which we in Enj^d nj that the work of the paat centnry haa giren na" {Uimry cf du Scitna of foNMa, pp. IIJ-II4). I For inatance, at a conference of the biahopa of Spdn, held at Bnrgoe in September 1899, aerenteen principlea of action in the State were foimnlated. " Amongit thoee enumerated in a luimnary given in the Times wtrt that ' toleration ihould be confined to the.narroweat limit allowed by the Conatitution,' that ' no ecdeaiaatic ihould be pun- iahed by the ordinary civil courti of jnitice,' that martiagaa by the Church ahould alwaya have civil eBect, that biahopi ahould recover legaciea firom piouB teitaton without any faitervention of hiy authority, and that all ■nociationa which are not Catholic ahould be prohibited." • Cf. Hegel'i Pkihsofhy of Ri^, pt. iii. «ec. iiL {{ aS7-36oi and Phitosophy offfiitery, Intro, and pt iv. Hegel aa yet law in the poit- Reformation development in the German State only " the reconciliation of religion with leg>! right," and " no religioui conacience in a itate of aeparation ftbm, or perhapi even hoitility to, aecular right " {Pkilosopky tflzistory, pt. iv. sec. iii. chap. iii.). "Av. n THE GREAT ANTINOMY. SECOND STAGE 34, from « rule of religion. It i, a result the completion rf which marks the beginning of an enti«ly new <^ of synthesis in Western thought /"""era But its meaning U as yet scarcely at all understood o«U.de the pale of the Lnglish-speaking world." wJS «~i^T*^ J° °" ""^'™ P"*^" » ««rt«in double Mpcct which w responsible for one of the most curious Illusions of our time. Mr. Biyce has remarked on one of the litUe understood phelmena onhetl^t We of the United States of America, na .,lyX Ll foniT^'r °*J'* ""«*'•"' conscious.«s^from all forms of cml authority, existing side by side with =n mtensity o belief in the acceptance of the fT™ or ^ous belief associated with our civilisation, a™ of the Standards of conduct which it prescribes, as one of the mam causes with which a great national d^ my is Wentified.. By many, howe^r. who Ze forlong followed under one of the phases of thought h«e discussed, the ever-increasing concentration in the Enghsh-speakmg world of the social mind on the utOitarian aspect of the political sciences. «id the heory of the State which it involves, there is a con tmuous tendency to imagine-that emptiest of all Kl^^t ^* ** *• ^'^ "«• •brtncdon which th. JIl!^^ = -s»'«fr»' *bi»ki„,ft./c™„„n;s.fc S; the Americam coneeire that th« relifioiii ohu»cter of . rn^L^, ^ i. »«U«g h^ th. r.B^»* ,i.f -S^Ta^vi^r:^' «djh. coaf„rm«r otth^ir conduct to that b.h.f. Tb.r <•..« ^, ( Ti, A^ru^n C^m.nw«,M, by J«n.. B,,„, voL iL chap. cvi.> ii J t! i 343 WESTERN aVIUSATION dreams to the evolutionist who has once perceived the nature of the process in which human develop- ment is involved — that the direction of advance in Western history is, therefore, again to subordinate all human activities, as in the ancient civilisations, to the social consciousness as expressed through the State.* The real secret of our Western world — the cause, as we shall see directly, of all its extraordinary and ever-growing efficiency in history — consists, on the contrary, in the fact that the controlling centre of the evolutionary process therein has been at last projected altogether beyond the content of political consciousness. We are living, in short, in Western history in the midst of a movement in which through the whole realm of art, of ethics, of literature, of philoso- phy, of politics, and of religion, there runs the under- tone of a cosmic struggle in which - ow, not only the individual and all his powers, but society itself, with all its aims and efforts, is being slowly broken to the ends of a social efficiency no longer included within the limits of political consciousness. It is in the processes of this struggle, the single acts of which extend themselves over centuries, that Natural Se- lection is discriminating between the living, the dying, and the dead among modem peoples. It is a world in which, with the passing of the present under the control of the future, there is being accom' plished for the first time in the development of the race the emancipation of the future in the present > TUt ta dw idei tgaiiut which Mr. Herbert Spencer mty be pei^ cefaredto beHraggliBg in the Ewiji iadoded in Tltt Mm tnrnu l»t a THE GXEAT ANTINOMY. SECOND STAGE 343 It is the world, therefore, in which aU the imperiums in which the present had hitherto strangled the inter- ests of the greater future, are in process of slow disintegration, and in which we have, in consequence^ entered upon an era of such a free rivalry of forces as has never been before in the history of the race. It is tr the consideration of such a world that we have now to address ourselves. There are, proceed- ing from the conditions here described, two leading facts of our time, the significance of which will in aU piobabUity be fully visible within a cen.ury to come. The first is, tUat the leading place in our civUisatioii has passed to the peoples amorgst whom there has first been accomplished this result of the projection of the controUing centre of the evolutionary process out of the present in the long-drawn-out struggle which has here been described. The other result, already becoming visible beneath the profoundly complex life of the United States of America, con- stitutes probably the most pregnant and remarkable fact in modem history. It is that the actual life- centre of the system of religious belief associatsd with our civilisation has been definitely shifted for the present within the pale of the activities of these peoples. UW. N: CHAPTER X THE UODBRN WORLO-CONPUCT As soon as the mind has endeavoured to realise the nature of the position outlined in the last chapter, it is impossible to avoid receiving a deep imprcojion of the significance of its bearing on the complex move- ment of development, which, under many phases, is unfolding itself beneath our eyes in the modem world- process. If we have been right so far, we appear to have in sight a single controlling principle, the opera- tion of which div-'des, as by a clear line of demarca- tion, the meaning of the era in which we are living from that of all the past history of the race. We are regarding an integrating process, the larger meaning of 7hich is still in the future, the first stage of which has occupied nearly two thousand years, and into the influence of which all the tendencies of development m our civilisation are being slowly and incrruingly drawn. The impression made at first 3ight on the mind by the character of the position reached loses nothing on reflection. On the contrary, the tendency IS rather for it to grow and deepen as the nature of the transition in which the future is being emanci- pated in history is bett^ r understood. In the modem conflict between tendencies in ethics, in the State, in govemment, in national development, and in univer- sal politics, it is the meaning of the struggle between the futur*- and the present which weights all the 344 CHtf . Z THE MODERN WORLD^XMJFUCT 345 P;^M« of the intellect and all the development, of int7.tJ I ""' *!?'' P*°P''' *'"' '^^ competitors n he struggle may have any theoty they pW of the.r mterests, or of the ends or ideis of p^li^or of government. But. if the principle of Projected Efficjency be accepted as operating in society in the conditions described, then in respect of none of these alone will they retain their places in the conflict. The winning conditions in the struggle are determined They are those of the people who already most effi- ciently bear on their shoulders in the preset, the bur- den of the pnnciples with which the meaning of a process mfin.te in the future is identified. Let us see, therefore if we can foUow, into the midst of the cmrent Itfe of the time, the application of that prin- ciple under which we see the ascendency of the Ls- en* moving now towards its challenge throughout the whole range of the modem world-conflict If the mind is fixed on that period of Western hi^ toiy which begins at the point up to which we had advuiced with the close of the last chapter - that is to say with the opening of the eighteenth century, and which thence extends down into the midst of the time in which we are living-there are certain fea- tures of the epoch embraced which immediately arrest attention. Between the dates mentioned the« is in- duded an mteryal of time so altogether remarkable in rewlts that to institute any real parallel between it and a previous period of histoiy is impossible. It may be imagined that at the beginning of the eigh- teenth asntuiy it must have appeared to the reflective mind, that, so far as progress in the arts and sciences and m general material results were concerned, the i= F ;S4* WESTERN CIVIUSATION cKir. interval which, up to that time, had been placed be- tween our civilisation and that of the ancient Roman world had not been, on the whole, very coniideiable. Yet since that time — that is to say, during a brief period of some two hundred years — our Western world has been transformed. The increase in natural resources, in wealth, in population, and in the distance which has been placed between our modem civilisa- tion and any past condition of the race, has been enormous. During the last half of this period, that is to say, during the nineteenth century alone, while the population of the rest ohhe world remained nearly stationary, the actual numbers of the European peo- ples rose from i7o,ooo,oc» to soo,ooo,ooo.» The im- petus from which this increase proceeded continues, moreover, to be so immense that we may even accept the assertion that there is "a reasonable probabUity that, unless some great internal change should take place in the ideas and conduct of the European races themselves, this population of 500^000,000 will in another century become one of 1,500,000,000 to 2,000,000,000 ";• the remainder of the population of the world being, so far as can be seen, destined to re- main comparatively stationary. These figures are to be taken only as an index to the stupendous changes which have taken place, and which are still in progress, beneath the surface of life and thought throughout the entire fabric of our civili- sation. It matters not in what direction we look, the character of the revolution which has been effected is > Aiiras to Ot UancktUer StoHiHtal Smtty, Octoba 1900, by Sir Robert Gi8«i, m p. 15. » THE MODERN WORLD-CONFUCT 347 *^-.^';., '" '"^'nt'on". in commerce, in the arts of ayiliMd life, in most of the theoretical and applied saence., and in nearly every department of investi- gation and research, the progress of Western know ledge and equipment during the period in question has been stnlcmg beyond comparison. In many directions It has been so great that it undoubtedly exceeds in this bnef period the sum of all the previous advance made by the race. A significant feature, too, is that the process of change and progress has continued and still contin- ues to grow in intensity. The results obtained, for instance, during the nineteenth century, altogether exceed in range and magnitude those achieved durine the eighteenth. The results of the second half of the nmeteenth century similarly surpass in importance those of the first half. And yet never before has the expectancy with which the world waits on the future been so intense as in the time at which we have ar- nved. There is warcely an important department of practical or of speculative knowledge which is not pregnant with possibilities greater than any that have already been achieved. Such is the nature of eziM. ing Western conditions, that there is scarcely any appliance of civilisation, however weU established ; scarcely any invention, however all-embracing its hold on the world, which the well-informed mind is not prepared to see entirdy superseded within a oompara- tively brief period in the future. The movemente which have been develophig be- neath the face of history and to which these outward results are related are still more remarkable. This vast advance has been accompanied by conditioiis of I,' ( 4:'A ! I '" ■ ■ 1 ■ ; ■ 34S WBSTEiiM cnnusATiaif the npid diiintegratton of all abwlutiims within which the human spirit had hitherto been confined. In a world moving towardf the emancipation of the future in such a free conflict of force* as has never been possible before, all the speculations, the opin- ions, the beliefs, and the institutions through which the ascendant present had hitherto shut down on the activities of the human mind, have tended to be more and more deprived of the support of those oiganised imperiums in human affairs through which the pres- ent had imposed itself upon the world in the past.* It has been the age of the unfettering of discussion and of competition; of the enfranchisement of the individual, of classes, of parties, of opinions, of com- merce, of industry, and of thought. Into the result- ing conditions of the social order all the fortes, powers, •nd equipments of human nature have been unloosed. It has been the age of the development throughout our civilisation of the conditions of such rivalry and strenuousness, of such conflict and stress, as has never prevailed in the world before. It is, however, the actual vitality, the undoubted permanence of the principle from which this progress proceeds, which finally leaves the deepest impression on the mind. When wo realise, however dimly, the real nature of the ultimate principle in ^hich all the movement around us has its origin ; when we stand in the midst of the rushing tide of the life of New York or Chicago, and catch sight of the actual re- lationship between the deq^eated, inherent anti- nomies of the £n^sh-speaking world as they were • Cf. "Tlie Tnt American Spkft in Litenrtaw," Atlaiilte J^citOfy, *aL hxxir, CIttdn Jakiutaii. « THE MOOEXN WORLD^XJNFUCT 349 di«M^ in the h.t chapter. «,d the fierce .tre.. and freedom of American life, industry, and progrtu at the present day ;- an overwhelming senw of^ character of the future take, powewion of the mind. It .s the pnnciples of our Western civUisation a* Sr^t*K f^ll""/ °° °"""' "»** ''« *««' "« dw- tmed to hold the future of the world. It is not into the end but mto the beginning of an em that we have been born. One of those fateful turning P«ioda in which a new determining principle hw b^n to operate in the evolutionary process has been passed. We are living in the midst of a system of thmgs by the side of which no other system will in the end survive as a rival in the world. What, then, is the nature of this cause which is at work in our Western world, and which has simulta. neouriy affected with such stupendous results so many spheres of human activity f What is this new ruling principle which appears to have risen into the ascendant in Western history? There can be no doubt as to what the answer to this question must be. We are m sight of the working in the world of that pnnciple with which the civilisation of our era had been pregnant from the beginning, and which vraa slowly bora into the world during the long stress of the development described in the previous chap. ters. By the gradual projection of the controlling meaning of the evolutionary process beyond the bounds of political consciousness, and by the result- ing dissolution of all the absolutisms in which the hitherto ascendant present had strangled the future, we are being brought into contact with the first re- suits of the actual working in hirtory of the mort Hi 350 WESTERN aVILISATION out. effective cause of progreta that has ever prevailed in the world. And it is inevitable that before the viril- ity and efficiency of the system of social order pro- ceeding from it, all other systems whatever must in the end go down. In the midst of the reconstruction that has been taking place in the modem world — a reconstruction so profound that entire systems of thought have, as we have seen, mistaken for a time even the direction in which we have been moving — it is not easy for the mind to grasp at once thA reach of the process which thus connects all the apparently complex phenomena of change and progress of our time with an under- lying principle of the evolutionary process so simple and yet so far-reaching. Let us see now if it is possi- ble to bring directly home to the mind some concep- tion of the manner in which this principle actually works, as the determining cause behind the phe- nomena of modem progress. Now it is necessary to keep in view from this point forward a fact the overshadowing significance of which will be more clearly realised in the next chap- ter. It may be distinguished that, as the result of the developments described in the preceding chap- ters, the evolutionary process must in the next stage in Western history cany us into the midst of a supreme struggle, the outlines of which are already in sight. The controlling principle to which all the events of social development must become related as this stmggle defines itself is very remarkable. It in volves nothing less than the challenge of the ascend- ency of the present in the economic process in the whole domain of human activities throughout the world. « THB MOOBRN WORUWOOTUCr 35, ti^iJH "^ '^'P'"""" "f the activitie. of our time which teem* to the ordinaiy observer to be ..-^r. remote from. «d to have le« ««.Sr„ wS, th! pnnaple of the projection of the co„tirc'«;: of the evolutionary proce,. outride the limit, of n^ htical co„K ou.ne... than that which i. emblJd^ rte economic life of our civili«tion. By W f„4" nec"e.l?,vT"' "l,'^"'" "^ "'•"^ wh'o w^Hn" necestanly be prepared to aawrt with Marx that the economic factor ia the ruling factor in hu^n wio^ the department of affair, with which economic h«,™ .. concenied i. regarded as a .phere of hu^ S •ty peculiarly ,elf-centred. The world to Xh the Tr»*^ ?""''•=*' «^"°»y relate.-thl SeiS SrCoZet^.'Hitli tr-'-r/' "' '^ theruleof ave.:^ecorer^;?itri:.^h';t' |.tmg poUtlcal condition, of civili«tio„ i^ «^d^" activity would seem to be more completely occupied with the pre^nt; and. therefore, to be altogertfr moi* remote from the action of the principle we have b«e„ describing. Nevertheless. aU the world.rhaZ tics, wth which we have so far been occupied is but p«l.m.nanr to the vast struggle towards which the mod! em worid moves ; a struggle in which the ascendency fl.ct of forces as has never prevailed in the worid before ii j:^h 1 1 ll Iti 3f» WUTOIM aVUISATIOM lillli 1--.„ When the obtenrer, at the preeent tine, haa ad- vanced tome distance towards the matteiy of the principle* underlying the economic development in progreM in the En(lish«peakittg world on both tides of the Atlantic it is impossible to avoid being struck with the significance of the process as a whole. In the section of that world represented in the United Sutes, we have in view the economic process in con- ditions of 'undoubtedly the highest intensity and po- tentiality it has ever reached in the world. In the section of which Englandiis the centre we catch sight, moreover, for the first time in history, of a conception round which a practical system of world-politics — in the face of difficulties, still from time to time pro- nounced by its critics to be insurmountable — is ac- tually slowly beginning to centre; namely, the ideal of a sUteless competition of all the individuals of every land, in which the competitive potentiality of all natural powers shall be at last completely enfran- chised in the worid. Despite the undoubted survival in great strength into this process, as it is now represented in both sec- tions of the English-speaking world, ent described in the last chapter. a fourth of the white population of the earth, and to LTS; ^ ''" ""'' P"' """'' ">« ^-^^ -flu! none of ?r *' «'^, ^"■'"tions. So now it is to none of these material or mechanical causes alone that we must look for the true reason of the J^l tional expansion of the United States. It is upon the causes that have produced the extraordinarj Sj^ 354 WESTERN CIVILISATION if ■A, 'it m [Hi of the economic conditions obtaining amongst the people of the United States that the attention of the observer of insight will be concentrated from the be- ginning. It is the intensity of these conditions that exercises so marked an influence on the entire life- habits of the people, that is producing a continually increasing effect upon the industrial development of our civilisation, and that must in time profoundly in- fluence the tendencies of progress throughout the whole World. Without this cause even the great natu- ral resources of the United States would not have counted. For without it the economic process in the United States would have taken at least a century longer to have reached its present advanced stage of development. It is the immeasurably deeper intensity of the economic and industrial conflict prevailing over the widest area of freedom hitherto cleared in the world which, more than any other cause, and more than all other causes together, has equipped the people of the United States with the irresistible potency they are about to exercise in the world in the eco- nomic era upon which we are entering. Confining our attention, therefore, for the time be- ing to the English-speaking section of the advanced peoples ; — how, it may be asked, have these peoples come to receive the equipment which has at the pres- ent day reached its most developed phase in the inten- sity of the economic conditions prevailing in the United States? It is an equipment, the import cf which has been, as yet, scarcely grasped by the mod- ern mind. It is necessary to look beneath the sur- face of the political and economic life of the age, and to see how deeply during the past century the spirit, X THE MODERN WORUWONFUCT 355 the example, and the methods of the system of social order which has grown up in the English-speaking world have already influenced the whole of Western avihsation to realise for how much the principles that have produced it count in the world. The full signifl. CMce of these principles can, indeed, be grasped only when their relationship is perceived to that ultimate fact of Western history we have been discussing throughout, namely, that all other systems of social order must in the end go down before those within which the future has been emancipated in the freest and most efficient conflict of forces in the present. When we regard the conditions in which the evo- lutionary process is slowly advancing towards the challenge of the ascendency of the present in the economic life of the modem world, we have in view a spectacle of the highest interest. To understand, however, the character of the forces involved it is desirable that the mind should, as far as possible, con- tmue its advance from the position reached in the last chapter. Now, if we look beneath the surface of the life of the English-speaking world at the present day. It may readily be perceived, if the examination is ear- ned far enough, how profoundly the entire character of the social process amongst the included peoples has been influenced as the great antinomy, of which the development was traced through Western history in the previous chapters, has come in its modem form to draw into its influence the entire practical affairs of the worid. The conditions of almost every form of human activity have, almost insensibly, passed under the contro' of a new ruling principle in the evolutionary process. In the first result, they may 3S6 WESTERN aVIUSATION •■' 1 IS already be perceived to have become intensified be- yond any standard that has ever prevailed in the world before. It matters not trom what side we take up the examination, the facts continue to point in the same direction, and the culminating effect on the mind is in the highest ' . ^ree impressive. If attention is directed at first to the domain of abstract thought, it may be perceived that the result attained in the conditions which prevail at the present day in tlie English-speaking world is very remark- able. By the necessary, tolerance of each other of many conflicting views ; behind all of which there exists the all-pervading influence of the principle — of necessity tacitly accepted even by individuals who reject the prejoises — that, while truth is to be considered, on the one hand, as transcending the content of any welfare comprised within the bounds of political consciousness, it is only to be conceived, on the other, as the net resultant of forces and stand- ards apparently in themselves conflicting ; there has been almost imperceptibly developed an entirely new attitude of the human mind towards every sys- tem of action, of power, of knowledge, and of opinion representing itseU for the time being as the embodi- ment of a principle claiming general assent. The first large outward expression of this attitude, as a working principle in the political life of our civilisation, is that which we have in view in the rise of the sya^em of Party Government, the im- mediate development of which in public life in England was coincident with the close of the era described in the last chapter. If the mind is carried back over tb« recent political history of the English- X THE MODERN WORLD^ONFLICT 357 ■peaking world it may be noticsd that in almost wery quarter it presents the same Iv-ature. Side by side with the increasing assertion of the nght of every community, from the hamlet to a continent, to manage its own local affairs, there has been devel- oped that phenomenon in public affairs now known as the system of government by party. No system of government has been more sweepingly condemned outside the countries where it exists. In it there survives, as indeed there still sur/ives in most of the institutions of the present day, many of the evils of the era of evolution out of which the world is moving No system of government is from time to time more scathingly criticised even in England and America. Nevertheless, no system Las ever been invented which has given such efficient results as a cause of prop^ss. Throughout the public affairs of the whole of the English-speaking peoples at the present day it IS the life-principle of all effective criticism ; the most potent fact behind every condition of good government. For 150 years it has been the soul of that orderly unceasing stress of competing principles, from out of which the rapid but unhasting political progress of the English-speaking world has proceeded. Whatever its faults, it is the first large outward result m the political life of our civilisation of the ascendency of the principle which emerged out of the long stress of the development described in the last chapter. Now if we look closely at the system of govern- ment by party, it may be perceived that what it essentially represents is the unconscious organisa- tion, on each side of a line of cleavage, of ail the SIS WESTERN OVIUSATION mi' opposing elements in any situation utilised against each other to the full extent of their powers as forces of criticism and progress. The essence of the sys- tem is that there are of necessity only two principal parties, each continually organised in opr ^tion to the other ; ' and that, as in the system of legal trial developed in the conditions of English jurispru- dence,* each side proceeds from the point of view that it is itself entirely in the right, and that its opponent is of necessity equally and entirely in the wrong. Vital, essential, and fundamental as is the system of party government in th^ circumstances mentioned, it is nevertheless almost outside the forms and recog- nition of written constitutions. A system in the conduct of public affairs which appears so entirely bewildering, and even absurd, to the observer who has not grasped its meaning, is only made possible by a condition which is always in the background, but which is never expressed in any constitutional formula. It is a condition the influence of which has come to permeate the entire atmosphere of the intellectual and ethical life of the English-speaking world, as the result of the ascendency therein of the 1 The elwacter of the putjr lyitem, u an orguiMtion of two gremt puties on^ in the government of the State, i> u reaurktble in the United States a* in England. Looking tlirongh the records, in Stan- wood's Hisltry of At Prisidiiuy, of the last ten presidential election) included in the nineteenth century, the ftct has to be noted that of the 59 candidates for the Presidenc]r, for whom votes were cast bj the members of various parties, the lo o6Scial candidates of the two great opposing parties in the United States received over 94 per cent of the tc'al votes. All the other 39 candidates of other parties received tcfether leas than 6 per cent. * Compare in this connection Note, p. 361, in relation to differences in winciples of jurispmdence in Latin countries. THE MODERN WORLD-CONFUCT 359 pnnciple which emerged into view in the develop- ment described in the last chapter. It is a condition which may be perceived to represent, in the last resort, the tacit assumption, even when the individ- ual may appear to repudiate it, that the claim of nght upon those who profess to be its adherents goes deeper than the claim of loyalty to any system of government, or of party, or of authority, repre- sentmg itself for the time being as its expression. It 18, in short, the subconscious admission of the fact that, however intense our convictions, we are not the ultimate repositories of truth, and that therefore our opponents may after all be right.> This U why the peoples who have not been beaten out in history beneath the tremendous blows of the developmental process described in the last chapter, and whose habit of mind it is, consequently, to see nght or truth absolute in a principle or institution, have on the whole failed to successfuUy develop the system of Party in government, or even to giasp its essential meaning. The vast assumption which underlies it involves, it may be perceived, a concep- tion of the nature of ultimate principles which they have never accepted. The fact that parties or their leaders should be at once uncompromisingly hostile and yet be mutually tolerant; that they should en- force their principles on the whole community at the point of the narrowest majority, and yet expect that ' The fuadamental diJference in this raped which lepuates even the .brtrmct ide. of the St.te in Ulin countriet on the condnent of Europe from the idea of the State in England, where the Umitation of aU powen and nghtt is deeply rooted in the »ubcoMciou«ie« of the community. wiU be often obvious in current affiurs at the present day to the deeper student of politics. it if; 360 WESTERN CIVILISATION CHAT. their successors on acceding to power should not attempt to reverse the law they have made; that they should be. as has sometimes been the case in the United States, divided by a principle scareely visible to outsiders.' and yet proceed to call out A the strength of their adherents on the assumption that the opposing party is in all its proposals the representative of absolute error; that they should even after the most bitterly contested struggles, accept the result as conclusive for the time being, and with that immediate subsidence of excitement which has been characteristic of the great historic party struggles m the United States ;» nty, that they shoJd in their organs of opinion even go out of their way, as has sometimes happened in England, to regret the lack of or^isation or strength in their opponents as being bad for their own side;-are all matters which appear from time to time to a large class of critics as utterly irreconcilable with standards of right conduct ts they prevail elsewhere in our civilisation. They present themselves either, at the best, as bewildering absurdities, or. at the worst, as conclusive evidence of the consUtent and organised hypocrisy of the pub- lic life of the peoples amongst whom they are found At first sight, in short, no more illogical, anarchic or impossible principle of government could be con- ceived. Yet no more elemental condition of progress has ever existed in the worid. It is the first funda- mental working principle in public life contributing to the freedom and intensity of conditions that pre- Tolft.,^ '^^" '■^■^"''"' that the o,. .,- j . T ^" «y«tena of ■). 363 WESTEKN OVIUSATIQK profoundly in bringing at jut the existing conditions of the exploitation of the world by the advanced peoples, than the application of science to the general affairs of life. But the results obtained in applied science are themselves the product i ' certain condi- tions in thought and in the cultivation rf pure science which have only recently come to pre' u .. our civili- sation. They are conditions which ; tie resulted di- rectly from the ascendency in our c/vilisation of the conception that emerged out of the conflict described in the last chapter. It is only necessary to look through the current literature of the European peoples to realise how pecul- iar and how strictly circumscribed these conditions in reality are. If we regard, in the first instance, the existing educational cont oversies of the peoples who have not passed through the development described in the last chapter it may be perceived, when all due allowance is made for explanations that may be offered, how the scope of research and inquiry has remained restricted on every hand by the standards that have continued to prevaiL Yet, on the other band, when the mind is carried in the opposite direction it is con- fronted with a fact scarcely less significant. This is the inevitableness with which a purely intellectual de- mand for freedom carries u.s back once more to a mere theory of the interests, of the individuals comprised within the limits of political consciousness. For as we see how inherent in the problem of human evolu- tion is the fact that there is not, and that there never can be, any purely intellectual sanction for the sub- mission of the individual tc a world-process in which he has absolutely no interest ; so we see that a purely I THE MODERN WORUVOQNmcr 363 inteUectual demand for freedom of thought mutt al- ways, in the last resort, be bounded by the claims and tyrannies of interesU within the limits of political con- sciousness. We return, in short, quickly and ineviu- bly under such standards to schemes Uke those of "the scientific breeding of the human race," and that class of proposals with which the Greeks were so familiar," the inner mark and mean-ng of which is simply the ascendency of the present in the evolu- tionary process. We are, in short, confronted amongst the advanced peoples with the almost startling fact, as underlying the conditions of intensity towards which these peo- pies move, that the principles of intellectual toleiance, just as the principles of religious tolerance, and— aa we shall see directly— the principles of political tol- erance, can only be held, in the last resort, as a con- viction of the religious consciousness. They must proceed, that U to say, from a sense of responsibiUty to principles transcending the claim of any system of ideas, of thought, of knowledge, of authority, or even of welfare, embodied within the limits of political con- sciousness.* To the emancipated intellect, which has completely divested itself of the bitterness engendered « Cf. Pl.to, Sep. V. 'Nothing ii tlie c*nK of deeper minudenUiidingi between the Engluh mmd ud the French mind, in the eiijting condition, of the world, than the adheaon tt time, of the French people to the principle ■hat loyalty to the State, or to it. inttitutioD^ or to parties or even to ihe welfare of individual^ diould be held to override loyalty to the deeper-lying principle, of our wcUl evolution which tranKend the lim- its of political conKiou.ne«. The diiferencc of .tandard. within our cwilittaon in thi. rcpect U already m marked, that it may often be dutingnijhed in art u eipreaed in literature. R. , mrt»n~ a Sandaid ■ J«« WESTERN CIVIUSAnON .: hi llllHi "III OUP. in the protracted itruggle maintained against tcience tljrough the eccle»ia«tical era in Weatern liiitoiy, no conclusion appears to be more clearly in>Folved in the modem evolutionary hypothesis than that, in the ab- sence of this condition, there is not to be discovered any cause inherent in the intellect itself which could prevent human activities from being again shut up in the tyrannies of interests defined within the limits of political consciousness. The influence of the condition here described on an the activities of the human mind amongst the ad- vanced peoples has been profound. It has operated towards the freeing of every capacity and equipment, and towards the gradual intensification of all the con- ditions of progress. It has given to every department of inquiry and research the right to carry its results up to that utmost limit at which they are controlled only by the results obtained in other departments of inquiry or activity with equal freedom. The results already obtained have been so great that the prestige of them has come, almost insensibly, to a£Fect all the standards of our civilisation. Nevertheless, it must not be forgotten that many of the peoples included m our civilisation, who have been influenced, have accepted the results only as Eastern races have ac- common in the IHenture of the norel In F«n » U t«oe in Kcord.nce with which lor«lt]r to the wel&re of the locid or penonil i> repteiented «• oppoied to this deeper ucial principle, while it ii nererthelen pre- •ented by the artist as the oremiUng motive with which the reader's sympathies are expected to be enlisted. Employed by Rndyard Kipling in his earlier writings (probably under the influence of his Indian envi- ronment), the effect on the general EnglUh mind, <^, in the tale rArown av«,y, a so foreign, that it quite interferes with the artistic result as intended by the writer. 1^* 1 THE MODERN WORUlCONFUCT 365 cepted Wettern dviliMtion. They have copied them without .ccepting the principle, on which th^ re't and without going through the intervening .Le "f development It i.. therefore, alway. ne?e.«^ to remember that if we have been right «, far. .TS^u.t be taken that, m the kat reaort. the mwnteiance the prmciple. to which the results in question are due depends, a. yet. almost entirely on the people, who have pused through the full .tre.. of Jhe develo,^ ment described in the preceding chapters. ,„H "J °u""'"i: P'-^''"^"* »>« position of detachment and looking through the histoor of thought and re- search in England, the United States, and Germany m the world of the principle, with which he .ee. the human mind therein being equipped. Whatever the atutude may be towards the principle, underlying the change in standard, which ha, taken place in our civiluation. there can be no doubt as to the influence of the .pint that i. behind the modern .earch after truth m uitenwfying all the condition, of progres., or of thefact that the people. among.t whom th^.pirft flr.t became dominant have received a long .tart in the modem world-procew. But M far only the general tendencies resulting from the development described in the last chapter have been considered. It is as we watch the larger proces. of emancipation which has been inherent in our civihMtion from the beginning, broadening out at last under these conditions into the full stream of modem tendencies, that we begin to realise the real nature of the forces making for the intensity of the social process amongst the advanced peoples. It U Ui ^ ••e»ocory ikouition tbi cha*t (ANSI and ISO TEST CHAUT No. 2) I.I IM |3A ■ *0 1^ 12.0 1^ i^ 1^ ^' APPLIED IM/Eg In,. ^gr- '653 Cast Main S(r«et ^^^S t''») +82 - 0300 - Phofi* ^^E (716) 2Se - S9B9 - Fox *^-ft Tiriii^iiiiiMry irt 366 WESTERN CrVIUSATION n when we get to the heart of the political revolution, which for nearly two centuries has been in progress in Western society — that revolution which has been bringing the people into the modem world-conflict on conditions of equal political rights, and which is carrying us into the midst of an era of economic transition undoubtedly preg^nant of changes more transforming than any that have been hitherto ex- perienced — that we catch a glimpse of the full reach of the causes which are producing the stress of con- ditions in that phase of the evolutionary process unfolding itself beneath our eyes in modem history. In the realm of political affairs the conception of responsibility to a principle rising superior to the claims of all systems of thought, of knowledge, of authority, or of welfare embodied within the limits of political consciousness, has proved the most ijidical principle that has ever operated in the world. It is the ultimate cause behind that organic process of change which Maine saw reversing the universal order of the past in the phenomenon of modem De- mocracy.^ It has broken, in turn, the theory of abso- lute right in the Church, in the Sovereign, in the State. It is destined to break the absolute right of Majori- ties, and even of Force. It has brought to the birth, in the long process of the centuries, the modem con- ception of the People. And only the vision of the few has caught a glimpse of the nature of the trans- formation inherent in it, as it moves slowly in our time towards the challenge of the ascendency of the present in the economic process throughout the world. ^Popular GovernmtHt, i. and iv. » THE MODERN WORLD^ONTUCT 3^7 Now it may be observed that the first purely politi- cal cause which has operated directly toSTtSe cess in Western history. U one which is rarely dis^ cu«ed m any detail, and is often not m^tnt^ n t«at«es on social or economic subjects. S is people, to iwhtical power, as secured to them by ^erl'"5T "'■ "y "^ P°"«"> franchise yeS^ ot Which underlies all existing controversies as to tte organisation of society and the prevailing d^" tnbution of wealth, dates back for its begi^„to. parliamentary government, almost in its modem form appears to cany „s back to Cromw^U tS J;^U. ""1. °°' '"' '832 that the franchise ^ 2nfl ""^ "^1°'''^ *» ^ '» ^<=1"'J« the great bulk of the people. On the continent of Enropfrte Ks^'"*'r' *^"''""»^ theestablishTntof universal suffrage, or forms of electoral franchise States Germany in 1867 and 1871. Spain iTiSoa t^t S ^r '" i"^^' '*•"« ^""f'* thi^orrimpS ant countries which have recently adopted it E^n he govern t „f ^,, ^^.^^^ ^^^ P Even the Declaration of Independence in 17^6 wL ^„ 2 aristocrauc, and it continued to be so^X Je close of the revolution in 1783, up to which J nod a property quaKfication for the exercised Pohtical power was still required in every StatI fi" A-XK.-mtj' ■ I ^ 111 I III I 368 WESTERN CIVILISATION ! ^^B '!' ' ■ s- -) «IL mm^ , -'■ 1 H^j! Throughout the greater part of our Western world, and in the midst of the greatest accumulation of every form of human energy, wealth, and resources that the world has seen, there has, therefore, taken place within the space of little more than a century, and for the most part silently beneath the surface of society, one of the greatest and most significant political transformations recorded in history. Now amongst a certain section of modem peoples one of the commonest of political assumptions is that of the right of every man to voting power iirespec- tive of position, or o^ creed, or of opinion ; and further, and more important, of the right of every man to egual voting power irrespective of the nature or the amount of his interest in the State. If we look closely at this conception, it may be perceived that it is only our familiarity with it which leads us to overlook the fact that not only is it altogether exceptional in the world, but that there is no real explanation of it to be found in any exist- ing theory of the purely political State. It is a con- ception which has been held by only a comparatively small number of people during an insignificant space in recent history. Even by no inconsiderable pro- portion of persons amongst the advanced peoples of the present day the right of every man to equal vot- ing power, irrespective either of his intelligence, or of his capacity, or of the amount of his property in the State, is but little undersli'Hjd. Nay, it is often covertly resented, and is outw--rdly accepted in prin- ciple only because the prestige of the results obtained by the advanced peoples amongst whom it has pre- vailed has created a tendency in affairs against which * THE MODERN WORLD^NFUCT 360 ?h?»rl*nJ"' ^. "'*'!" *° '^^^K'*- But down into world the conception would undoubtedly have nre. sented it,elf, a, it has actually done in Lr'L^ ^ N.et«che. and as it stUl does to the overwhelming proportion of o.r fellow^reatures in the world. m2 as one «, inherently absurd as to be beyond the bounds of reasonable discussion in ^*!! r '°°'' ^^^ °^"" ">•= •'"to'y of the process .n which the conception has risen into ascendency in politics, It presents many remarkable features Tt " whicr::^" °' '•'"^ r '''=''' ^^s"* » ««= s" t" Z) „:>, V T? '^''*'^''' '•'" *'™''''" ^"^ the social «ad pohtical bamers erected against the people by ception which, in bringing the people into the social conflict on terms of equality, has produced the en^ ~wrt:'"5*''^"""'' "- A discussed have been able to achieve in the existing world th^ anv 1 . !." *' ^''' ^^^^ «««'«. ""ore tha^ 1° ■ K •" ?""P*'°° "hich is producing those A„7 U . Tr.*" ."""""'' " "^J«ti"g its theories. And last of all. it is this conception which constitutes he cause, upon the continued ascendency of which n politics, eveiy existing political reformer including the Marfan Socialist is counting for the realisation of that larger social and economic transformation which IS perceived to lie in the future Jl 'l^ ^^^ '° ''''*' '■^^°" ""^ ""St attribute the ascendency m Western history of this conception! .11'' t»' mm A' j>'v. 370 WESTERN aVIUSATION ii entirely new and altogether exceptional in the wc rid, — a conception which tue almost universal opinion of the world down to the recent past would have re- garded as absurd, and yet a conception, to all appear- ance, fundamentally related to the central meaning of that phase of the evolutionary process in the midst of which we are living — there can be no doubt as to what the answer must be. The cause which has led to the ascendency among the advanced peoples of the conception of the right of every man to equal voting power, irrespective of birth, of creed, of intelligence, of capacity, or even of the nature or amount of his interest in the State, has beyond doubt no relation to any theory of the State bounded by the limits of political consciousness. It simply cannot be fitted into any theory of society based on the relation to each other of existing interests in the State. In the end it overleaps all such considerations. In the last analysis we perceive that it undoubtedly results from the existence in men's minds of a sense of re- sponsibility to each other which is projected beyond all the objects for which the political State is con- ceived as existing. When, in short, we reach the cause which has given men political equality irrespective of all condi- tions and qualifications, we stand once more in the presence of the principle we have been discussing throughout. In other words, strange though it may appear, the fundamental principle of political toler- ance, which is implied in this theory of equality, can, like the fundamental principle of intellectual toler- ance — and whether the individual be conscious of it or not — only be held by the world as an ultimate X THE MODERN WORLD-CONFUCT 37J conviction Of the religious consdousnew. It is. that « to say, the principle through which the evolutionary process IS accomplishing the subordination of the present to a future transcending the content of politi- cal consciousness, which constitutes the controlling cause behind all the outward phenomena of politicd equality in the modem world. When, in the light of this circumstance, we look r L ^f ? " '^" ^""'^^ development proceeding tS\^„T w *■** "* ■' '^«^° °°* '° «"""« before he mind. We may even go so far as to compress into a formula the clue to the political process in jnodern society. What we see is that it is along the line where the ethical phenomena, proceeding from the e^rtence m men's minds of thU sense of responsi- biLty to principles transcending their conception of the SUte, have come into confiict with occupyine interests, sheltering themselves behind the State/that the stress of the forward movement U developing itself in modem politics. StiU confining observation to the hUtoij- of the bnglish-speaking peoples, it may accordingly be dU- tmguished how, from the conclusion of the conflict described in the last chapter down to the present day. It is this principle operating in men's minds which has set them to struggle in grim and devoted strife a^nst that almost equally determined resistance Which eveiy occupying interest in the State has oflFered to the modem spirit. It U sometimes taken for granted that the conditions of modem progress are but the expression of tendencies that have always existed m the worid. But, as Maine insists, "it is : S73 WESTERN dVIUSATION !'i indisputable that much the greatest part of mankind has never shown a particle of desire that its civil institutions should be improved since the moment when external completeness was first given to them by their embodiment in some permanent record. " > It has only been, in short, a cause more elemental than itself that has overcome that unrelenting resist- ance to change in the vested order of the world, which Maine correctly distinguished to be the uni- versal characteristic of all human society down into the existing era of Western civilisation. This is why that, despite the transforming results accomplished by the modem spirit among the English-apeaking peoples, it is, nevertheless, at the same time true, extraordinary as the statement may seem, that, to use the words of a recent English writer, "there is in the English character scarcely anything in sympathy with the spirit o: modem Liberalism."* The native Teutonic habit of mind, underlying the English, American, and German character, represents, of ne- cessity, certain qualities — tenacity of purpose, deter- mination in the presence of opposition, love for action, and hunger for power, all tending to express them- selves through the State — which were the necessary equipment of that military type which has won in the supreme stress of Natural Selection its right of place as the only type able to hold the stage of the world in the long epoch during which the present is destined to pass under the control of the future. But, for the same cause, it is simply a matter of course that there should be in such a type of character, of its own nature, ^ AruitHt Law, c. i. • « The Fatare of Libeialtei," Macmilltm't Sfttgaiint, vol. krii. wr^^-^r*"""!^ ' THE IIODEMI WORLDXXMmjCr 373 i> v„n.- • '^ "'"' "I" "° conception of 374 WESTERN CIVIUSATION III'" '■■< I"! • I V ill ''M Hi hi \ Utopia." ' The forces behind the forward moyement in England eventually bore down all opposition before them. But they were forces proceeding from a cause far more radical than any conscious theory of interests in the State. They were the forces of which we catch sight in Morley's description of Bright and Cobden in the midst of the agitation in England as presenting a spectacle 'which had about it something of the apostolic'* — "the two men who had only become orators because they had something to say . . . the two plain men leaving their homes and their business, and going over the length and breadth of the land to convert the nation," as to a new religion.* The general observer sees the forward movement in politics carrying along with it a thousand interests and a multitude of sub-movements, the selfish objects of which its direction for the time being happens to favour. But it must never be forgotten that not in the superficial conclusions often drawn from these appearances have we the meaning of Western Liber- alism. Deep below the surface of such phenomena, the cause which is carrying development forward has been the expression of a force unparalleled in his- tory; a force which has always represented, in the last resort, a sense of responsibility in men's minds outweighing the claims of all political interests and a quality of conviction transcending the content of every political creed. We are apt, in short, to regard the existence and results of modem Liberalism as something inherent 1 x TIm MuKhcater School,'' Diit tfPtUtUal Ecnumy, toL U. • Ufi tfRidurd CtMm, toL L ix. « THE MODERN WORU)<»NFUCT 375 in the political organism at ,uch.» But we fonfet. a« a wnter already quoted remind, us of England' "the tremendous struggle, that were needed befo^ the cn..t of .lugg,.hne.. and prejudice could be broken through; the live, willingly sacrificed, the ai7eer" dragoonmg. the ostracism and social persecution sen«e could come mto existence." » No 'act has left tioTt':! rr*' T* °" '"' ^"«""> """'• in *'» rela- resort, a creed, not of ea.e and of conscious political Ut.l,tanan.,m. but of wcrifice ; the principles ofwhich -nno be confined within any theories of interests in whiiT "/"'•'■• '" '^*'y »*"°'» =""» through wh.ch he advancing political movement has passed m Enghad. the introspection of this convictioVmay be traced m its results, as by a broad pathway, through rte literature of the transition period. The deeper we get mto the cause, behind the modern prog^sive Umted State., the more clearly do we we that it is in this circumstance that we have the real cauw which Muxan concpdon of modern «ciety i. th.t which, goin, ftTl^o^ pmty of getting 1 taentific conception of lodetv -«»» ectua^ and pohti<»l cauaea which are thu. n^aking for Ae mtenaity o the procea, of progrea. amongat the advanced peoplea. and the acnitiny be carri^ now mto the midat of the condition, in which w^e W«* ern development moving alowly toward, the challenge ol the aacendency of the prcent in the economic pS ce.. m aU ita phaaes throughout the world, the inter- est of the apectade continue, to increaae If we may anticipate for a moment the diacuwion of « fea. h^ to be f uUy dealt with in the next chapter, it may be bneHy «ud that the movement in which the Man- chertw Mhool of economic, in England endeavoured to produce the condition, of free competition in the wor d wa. from the beginning involved in a cloMd cucle. It reprwented little more than the atruwle of emting economic interest, to free themwlve. from the mcumbrancc. which the feudal rule of the past had hitherto imposed on aodety. The Urger m«n. ing of the vaat .tniggle between the future and the prewnt in the economic procew had as yet acarcelv any place or meaning in it It is not. we may per- ceiv^ upon free competition itwlf, but rather upon the fi«t crude attempt, to apply it to human affair* that the mmd of the world ha. bee.i concentrated in 1., fm\ 378 WESTEKN CIVIUSATION t * if, ' ', HHto..//WSft«/i«««,,»oI.iiL 3*) WESTERN aVIUSATION I h feMor Sidgwick, "an ethical postulate that the dittri> bution of wealth in a well-ordered State should aim at realising political justice." > Yet in the era of unor- ganised and unrestricted competition which has suc- ceeded the prevalence in the world of the laisseg-fairt conceptions with which the standards of the Man- chester school of free exchange became associated, what we sde is, says Professor Sidgwick in effect, that society is struggling with the fact that the so-called free exchange of the past, even without intentional fraud or coercion, is notia fair exchange. In a world in which the interests of the present are still in the ascendant in the economic process, and in which the strongest competitive forces therefore tend in the end to become more or less absolute, there cannot really be !!uch a thing as foir exchange or free competition under existing conditions. We have, therefore, the two sides of the great antinomy in Western history once more slowly but clearly beginning to define themselves. On the one side we have, as we shall see in the next chapter, all the colossal forms and organisations through which the ascendency of the present is tending to express itself in the existing economic situation. On the other side we have the simple fact that amongst the advanced peoples it has already become "an ethical postulate that the distri- bution of wealth should aim at realising political justice." As Professor S'igwick points out, the result- ing inequality of opportunity cannot, in consequence, be justified '•;efote the common social conscience. It fails to ntisfy the current moral consdonsness, to an > "Political EcoDOBjr ud WHiia," Dui. ff PtUtical Eamtmy, vA. iil. at THE MODERN WORUWONPUCT 381 ever increasing degree, that one party should be in a position to profit not only by inevitable ignorance or distress, but by the actual disability or the enforced disadvantage of the other.» A deep-lying but grad- ually increasing dualism is, therefore, tending to de- velop itself in the existing economic condition of the world. The tremendous reach of the principle just enunci- ated, as It begins to work in modem economic devel- opment, may not be immediately perceived But that It is bound to cany us as far in the economic process as it has already carried us in the other devel- opments that have taken place in Western history will be apparent on refection. It is the influence of «ie same sense of responsibility projected outside the State that we have still in sight ; a principle which, acting through the consciousness of society, is in economics, just as in thought, in knowledge, and in politics, gradually interposing between the present and the future a principle which operates towards preventing the natural despotisms of the time from exercising their inherent tendency to close in upon us m the present. In the result we have, therefore, the gradually increasing tendency towards the inter- ference of society with the principles regulating the affairs of modem industry. Beginning with the rela- tions of capital to labour, it has resulted in the ten- dencyof society to enable the worker— although as yet in conditions in which the principles 0. * past era of development still survive in great strength on both sides of the struggle — to reach under the law a po- sition in which he is in a condition to take part on ' " PoUacJ Economy «,d Ethic^" DUt. ofPoUHcal Ecommy. roL iiL n n<\H 383 WESTERN CIVILISATION ii ! more equal tenni in the conflict of forces going on around bim.> It is resulting in the tendency of society to equip the worker ii. the competition of life more and more efficiently at the general expense. But, over and above everything else, we may perceive that this conception, as all the circumstances of the modem world-struggle are becoming deeply influ- enced by the emotion of social justice, is slowly developing, and is bound to continue to develop, in the State itself an entirely new attitude of collective responsibility towards all the principles regulating and controlling that play of forces of which modem business and industry have become the theatre. The enormous potentiality of the antithesis thus being developed in current economic history, and thus presenting, as we may perceive, but the latest phase of the antinomy of which we have traced the development through Western history, is calculated when it is clearly perceived to deeply impress the scientific imagination. To appreciate the full signifi- cance of the evolutionary principle which is at work among the advanced peoples, it is necessary to look as yet rather beyond the horizon of accepted results, and into the stress of those conditions of the street and the market-place, in which the new forces that are striving to assert themselves already impinge on the consciousness of the individual. The problem which Professor Sidgwick has defined presents practically the same features in England and the United States. But in many of its phases it has already reached a more advanced development in the latter country. »(X Hitltrf »/ TraJi Unimitm, by Sidney tad Beatrice Webb. ' THE MODERN WORUWONFUCr 383 We my already perceive, for instance, how nro- foundly and inherently antagonistic, in the long Z. rt^llL ? «P"ficance of the acceptance of the wdS^'^","'^ "'^' '^^ distribution of wealth in a Se-'to'thf'"-:^"'!"'" *" ^«-« P»"tkat he „1. f / 'P'"' °* "'^ """^"'""^ *hich, under the name of free competition, allows a private citizen to amass a fortune, equal in capiul amount o he annual revenue of a firstK:lass State, out of his com petitors or customers. The conditions themselve^ o" prSo^'tS-*'" "'=r"^^ ^ *''"~^ ouroTwhi K V *^ P"°"P''' *•* ""* «« °f evolution out of which we have moved. They have about them an inherent aspect of elemental b4arism which t^ lotoierate. The soul of the social question, asserted Professor Graham Taylor.i speakinj recen ly of^ isting conditions in the UniteTstatL wUch wiU Z Zi V v^ ."^ ~°«='e°« 'Kaiwt the present ethical duahsm in trade and competition. "T^ow who live protected lives under theVhelter of assS mcom« can Uttle imagine." said the same^u' are ex'^r T^ °l^" -creasing multitudTwho existence bo h in the ranks of capital and labour" •« guished to be. a definite and increasing tendency profoundly felt, must in the end become insuffer- a^.l^y^'^'"^'^- '-^ ''■ 3. "The Socul F»cUo. »f =^; co»p« d«, ^^ ^,.„, C«««„™„/«. by H. D. Lloyd, It r M' hi S84 WESTERN OVIUSATION able.> It is impossible, points out Professor Shailer Mathews, that the religious consciousness should not sooner or later see the inconsistency between iu teaching and prevailing forms of economic oppression and corruption, by whatever eup^emistic synonym such acts may be described.* What we must duly note on all hands, is how the personal sense of moral responsibility, transcending the demands of any political Utilitarianism of the kind imagined by Bentham and the Mills,* is begin- ning to express itself through the social consciousness in relation to the economic situation. That conscious- ness as it impinges on the modem world-conflict is evidently, under this influence, becoming profoundly moved with a sftnse of responsibility to an ideal of social justice which transcends the content of the consciousness of the State. How the sense of self- stultification so clearly indicated in Professor Sidg- wick's statement, as involved in the modem social problem, has begun to painfully haunt the incividual, there are accumulatuig signs on all hands. Whether we agree with the conclusions to which many current writers desire to carry us or not, we have in sight, as will be seen, clearly defined, the nature of the tremendous force which continues to be represented in the antinomy which is developed in Western his- tory. We see in it a cause intensely active, perma- » Ameruan Jcurnal of Sociology, toL t. 3, " The Soei«l Function of the Church." Ct" Relation of Wealth to Morali,'- UrorWs Wori,tf 0.2. • "The Church and the Social Movement," Am. /our. Sociohgy. » Of. An Inquiry conarning At Principkt of Morals, by David Hume, pp. 337-431 (Workf, vol. hr. i8a6) ; PHncifta oftforals and Ij^latim, by Jeremy Bentham, chajs. i.-is. ; UtUitaritaiiim, by Jola Stuart Mill, chap. iii. ; The Englisk VtiUtariam, by JLealie Stephen, ToL ii. chap, vii., vol. iii. chaps. iv.-vL » THE MODERN WORUM^NTUCT 385 nent. inherent, and fundamental, and unmUtakablv operating to prevent the absolutisms inherent in the economic situation from shutting down on us in the No one who has grasped the real nature of the organic movement that has come down through our civihsation will be likely to under«te the signillce of the general position which is here defining itselt fully in the next chapter, the lines along which the ZZoTZ\ " T-'*™.'>«^'"y will continue ;: ?„„ /■ 3 "^^ "' ™P°^ '" *»>« intensifica. tion of modem conditions it is necessary to have iu mind soma idea of the nature of the mUieu in the hi.- toncal process in which it has begun to operate «I .^r 1 '!" ^''^^ ''^ ^^^ "«^«™ "»« empiri- cal school of political economy developed in England have come to be illuminated by the results obtfined by the histoncal method, of German workers like Roscher, List. Hadebrand. Knies, and SchmoUer, the economic We of our civilisation has begun to present infold^ ^^Tfr^ "^ " ^^' °'«'»»''= process slowly unfolding Itself in Western history along certain clearly^efined lines of development The Sng principle of thU process is very striking; and yet it IS in a large way so simple that it may readily be grasped by the general mind when it is once pointed out. Put into a few words, it is that our economic progress represents the steps in a slowly ascending deve opment in which the winning systems are thosf wtmn which the economic process is tending to reach the highest intensity as the result of the gradual sub- ordination of the particular to the univer^. If ?M 386 WESTERN CIVILISATION i No modern worker hu done more to bring into view the steps in the process by which this result is being accomplished than Schmoller; and although thn economic process in Germany, in the conditions oncer which he discusses it, is stDl some stages behind the phase it has already reached in England and 'the United States, the importance of hie work, in enabling us the more thoroughly to grasp the full significance of the antinomy we have been endeavour- ing to describe, is scarcely lessened on that account When Schmoller takes up the economic process in Europe at the period of the break-up of feudalism, the conditions that present themselves, as the veil is drawn suide from the economic life of the world, are remarkable. We are, as it were, transported back again into the midst of the standards and priuciples of the ancient civilisations. These have now all their exact counterparts in Europe, in the economic condi- tions of the early mediaeval town. We are, it is true, no longer in the presence of the military city-State, regarding all outsiders as subjects to be subdued and exploited by military force. The unit throughout Europe has become the economic life of the town. But it is the economic life of a town oi:ganised strictly on the principles of tl : ancient State. To use the striking words in which Schmoller summarises the result of his researches, "Each separate town felt itself to be \ privileged community, gaining right after right by struggles kept up for hundreds of years, and forcing its way, by negotiation and purchase, into one political and economic position after the other. The dtiien-body looked upon itself as forming a whole, and a whole that was limited as narrowly as « THE MOOKRM WORUMXHWUCT jg^ possible, and for ever bound together. It receive! into itseM only the man who wJTble to "nWbS who satisfied definite conditions, p„,ved a cS^ «»ount of property, took an oath, and fnS .ecurity that he would stay a certain 'number 7^^' nomir IV °"'"P<'t«°<=e "* the councU ruled the eco. noniK hfe of the town, when in its prime. ^A by the most hard-hearted town selfishness and the keener town patriotism, - whether it were to crush a competmg neighbour or a competing suburb, to lay load trade, or to stimulate local industries " » A^V°"L''* this policy of the town of the Middle s^g he economic life rf the town as a proterted of the worid. It always says SchmoUer. consisted advantage, and of competitor from the outside at a duadvanuge.". In the furthe«nce of this poUcJ tte I^VSf "'"^ "^ ""P'^y*'' "^ presseTinto tt? rr ^ l^" *°'™- »«trictive taxes, differen- teJ tolls, and the coercive regulation of exporU. im- ports, and currency were continually resorted to All the resources of municipal diplomacy, of constitutional struggle between the political ordew. and. in the last resort, of violence, were employed by the towns to gain their ends.« The economic town of the Mid- die Ages throughout Europe formed, in short, says iH:hmoller. "a complete system of currency, credit, SchmoUe, (ed. W. I. iUhler^. nn. ,. a • r^T^'^HT' °"**' ;\. (ed.W.J.iUhky).pp.,,l 'VsT^^ p. la 388 WESTERN CIVILISATION trade, toUi, and fimnce, that up in itself." It wm managed as a united whole, its centre of gravity was exclusively in local interests, and the policy which it punued with all its strength was to maintain the area of its interests at war with, and strictly protected from, the competition of all the outside world* This is the real starting-point of the economic life of the civilisation of our era — a starting-point at which we may distinguish that the ruling principle is still the same as that upon which the whole social fabric of the ancient civilisations was reared. The develop- ment which begins gradually to succeed to this condi- tion is very remarkable. With a comprehensive grasp of the facts of the historical process, Schmoller traces the steps by which this exclusive life of the towns throughout Europe becomes overlaid by the economic life of ever larger and larger coro^aunities ; these, however, continuing to preserve, for the time being, the same attitude of self-sufficiency against the world ; while they had won freedom of economic movement within their own boundaries. The economic life of the town Schmoller sees expanding in this manner, first of all into that of the territory — a unit which had for its characteristic the association of town and country, similarly organised for war with other terri- tories ; then into that of the national State organised on a like principle ; then into that of the mercantile system organised by England in the eighteenth cen- tury on a similar basis, and now in process of imita- tion by modem Germany in many of its features. If we look closely at this development for a moment, > Tkt MtrauMt SytOm ami Ut OiiUrital Sipiifkmitt, by Gutar Schgdlcf (ed. W. J. AiUey), p. ii. « THB MODERN WORLD^XJOTUCT 3J5 there we certain features of great intereit in it wl ich l»ve to be noticed. In the first place, it was no auto- matic process unfolding itself without stress in history tflZ M " 'u " '"" '*'""'' - ""*• ""'- " 'he theoriT. of the Manchester school might have led us to sud- pose. res.sted mistakenly -by the interest, concerned We see distmctly, for instance, how that it was not a» might at first sight be assumed, the immediate «onom.c interest of the towns to become merged in the temtones. or of the territories in turn to become merged in the national State. So clearly was this which the fiercest conflict was maintained at all point, by the particular and present intere.t. which these represented as against the larger tendency which was overruling them.. In obedience to the caL at worj tie territorial governments, only step by step, and i^l\^:r1 •'• "°" •'''""'"» opposition, broke down the exclusive economic life of the towns.* Then followed for centuries a simUar economic struggle be. tween the territory and the State. In sho^, says twnth and eighteenth centuries, not only in Germany, but everywhere else, is summed up in the opposition of the economic pohcy of the State to that of the town the distnct, and the several estates." » of Z *"!!>' T"''*' "'*"'' "^ *•"* "'° '^'ding features of this development there can be no doubt. It repre- fnTen'^""",' '^'^ ''^'"' *^"yWng else, the growing intensity of the economic process as the barriere Which protected against outside competition were one J90 WESmtN OVILUATmM by one broken down, and the arai of economic free dom WM extended in larger and larger communitiea. Thii ia the firat principle repreaented. The aecond principle ia equally clear. The atepa which led to thia development of intenser conditiona and higher effl- ciency within the ever-growing areaa of freedam were, nevertneless, certainly not considered by the economic interesta concerned to represent their benefit. It in- volved the principle of the subordination of their prea- ent and particular interesta to the larger future which the whole procesa represented. What was the nature of the aubordinating cauae here repreaented ? Schmoller gives us no real anawer to this question.' So far aa any explanation ia at- > Th* bflw* at thk point b tli* dunettiiitic wnknot of tb* G« Atlantic to the Pacific, grow, upon the mind. He ha. before him th, 1 . '■ *° ^' ^y"""^ ^''^^- immeaaurably the mo.t important area hitherto cleared in th« world within which the conditions of such freedom are tend- .ng to prevail. Evcl -. regards the condition, of free exchange, .t 1. within this area that there has already w;'?/?^u '^^ '"«"* P'^'=*'<='^ application in the world of the principle of Free Trade. •Mimuijoa Md em.ncip»tion proceeded mort quickly ia thoK »■« dtt^l^f tr*^ '^K'^: ««nc.of the .y.t.m lie. „„, i„ „;. ooctrme of money, ot m the briwce of trade : no. in t«iff harriers M Ifci 392 WBSTERN CIVILISATION ii; (' 1 t I What has been the vast cause that, so far. must have overruled the multitude of local, of present, and of particular interests which here — and to a far greater degree than at the stage SchmoUer described — must have found their own natural aims ranged in inevitable opposition to the operation of that larger cause subordinating the particular to the universal which, in producing the prevailing intensity of condi- tions, is about to win for the United States in general such a commanding place in the future ? The answer to this question appears simple and obvious. And yet, as soon as we see its ultimate application, we have extended our view indefinitely beyond the horizon of all theories of the State and of nationality. The cause is, we see, simply the same deep-lying organic cause which has made the popula- tion of the United Ttates a single people; which de- cided at the beginning that the original States should not set up barriers against each other ; which later, and at a supreme crisis of their existence, prevented them from breaking up into two separate nationaliiies. It is the cause which has driven the same people to absorb into this unity, and to digest with a rapidity and completeness elsewhere unknown, the various fragments of the Latin civilisations with which they were origin'Uly surrounded. It is the cause which has driven them to absorb with equal rapidity, and to build up into a new social order, the millions which Europe has continued to pour upon them. But in all this we must realise that it is no mere expansion of a race or of a nationality we are watching here. It is In its innermost kernel it i> notbing but state-making " ( Thi MmanliU Systim, pp. 50, 51). » THE MODERN WORLIKONFUCT 393 stretof Th^^ °™ "'*° "'" *°'-^'' "'™»K'» the long stres. of the process we have been describing through! thl; I I ''"": "' '"'* " "'"'"^^ ■" ^1 respects to the peoples representing the same principles has cTntSt'^t^h^*'"^ ^^'^'^"°" °^ ''•^ ^-^^'^^ continent -or which, acting on others, leads them to dream of still wider ideals of unity among Enghsh" speaking peoples. But it is a cause which has no direct re ation to the conscious machinery of govern! ments. of politics, or of States. It reprLnts^S the slow convergence towards each other in a majestic pr-cess of natural development of the forces and Sc' ors w. h which the ultimate meaning of our SlS- ^on IS .dent fied and under the contfol of whi"h ^e world is destined to pass in the future towards which we continue to move. When in the light'of this process we turn now and i^cri^d TV\" ''^^*'?'°-' °^ -h-h Schmoller described the first stages," it has, we must observe ^^ome pregnant with a larger meaning. A principle visible. In the earlier phases of the progress of the thT wu^™'^'' '°""'^' '"'<^"^'*y ""d -efficiency through the extension of the areas of economic free- dom m ever larger and larger communities, we saw the process of economic development in Western his- sXT'T """"^ '^"'^ '"^hoate ideals which as Ideals of "Nationality" or of "State-making"* So far as the basis of these ideals presented itself Ti, MtrcanHU Tlu«y. . cf. tf,v/., pp. .j, 5^ j,_ 394 WESTERN CIVIUSATION consciously to the human mind in early times, it doubtless represented little more than the expression of the tribal or local egoism characteristic of a former era of evolutioa But the deeper import of the pro- cess at a later stage has now become visible. A higher consciousness than that of mere nationality has begun to express itself through it. As with the growth of knowledge the peoples who occupy the foremost place in our civilisation at the present day come to realise the tremendous signifi- cance in the world of those principles of free conflict of which thej have become the representatives in his- tory ; as they begin to realise that it is through the long stress of their history that these principles have been bom into the world ; as they come to realise in particular that in the open stress of Natural Selection they have become theexponentsof the principle through which the main stream of the evolutionary process has come do wn through Western history, and through which it descends towards ' ''e future ; — then a sense of com- munity different in kind, and also in intensity to any that has ever existed before, must come to express itself through the process which these peoples are carrying forward in the world. The development towards economic enfranchisement which SchmoUer saw pursuing its course subconsciously in history will, as it were, have attained to consciousness ; and with an immeasurably higher meaning and sterner sanction behind it than that of any of the tribal or local egoisms hitherto expressing themselves under the ideals of nationality. On the horizon of modem thought we are, in short, in sight of the fact that in the progress of the world « THE MODERN WORU) Tlu Crituiiu of Puri Rtaton, b; Immuoel Kiat, tnudated b; t. Max Mfiller, vol. ii. ; Me in ptiticulu pp. 403-7I3- • Tht Prtkgtmma Ik mny Fmhtrt Mtlaffytit, tcuaUted by J. P. H*h«8y and J. H. Bernard. *CLA Treatiu on Human Nalttri, bf David Home, otlgisal edi- tioo, edited by L. A. Selby-Bigge, t. L and iii, ; and iii. » TOWARDS THE FUTURE ^, into the more developed form it reached later l„ Herbert Spencer'. theorie.-it procee^^ f «m the ^te^nence either of the individual or oT the race.» Translated into the laneuase of n«,„i. i t^concepHon of the empirics,:' K**S' became n our time an awertion that aU the facX, andmtuitioD. of the human mind have ariwn f™™ ^e consolidated exper. .ce of antecerntTnTvid^" who have bequeathed their nervous organi«.t^„rto theex.,tmg.ndividuals.» Translated infoaprincpe of eth,c., .t became an assertion that aU ethiKL represent simply the inherited experience of ulilitJet^ ^nsUted mto the fundamental maxim of M„ri« focialism, It became the assertion that mZ^ .nst.tuti..s and belief, are ultimate!, in the Z analysis the outcome of economic conditions.* •., w""" ''°''' '° ''•°'^' '° "'^ch Kant advanced assent. For m .he conception, for instance, which reaches .t, most developed phase in Herbert S wt heones-that conception in which the du" to mdmd^ and social development alike is summ,^ up « the relations of the ascendant present to th. pa,? ' a. PrinHfUs o/P^ycMcgy, f ,,9 to e„d. R"«1I, kctore i. ^^ ^""' r>,m«racy, by Bertrwd 403 WESTERN CrvnuSATION — Kant's conclusion necessarily presented itself as being without any c rlative in the evolution of the individual mind, on the one hand, or in the evolution of the serial process as it was understood, on the other. To others, equally positive, Kant's conclu- sions, nevertheless, appeared in some manner to have plumbed the deepest depths of human consciousness. And so the controversy, advancing to no permanent conclusion through the Hegelian development, re- mained suspended in modem thought. It is almost startling to observe now the effect which is produced when we look at Kant's concep- tion in the light of t^e ruling principle of the evolu- tionary process as we have endeavoured to set it forth in the previous chapters. By one bound the mind springs, as it were, to the very centre of Kant's posi- tion. For if, indeed, all the phenomena of our West- em world are related to the ultimate fact that the controlling centre of the evolutionary process therein is being projected out of the present ; if, indeed, it is no longer the relation if the human mind to the past, but to the future of the evolutionary process that has become of the first importance in the study of the development which the race is undergoing; if, in short, we are living in Western history in the midst of a movement in which, as has been said, there runs through the whole realm of art, of ethics, of literature, of philosophy, of religion, of politics, and of economics, the deep cosmic note of a struggle in which the indi- vidual and society alike are being slowly broken to the ends of a social efficiency which can never more be included within the limits of political conscijus- ness, — then the meaning towards which Kant endeav- ''■fJm i.. 1^: » TOWARDS THE FUTURE ^, cured to lift hi. generation ha. become no more than In the clear, cold meaning of a .imple .cientific prin vealed the outline, of that land through which the human mhd ha, .truggled to advance'in'he dark tt'whT " ^'"" *'' •"'""'='='"'" ^'-" take ?„ the whole content of the position to which Kan" central figure a. he mu.t alway. remain in Western thought, actually eswyed to Jve u, a p"an in th^ SjXr'-- -'' "^ '"* ---«'" "^ A. we look backward and forward through the b.«oo. of thought, the impression received tj Je m.nd at the outset continue, to deepen. There hw emerged into view .o great and so far-reaching a master-pnnciple. It matters not in what directL we apply ,ts meaning; the result i. almost equally lum.nat.ve As we understand the nature of tS lu .onary problem that is being solved in the h.stoit wh ch divides the meaning of our era from the ult." entV'^r.' '"'" "^ "^^ '"^'' P""^' ''"d a" other S tu ■"'" '^'=^'''°P'"«"' "tands out before the mind. When we perceive the central meaning of that ■rl'.| lit j,4| WISrBRN dVIUSATION 1!' IMS Hi!. !.! en to be that it is the period in which the preeent it patting out under the control of the infinite, it it im- potiible to mittake the tcientific imicn of phatet of the procetf hitherto veiled in obtcurity. At we follow the path which the human mind hat taken through the various movementt in Western thought that have succeeded each other from the period of the Reformation onwards, we appear to have in sight a phenomenon of striking interest We seem to see, as it were, the conscious intellectual process in our civilisation slowly overtaking the meaning of the evolutionary process which, independent uf that consciousness, has been taking iu way through his- tory in advance of it.' And, as in the first efforts of the Greek mind to interpret the physical cosmos, we see how childlike, how limited, and how intensely local have been many of the ideas of the first stages. With the ascendency, for instance, in Western thought of the conception that there is nothing in the human mind but what is related to past experience, and that there is nothing in the theory of social progress but what it reUted to the interetts of the individuals com- prised within the limits of political consciousness, we see how completely, at first, the central meaning of the evolutionary drama in progress in our Western world has, of necessity, been missed. For, in the midst of a process in which the present is passing out under the control of the larger future, the direction of development at every growing point of the human mind amongst the winning peoples must have been in the line along which the present is being gradually > a. nu CriHail PkUcufky of Kant, by Edwwd Ctird, pp. 366 it Uf, ToL ii. ■ TOWARDS THI nnVRS jM dnwa Into the meuing of the future. It U not to the pert, but to the future that our position in the P««Mit hM become primarily related. It U to the principle of Projected Efficiency in the wdal precew that c-eiy other principle whatever mutt ultimately •tand m •ubordinate relationship. We see, therefore, after what futile iuues, whole movement, m phUowphy, in ethic, in religion have been ducted We «« in what a deed circle, ev^ tummg mward upon itself, the leaders have travelled fa queit. vain from the beginning. That great move- ment in Western thought which began with the Eng- lish Deists, which was developed Ou ihe continent of Europe m the eighteenth century under various form, of Rationalism, and which, in its return influence on English thought, culminated in England in the utili- tarian thec-.es of elh.cs and of the Sute, stands re- vealed to us m the new light shrunken of the meaning •ts leader, dreamed of. Almost with a single glance the mind take, m its limited relationship to the reality It endeavoured to interpret. To conceive, as that school of thought has done und-r one of its aspects, that the directir-, of progress in our Western world was to empty the concepts of the system of religious belief associated with our civUisation of that distinc- tive quality which projected their meaning beyond the limits of political consciousness;! to imagine therefore, that conduct in the last resort required no pnnciple of support in the evolutionary process, but that of self-interest well understood;' or as Hume, ■**^ or Jotqih GoMwidi, pp. i».j5. ' "^ • Cf. /V,«,>/« <,/ M«-ai, and ZjtiiMm, h, Jetemj BentlUQ, c. 406 WESTERN aVILISATION 1 ft 1 »!! !• lagr--^ 15 I' anticipating Bentham, put it, that morality demanded, not self-denial, but " just calculation " ; * to dream there- fore, as the Utilitarians dreamed at last in England, that the scheme nf progress unfolded by them revealed thefact that the influence of an enlightened self-interest, first of all upon the actions, and afterwards upon the character of mankind, is shown to be sufficient to con- struct the whole edifice of civilisation;* — is to pre- sent to us now but the progressive stages of an illusion. The nature of the deep dividing line which separates the principles of morals (covering conduct related to eiids in the evolutionary process necessarily projected beyond the limits of political consciousness) from the principles of the State (concerned with interests within the limits of political consciousness) has, we see, re- mained entirely outside the vision of the Utilitarians.' Ht. ; C/lilitariamsm, by J. S. Mill, c. ii. ; Data of EtUa, by Herbert Spencer, J$ 92-98 ; and Tht Eiiglitk Utilitarians, by Leslie Stephen, ToL i. c. vi vol. ii. p. 313, to end. 1 Inquifv coHcernitig tfu PrincipUs of Morals, by David Hume. ' Rationalism in Europe, by W. E. H, Lecky, voL iL p. 368 ; cf. Utilitarianism, by J. S. Mill, pp. 24, 25. Mill ipeaki vaguely of his principle of utility applying to the "collective interetta of mankind" ; but he does not in practice carry ua any farther than Bentham, who speaks of it as applying either to the interest of the individual or the interest of the community, and proceeds forthwith to define the interest of the community u simply " the sum of the interests of the several members who compose it." Principles of Morals and Legislation, p. 3, • Mr. J. S. Mackenzie rightly points out that " the chief claims of utilitarianism to practical value seem to rest on (o) the principle of 'the greatest happiness of the greatest number' in legislation, and («) the principle of ' Utilities ' in Economics," An Introduction to Social Philosophy, chap. iv. Within these limits, and apart from its more am- bitious theories. Utilitarianism has, of course, been an important factor in that distinctively English development already noticed at charac- terised by a tendency to the complete diAerentiMioB of the theory of the State from the science of ethics. if J TOWARDS THE FUTURE '■•tfl m 407 In the growing light we perceive of what incom plete conceptions of the principles underlying th ■ evolutionary process many of the positions taken u ■ have been the expression. The assertion, repeated in many keys in movements of the time, that the eco- nomic factor — that is the self-interest of the indi- viduals within the limits of political consciousness - IS the ruling factor in human history, has become no more than an empty formula from which the meaning has vanished in the presence of the reality that we perceive to lie beyond it. The conception which Paul Bert wished to see the ruling principle in the devel- opment of modern France, namely, that our natural mstincts — meaning thereby the instincts that are related to the past history of the race — are the real basis of conduct and morality, has become scarcely more than a formula of atavism. The correlative maxim in art — that the end of art is for its own sake, that IS, for the sake of sensations related to the past ex- per. ence of the race instead of for the sake of the mean- ing 01 the infinite process into which we are being drawn in the future — has become in turn merely a belated survival into the modern era. The meaning which the later Tolstoy, like the earlier Kant, has endeavoured to portray here also shines before us as a simple com- monplace in the light. And so the illumination continues. We see how empty of real meaning has been Herbert Spencer's attempt to explain the vast process in Western his- tory that has resulted in the gradual differentiation of aim bei ^een the Church and the State, as if it represented har y more than the survival into our time of that phase of the relations of the present to t I'll m 408 WESTERN CIVILISATION our. the past which he poitrayed in his original theory of Ancestor Worship. » We are, in truth, no longer primarily concerned in discussing the phenomena of the system of religious belief associated with our civili- sation, in relation to a fact upon which a huge fabric of trivial theory has been constructed by writers who have followed Mr. Spencer's lead in this matter; namely, the fact that there is to be distinguished in the concepts of that system of belief ideas which may be held to represent survivals from a past stage in the development of the race.' It is the relation in which these ideas stand to the future, and not to the past, which has become of overshadowing importance in the study of the evolutionary process. It is with their significance as ? iticipations, and not as survivals, that we have become concerned. They lepresent, we see now, but the first points of attachment, along the line of which human consciousness has begun to be drawn into the ever-increasing sweep of an integrat- ing process, of which the controlling meaning is not in the past but in the future. The central idea, in short, around which Mr. Spen- cer constructed his theory of human development in the Synthetic Philosophy, namely, tha the meaning of the evoluticnaty process in history lies in the progress of the struggle between the present and the past, has ' To Herbert Spencer the incretiing difference of aim between the Church and the S(»;e in our civiliution is practicalljr onljr a fcrm of the question whether the living ruler, with hij organiiation of dvil and military nbordinates (ai reprcKnted in the State), shall or shall not yield to the organisation (as represented m the religious consciousness) of those who represent dead 'lers and profess to utter their commands; ef. Eceksiastital Institutiiim, 55 63S-641. « a ne EvcluHim c/At lita of GoJ, by Giaat Men. n TOWARDS THE FUTURE ^^ been relegated to a p'ace in the background. The Tth"? ""^r" °^ !"' "'olotionaor drama in progress .n the world, namely, that it is the meaning of the strugg e between the future and the present wh ch controls all the ultimate tendencies of progress and mto which aU the phenomena of histo^ir^n' of ^Ir. " T "^g*'^''"" i" ^y of these respects of the transformation in knowledge which we see take as to the impetus it must give to a far-reaching vCTo^H '^"^% °" "''^'^^^^ '''''« - «««d ouf VIS on the effect of the illumination continues to be d.s .ngmshed. As the mind travels slowly over the outhnes of the developmental process in Western hfs! Sr '"^''.*°'»«^^°"'«d to describe, the containing significance w unmistakable. The existence of the necessity in the evolutionary process which must sooner or later subordinate the present and all its interests to the interests of a future which i, infimt" he nature of the supreme concepts associated with Li„/? • '^ "* '"^ "^"S' ^y "''•<='> the human mmd has r«en to a sense of pergonal responsibility to a pnnciple of «icrifice cosmic in its sign^cance the character of the resulting, slowly de^loping .^ot ment m our civilisation, the potentiality of which enti^ly different from any represented in'^the alS world, has m consequence been from the beginning DrJ^rt*";T"'"'"« """'"^ °' ">« «volu«o„arJ E,^r •fy°"^"'« contents of principles operati^ l^t^t" "; 'IT °' "^'"''^ conscio«ness1 the resulting gradual diwociation in Western history III If. 1 I 410 WESTERN aVIUSATION Pl of the religious consciousness from all alliance with the powers and purposes of the State, in that pro- longed struggle in which the human mind has risen to the conception of truth expressing itself as the result- ant of forces apparently in themselves conflicting; the consequent slow disintegration, still in progress, of all the absolutisms in opinion, in government, in ecbics, in religion, by which the present, operating principally through the powers of the State, or through the compulsion of accepted standards of truth regarded as absolute, had hithe.to strangled the future; the gradual opening, therefore, in the present of the con- ditions of such a free and tolerant conflict of forces as has never been in the world before, but a free conflict of which the very existence, nevertheless, depends at every point on the all-pervading influence in our civili- sation of the concepts that continue to maintain the controlling meaning of the evolutionary process disso- ciated from all the interests and compulsions of the present, and in its condition of projection beyond the limits of political consciousness ; — all form the links in a process of related sequences which profoundly and permanently impresses the intellect. We appear, in short, in Western history to have reached the stage when the intellectual process is about to overtake the meaning of the evolutionary process which has pur- sued a course hitherto in advance of it ; a stage at which all the stress and strenuousness of the modern world-conflict, instead of being considered as some- thing external to that system of belief which is asso- ciated with our civihsation, will be regarded by science as a natural phenomenon inherent in it from the begin- ninf , and coming at last actually and visibly within the sphere of its highest meaning. TOWARDS THE FUTURE 41 1 The historical process in our civihsation has reached the bnnk of consciousness. This is the pregnant fact which it is necessary to take into consideration in endeavouring to estimate the character of the impetus hkely to be behind it in the stage in which it moves towards the great struggle of the modem era; the struggle inherent in, and proceeding from the develop- ment described in the preceding chapters; namely, that m which there is ultimately involved the chal- lenge of the ascendency of the present in the economic process throughout the worid. That the result is destined to be enlarging and reconstructive beyond that proceeding from any previous period of transition m our history, no mind which has grasped the princi- ples of the situation can ultimately doubt. Now, standing at the present time in the midst of what may be called the first stage of the competitive era in Western history, it is necessary, in endeavour, ing to understand the future tendencies of our civili- sation, to first of all recall before the mind a fact of the evolutionary process which, although it has been involved from the beginning in the principle of Pro- jected Efficiency, brings to the mind even at this stage a certain feeling of surprise, when it is clearly and succinctly stated. It may be observed that in considering the recent past of the evolutionary pro- cess in the modern worid, the outward feature with which we have been principally occupied has been capable of being summed up in the single word — emancipation. The period has been one of the gen- eral enfranchisement of all the conditions and forms of human activity. It has been the era of the eman- cipation of creeds and of commerce, of industry and I 413 WESTERN CIVIUSATION of thought, of individuals, of classes, and of nationali- ties. In the literature of the forward movement in the modem world we follow the tendencies of prog- ress in a period of history through which the glorifi- cation of this principle of freedom resounds ever in our ears as a sustained and world-intoxicating paean. We can, however, never clearly understand the na- ture of the relationship of the present to the future in our civilisation, u.itil we have grasped the central fact from which the whole significance of this Western movement towards liberty in the last resort proceeds. It may be briefly put into the statement that : — The setting free ia the modem world of the activi- ties of the individual as against all the absolutisms which would have otherwise enthralled them is, in its ultimate meaning, only a process of progress towards a more advanced and complete stage of soci^ . subor- dination than has ever prevailed in the world before. It is, in short, only because there is involved in the freedom of the individual the development of those standards and forces by which the present is being subordinated to the future, that the movement to- wards liberty associated with our time attains to the Importance it assumes in the modem science of society. It is not, therefore, with the interests of the individ- ual therein, nor even with those of classes, of races, or of nationalities that we are primarily concerned. It is the meaning of the social process which is every- where in the ascendant. It is to this dominant fact that all the tendencies of the prolonged development described in the previous chapters are ultimately related. All the steps towards a free conflict of forces — towards equality of conditions, of rights, TOWARDS THE FUTURE 413 and of opportunities, and towards the Ubcrty and freedom of the individual under aU fomis,-are sim- ply but stages of progress in an increasing process of social subordination. It is upon none of these things regarded by themselves that we must fix attention in considering the future. It is upon the meaning of the evolutionary process as a whole that the mind must contmue to be concentrated. If we look back over the first period of the compeU- A.T.'^ • f**™ "**°'y' particularly in England and the United States, where its phases have reached the most advanced development, we have in sight a spectacle of extreme interest. We have before us in this penod the phenomena of an epoch in which the advocates of the principle of an uncontrwUed play of forces m the State have first risen to the position of clearly perceiving the enormous importance in the modem worid-process of the principle of free compe- tition. Nevertheless, what we see is that here, just as in the earlier phases of the evolutionary process m Western history in which the ascendency of the present was first challenged, the insight of the leaders of the time has carried them up to a fixed point, and no further. The advocates of an uncontrolled play of forces in society are. we see. everywhere, as yet, regarding as the dominant principle of the social process, nothing more than a condition of competi- tion in which the action of every individual is sup- posed to proceed from the standpoint of his own enhghtened self-interest within the limits of political consciousness. In all the early literature of the com- petitive movement in England and the United States It IS the glorification of the principle of free competi- i ,t 414 WESTERN CIVILISATION i ! I!:-' V tion within these limits which is always in evidence. The absolute potency of the uncontrolled action of the competitive forces in such circumstances to carry forward the whole social process is taken for granted. And the inherent tendency of all economic evils to cure themselves if simply left alone — the character- istic doctrine of the Manchester school of thought in England — becomes, accordingly, the central and fundamental article of belief throughout all that rigid system of social theory, in the influence of which almost the entire intellectual life of England and the United States begins to be held by the last half of the nineteenth century. When we look closely at the position which is here defined, the fundamental principle it discloses on analy- sis is very remarkable. Despite the greatly widened area of the process of freedom won for the world, as the doctrine of competition in this form carries the peoples involved in it a long step forward in the direction in which the development described by Schmoller is proceeding; despite even the gigantic results which immediately follow the increasing inten- sity of conditions ; the fact is indubitable that — just as in the first stages of all the other developments towards the emancipation of the future which have taken place in our civilisation — economic development as a whole remains still imprisoned within certain in- exorable limits. It still moves in all its details within the closed circle of the ascendant present. It is only the immensity of the stage upon which the process is being enacted which obscures for a time the nature of the goal towards which the whole movement slowly advances. In endeavouring to understand the modem n TOWARDS THE FUTURE .,, world-problem it is. therefore, of the highest impor- tonce that the intellect .hould endeavour to hold firmly from the outset the character of certain prin- ciples which ultimately govern it. „n?rp' /■" ^T P°'"'"^ °"' ^y ''" American wnter. Professor H. C. Adams, that in the conditio ,s of an unregulated competition for commercial suprem acy there is a result always inherent in the resultinR struggle which must sooner or later become visible It IS impossible, this writer points out. for the condi- tions of such a struggle to rise beyond a certain fixed level. They must always in the end adjust them- selves, not to the level of the qualities that we may consider desirable from the social or from any other point of view, but of those which contribute most directly to one end -fitness to survive in the state of unregulated competition which prevails The struggle must, as it were, always tend to reduce itself in the end to the level of this its permanent govern- mg denominator. ^ For example, to quote Professor Adams' words, buppose ten manufacturers competing with each other to supply the market with cottons. Assume that mne of them, recognising the rights of childhood, would gladly exclude from their employ all but adult labour. But the tenth man has no moral sense His business is conducted solely with a view to large sales and a broad market. As child labour is actually cheaper than adult labour, he gives it a decided pref- erence. What is the result.' Since his goods come into competition with the goods of the other manufac- turers, and since we who buy goods only ask respect- mg quality and price, the nine men, whose moral I'f' d. f 416 WBri'KltM avnjflATIOM our. -, ^ "liiiii'.iUt -.1. 1 1 -- -JUj iiittincta we commend, will be obliged, if they would maintain tbenuelves in busineu, to adopt the method* of the tenth man, whose immoral chuacter we con- demn. Thus the moral tone of biuineM is brought down to the level of the worst man who can sustain himself in it" I When we examine the fact which is here briefly stated in the light of the principle discussed in a pre- vious chapter, the remarkable feature already referred to becomes visible. What we see is that in such a state of unregulated competition the ultimate govern- ing principle by which the struggle must be regulated is of necessity that of a past era of the evolutionary drama. We are simply in the presence of the princi- ple of the ascendency of the present represented in all its strength in the social process. It is tlie ability to survive in a free and irresponsible struggle for gain, all the meaning of which is in the present, that is here the sole determining factor cf development. Only the largeness of the stage upon which the eco- nomic process is being enacted prevents us for a time from perceiving that in such a phase of the competi- tive era there is really no principle at work which differentiates us from that phase of the evolutionary process beyond which it is the inherent and charac- teristic meaning of our civilisation to carry the world. There is absolutely no cause present which can pre- vent that condition from ultimately arising which has been the peculiar and distinctive feature of all the i^M Interpretatiim cflki Secial Mnimatb of Our Timt. To per- ceirc the full reach of Mr. Aduna' principle, compare thii ttatement of it with Ricardo's well-known law of rent u Kt forth in hii Pritt- cipla tfPtlitUal Ectumy, c iL " TOWARDS THE FUTURE .,- barbarUms of the pwt; namely, that condition at Which the strongest competitive forcei in a free-fieht in the present tend to become absolute, and to extin- guish aJtogether the circumstances of free competition It can be only a matter of time. a. the process grad- ually deveops itself, and as it eliminates from the struggle all elements but those contributing to succesa therein, for the world to see that the distinctive prin- ciple for which our civilisation stand. -that principle the characteristic effect of which is to secure the con- ditions of really free competition by emancipating the evolutionary process from the tyrannies through which the present tends to strangle the future -is as yet entirely unrepresented and unexpressed in this first conception of the principles of free competition. If we look, accordingly, at the history of the move- ment proceeding from the Manchester school of thought in England -that movement with which the first intoxication of the perception of the impor- tance of the principle of free competition in our civili- sation must always remain identified — the fate which we see to be overtaking it in our time U presented in an aspect so striking, that the interest of the situation falls httle short of the dramatic. A quarter of a century after Adam Smith had published the Wealth of Nations in England, we see Ricardo already beginning to assume the absolute potency of the uncontrolled competitive forces to regu- late the entire social process. This was the time when, under the conditions of uncontrolled competi- tion, women and young children were being employed for twelve and fifteen hours a day in the factories of Great Bntain in circumstances so terrible, and with ii 4iS WECTEKN CIVILiaATION Hi i\ IPI! reiultt M •ppalling, that the memory of them itUI haunti like a nightmare the literature of the modem indnitrial revolution in England. It was the time when it waa said that half the infanta of Manchester died before reaching the age of three yean, and in which, in certain factory districts, the surviving youth- ful population waa said to be in large part physically worn out before reaching adult age. The first timorous attempt of the State to regulate such conditions of uncontrolled competition was made in England in the year i8o3. In this it ventured as yet to interfere only on hehalf of apprenticed pauper children ; attempting to make no limit as to the age below which young children should not be employed, and lin« fci'tory of the lh.0,7 of « " W«e.> Fund, Mr. Spoonci brins> <»t (Z)iVC. ./ Pol. Earn. rol. iii. p. 618) . ftct aot .Iwajr. wcognaed, nuaely, thiH J. S. MUl before ^ d^th Kkm,wl«)g«l (,F«^i^y Itm„, M.r, .8*9) hin«lf in mor i. th« poBdon he hid preriooily taken up in thi> natter. 430 WESTERN OVUJSATiaN attempts which the working class might make to gain better tenns from their employers by means of trade unions or otherwise, were eidier foredoomed to fail- ure, or, if successful, did but benefit one particular class or section of the labouring classes at the expense of all the rest."> Finally, this conception had its corollary in that notorious theory of population pro- pounded by Malthus — socially suicidal, and biologi- cally foolish as we now perceive it to be — which led J. S. Mill to actually propose to the labourers as the main remedy for low wages, that they should restrain their numbers, and endeavour to look upon every one of their class, "who had more than the number of children which the circumstances of society allowed to each, as doing him a wrong, as filling up the place which he was entitled to share."* It seems hard to believe that only a short interval of time separates us from the period when these ideas were actually authoritatively taught by leaders of opin- ion in England. Nay more, that in this recent period such ideas were implicitly associated in the minds of statesmen, philosophers, and philanthropists with the import and ugnificance of the principle of free competi- tion in our civilisation. V/e see now in the clearest light that they in reality represent nothing more or less than the projection into modem economic condi- tions of the central principle of the bar^^risms of a past epoch of the world's history. The distinctive principle for which our civilisation stands in the evo- lutionary process is entirely unrepresented therein. There could be no real free play of the competitive » Z>K* of Pol. Eccmmy, toL UL p. 636 (Spooner). « PrincipUi of Politital Economy, by John Stuart Mill, U, xlii. i-llr TOWARDS THE FUTURE 431 forces in such conditions. Under the conception that an economic evils tend to cure themselves in a state (rf uncontrolled competition, the struggle must, m the terms of Professor Adams' example, sooner or later fall to the level of its governing denominator. The strongest competitive forces must in time elimi- nate all elements from the struggle but those contrib- uting to success therein. In its relations to its own competitors capital must, by a principle inherent in the conditions from the beginning, tend by its very success to ultimately embody some colossal attitude of absolutism towards society. In the relations be- tween capital and labour, where in the struggle to secure the conditions of profit capital is able to enforce apinst labour the right to withhold the conditions of existence, free competition cannot exist. The struggle must ultimately be regulated at the level of Its governing denominator. Even if labour is com- paratively successful in the struggle through its col- lective expression m trades unionism, it must tend, m self-defence, to embody a latent principle of passive resistance to the conditions of its highest energy and productivity as tending to diminish employment. The ultimate conditions of free competition do not in reality exist. They have never existed. On neither one side nor the other is the distinctive meaning of the social process in our civilisation as yet represented. As we look forward, therefore, to the future, the meaning of the process of transition, of which we are living in but the opening phases, begins to grow upon the imagination. For we see that the development now in progress in the worid is but the beginning of a general movement, in which this early conception 433 WESTERN aVTUSATiaN 'if' rj f t HI ill iffili j f of the principles of free competition is destined in turn to be slowly broken to the overruling meaning of the social process as a whole ; — but broken only in a struggle which, gradually extending outwards from the relations of labour to capital, into the domain of industry, of business, of commerce, and of interna- tional relations, must in time consciously involve in its reach all the tendencies of the world-conflict in Western history. The entire movement represented by modem socialism is, in this respect, to be regarded as bear- ing a close analogy to that Renaissance of the middle ages which preceded the upheaval out of which was to aiise a new governing principle of the evolutionary process. All its faults and failings notwithstanding ; far as its leaders have sometimes wandered from the meaning of our era; completely as many of those leaders have missed, as did the leaders of the Italian Renaissance, the essential meaning of the great anti- nomy represented in the evolution of our Western world ; the movement, nevertheless, represents in a true sense a general revolt of the consciousness of our time against economic conditions tending towards absolutism in which the characteristic principle that our civilisation represents in the evolutionary process is as yet inoperative. In it there is expressed in e£Fect the first general effort of the masses of the world to impose on the economic conditions repre- sented by the early crude conceptions of the competi- tive era that distinctive meaning which the social process as a whole is destined, sooner or later, to acquire in our civilisation. As we look, therefore, at the fate which appears to " TOWARDS THE FinVRE ^. desDit*. >ii n.. Y^'-'' P*"=«'v:ng clearly, moreover. -se. Which are''itXr^7^^^- JJ^ advancing peoples of the world ; ^,fe th^ in time ..the advocate, of the princj^ "utTntX ^ow^y^the^elatir^^^^^ and to draw into its influence the more extensive phe«omena of our civilisation, that the deeper inteS of the situation Ukes firm hold upon the mTnd th.^? "' '^^.^''^ ""*=' "^^ °^«=r Ae history of ^r^T ?■ f '^ " °"* ''^'^ '^hich forms the lead- ng conception of the school of thoueht in Fn^l!n^ ■dentified with the principles of that pe^.^" ^i"t"n reality the idea which p,x,vided the centS princple around which all the conceptions of the MaSr school revolved. It is an idea which can .^ stat^' H 434 WESTERN CrviUSATIOiN more clearly and satisfactorily if, in word* at least, we disengage it altogether from the theories of free- trade and free exchange. In its simplest and mOst scientific form it might be put asfoUows: It was held to be the natural and ultimate tendency in the exist- ing world for the conditions in industry, commerce, and business, just as in the relations of capital to labour, to reach their highest and most efficient devel- opment in the interest of society, simply in obedience to their own natural and inherent tendencies. In the early decades of the nineteenth century, when industry and commerce T.^>re still suffering from the policy of governments avaricious on behalf of classes or of intere^^s, it was only natural that the most enlightened mmds should advance to the conclusion that all interference of the State, as in the past, was an unmixed evil. In the writings of Adam Smith, Ricardo, and the Mills, and in the speeches of Cobden, we are always in the presence of the feeling associated with this fact. It was the officers who sit at the receipt of custom to take tithe and toll for the benefit of particular classes that excited the anger of Cobden.^ It was but a step which involved a scarcely percep- tible advance further to imagine, and to assert with conviction, not only that industry and business best attained, unaided by the State, the ends desired by traders, but that they tended, as was conceived of the relations of capital to labour, to reach their highest and most efficient develupment in the interest of society, simply in obedience to their own tendencies, in that condition which allowed of the uncontrolled competition of all rival interests. ^SpuektSt p. 41. » TOWARDS THE FUTURE wtf. ^'^^""^ *•>« n"t phw unfolding itself i„ Western h«to.y. it soon becomes apparent hat aU Mai«of inl ^^'"'™^«^ P^'^P'"' «d that i^ 2^°lo^-s^-i^-s^^:p- in rl ! !!=°"°'°''= P^«:eM has continued to develoo mrecent times the tendencies inherent in itTave ^me graduaUy visible. I„ the first pLeT has become obvious that through an immen^^: ' i:^ssT^r ^""^""^ -'^ ~- "'« tTZ; ! . ^* competitors has on the whole So?o° t'^r' '""'"'' "'"^ ''''= *- -<^ -nS sauon ot the concerns c i tk;. ;. that, ,„ economy of working, and in the inS^^ effic^ncy of centralised management, large orSf t.ons under modem conditions tend a, 1 mXr o^ course to become up to a definite point the natu,^ supenors of their smaller competitors. But bJoS this there .s a further cause which, although "J the larger organisations also secure, in resect S :'• ■ B-li 'U ilH I 4^ WESTERN aVIUSATlON 1 ( ■i 1 'iH| 1 1 1 ib r their lize and resources, and altogether apart from their e£Bciency, an immense advantage over the lesser rivals, because of the peculiar inherent strength of which they become possessed simply as fighting or- ganisations tending in time to become absolute. For a time the largeness of the stage upon which the economic drama is being enacted makes it diffi- cult for the mind to hold the controlling principle of the situation. Yet as the small industry grows by the natural laws of the competitive struggle into the great industry, there begins to arrive a condition in which we see, just as in the relations of capital to labour, that the ultimate conditions of free competi- tion are not really, present Despite the great ad- vance that has been made from the past in the conditions of competition, the ultimate governing principle of economic development remains that of a past phase of the evolutionary process. We are regarding a free fight, of which the principles and controllmg meaning are still entirely in the present, ir which the forces engaged must tend to eliminate all elements but those contributing to success in a free fight, and in which the whole process must fall in time to the level of its governing principle. Sooner or later, a stage must be reached when it will become visible that the ultimate conditions are not those of a free rivalry of forces, but of approximate monopoly. It may be noticed, accordingly, as the development of the phase of the competitive process between rival organisations in industry and trade has progressed, how strikingly its ruling principles resemble those of the phase already discussed. Here also, as in the relations of capital to labour, we see the advocates of uncon- m AiiiliMi.^ A k. .<-..ff TOWARDS THE FUTURE 4*7 trolled competition emphatic at the beginning in the •Msrtion of the sufficiency of the economic proceu not only to right itself, but to serve the best interests of society in obedience to its own inherent tendencies in a state of uncontrolled competition. Here also, as in the hUtory of these relations, we see being de- veloped for a time a large body of authoritative eco- nomic doctrine defending and inculcating the prevail- ing conception of free competition. As the tendency m mdustty and commerce towards the combination and concentration of the concerns engaged develops, we see the failure of the first ambitious attempts of large combinations of capital, that have aimed in the direction of monopoly, complacently emphasUed as proof of the assertion that the difficulties in the way of reaching the stage of monopoly were to be con- sidered insurmountable. But we see the attempts themselves continuing to be made ; growing the while bolder, more far-reaching, and more successful, and gradually bringing into clear relief the inherent natural principle which they involve. The growing tendency of such organisations to cross international boundaries, and to draw together with the avowed aim of attain- ing to monopoly, and of extracting from the resulting conditions profits altogether exceeding the remunera- tion of social service or of efficiency, becomes gradu- ally, more marked. As we approach the time in which we are living, the tendency becomes visible, not only in the large cities, but in the smallest towns, for all the great avenues through which the general wants of the world are supplied to be controlled by a limited number of large organisations tending to further concentration of their growing powers and #1 i:! i I 438 WESTERN dVILISATICar II h 1 I' »e«>nrcefc In the United States in our own time we see combinations in industry and commerce at last attammg to a phase, which seems to openly chaUenge all the ideas of the adherents of the policy of uncon- trolled competition as advocated in an earUer period of the competitive era. The first large combination of capital to come wthin sight of the conditions of actual monopoly after a period of competition in which it practically destroyed all its competitors, and in which the inhe- rent tendency of the struggle always to be maintained at the level of its lowest denominator was well eiem- phfied, has been the Standard OU Trust of the United States, organised as such in 1882. The record of the long struggle in which the end of practical monopoly was attained by this organi^tion ; the account of the practices which have been charged to it, and of the methods which have been employed by it in obedience to the ruhng maxim of the modem competitive era, namely, that every such organisation is in business to m^e all the pecuniary profit it can within the rules ^its own interests and within the Umits of an nncon- trolled competitive conflict; forms one of the most stnkmg and remarkable chapters in the history of modem industry,' the real significance of which can hardly be said, as yet, to have reached the general consciousness. Within two decades of the successful organisation of this combination of capital, we have clearly in view what IS undoubtedly the most remarkable economic phenomenon of the modem world; namely, the gen- eral tendency for all the highest activities in industry * Ct fTtalU agaimt Ccmnutmeallk, by H. D. Ltoyd. ?»,'■::■.'<'■''"*« " lOWAIIS TB« wvtmi ,_ tinued with rapidity durin^tht ,!!l!. * ''''°'*' *=«^ rnarf* ,r ," *'"**'■ a««rtions of a lite nature ".ousiera nas shown, they are, in many resoert. f« standLs of irf °£'''"'''**^.f ''°^''^' "»der the StatrThtTi, T-^ " """Petition. In the United St!t- ^ ^ ^* """y arrangements by which the ar^ pubhc ut: ht.es in competition with each other so that monopoly, in the result, has become °X' ' Conqxte nriou uticlei of Mr B^i— > t\- • , ««. of tt. TV« S^^E^- ''"'^ DOMU o. the d«dop. 430 WESTERN CIVILISATION nl, normal, and obligatoiy, and nothing ia efficient against it" > > The amdiden ndac wUeh (k» dtrdopMBt look phe* la tki Uaited SutM of Amtrlca u* that docritwd ; — "Uoaofdlif co B W H iited ia oppoitlioa lo tb* wOl of dtlet or itttM k * pudy Ameiicaa fb»- BOBMOOB. The idmlaiitntion of contiaeBtal Europe oSen no euni- pl«t of It It nndti from tb< pccnlur concapdoa which obUiacd ia Um United StetM ia the fint half of thif ccatarjr coacerniag the foac- tioaa of the State, of iocal goreniment, aad of dtf adaiiaiitratioa. TbeH faacthna were redaced to a niinimnia. Material coaditioae thea peroiitted it ; igrinltare we* the raliag occapatioa, and there were iew great fntaaee. Beiidei, Aaglo-Saxoa ipirit tended to otgaiv- ite itroagljr private life, aad to defend it from all iaierrention of pablic powen, rather than to ueore the derelopment of theee latter. But the habit of treating pablic alblri ai if the^ were printe prodnced a veri- table confoion, Conceeiioni were granted to companiee in ever; eaie iriiere they conld be made. Bat, ia place of impoeing gnaraateea upon theie companiet in reding to them all or part of their monopoly, the public authoritiei exerdeed their ingennity tn pat them Is competition with one another, thinlcing that competitii.u wonld amare cheapncie here o in onUnaiy afUn. Since the pablic pot all its hope in the efficiency of competition, it we* Tcry diiagreeably tarpciied to Me that here competition did not long peniit. Ihe sitaation waa aU the more ■eriocB became the public found itielf disaxmed. Monop^ was or- ganised against it and without compensation, the means iriiieh people had imsgined wonld prerent it proved an illusion. The companies, often provided with perpetual charters, shut themselves up in their rights. The only resource which remained wss to attsck them in the name of the common law, or by means of laws against trusts, which declared nidi all combinations which aimed at monopoly. Neither of these means, however, hss been very efficacious. While in private in- dnstry a conjunction of exceptional circumstances is necessary to create monopoly, in the organisation of public services it is the nature of the businea which creates the monopoly. Instead of being excentioiial, u in ordinsiy afbdn, monopoly is here natursl, nonnal, obligatory, and nothing is efficient against it The abandonment of a public service without sufficient guarantee is here what hss produced the aimse" (Paul de Ronsiers, " Les services publics et la question des monopoles Mm £tats-UBa," Xevnt p^tiqm tt parkmetUaire, October 189S; Amtritan Jtumal t/Stcithgy, vol. iv. 5). ■:5ffeir'-.' " TOWARDS Tl« TOTUM ^j, effect, but the phenomenon of the drawing to« h« of the outstanding rivals in the competitl^ .tSt^ the struggle had continued to the end, the last Vh»« » -y case must have been the Great 'iS^. "^^ an the laws against trusts betray the fatal wLkn^l says Mr. Fon^t. that none of them Sve ^M. .trike directly at this, the mainl? tS^"^! IndustT. i.. in short, a result so closely inf^^^ TSfT^ "• *' ^»««">-»P«^«g world h«^ as Mr. Forrest pomts out. even if legislative action had ventured to attack it, "constitutioS MmL^?on3 w fer, would render the law void." i """tions, ■'^'»-'>«'*«er,thedevelopmenthasraDidlvnror«^-j eatures of the situation, at first i«Te baSnl' have come at last topresent themselves vSSfTtt geneml imagination. The combination and Lcen^ tration of capital engaged in the «une busin^S •^.^*^' ******* '*'•*"■"» Conhol of TV«*." ' I 43> wnmN avoiSATioN our. then in bttsinewet nearly allied, baa proceeded apace until the total of the wealth repreaented haa altogether exceeded anything imagined in the earlier phaaea of the competitive era. Combinations in the United Statea, in which a capital of fifty millioni of dollars waa at first considered to be an enormous sum, have been left far behind in point of magnitude. Capitals of fifty millions have grown rapidly into capitals of hundreds of millions, and even these mount towarda thousands of millions, the tendency towards aggre- gation continuing to be as pronounced as befoie. The powers, the resources, the aims of these combina- tions tend to overshadow those of the State itself. Yet what is becoming clear to the general mind is, that not only are they all exercised without any relation to the social responsibilities with which the purposes of the State are identified, but that, t nder existing conditions, it is an inherent law of their being that they should be so exercised. For Pro- fessor Adams' law of the inherent necessity of the unregulated competitive process to reduce itself to the level of its lowest ruling factor meets them at every step. It is strikingly illustrated in the well- known maxim of all such organisations, that they are in business simply to make all the money they can. That it should be otherwise is not only impracticable, it is in the end impossible. That such organisations of capital should not endeavour to extract the greatest profit out of the situation, that they should not en- deavour to obtain the best prices possible for their wares, would be felt to be incongruous even by their critics. " The spectacle of a trust of shrewd Ameri- can business men asking the benediction of its fellow- r ."-•>' ■ TOWAww THi rmvns ^jj «}^ «pon iu own phltaathropv" «„ . ~^ writer MTCMUcallv nZJ^t^^', ^ * •*<*»* A« the concentration in a tt-m s.-j . , tic rewurce. and po«„ J7„i*"''' °^"'« K**?*"- "Pital ha. contin^er. diS ti°v?^:f"''"\°* •«»rdingly been their tendencj t" 1. ' thf '^ '"' •iWe .trength in accord«,« ^th the \1 '™"^"- P<« of their «i,te„cr Be«ath th. "!r"* P"" Mtional and rven of intL».- f ^ •** ""*««=« o' •peaking of combination. TLtal^h/r ^' '" quoted might be more tL^ * . . "SK'eKate I *« 434 WESTERN CrVIUSATION who are destined to survive ia it must survive in, a struggle to make all the money they can in an irre- sponsible free fight for private profit, meets nim at every stepi In the result we have the development of a vast social phenor^enon peculiar to our time, namely, the accumulation by a comparatively small number of persons under these conditions of fortunes of colossal magnitude. No conditions which prevailed under the most rigorous absolutisms of -the ancient world allowed of such results. The inherent and elemental barbarism of conditions— even when due allowance is made for services rendered to society in the first stages in the organisation of industry— under which a private citizen is able to accumulate out of what must ultimately be the "enforced disadvantage" of the community, a fortune tending to equal in capital amount the annual revenue of the United States or Great Britain 'jegins to deeply impress the general imagination. Even where the individual, as is often, and even generaUy the case, rises at last in the disposal of such a fortune above the level of the conditions which have produced it, the result U hardly less striking. The subconscious effort to reconcile the dualism between the standards of two entirely dif- ferent epochs of the world's evolution as represented in the modern economic process is plainly in evi- dence. As the knights and barons of the early feudal ages, when brought under the influence of Christianity, devoted the wealth which they had acquired under other standards to the founding of churches and the endowment of charities, so the pos- nv- "!i » TOWARDS THE FUTURE 435 MW« Of the colossal fortune, acquired under th. r^;r °^ «•« ?^ of the coSive p«c?J in which we are living. te.,d in some measure to « deavourto restore them to the public bv «^ «! ^' ing of Ubraries. the endown,ent'^of univ^^it'^'^^^^ them.^ticnof large wori. of public phur^^ ple?w h '"•'"^ "f *^*" *«"»"»« of the princi- ple that has projected itself into the modem economic PK.c«. remains visible even in these circ"ms~ the i„H TT"" ^^^' '" ^ P«^"^«J by chS to the mdmdual. even under the most carefully r^Z^ ^Uon. i. u known. There is no""^,.^^ «P«t that the same result could ultimately be avoided m the ca«, of charity on a large Se to tS I^bhc or the State. It is^not nSj^to i^ with the statement recently made irrres«,nS aZS,"'**^.^^' of 'capitalistic taSrS.t Amencan a««lemic endowment, will be mark^f^ r«pect. m England, namely, that it is not a healthy wc«l .t«e m which enormous sums of wealtrand ™S "* ^"^^"^ *° P"*'"« P"T^. under sS ^diuons of private charity or munificence how^tr sufe of f r*". M* "^ *" ~°«^'« to whH ^d elfl . r*''*' *"" P"^*« demoralisation! and even degradation, such practices might lead if contmued on a large scale through a few ineraS„f If we go now a step farther and lift the veil ftom ttemner working of the preying phase of the ^ .F i?ir: ' '* ""'^ ** distinguished how !• -H lu 496 WESTERN ayiUSATtOM the whole process falls gradually, as by aa iaheient law of gravity, in a particular direction. As the com- petitive process in modem business has grown slowly to its fuU natural intensity, the effect has been more and more to eliminate all principles and considera- tions from the struggle but those contributing to fitness thereia But as the process is essentially a free unregulated fight, of which aU the meaning and principles are in the present, it has of necessity tended to ultimately regulate itself at the level simply of the qualities contributing to success and survival in a struggle of such a character. When, therefore^ attention is withdrawn from those superficial details of persons and causes which only maintain themselves in a more or less sheltered or artificial existence in the interstices of the business life of the time, and is concentrated on the governing realities of the commercial struggle of the modem World, we have a spectacle which is in all respects the supplement to that which we ha e just been con- sidering. No student of social conditi<»is, who looks beneath the surface of the business life of the present day in England, can doubt for a moment the existence of a deepening consciousness in the general mind of a wide interval between what may be termed the business and the private conscience of the individual in the current phase of tht economic process. It may be studied in documents like the annual reports made to Parliament undir the Companies' Winding-up Act, or the report of the special committee appointea by the London Chamber of Commerce to inquire into secret commissions in trade. It is equally notorious in the United States. The profoundly felt sense of " TOWARDS THE FUTURE ^^ moral self-stultification already «.f«^^ » great oVires a« for the 1^ "en'"*:*""/, "the o ca ore lor the most unscrupulous "* «« any way peculiar to the condition. 438 WESTERN OVIUSATION !■ ,! prevaUing in the United State*. They are at least equally well marked in Great Britain. In the Report of the Inspector-General in Companies' Liquidation, England, made in the penultimate year of the nine- teenth century, it was stated that in the preceding twelve months there were 4653 new companies regis- tered, while the number that went into liquidation was 1745.1 As to the actual sums lost, the figures complete as far as two years previously were given. They revealed what a daily journal described as "the appalling fact that in that year, on companies . pre- senting a total capital of 46J millions, the public lost no less a sum than 21 millions steriing." * That fraud and. misrepresentation must have been rampant on every hand is taken to be obvious. The journal significantly adds : "What is most menacing to the interests of the inv<*ntor is the utter lack of commer- cial morality in every department ot business con- nected with company promotion. If an individual buys a business, or a mine, or a brewery, for five thou£-md pounds, and goes to a caiatalist and asks him to buy it of him for thirty thousand pounds, and to work it as well, he is very properly treated as a lunatic. But if the same individual asks the :»i,blic to buy his bargain of him on the same terms his impudence is not only condoned, but justified by the company-promoting world on the ground that the pubUc must look after itself. . . . Then it is con- sidered a fair thing for seven or more men, themselves perfectly solvent, to embailc in a particular enterprise, involving great risk, which is floated on the credit of » Eighth Amraii Report bjrth* Bond of Trade uder we. 19 of the CompMiia' (Windiag-np) Act • Atf JIfaU Cooair, 7th Dm. 1899. I;^^^# » TOWARDS THE FUTURE } I m 439 aged by a board of directors, are but the expresron of the apphcation to business and indust^ of he pnn«ples of modem representative gov^mLn ' ^s stuc^esTh "t' ^'"^ °* '•"^ competi^e p" Ser ot I,, r^^''' P'*'='''='^^y ^°' Wmself. finds ^Tr^ I ' ^°^ ''"'■"^y superficial, and even ab^.^ such a conception reaUy is. The^^ustS^e t«en m the past, as there still continue to be. private enterpn.es owned by a corporate body of Z^ ho ders. all fairly informed ; all intelligently in Lrest^ S X'S'^or"' """^ """r" ''' ''^ -^"-SSgl au jomed. moreover, in such feelings of lovaltv to , common «„se and a collective undf rtakingTo^r begms graduaUy to realise is that such a conditiorj ^most entirely foreign to the spirit of modern 2u lative eriterpris*. The management of sucT eS S S""*' '* '^y ^^ -'•> airair^of he TuSS". " f^r'r^ '"Portance. is mostly dn! ducted entirely in the dark. Although it may L concerned with financial affairs almost on the s£ of those of the State itself, it is generally concentn^ ' PaUMaU GtuHt, fi 1 illjiiil Ilt'^l liH 440 WESTERN CmuSATIOK cbap. in a few hands and autocratic in the highest deme. Most senou, of all, there is, therefore, no info^ pubhc opinion either to criticise it or keep it in check. In such circumstances the shareholders tend to be- come a mere body of isolated units without informa- tion, whose interest must, necessarily, be larirelv speculative, and with a considerable element of the gambling spirit behind it. Readjustments, amalga- mations, or reorganisations, causing wide fluctuations fa values, encourage this attitude, and by enabling fortunes to be made in a short time by those posses^ ng mn^ knowledge of the affair, of the undertaking tend to demoralise 41 concerned. The dualism which prevaiU meets the observer at every step. Even in wses where gross mismanagement or fraud has brought affairs to the brink of ruin, the observer is often surprised to find how different is the attitude ^ those most deeply concerned to that which might that « number of partners loyally cooperating to put an enterpnse once more on its feet, as that of a bodv of Ignorant speculators anxious to come to some spe- jnous arrangement by which they may sell their hoW^ •?K ll *?',?""«=- '^* advantage to themselves - with the feehng in the background that if, in so doing they act as they would not dream of acting as pri- vate mdividuals. their conduct will be in the wonls of the journal already quoted, "not only condoned but justified by the company-promoting worid on the ground that the public most look after itselt" The process in short, everywhere tends, as in Professor Adams- sample, to be governed at the levd of its lowest and ruling denominator. " TOWARDS THE FOTHRE ^, mentioned arl btThl ou2' 1 ""^'^ '^'^ •"«« The attempt U coLuntJv L" "*^!' '" "»''"»«• to gn.pp,e ^ith ther?;gi3hS, " ttl^"/"-^ •ignificant fact is that thf Jl "" '^'^P'y that the remedies attlnfZ,^ ^'^ "P continually we seem to haSinS ,? '^ "'°P<=««-«- What process when the c„rr^.- ''!f "* ">* «»»«»ic *e competWvfem ie CT "' *"' '"' ^"^ '^ he.*,jusrasinthru^:j"statr!Hrr"*- ^" passed to control trSstf thl m *''' "'«'•"«' feilureisassociatol t^ m ''""*'° ^^^ ''"'=»» « always'Xf^t rtttl:'^^' *" "^^ take any effective. m«r ^'"^' "' '»<"' to it is ^Jr^l^^l^Z^Z/^"' '"* "^ '""'=•' «me time, aVwh«Tat; w ^'" ."°' *'"''«' « *»"» a»fundam;„2,;Seipirof^"""'''r^ '^^'^'^ and of enten^rKftela^rr;^ ''^™'''*'''°' proems through which ^ ht" H^ *^ '""P^*'- -n ;? 'ESLir^sTtf,-^ -Pr. cies in our time, in,-,, ««u'ts and tenden- of the «m;T^loIiT„t"^tt2:^L^'rr have reached a n^^Ji • •.• ^ . ^°™° '*"" that we .that thet:vX,'^^„:s?;v!h^'"-7^^'^* in our civilisation alt^S tn.n. /°?'' ^"^^^ associated with thernn »;"'"'' **" ""^n'"? in the phaslof th. """"^'P**"" «* f«e competition '^ hav^^,!^"'p~'"P'*"'^* •« through which and demand t^ro:'.Urr:.^-a '"PP-r t»edut3.oftheeco«.mist.assoth;iti^,^^ ii. ,3,11 I 443 ynsTEsn aviLiSATicm •entative of the historical school as Professor Ashley informs us, to consider that we aie probably on the verge of a state of society in which prices generally will be no longer determined by competitioa' Yet, before we endeavour to interpret the character of the future, towards which these events appear to be advancing, it is desirable to turn our attention for a moment to an examination of the remarkable posi- tion which is the correlative of them ; namely, that to which we have been carried in the world by the application of the most characteristic of all the doc- trines of the early competitive era, the doctrine of international tradie, as it has been developed by the laisstz-faire school of thought in England. Now we have seen, in following through the pre- ceding chapters the unfolding of the evolutionary process in our Western era, that its meaning must be held to consist essentially in the fact that it repre- scnta the great drama of development in which the world is passing under the control of the governing principles with which the larger interests of the future are identified. The ideal towards which the advanced peoples are being carried therein is, therefore, of necessity, that of an open, fair, and free rivaby, in which, in the interests of this future, the potentiality of all natural powers shall be completely enfranchised. And the characteristic principle, the development of which is represented in our civilisation, is inat which is emancipating the future from the tyranny of all the forces tending to become absolute in the present. We have seen that the necessary cause and condition which accompanies this development is the projec- » a. Eanamt Journal, No. 34, " Americta TrasU," by W. J. Aihley. TOWARDS THE WVTmS 44S ment .rnong the winning peoples i.. by necessity toherent m the evolutionanr process, tending mo« rts meaning beyond the content of all existing inter! t«^d. a. w the ancient civilisations, towards the ascendency therein of qualities merely necessary to success and survival in a free fight, all the principle, of which are contained within the limits of political consciousness. If the observer looks back over the hUtoiy of the movement m England, in which the first conception of free competition was extended to the principles of rrZ'fT* ^T ""''"'^ •' ""y ^ "•>»«'ved that, almost from the beginning, a vtry clearly defined attt tude or pobcy in international relations accompanied the economic theories of the Manchester i^L Throughout the latter half of the nineteenth centmy this attitude came to be described by various namei accorduig to the point of view of those who discussrf «v ! "'""*''* ^^°^^ «o»t generally known as the attitude of Non-mtervention, although, as we shall see prwently. it would in many senses be stUI more cor- rectly descnbed as the attitude of N,m.nspcnsibUity. To understand the nature of the international posi- tion to which we are now slowly advancing in the world. It IS of great importance that the mind should, at this point, clearly grasp the reUtionship of this pohcy. of non^ponsibility in international relations, to the fundamental ideas, already H~.-ribed, -^ -t- iMsuffain or Manchester school, aad "to p^^ ili'l ' /'*. o!:| hi WBTBRN cmuaATicur our, how natunlly the whole theory of Jnternttioiiid tmte with which it It usodated ha* proceeded from the fuadaaentai poution taken up by that Khool in the two pha^a of the competitive era already described. Now, if we recall the character of the movement ui u 1*? ''"''"y **"'^* economic freedom, of which Schraoller described the first stages in our civilisation, it will be found that its leading features have a strongly marked charact-r. This movement, as we have before pointed out-contrary to the impres- sion which might have been received of it from the theones of the Mwhester school -represented in the past no automatic process unfolding itself with- out stress in history, in obedience to the dictates of eaating interest On the contrary, every step in it was resisted, and resisted in perfect good faith and wtelligence, by the interests concerned. It was mo/ to the immediate interest of the town to have its economic Ufe meiged in that of the territory. It simUarly wa. *,/ to the advantage of the territory, in turn, to have its economic life meiged in that of the national State. The fiercest conflict against the P«>c^|jwas waged at all points ; and the opposition was borne down only in the presence of a larger ovemrfmg cause, which already represented, in efiFect, the subordmation of the present to the future. It was, in short, around those inchoate ideals which embodied this pnnciple of the subordination of the present to the future-ideals imperfectly described by Schmoller as those of nationality or sUte-making— that the whole process of economic development centred.* •ten;.' tbeoijr of kl«hip M , fac,„ in u,, ™hi«oii.,y p«ce« in ««irty. ■V Tftr:vr " TOWARDS THE TinvU ^j tion of the Sute toT,^ { "'' " *** ** »» '•de- ployed «dirempC^"tJrt'""H«" "'"'' «- contnujt" which it -!. . condition of "free it «. held to t no unSTr ''""" °' *"* S*-**^ fcre with the ««uk, Z! !!> ^ ^r*"""'"' '» ^t"" rival indu tne7 „ he J^ '°. '"" '"""''=' ^'^'^ competition to Wh^ T""'"" "^ ""controlled the confident. b"t ttr^/" '"''''"" '^"»« -'" •«*rtioa that the ^aI^ ^' '"""''^ ""founded to cu« tSiSv^ "'!^*•' all economic evil. wa. pUyof thef^SsTf'eSLf ''•""' *" ^« '- This was the attitude which we h.™ carried one stage further, to its Talt^nd h°T " *" plication, in that th»«r„ ^t- I . " '"«''**' »P- aUowing for all '7^^:?* wtemational trade which, through it, that of 1^ S t'^^»^ 7f -nd, greater part of the epoch iJ'S l^eSnf '"" iH I SiiJHif iliii 440 WBTXRN aVILDATION ;,! [Ifiiiii I remov«l of all bwrien to tnde and the opening up of the international world to a condition of hisuw- fair* competition in buiinet* and commerce. It waa confidentiy predicted, here alao, that in the multing conditiona of unreatrained competition in purauit of aelf-intereat, economic eviU would cure themaelvea ; and that a large part of those which afflicted the worid would finally disappear in obedience to the inherent tendendea of the uncontrolled competitive process, carried thus to its last and highest develop- ment in the process *•««• cain. r.ni»J . "^'''''^'ea competition fo.- private gam. capital m pursuit of thi. »«k!- » t. . *'""■'* professed no princinU Li u ^f ' ''"• '»'«-ef«. and to a far neater «gree than in the other DhasM h,. „ i- "^^ .^^^^'^ «iner pnases, the ruhng princ pies . f.||*l 44» ynsBTBRtt dVnJSATKW of the situatioa But slowly, as the tendency to the equalisation of conditions continues throughout the world, we see the whole process, in this case as in the others, gravitating to a level beyond which it has no inherent tendency to rise. In the two phases of the competitive era already described, tUt is to say, first of aU, in the struggle between capital in its relation to labour, and then in the struggle between industries in their relation to society, we saw that every organisation of capital was of necessity in the competition of business to make all the money it could within the limits of its own interests. So no*r we begin to see that the govern- ing principle of all international trade, whatever other purpose it may incidentally subserve, being essen- tially that of an uncontrolled struggle for private gain, one result has been from the beginning inherent in the international process in progress in the worid. The capitalist and trader who went inside all fron- tiers, and exploited all conditions of society and of human labour, did so always in the Uen of conditions from which he was in the end powerless to escape. The competition in which he was engaged with his feUows necessarily terded, just as in the example cited by Professor Adams, to eliminate in the end all principles and considerations from the struggle but those which contributed to success. And so, as in the two phases of laissez-faire competition previously described, we see the international process in trade slowly tending, throughout the world, to be regulated in aU its details at the level of the lowest qualities governing it, namely, those contributing to succesi and sur\'ival in a free fight for private gain. » TOWARDS THE FUTURE ^g «t!?°J '^' ^°'''*'°''«y «gnificance of the character wtic development represented bv thi. ri^K T^ i our em consists, as we have L„ • ^ " "* human process bUxd the level 17?K? """"« ""^ existence in the UseL't'^Jrl^hThrgheS: tt^Lrhrreei"ii^:„r', ^^^^^^t^i^x rstt°^ Si? th ^--- •'^^"'^^^^^^^^^ Of thTSing^XSivrS"«V"«^^^ ''^ the regulation^of thJ^SiS forfhe emT' '" ^women of children, and of unskSe^Lff-Tthe' lai to tne larger meaning of the social „™„- whole. In aU these facfs we .^T?t were n'L* presence of the first phenomena whkhLlkV" ttrrth" '^'S ''' ''-'"P-tfwe'w tTed ^in? ^^duairsc^ thr^hrrxs uZ'thl'" ''=''"*'"' "^"^ to' impinge aUast upon the economic process in the mode^ wo^d. As however, that current phase of the intern, •ts find development in the conditions in wWch S ,. ^! m 4!o WESTERN aVIUSAIlON CHAT. capitalist and trader have gone inside all frontiers to exploit all human conditions, while owning no respoii- sibility and no principles save those contributing to success and survival in a iree fight for private gain, the outlines of one of the most remarkable situations in history become rapidly filled in. In the first phase of the niodem competitive era in our civilisation, it was the conditions arising from the exploitation by capital, for private gain, of help'ess and unskilled labour within the State, in a struggle which the Manchester school scught to divorce from all sense of social responsibility, and which was bound, therefore, to fall to the level of its lowest governing factor, that constituted the basis upon which the whole economic structure rested. So, in the inter- national phase of laissez-faire competition, the first fact which we encounter is this same phenomenon raised to its highest expression on the world-stage. It is now the conditions arising throughout the worid, from the exploitation of the less developed peoples of the human family in the same irresponsi- ble and uncontrolled struggle for private profit, which tends to confront us as the ruling fact in the prevail- ing economic situation throughout the modem worid. If we turn, first, to the consideration of this ques- tion in connection with the growth of the British empire, we have presented to us an extraordinary record. In the histor>- of the expansion of that em- pire from the period at which the British peoples took over the responsibility for the government of the mis- managed commercial empire of the East India Com- pany, down to the last phase of its development in Africa, we see as it were the collective consciousness " TOWARDS THE FITTURE .„ of the EngUsh-speaking people .truggling, ju5t as in £^e^ Tl *"" *'"'""" *" '-••^ enti«iy^^ tmct enu of human evolution. At times in 'Si. conflict we see it giving the reins compSy to the governing tendencies of the past; and yet ilta at transient moments, overmasted by the s^ubcoSu* .nspnation of the future, we see it Jving effec Tn"", more instinctive acts to a meaning and part in the world-process completely tnxnscending the objerts of speakmg. the ascendency in the councils of the home government m England of that central prindl of the Manchester school, which dissociated the sense of responsibility from the corse of the eLomi! pi^ess throughout the world, has beenlrcTm- ^ete Vet as the exploitation of the less develop^ peoples of the world in the interests of private S has continued, a series of unforeseen resets, oftef^ first sjght confusing to an extraordinary dL^i but »^«aMyaU proceeding from the samT^^Tha;: In the first stage, the results of the irresponsible «plo.Ution of less developed peoples in SeS U of pnva e cupidity have been such that they Se the general conscience at home to such a degree, that ?anc^' . """■^{'""il'ility has. by force o7 cTrcum- over to the stage of direct political control. At a hter stage stm. as other European peopts have begun to take part in the exploiSon of t'he worid! Hi \'ii 453 WESTERN CIVILISATION and the British trader and capitalist have come into competition with those of other nationalities, in a process in which all the countries of the world tend to come into a common market to compete fo' " fall- ing margin of profit, another development has fol- lowed. The British trader in the new circumstances has found himself confronted with rivals whose meth- ods were more frankly barbarous than his own, —and yet, withal, engaged with them in a competitive pro- cess of exploitation necessarily governed in the last resort at the level of its lowest factor. The results in the long run h^ve tended, as might be expected, still more surely to outrage the general conscience at home. They have, therefore, even more directly, operated to drag the influence of the home govern- ment at the heels of trade in other lands ; and the stage of non-interference has in this case also, and still more rapidly, tended to pass over into that of political control. It has been, in short, a process in which the ex- pansion of the British empire has continued without thought ; without defined responsibility ; almost with- out consent. In it we see, as it were, the collective consciousness of the British peoples halting between the governing principles of two distinct epochs of the world's evolution ; on the one hand repudiating, with consistency and intention under the ruling standards of the Manchester school, the whole theory of empire, of erovernment, and of responsibility in relation to the eoples with whom it came into contact in the pro- cesses of trade. And yet, on the other hand, as the foremost representative in Western history of a still decpe- principle involved in our civilisation from the " TOWARDS THE FUTURE ... 453 tion itself, that .m^t S^V^^ "' ''P"'^' in histozy, which in'the J „"„ ' J^,'S "e ^"'^1' century had come tn ^ JT^ ^""^ °^ '« twentieth coutVo^'trJl'Jeter '"""^" °^ ^"^ -"'- ^''« universal procesHfexoblT'"'''" ^^'''' ^' ««« » ally to the^eTof iS:^^^^^^^^^^ principle of non-responsSv the ""^^'^ "" """"^ less striking It is „" ': j ^' ^^ ^""'''' ^'•« l^^dly knowledge.Lt „ oneTtr ' """""■■ °^ ^"""on developme;tprlc^r.l r"'""" ^"^^''^ "^ ^he capital^^'lKrdfnt^iS^rr^'^"? someness in Enp-Ian,i „f /i. " ""srate from the irk- r s^>"cui upon the economic DrocesI^cts7rut''Th"'"'*' ''" "^"""''"^ ""^^ "^ >" all ^ wnrV f 7u . * ""^y' '"''^«'^' *^ n° other body of work-folk m the world who could have nerforml^ the task here described with the same el^^^hl ' "ImpreaioM of Japan." r*, Ccntuo', vol. bd, 5. ^ f' 45« WESTERN CIVILISATION same way. But as the mind gradually takes in all that this typical scene really implies ; as there is passed before it the history of that long struggle, described in the preceding chapters, with -vhich the meaning of our civilisation is identified ; as there is recalled before it the character of the ev 'ionaiy process in which the emancipating prir.r! j have been born into the world which have gra. i ally rawed the position of woman above the animal conditions here implied ; as there is presented to the imagina- tion even the last phases, still with us in England and America, of that tremendous struggle in which the standards of existence for labour have been lifted with such prolonged, determined, and devoted effort to even the comparatively low level they have so far attained; there grows upon it an overmastering- sense of the essential shallowness and immaturity in relation to the deeper life-processes of our civilisation of that entire view of the Manchester school, which sought to divorce all sense of responsibility from the results reached in national and 'ntemational trade and production in obedience to their own inherent ten- dencies. We begin, in short, to have some sense of the real nature of the problem which overshadows the consciousness of Western Democracy, as it sees the international process in trade and industry tending throughout the worid to be forced to the level of its lowest and most animal conditions in human labour, simply in obedience to that law of universal equalisa- tion of economic conditions by capital, in the irre- sponsible scramble for private gaiu divorced from all sense of responsibility which the Manchester school consistently contemplated. TOWARDS THB TOTURE 4S7 It must not be suppoMd that fh;. „ tific forecast of the ultimate phase of the Zl^! wo" Wa the Lrn'T """• '''^•'"«'«"'' ^•'^ Prevailin^tirnf i^'L^rthtTerH^' '""^ and ^ ,,ed to i„ten„a,^,e :£rS^S«' that the future of the world belong d tol'^;;^ people,, to the Christian faith. J to ouJ wfsS ^tfoHonalLift and CkaracUr. cL-iii. # 4I» ynsmat cnauaAiioM id dvilifation, bad been little more tban a pauiiw delMion.' *^^ Detpite tbe profound nwterialum of such a predic- tion ; despite the lurroundings of moral and intellec- tual aqualor toward* which it contemplated the world ai moving; despite even tbe inherent absurdity which, in tbe face of tbe obvious meaning of the social evolutionary process in tbe past, actually saw the lower forms of human society extinguishing the higher, by reason of their capacity to wage an eco- nomic struggle on more purely animal conditions, tbe deep and lasting impression which the prediction produced on a hrge circle of well-informed minds, particularly in England, went to show how accu- rately it was recognUed as being, in reality, no more than tbe legitimate application of those theories of the Manchester school which had been in the ascen- dant in Great Britain for tbe greater part of the nineteenth century. From time to time, particularly as we approach the period in which we are living, deep, volcanic impulses of human nature have disturbed the complacent the- ories of non-responsibility that have made a prediction of thU nature possible. The refusal of labour in the United States and Australia to admit the Criiiese as citizens, who would by their competition reduce the standards of wages and of Uving far below those to which they have been raised with such eflfort in our civilisation, has been an incident in which determined expression has been found for a far-reaching instinct, with which govemmente, otherwise under the influence of the ascendant conceptions of laissee-faire competi- ' NatUHttl Uft and Ckaratttr, c L TOWARDS THB FUTDU 4S9 tloi,. have had to count It ha. been a fact, which, though for the moment producing little outward effect on prevailing theoriea, has operated powerfully, as other features of the underlying situation have continued to define themselves, to bring home to more thought- ful mmds how far indeed, here as everywhere else, the problems with which laiss„.fair» competition now tends to confront us throughout the world have outgrown in character the earlier conceptions of the competitive era in England. In China, the twentieth century opened upon a spectacle in which we see the principle here de- scribed carried, as it were, to its last expression m the world-process. Under the inspiration of the old pohcy of non-responsibility, practically two ideals were presented to the English-speaking worid, as the capitalistic exploitation of the Chinese peoples began to make progress in our time. The first was that which we saw in the ascendant in the mmds of the English people during the greater part of the nineteenth century. It was that under which, all responsibility for results in China being repudiated it was maintained that the trader or capitalist should be allowed to follow his purposes in the competitive process of trade under the ruling principle of non- interference. As, however. aU Western civilisation had gradually become enveloped in the influences and methods of the commercial process as it had spread outwards from England and the United States, and as the traders and capitalists of other nations had now become equally keen in the competi- tive struggle for private gain, this idea, in China as elsewhere, became in a few decades impossible of ««CTOCOW RISOUfTION TBT CHAIT (A^4Sr and ISO TEST CHART No. 2) /1PPLIED IIVHGE Inc IBSJ Cott Main Strmt WochMttf, N««r York 14609 UW (716) 482 - 0300 - PhoM (716) 2B8-5989-Fm< 46o WESTERN CmUSATION 1 . m^ CHAP. realisation. The process, therefore, under our eyes passed rapidly to its next stage, in which all efforts became concentrated on the second objective of the school of lausez-faire competition, namely, that of keeping ;he door of trade equally open to comers of al nationalities, while still repudiating all responsi- bUity for the tendencies and results of the competi- tive process. In the result we see that process once more continuing to fall, inevitably, and now with extreme rapidity, to the level of its ruling factor. With the instinctive, and at times explosive resistance of the Chmese to all that the conditions must imply, there has tended of necessity to be produced a kind of international control by all the Powers concerned, including Japan. In this ring of control we have represented the standards of human society in almost eveiy stage of development from those of Japan to those of England and the United States. In such conditions the principles we have seen bom into the world as the result of the long development described intheprecedingchapters-theprinciplesofwhichthe English-speaking peoples have in other circumstances considered themselves the most advanced representa- tives-tend to be reduced to a common denominator with those of powers and peoples separated from them by entire epochs of the world's development And m the resulting circumstances, the competitive exploitation of Chinese resources proceeds in an en- vironment of international intrigue, of social squalor, and of moral outrage and degradation almost without equal in history. This is the phase of the situation which IS still with us. And so the principle of laissez-faire and non- TOWARDS THE FUTURE 461 graduaJly from the relations of capital to labour have been regarding are the features of a sinde development. They are all related to the fact of hr^T. J ^ ^'* *" expressions, moreover, of the t™ J'ti '"' !'™«^^'' "»« development of wLich we raced through Western history in the previous char^ ters. ha. projected itself at last into that procet under ^1 Us aspects throughout the world Und" almost every condition of the economic life of the s^enJrerir'i *'' '°"" '^^ *^'-"- wwS. rept sent merely the present are now in turn become en ^^ed in conflict with the principle? r^set-'g the future, as the development of which our c'vS S^stem'tt"' "-?!.'""" '° """"'^ -fold iuSTn ^stem history. This is the nature of the situation that .s outlined on the stage of our civilisat on throughout the world. Into the meaning cTthe cosmic drama which underlies it all the actfvitYes of the advances peoples are destined to be dmwn sie "Job- ''°^'" ''° "' ^"""^ *° -'- 'h-e earSZ ''f^.''°"°'"''= development, as the earlier phas of the problem have been alreadv solved m the developments described in the prS mg chapter,, to whom the leadership of the world S^nlt"^-'"^^""^"-^^'-^^^^"- It may be observed that the idea still continues to i m 462 WESTERN dVIUSATICHI prevail amongst intelligent minds that the principle underlying the spectacle of laissex-fairt competition, that we have here, under so many phases, attempted to describe — that is to say, the principle which has dissociated all sense of responsibility from the com- petitive process in industry, in trade, in commerce, and in the international exploiUition of the resources of the world — is actually the same principle that has been behind the development in Wcjtem history described in the preceding chapters as projecting the controlling sense of responsibility out of the present The opinion, it may be noticed, survives in many minds that the prevailing conditions of competition in our civilisation actually represent the still advanc- ing front of this development in history. All due allowance being made for the advance which the principle of laissez-faire competition involved when compared with the frank feudalism of the State which preceded it, it is, of course, impossible to imagine any conception more completely inaccurate than that here described. It represents what, in many respects, is almost the exact opposite of the truth. For the evolutionary significance of the development which is projecting the sense of human responsibility out of the present, and which is dissociating the controlling meaning of the historical process from all the inter- ests and compulsions within the limits of political consciousness, cannot be mistaken. It consists in the fact that it is enabling the competitive process to be raised to its highest condition of e£Bciency by the emancipation of the future from the tyranny of all forces tending to become absolute within the hori- zon of the present. But in the economic process, as I iw-^iik'*^'' ^ ' ft J? ■ TOWARDS THE FUTURE 463 we have b^n J f '"'' °* ^«x«/«>. competition W - " considering we are everywhere, in the tne level of the qualities necessary to success and .umva in a struggle of such a character /^l the ^1^ ; h p«trTh°v*!' ''""^"' ''°^"' 9rt,.r;.!7^^- • f^^*^"'- The distinctive and char- actens c pnnciple of the developmental process ta the civilisation of o.u- era is as yet unrepresen':^ When, however, we turn to that other great body of advanced opinion which has left the theories of the Manchester school behind, that body of opinion that IS to say. which expresses itself in 4ious foms throughout our civilisation under the phenomena™! the socudist movement, we have a sp^tacle almost strength of conviction which has supported this charactensfc mstinct which is common to all the movements of thought which socialism has product e^Zr *^y "'^y •»*- °>«t-k- the character oahe rrnn .-7 ^"^^ '" ^*=^'*™ civilisation, may be readdy distinguished by any observer of close insight theT /*'Tf"y '" *"*' *='«^ recognition that the principle underlying all the forms ^i laissez-fair, competition is, in the last resort, nothing more or lesT than what we have here found it to be; namdy a surviving principle of barbariam, nece.sa.iy tendf^fc k 464 WESTERN CrVIUSATION our. - II under aU its phases, towards the conditions of absolu- tism. In the last analysis it does not represent, and it can never represent, the characteristic social prin- ciple with which the meaning of our civilisation has been from the beginning identified in the evolution- ary process. Here, however, it may be observed, a curious result has followed. The main body of thought which socialism has hitherto produced has been principally the product of the eariier stage of the struggle beween capital and labour in those con- ditions of laissez-faire competition that have been already described. It has, therefore, happened that m the socialistic conception of society which has so far obtained most adherents, namely, that which is associated with th« P^Pl^ representing the highest possibilities of militarism in the world _ the peoples, that is to say. able to hold the pres'ent for the future agamst aU comers.-that the^enna. nent conditions could ever arise in which thVcon- tromng centre of the evolutionary process could begin to be projected out of the present. But it is. it may be perceived, exactly the same pnnciple which has been behind the whole process of development m our civilisation as described in the preceding chapters. It was only the conversion to Z. m1? f °^ "'**'• '" *■»* "P'^*^^ ''hich closed the Middle Ages, of an element of force in our civiU- sation strong enough to hold for the future the stage thU ^V^t. \° "•'''='' ''*^''* '^"^ *«« to devell tha enabled the modem epoch to be bom in our cmlisatioa It was only by the later conversion, amongst the advanced peoples, of the State itself-! m if iJ 48i WESTERN CIVILISATION our. with the machinery of ita irresistible power in the background— to a principle of tolerance resting ulti- mately on a sense of responsibility to principles pro- jected beyond the content of all interests within the bounds of political consciousness, that it became pof •ible for the present to be held for the future in modem polit al development. It has been the prin- ciple of tolerance so held that has made possible the phenomenon of party government among the English- ■peaking peoples ; that has constituted the ultimate fact behind that conception of political equality from which the fMTvard movement in the modem State has proceeded; nay, which has made possible the very conditions of free thought itself by preventing the absolutism naturally inh-ent iu every theory of inter- tots bounded by the Ui :s of political consciousness from again closing down upon us in the present. The principle identified at every point with the develop- ment of the winning peoples in our civilisation has been the same as that which made it possible to develop our civilisation itself only from the leading mUitery stock of the worid. It has been the fact of the all-powerful State converted to a principle of tol- erance projected beyond the limits of its own political consciousness, and, therefore, becoming rigid, irre- sistible, and inexorable when this principle of tol- erance is threatened, which has given us the modem world and all the conditions of modem progress. And even such conditions of freedom in the modem sense as prevail amongst peoples who have not ac- cepted this principle are scarcely more tl an its indi- rect results, ultimately maintained in t^j worid only by the example and overwhelming prestige of the '*il""" TOWARDS THE FUTURE 469 Ltfon w ** '5* inception of iaiss»./ai,* com- petition being confronted with that body of thou^hf which „ rapidly passing to the challenge of Si ^cendency of the pre«,„t i„ the e Jo J prUj dear and striking conclusion. The principle of W«/w.^ co^npetition, as ve have jL seen it tte worn"' '"'*"' *'^'=""« "' '«' «P«S n rtr^nt 'thT'' !f """' '^ "^y Pretence'be said tl represent that condition of the social process with which the efficiency of the future is iden' ^S condition in which all natural powers are to Se ef ^nchised in the world in a regu^ed p'r^^e^s ^f^ a^'iTthiT*"'^'^- ^' •■''P^''"^*'' " "« have t^rfo^.« -"""^ P"'**» "* *« ascendency of the forces expressing themselves through the present «d tiding under aU conditions towaris absolution «8ome form; the principle, that is to «iy, of that CvnvZ: ^''-r^''" '^-'°P"'«-t which it is the destiny of onr ciwhsation to supersede. There is, therefore, in the economic process also but one condition in .hich the present T u1t° mately pass under the control of the future All the £ st^T'^'r'^""' '"''•^^ '""■'' taken plate re but steps leading up to the establishment of that a sense of responsibility transcending the claims of ^present interests of the only powder abi:Tthl economic proce*, to hold the stage in the present M ^ao WESTERN CIVIUSATION III th*t the new order of iociety can be bom into the world. There is only one conceivable condition iu which thi* result can be accompliihed. The con- ■cioutneii of society, exprewing itieif through the State, but here also in obedience to a sense of re- sponsibility rising superior to all the interests within the limits of the State, must, in the economic pro- cess, hold the stage free and open in the present during the epoch in which it has become the destiny of the present to pass under the control of the future. As we reflect on the principle which here gradu- ally becomes visible, its full meaning grows, in time, upon the mind. We begin to see in perspective the real outlines of that development with the tendencies of which the advanced peoples have ah'eady been struggling for the greater part of a century. Sooner or later, we see, the general will must, by its own determinative act, and in obedience to that sense of responsibility inherent in our civilisation, and trans- cending the bounds of all existing interests and the limits of political consciousness itself, project the meaning of the economic process beyond the content of that mere free fight in the present to which we see it now confined. It is, in reality, we begin to perceive, nothing more than the dim consciousness of this fact that has consistently inspired that move- ment of opinion which, under so many forms, has already come into conflict with the phenomena of laisstt-fmn competition in the economic process throi^rhout the world. This has been, it may be dis- tinguished, the ultimate meaning of that instinct, however wrongly directed it may have been in its TOWAKDS THE FUTUmE 471 manifMUtiont in the pa.t, which hw coniirtently untlulled labour can ever be enfranchi.ed in iti rela- rtruggl ng toward, exprewion in that continual a^ peal of labour to society to recognise its right to a mmimum wage, to uphold it. standards of life, and generally, to enforce by law a das. of cl^m^ representing m the last analysis nothing more than the first bare condition, of free competition in it. relafon. to capital on the one hand and to it. own kind on the other. It is the ume instinct -that nothing els: than the general will consciously acting under a wnw of responsibihty to principles transcending aU the in thi i^t'"?"^, competitors, and acting, therefore. In the interest, of the proce.. of o-,r wcial evolution a. a whole, can ever hold the .tag pen and free in the condition, in which we .ee odem indu.trial competition tending univerwlly toward, monopoly control -which i. in reality behind all the demand., however crudely formulated a. yet, that tend to bring u. into view of an era in which increment, in the profit owner.hip of the instruments and mate- rial, of production which are unearned in terms of wcuU utihty shall form part of a common inheritance !k n .!! v'^*'*''" ^"^ "'"""''' °* ">« individual •haU be applied m conditions tending towards equal economic opportunity. I„ no other condition, as we begin to we, can that characteristic significance of really free competition, towards which it has beeu from the beginning the destiny of our civilisation to cany the world, be realised. In no other condition. 47^ WESTERN CIVILISATION 1 can the controlling meaning of the economic process in relation to the problems of modem industry ever be projected beyond the content of a struggle, bounded always by the horizon of existing interests ; wherein we now see the strongest competitors, sim- ply in virtue of the qualities contributing to survival in a free fight in the present, tending to become absolute in conditions of power as irresponsible and of monopoly as colossal as any which characterised the civilisations of the ancient world. As in the light of the same principle the mind con- tinues to look along the horizon where the present merges into the future, we catch sight of the meaning of that still deeper instinct with which it ma • be distinguished that aU the peoples representing the advancing life of our civilisation are struggling at the present time — that instinct, that is to say, which ScbmoUer and the historical school in economics imperfectly endeavoured to express under the con- ception of nationality. The mistaken conception of the Manchester school, that the progress won for the race could be maintained, and that the ideal of an open, fair, and free rivalry under which all human opacities should have the right of universal oppor- tunity could ever be reaUsed in the conditions of a process of competitive trade, r^^ulated of necessity at the level of the qualities governing an international scramble for private gain, already belongs to the immature imaginings of a period beyond which the world has moved. What we see is that in this case also the principle we have traced throughout as repre- sented in the development of our civilisation must eventually come into operation. » TOWARDS THE FUTURE 473 present By an irresistitU unU opZin^ inlZZZ a sense of responsibility to a principle of toleraZTtJn '^^.f!-^''-clain.ofaUe.LnJntJest^^2Z This ,s the meaning which ths peoples that ^ Of our civUisation are now struggling to exDrw. i„ the consciousness of a collective life in tS^e^ ethical ideals which are tending amongs these ISS to take the place of those represented in the "Se^ the concepts of nationality. Itisundo„bt.dlyamolt the peoples who have already carried farthest^he ch!^ actenshc principles of the development we haveM lowed through Western history siLle bSifne of our era, that the cause heJdescribed is dSed m the near future to play the greatest part in tS into trr^- ^^' ""^^ ^'^ »•-<= lSl« i^ight mto he tendencies of current events who does not perceive that amongst the advanced peopleH th^ present day thU movement of the S onmJi? principle, of our civilisation towariscoSSI^ already a fact in Western history, the signEnce rf w^ch overshadows that of any oTher tenfen^of thi « was ind It J- Ik*^ '"^'°'y °* ^"''^'^ Staies it is. tei^h thf J" ** r"*""" ''^P'"'' 'he real cause ^neath the surface which has built up the croun •cious organic unity, which has enabled that unity N 474 WESTERN aVIUSATION ill: to absorb, with a rapidity and completeness of which only the bi^^hest organic life could be capable, the millions which surrounded them and which have been poured upon them. It is the cause which has made the United States the largest free-trading area in the world; and which in this, and a multitude of other respects, constitutes the ultimate fact behind those conditions of intensity, and that outlook on the world which is so significant for the future of this section of the English-speaking peoples. Similarly in England at the present day, the observer can have gone little beneath the surface-meaning of current events, who does not realise in the same cause one of the pro- foundest nascent forces in existing politics. It is the cause behind that instinct which already associates with the collective life of that loosely federated com- monwealth of peoples, incorrectly known as the Brit- ish empire, a sense of responsibility, a meaning and a destiny in the future — in upholding throughout the world the conditions of development, and the stand- ards of life won with such eflfort in our civilisation — the significance of which entirely transcends the con- tent of the utilitarian Liberalism which prevailed in England in the middle decades of the nineteenth century. And in the English-speaking world as a whole it is already a cause from which proceeds an impetus of which no mind has as yet either measured the reach or foreseen the destiny. It is an impetus, moreover, which, proceeding from a cause that has no relation either to the conditions or aims of current politics, but which, going deeper than all outward forms of politics and of governments, has its seat in the growing sense of organic unity amongst this TOWARDS THE FUTURE 475 group of peoples as the conscious representatives in Ustoiy of the principles through which the main stream of the evolutionary process in Western history has come down from the past in our civilisation, and is descendmg towards the future in the world When the adjustments in respect of natural and legitimate aspirations that have not been satisfied in Tl^ ?Tu '^'" """'''' *'•'"■•= ^- 'n ^hort. be no doubt as to the nature of the future towards which our civilisation is drawing in this respect. The day of such concepts of nationality, as express merely the tnbal or ocal egoisms of a people, would appear to be over What we must expect to see in the future towards which we are moving, is the life of the world, under the lead of our civilisation, converging gmdu! ally towards a stage at which the rivalry ^U be between a few great, clearly defined systems of social order ; these systems being, in the last resort, nothing more or less than diflferent outward expressions, in terms of the social and economic life of the included P^ples. of that principle of the subordination of the present to the future with which the meaning of our civilisation has been from the beginning identified in the evolutionaiy process. And in the eventual world- nvalry between these systems the determining fac- tor of success will undoubtedly be the degree of efficiency with which this principl,; has obtained expression in the life-processes of the included peoples. For the peoples who represent the advancing front of the development we have thus traced through J>fcstem history, and amongst whom the principle of competition has already produced its most important 476 WESTERN dVHJSATIOTI results, there has been reached a period in which it has become the clear duty of the party representing the cause of progress to place before it the one cen- tral principle around which aU the details of the main conflict in the lo'il, political, social, and international We cf our civilisation must in future be waged. This is, that in the relations of the individual to society the conditions which express the ascendency of the pres- ent in the economic process belong to an epoch of development beyond the meaning of which our civUi- sation must be considered to have definitely moved. The fact through which the ascendency of the present continues to express itself in the economic process is everywhere the same. We have it in view under the phenomenon of the legalised enforcement, whether by individuals, or classes, or corporations, or sometimes even by whole peoples, of rights which do not correspond to an equivalent in social Utility. This is the phenomenon which John Stuart Mill and the English Utilitarians had in view in their early attadc on the institution of unearned increments. This is the phenomenon which, in the last analysis, we see Henry George endeavouring to combat in his denouncement of the monopoly ownership of natural utilities. This is the phenomenon with which we see Marx stn^glirig in bis theory of surplus value, so far as it is true— the phenomenon, that is to say, of the acquirement by capital of values in the produce of labour which represent monopoly rights not earned by«apital in terms of function. It is the phenome- non we have in view in that class of fortunes accumu- lated in stock exchange values which have not been tataed in terms of function. It is the fact underlying " TOWARDS THE FOTORE .,_ 477 every form of private right accruing from ^crease. « 18 the phenomenon we have in view in the „„» universal tendency in modem indusT-^to Jl^J am.e^h.p, or ts equivalent in monopoly coS with the resulting accumulation of vasfpri^^te f or' tunes through the enforced disadvantageTc Lei" of whole communities, and even of entire „tS It IS the fact underlying eve^r form of thT eSS tanffs or otherw.se, by a ruling race for its owrpS S m^f^'- • """'i"' °' '^'' •' '^ '»>« phenomenon which m^ets us m its final colossal phase in the inter -J^nal word-process, under the tendencj of a^rt" ^ZlT • «" "" ""-"'-"ed and i4poS S9"::::taSXTr^rri^^^^ Snd^l^Shot"""^'^''^---^-"^^^^ wo^""^"* ^' ^"* "^'^"""K expressions of a single eTt nlhe"""^ '^*=*-*'><= -«»dency of the prS ent ,„ the economic process in our time. It has Ln he conflict .„ which this ascendency of the present n the evohitionaiy process has been chalLged th„, ;!; '".^ °^«rthrown in the developments o though and action that have led up to the struggle nowbeiore us which has formed the central thfL n the history of the process of development we have traced so far through our civilisation. Upon the party representing the cause of progress in Western ll 47« WESTERN aVILISATION hittoiy has now devolved the task of lifting this con- flict to a higher stage than any it has yet reached — of carrying it into the arena of the economic process in all its manifestations throughout the world. Never before has that party had set before it a cause mi e calculated to inspire its inward faith, and to call forth all the qualities of a stem, controlled, centralised and disciplined enthusiasm. Behind the struggle towards which we have advanced lies all the impetus of past development in our civilisation, all the meaning in- herent in that civilisation from the beginning of our era. The gradual organisation and direction through the State, under the sense of responsibility here de- fined, of the activities of industry and production, moving slowly, not to any fixed condition of ordered ease, but towards an era of such free and efficient conflict of all natural forces as has never been in the world before, is no dream of excited imaginations. Divested of all the cruder proposals of confiscation and of the regimentation of society, divorced from the threats and not unnatural exaggerations of classes wronged and oppressed in the past, it is no more than a simple and sober reality of the future, which must, by necessity inherent in the evolutionary process, ultimately prevaU amongst the winning peoples. It is the goal which has been inherent from the begin- ning in that organic process of development, the steps in the unfolding of which in our Western civilisation we have endeavoured to describe. It represents the only effective condition in which the future can ever be emancipated in the present in human society. No mind in our civilisation has, in all probability, as yet imagined the full possibilities of the collective Iki^^ At. " TOWARDS THE FUTURE .^ 479 of responsibility here descriherf «f .iiT . * •tand at almost any point in the life of the En Jf«h speaking world of the present day to reiiscSw «: competitive era— the concept on of the State a« an irresponsible and almost brainless Colo«». organised primarily toward, the end S securinl Te^ in possession of the eaina H,™ "™ securing men uncontroned scra^l.^^^Z^^^i^^^ 1 " of responsibility. "vorcea trom aU sense Nevertheless, there can be no doubt that the n«w pies who have lived through this phase of th-'^ start towards the new era with a great advantage in thetf favour. For it must be expected that whS the ^ntained, the new system will succeed the old not by force or coercion, but by its own merits and 2 conditions in which it will become the LrSne function of an informed and centralised ^s ^^ of pubhc opinion to hold continually before the ee^eiS mmd through all the phases of public actiWty iS the principles governing the epoch of development on i\ 4«o WttTERN OVniSATION which we have entered ; and to aee that the benefits ac- cruing from the era of competition through which we have lived shall be retained and increased for society by compelling the new social order to make its way simply on its merits in free and fair rivalry with those activities of private effort which it is destined to supersede. The enfranchisement of the future in a develop- ment in which the race is passing slowly under the control of the principles governing a process infinite in the future is a principle before which all other* must eventually go down in the process of human progress. It is the principle with which the poten- tiality of our civilisation has been associated from the beginning. It is the characteristic principle with which the advance of the peoples destined to main- tain a leading place in that civilisation must continue to be identified. No human foresight could, even at a period recent in history, have predicted, without msight into such a cause, the worid-embracing future to which, irrespective of race, position, population, wealth, or natural resources, the action of this prin- ciple was about to raise in a comparatively brief period of time the small group of English-speaking peoples, otherwise so insignificant a component in our Western civilisation. So now all attempts to judge the future by any precedents drawn from the past, or by any comparisons whatever with standards which the world has known before, are entirely vain and meaningless. In the ancien* civilisations the universal empire towards which the worid had moved throughout unknown periods in the past had one meaning -..hich controlled all others. It represented mmm " TOWARDS THE FUTURE ^, principle of a oast en. „f k ' "* "*'">« in al, it, „uu.ifestatio.. th?:;;;!::^^. ''"'=''" ^l!]| m ;• , ^€^ess»mbs^^:-]ms'. A 'PENDIX one. who ^mam if EnS'lfr. ""^ "^ °*" '""-f"' by the advice of the »^fc^ 'i, f <=°"""<"> council and the episcopK wLch un t^"'^'""' ^ ^''" ^""^'^ ">« the English have nortenlhT^L ■"!, " *' '^"«'*°» °f of the holy c^.ns.£^"^''^ZZ"XV° ?" ^""P'• mand, and by roval anthnw!! T"*'"'™- wherefore I com- pertaining to the epiL^al lit „ .'■^'l'''* """' P'«« the judgiSent of s^I? „,!^ ' °°' '^ ""y ''"''8 before rule of wub but^hSveTsh JL'"' which pertains to the the episcopal la« in^n ^ summoned, according to purpose, and ^aS tJere t ^ "^ ?~''' °' -""»' ^^ 'hi' andThaU perftm h1rLTr"re' gS Tnd h" t- 1" ^^""' according to the hnnrfr-j ? ^"'^ *"' '"^op not and the?pi,copalS bZ ' "' '^'°f'^ '" *= ="""■» •com or be S^to coll v!l^ °"\"''"''^ ''^ P""^'- '^'^ the bishop. hTSe snZ ^ " *' •""^8"'='" *« °f third time and if not eveT.r ^°"'' '"*^ " '«=°"'' ""^ > ^.e shaU be ^^^^^^t^^^^^::^-^ 4«4 APPKNOIX riiu) I V- . (■; i iiJM-' J •MU M calM In. Em he who wm lummoned before the Judgnen, «.. of the bUhop .h. II. fo, each .ummon^ ^! the epiKop.1 fine. Thi. «lw I fo,bid, imd by m» .uihoriS^ tateriict, ,h.t .ny .heriff, or prevo... o; mini.4 of TS or uy Uynun, concern himielf in the matter of Uwi wS ^n to the bishop, no, .h.U »y Uyman .umLon .J^S Z7^^: '" -'' •""• - ">' b'h^rKX^ «-3- The Dtsrimi brwiin tm Empihoks ajid thi Popes 2. Htnry IV.'s Amwtrl, Gr*g„ry VII., Jan. 14, ,076 Henry, king not thiough usurpation, but through the hol« ordmauon of God, to HiMebr«!d, at pre^nt .^'V.- ^ Sl^diZt Suchgree.ing.,thUh„tftoumeritedXugh ^Wch^^^f' """■""Z'' " *"« ■" "° 8«"Je in the church which thou hast omitted to make a partaker not of honTur but of confuMon. not of benediction but of malediction. Pb" tom««t.on few«>d especial case, out of many, not^y S thou not feared to :ay hand, upon the rulen of the Mv bi.ho«f''r°'"''^°.'''''^'^-'''''^Wsholn^^^^^ bishop, and pnests- but thou hast trodden them undTw won favour fiom the common herd by cruriitai them th^ hast looked upon aU of them as knoiingnotWiT u% th^ j»Ie self, moreover, as kno^ring all things^ Th.7kno^^« however, thou hast used not for edifiXn but f^desl*^ tion; w that with reason ,e believe that St. Greg^ w^ cemmg thee when he said: "The pride of him Who fa L s^bl'ct' rr*' ''!. T\ '"' «""«^ *' number of7o^ subject to him ; and he think, that he himself can do m^ APPENDIX 4t| •ver. hut understood Z h,,J?L?T'"= "*«; ""ou. how- fened upon u, by God d^n/,^(, *' "y" P°*" =on- A» if we had receivS'ni^t? «» threaten to dive.t ui of it. kingdom and Telre wS*l^™ '""» "••« ' ^ » the »»»<" ' And thi, altS ^rj^"l'"« "? not in God', to the kingdon,. -iidZ.Z.^^lTS^'^'' *<» =«" "• hood. For thou ha,t ^^Z^l'^^r^" '° *e priest- wile,, namely, whkh th^ n™fr '' "'«/°"°''ing .tep,*. fly h«tachievJ'motyt^"/!"'r °' T*" ""'°"' «hou throne of peace. And from 1 th"' > ""' ""'"'' "»e disturbed peace, inafiStItE:"°L''T "■°" '^^ those in authority over them^lZ T^'"''J"''»8»''>»t not called, hast taueht tlLt ™ ' '"^'»»='> «» thou, who wert be despis.;d ; iL^Sht^ thl' h«r ^^ "^ ^od "e to ministry over their pries" iwS'the'm'^/" '•'"*° ^ demn those whom they themselv- h,rf ^°.^T^ "' W"- fiom the hand of God throXh^ . "^'"'"' " '"c"**" ".hops. On me ^ wSthtl ' °* O" of hands of the the anointed, have^e^il^T^'* ''°''?"'''' '° ** ^-nong dom, thou h^st iL-n tS^ Tni '^'u "^"'"^ '° ^^ king- the holy Fathek tLtitiJ" Iri" "^ '^'"^°' posed for any crime unleis Itt^JS l^"" °°' *° "^ de- "lone. For the wisdom lt,uT^ ^ *'" Judgment of God Julian tho airno^to L^f '^"'S'" ^""""'"•'^ "^^ be judged -nd to L to''""^;'?;.''"','" God alone, to Peter, also exclaim, "F.Tri; '°"'^.**« ^' Pope, thou, who dost noTfear G^ S^^h "°" "" ''"8" »« pointed one. WheX s^'Pau whtTh" "" "^ ""^ an angel of heaven if he ^Jl ^ ""^ °°' ^P^ed not excepted tiiee al^th' f ^Z' ?'='"'''"» otherwise, ha. For he sTysT "If any one either r*" °"''™'= "P°" '^'>- I 486 APPENDIX »nd by our own, descend and reUnquish the apostolic chair Which thou hast usurped. Let another ascend the throne of St. Peter, who shall not practise violence under the cloak of rehgr-in, but shall teach the sound doctrine .f St Peter I Henry king by the grace of God, do say unto thee, together mth aU our bishops: Descend, descend, to be damned throughout the ages. 3. /4W/ Deposition and Banning of Henry IV. by Gregory VII., February 12, 1076 O St. Peter, chief of the apostles, incHne to us, I beir. thy holy ears, and hear me thy servant whom thou hast nounshed from infancy, and whom, until this day, thou hast freed from the hand of the wicked, who have hated and do hate me for my faithfulness to thee. Thou, and my mis- tress the mother of God, and thy brother St. Paul, are wit- nesses for me among all the saints that thy holy Roman church drew me to its helm agujist my wiU; that I had no thought of ascending thy chair through force, and that I would rather have ended my life as a pilgrim than, by secu- lar means, to have seized thy throne for the sake of earthly gloiy. And therefore I believe it to be through thy grace and not through my own deeds, that it has pleased and does please thee that the Christian people, who have been espe- cally committed to thee, should obey me. And especially to me, a. thy representative and by thy ftvour, has the poww been granted by God of bincng and loosing in heave^and on earth. On the strength of this beUef, therefore, for the ^.Tl tu '^"""^ °^ "''' =''"=''' *" *« """"e of Almighty God, Father. Son, and Holy Ghost, I withdraw, through thy po«er and authority, from Henry the king, son of Henry the emperor, who has risen against thy church with unheard of msolence the rule over the whole kingdom of the Germans and over Italy And I absolve all Christians from the bonds of the oath which they have made or shall make to him; «id I forbid any one to serve him as king. For it is fitting that he who stnves to lessen the honour of thy church should APPENDIX 4«7 himself io«. the honour which belong, to him An^ .• tliou art P-t«^,^ ^^^ ^^ '"*"' ^^ ^"^ proof that God ^Ax^^^xz^X':^:^!^''''' prevail against it ^ "*" "^^^ °ot 4- The Bull "Clesios Laicos." ,,96 aj,. (Rymert /;„*„. ed. ,8,6, vol. i. pt a. p. 836.) Bishop Boniface, servant of the servants nf r^^ ■ petual memoiy of this matter A^Z^^ f ^' "" P"" laymen are in , kt^ ™aner. Antiqmty teaches us that wh'I^h al^'th'e ScS'tht"^"' '° '"^ "^'"^y- " ^-' or quota of their revenues or of their goods Lh?k attempt in many ways to subject them to sCer^'an"' duc'e dreadmg more to offend the temporal than the eS majesty without obtaining the authority or perLiss „„ o the apostohc chair, do acquiesce, not so muchTsWv « .-pro>.denUy,in the abuses of such persons We, S^Sor" 488 APPENDIX B!fii or promjse, or agree to pay -. levies or talli^'toUvmen mM4MsS aid, loan, subvention, subsidy or gift, or under T ,^ narne, n.nne. . clever preteLe. So the luth^ o7 that ^me chair : likewise emperors, kings, or piL™uk« counb or barons, podestas, captains or officials™ r^fors!! by whatever name they are called, whether Xwes ctti« or any places whatever, wherever situated; a^d^v oth" whoTillL'^'"" pre-eminence, condi«oror sLlg anywhere arrest, seize or presume to take possession nfth- shaU knowmgly give aid, counsel, or favour n fh» ,<■ -j umcanon. From the aforesaid sentences of excommunica- APPENDIX 489 'cr.fXltVTi-'V^^^ <^ay before .he 5- The Boll "Unui Suotam " with the exception of this ark all thin„ ."'?"°"- And, earth were, as we read, dL J^ef S Zch' "''°° ^'^ \i 490 APPENDIX wf. ^ t' l*',''°f- "' ^y^ " the ume time for H« wul-that is, for Himself the Iiead-and for H J body -which body, namely, he called the one «,7onlv church on account of the unity of the fiuth proi J ^e sacraments, and of the love of the church She U tlS «amleM garment of the Lord which was not cut tot wS 1^°'- ?"'*"■• °^ *^« °"* ^d only church U.Zta one body and one head-not two heads as if rt w^ ^ Peter, wd the successor of Peter. For the Lord Himself «.d to Peter, Feed my sheep. My sheep. He saW, ^.^ a His she«p. If; then, the Greeks or others say that th^ were not committed to the care of Peter and his success™ one shepherd, and one only. We are told by the word of said Behold here are two swords "-when, namely" the r^vlrr "^""^"^ '" ""^ church-the'Lord did no? reply that thu was too much, but enough. Surely he who demes that the temporal sword is in Ae power of plter w^ngly mterpret, the word of the Lord'^hen he »i Put up thy sword in its scabbard." Both swords the H .u' ? ."^' '°'^"*'' '° •>« '"eWed for the church toe other by the church ; the one by the hand of the pri«t toe other by the hand of kings and knights, but at the^U «.d sufferance of the priest. One sword, moreover, ouZ jected to the spiritual. For when the apostle says « there is no power but of God, and the power, liiat are of God ail ordained," they would not be ordained unless sworf wer^ under sword, and the lesser one, as it were, were led by the other to great deeds. For, according to St. Dion^ius Z lawof divmity is to Ie,d the lowest thLgh the inTeCe^e APPENDIX 491 greater. But if the greatest, it can be judeed bv God alnl- for him and h.s successors through Christ himself whom hs has confessed; the U,rA himself saying to Peter- "mat soever thou shalt bind," etc. Whoever, therlfo;e rTstu rtus power thus ordained by God, resists' the ordiStion of S tC r ""^^ ^^''"' ^^' *<= Manichean, that there are two beginmngs. This we consider false and heretic^ earth Inte^'""'^': "^ "'^'«> '"^ "«-<=- -d'L earth. Indeed we declare, announce and define that it is ^together necessary to salvation for every humai cm ^ttr '° "f ''°"'^" P""'"^- TheLteran?Nov1^ m our 8th year. As a pe^jetual memorial of this matter 493 APPENDIX 6. The Aorekmtot of thr People (A. pn^M ,„ ft. Ho». of Comno^ J„^ _ ,^. one .«. bdow foUo« .h.. ,. „, 3 R 7;"7 '^ '*«•> »d God having'r R^.^or^irr^r^'r' enemies thereof into our hanH. -. j deliver the bound, in mutual duty to SCr.:: T r"=''<« we can for the future, to av^d J^^ the rff *? ^' """ into a slavish condition «d It S„t2.? °^ "'!i"^« mother war; for as it cannot be iLt^ £ '^T"' °J r.TadStrth^ro-sTi?p°^ that «ek to n^lrThtX^ourasTer ^n'^^'"''' our former oppressions and no°yet e^d!^'^ k, 'u*"'*'"' occasioned eiUier by w^t of (T *"""" '""« •'^en council, or byVhe und^or L!^^T "*'*°'^ '""='^8» ^ by rendering'th.^Vmrti.l'^S^ ~'"'''«ti<'» thereof or »d resolved. God willi^ti°S' 2^! """l'*"'"' Representatives be neither left tnT„' ."""eafter our nor be unequaUy comtoted n J "^ """"^^nty for times for which they ^et^SS^'f ' T.T" ^^"^ '" ">« "^s and agree. '='°*«'«'ed. In order whereunto we declare m supreme authority, this present P=,r '^"" 1^"°"" «.>ve upon, or befbr^ S^^^ of "^^61:"' """ '^ ve'rSl^dlJ^L'SbSt": -r '^^i'-at this day APPENDIX 493 ta each countHld Ae plL^Th^"°'"' " .■"« «bovt ; „d be chosen. toWe up the »?rf » '"''^°'""'' ""« 'haU the «:ve«l number here mT„r ^!P«f "'"'''es at aU time,. »«ne, and numh^^) '"*'"'°'«^. ^- (Here foUow the sentei notTe^/y"^*" *f "°^°'^" °^ «>e 400 repre^ shaU we cause for LT^^ °' ^ """y °f ">em as they Provided also, that wh«e aTn^ Z '^"^ P">P°'^o'^ one representer or mor^ " aSL^d^^J^^tT^'i '° "''"='' proportion, not competent T,^» , ^ '°'""'' '° " "^w the number of repSl^ JT » ^"P^^Dter, or fature RepresentetivesTlr^f *^'"°' " " '«« to or villages near tEni^.r™r\t """"u**' °' P"^''«» joined therewith to'Xl^tiZ''"t°"' '~r«''' ^ "^ proportionable. elections, as may make the same seSa'tepS^tiVe'r: i^^:^ """'' ^"^^ '"- fcr that pu.^ „^;' °°~ " ^ y«'>"..and shaU meet May, by el^m ^nZi^ S^^l''^''^ -=°"d chosen to meet upon the secmA ^ ! Representatives so •owing, at the u,^ p^e ■» t^;^" "" ^' J"°« '»'■ place as, by the forean^ u "'*"°""'ter, or such other SUte to the tteSZutT"'*''^'' "' *' Council of and published to^'Sle it^h",""" *° '^■"•' »PP°»'«1 the time of el^ti^n .^H " '^'! ''"' •^«ty days before or elsewhere. She' se^ldC^".*? '^°'^ 'here, ing. unless ti^ey shaU aZm ^^ ?^ «> December foUow- but not to conlt ^e^TL rtn'^rr'r '°°°"' sentative to be on the fi«t tk '''.''^f ''on of the iint Repre- and all futi>re electfon, ^ L ''L" ^""^ ''«' '^'^ '^»'. =-ribed fox the same ";J^et!Sl°^'°8 '° ^' ™>es pre- 494 APPENDIX «««ving wage, from, My p.rtical«r penon J M,d ta dl elec- ^on., «cep, for the Univenitie., theyZu l4 m«. rf^ '„t^ one yew of <«e or upwuds, ?° l"" °"' *"'""■«• And we desire and recom mend It to all men, that, in aU times the persons to li chc^"n for this great trust may be men of course, fearing G<^ Id mrtheT""^ *"^ r °" R^pisenta^v^llodd t"f mt ^ hTr"""" 'V^' "^^^ 3- That whoever, by tfte rules m the two preceding Articles, are incanable Jt electing, or to be elected, shaU presume tTvote T or be present at such election for the first or second RerresenU tive; cr, bemg elected, shall presume to sit or voteTX of the said Representatives, shall incur the pain of confi ca tion of the moiety of his e.Ute. to Uie use of the pubht" APPBNOU 495 forcibly oppose moI«r o!T" . ^"J "^ «ny penon ihaU •enter., for tk. tirit Repre^u^^ **l''"'r "^'eP^- offending rtaU incur the dIoT^ ' ?* ***='' Penon so estate, l^th re.1 an" perCf -^ "h'-^^'^J''"' °' *" "hole to the value of ;fso^^ff" ' ''* ^ "" •» ««»'e whole jearwitho^K ml™- "T"""" ''"^« »« fender in each such Z: be ^T^' ■ ^^'^^ '^^ ^e of- after the committing h"X''^*"''l>ree months next tive is to make fonVe p^io"V» *' ""j; ^epre^nta- evils in future elections. T^t to tf, T'^,^'^ °' •""« »l2te may be certainly accLTS^I, ^ '"'' *" °®"" <>' maintain coiTupt^L„T^ ''\'°'' "" ^'^'*°n ^de to nor any officer'ofl"^^^'- °^» ^ouncU of State, any treasurer or receiveToTn^ "™'' °' «""*«». nor be elected to beTa r.^^ • """'*'' ">*"• "^e such. election shaU t^l^. ^^r^T:^^^^^ "^ ""=" lawyer shall be ch>vi.n i„. ^ ^° "» case any of Sute.'L he'^^"l^t2te""'"'?^= " Coun^ during that trust, j ForSo^ P'"**" "' » ^"^^ Representatives, each co^tiwhTn """"'""^ election of senten are to b; chosenCiThfr ""^ **"" *«* "P'*" if there be any, W ^^m ' tJ^" '"'^ •='"P°«'e and cities, no representee „e1.SaL^jrr?/I:'"°''' '° "'"■='» due proportion into so manrrdlucti ^ *"'*'' "^ " •nay elect two, and no Kurt a W, .1 '^"*'' " '»'='' P"* the setting fortii of wffii"^ '^f "presenters. For other circumstances herea^ir""'' ""i ** "^^ertaining of elections less S^t to^l""'""''''' '° '^ '° "ake the next Represents nT^^T ^'n"'^'^'' '" °"^" "> ">« ".an; &.r,uel Mo^er ^ohn fj^f ''L'''^''^ ^''"' K^'t'e. I 496 APPENDIX their haadi and wall, three or more lit penou in each county, and in each city and bonnigb, to which one repre- lemer or more it anigned, to be ai Commiiiionen ibr the endi aforeiaid, in thf; reipective countiei, citiet, and borongha ; and, by like writing under their hands and leals, ahall certify into the Parliament Records, before the nth of February next, the names of the Commissioners so appointed for the respective counti^, cities, and boroughs, which Commis- sioners, or any three or more of them, for the respective counties, cities, and boroughs, shall before the end of Feb- ruary next, by writing under their hands and seals, appoint two fit and faithful persons, or more, in each hundred, lathe, or wapentake, within the respective counties, and in each ward within the City of London, to take care for the ordeily taking of all volunta^r subscriptions to this Agreement, by lit persons to be employed for that purpose in every parish, who are to return the subscriptions so taken to the persona that employed them, keeping a transcript thereof to them- selves ; and those persons, keeping like transcripts, to return the original subscriptions to the respective Commissioners by whom they were appointed, at or before the 14th day of April next, to be registered and kept in the chief court within the respective cities and boroughs. And the said Commis- sioners, or any three or more of them, for the several coun- ties, cities, and boroughs, respectively, shall, where more ttian three representera are to be chosen, divide such coun- ties, as also the City of London, into so many and such parts as are aforementioned, and shaU set forth the bounds of such divisions ; and shaU, in every county, city, and borough, where any representers are to be chosen, and in every such divi- sion as aforesaid within the City of London, and within the several counties so divided, respectively, appoint one place certain wherein the people shall meet for the choice of the representers; and some one fit person, or more, inhabiting within each borough, city, county, or division respectively, to be present at the time and place of election, in the nature of Sheriffi, to regulate the elections ; and by poll, or other- 'vise, clearly to distinguish and judge thereof, and to make APPENDIX m bound, thereof, by Vhem Htlrth •^"»1 « «nd borough. respectively'^^I^d ^^ll ^' ~""""' ''««• »"kewi.e nominate and .pL'in?hv *" '" ''"^ '«='' Parish •"d «>.!,, one trusty pe^„'"'',^:"^' ""d" their Lnd. "•ke a true Ii.t oJ ^l' IZT'Jt^'^''^ *"«'"' '<> P«ri»he., who. according to the nl^, aw" •''" '''P^''^' voice in the election, -^a aforegoing, are to have are. by the ^.TZC^i^^^lTt^ ""? ''««'"8'' the» H with the Mid wman^h^^K • ""^ *'""'''; '^d '"ch time «.d place of ^S. *«nto "I'V" "^ "'""'' « 'he the nature of Sheriff, .t. afor*«M <• ^^ appointed in county, or division r«p«hVevwhi^K """ '"""«''• =">. as Sheriff, being prewnt at^t,,; '"' j^"""*" "PPointed time Unaited for the people', melw »k * °°" *"" ">« ent that i. eligible, as afor-iirt l^*' *u ° ""^ P«"°n P«»- there a««»bkd siuS cS for'LTen/ .H'' '"'" """^ keep the said lists and admit the neln. :. ^ ""'"* ^ or «> many of them as l^mii^^^ •^''™° "^o^ained, said elections; and havi"' /„?'"' Tu- ' ^'" "°'^ '° "»e publicly read in the aud"fn« nT.l ""' '^«'"'"'« '° ''e unto, and regulate anOeeppeacLr^'^' ^'^" P^-^'l tions; and. by poll or ofL™^ ^ °'''^*'' '° ""e elec judge of the Lme and h!Z'\°'''"'^..'"'""«"'»h '^d under the hands "nd seals of h^ifr ^"f"^'^ "' ^"'^« the electors, nominatinr/h^ '' ^"^ '" °' ""«« of shall make a ^me ret^ rfil^rP r ""''"'' ^"'^ *''=<=''d, twenty-one da^ afte™he el cZ"'''"?'''' »'-°^ds within thereof, or. for making ^yS"/ f1 '"' '^^'^"^' 'he Pubh. use; and Jso L^VZ^: ^t^'Jl^^^ 498 APPENDIX 1 |i^^ 1 [!)! ' ■ 1 1 ■ lid : uneh«nge.bly icled and delivered, between himMlf ud tU or more of the ^.d electori, on the one part, ud the per- •ont, or fe„.. penon, elected jeverally, on the other pwt, exprening their election of him u a reprewnter of them according to thii Agreement, and hii acceptance of that trmt, •nd hu promiie accordingly to perform the tame with fiuth- folneia, to the beat of hia und-^ntanding and ability, for th« gloy of God and good of the people. Thii coutk ii to hold for the first Representative, which ii to provide for the aicertaining of theae circumstance* in order to future Representatives. Faurthfy. That 150 members at least be always present in each sitting of the Representative, at the passing of any Uw or doing of any act whereby the people are to be bound • saving, that the number of sixty may make a House for debates or resolutions that are preparatory thereunto. />/M^. That the Representative shall, within twenty days •Iter theur first meeting, appoint a Council of State for the managing of public aflairs, until the tenth day after the meet- ing of the next Representative, at. - < that ntxt Representa- tive think fit to put an end to that trust sooner. And the same Council to act and proceed therein, according to such instructions and limitations as the Representative shaU irive •nd not otherwise. ' ' Sixtkfy. That in each interval between biennial Repre-ien- tetives, the Counca of State, in case of imminent danger or extreme necessit), may summon a Re—esentative to be forthwith chosen, and to meet; so as ihe Session thereof continue not above eighty days; and so as it dissolve at least fifty days before the appointed time for the next bien- nial Representative ; and upon the fiftieth day so preceding it shall dissolve of course, if not otherwise dissolved sooner. ^enlhfy. That no member of any Representative be made either receiver, treasurer, or other oflicer, during that employment, saving to be a member of the Council of State. Eighthly. That the Representatives have, and shaU be understood to have, the supreme trust in order to the pres- ervation and government of the whole; and that their power APPENOK 499 e««nd, withoat the coDKnt or eoncnrrence of ..» «.i. eiUjer by .« or l«d, nor for':LTm.H.^".:r^c SnZ' kingdom; Bve that they m.y take ori«^nT^K. , ^ ^* training, «.d exerciring of th^ d«,di! i„ . .-. '''™'°«' be in readines. for reStin., «f iw"^ • r""'"^ "V. to none be compeUablet'gS "« ott^^^^^ » ^iri? &zs:^"^:^-t^^S5? against such as have adhered tHh- v- °'^. "°"'"' 7 TK?* received, shaU remain accountable for the ^me firm or make null, in part or in whole, all rif^ .land, moneys, offices, or otherwise, made by tTe Snt P^l^' tenure, grant, charter, patenT^^^b^S^S 500 APPENDIX 4 1 ^^i !l^>* li,t ■ .i! kged from subjection thereto, or from being bound thereby M weU as others j. That the Representative may Ttlivl drw "'~" '."L""'* P*""" "' estate, whernoUw hath before provided; save only in calUng to account wd rZ? pubUc officer, for abusing or feiLg inTe" L7^ . w ^'P"'««='««t"'« """y to anywise render up, or fT ' J / "?''' "y °' "•« foMdations of common right hberty. and safety contained in this Agreement,Tor k^^ mens estates, destroy property, or make Si things common' t'reirbe 7ZVI °' ""* '""'"^"''^ cfncemm"t: there shall be a liberty to particular members of the said Representatives to enter their dissents from the major vote iW,AWj- Concerning reUgion we agreed as foUoweth:- I. It IS intended that the Christian rehgion be held forth t^e 1 ? '^;^^'"'»3'. by the grace of God, be reformed t<^ the greatest punty m doctrine, worship, and discipline ac cording to the Word of God; the instructing 7epeop^ thereunto m a public way, so it be not compulrive, Hte^ Uie maintaining of able teachers for that end, and for thi ta contrary to sound doctrine, is aUowed to be provided for may be out of a public treasury, and, we desire, not bv as the pubhc way or profession in this nation. 2. That to the public profession so held forth, none be compeUed b^ penalties or otherwise; but only may be endeavoured to b^ tion. 3. -^a such as profess faith in God by Jesus Christ however differing in judgment from the doc«ne woS fteS ^H ' "^\^ ^""'"''^ *"' *e profession of their faith and exercise of religion, according to their con- ^.ences m any place except such as . .all be «t a^art fo ti^e publ.c won,hip; where we provide not *-, themfunl^s they have leave, so as they abuse not this liberty to"he cM^ mjunr of others or to actual disturbance of the public p^^e APPENDIX <^i.ics ic ^,, ]._ ^t,~ ". "'uinances, statutes, and -tSt?Ltro'nr„e:f:rv^' ^^^°- -^ ti-e (except in case Xre such R^^ '^'"' "^"^P^""'^" dently render up, or give or ^.^ ^'P'"l=°'^«^e shall evi- common right, liberty and Lf^. """^ """ ''"""dations of -no he fhai. SttaSsrfheT' \*'^ ^^''^- lose the benefit and protectTon of th! f '"''' "^^'^-x^e. punishable with death as In !„ ^* ^^' ""^ ^^all be Of the things expres^dtTh'T'' ""^ ''"'°' '° 'he nation! m of this Parliament a^ the fi;!fTlT'-' ""= '="'-■■■' end portionaKe distributt^the ^uUTrtf 'th''^ ^^"^' "' P- be elected, as in the second ?h" L ^ "presenters to meeting to elect L RepresenLf T^ °^ '^^ P^°P'e'^ freedom in elections^,hT,r- °'^'' ""'' "'«' .^ending of Rep/esrat^Tere!.:! ^ t^' ^'"'■"^' vided for in the third Articlo • ,/ ,^> '^'»'eh are pro- persons to elect Tbee^ti "L"!^ ,^ rM<^«tions%f particulars under the thirKcl? '", 'u""' """^ '^<=°"'=erning nary; also the «,wer of rI '^''''"'^''^" extraordi- eighth Article, an'S^toi^e^t^X''""'' '° "^^ ^ "" '"e ing the san.e: like,^ e th? 1 ''i'"?"'^'' °«' fo"ow- underthe ninth AtSe concerZ" T^ """^ P"^'="'"» nutter of the tenth TrtideT HLs" ^ do"a' ""^ '^""'^ declare to be fimdamental to nn, r. ■ ^"°"°t and -fety ; and thereforTrb^^°"4rtreu"nt' "^'' """ o maintain the same a, God sh!f enable "s'-l^ '""'7 t^ -atte. in this Agreement we acTou": ^o Jt'^'^ 503 APPENDIX good for the pubKcj and the particuUr drcninft«nce» of numbers, times, and places, expressed in the severs* Articles we account not fundamental; but we find them necessar^ to be here determined, for the making the Agreement cer- tarn and practicable, and do hold these most convenient that are here set down; and therefore do positively anee theremito. By the appointment of his ExceUency the L^d! General and his General Coundl of Officere. John Rushworth, See, 7. tocsx, ON THE Extent of the Legblauve Power. 1690 The great end of men's entering into society being the enjoyment of their properties in peace and safety, and the peat instrument and means of that being the Uws esub- hshed m that society, the iirst and fundamental positive law of all commonwealths is the establishing of the legislative power, as the first and fiindamental natural law which is to govern even the legislative itself is the preservation of the society and (as 6r as will consist with the pubhc good) of every person in it This legislative is not only the supreme power of the commonwealth, but sacred and unalterable in the hands where the community have once placed it Nor can any edict of anybody else, in what form soever conceived or by what power soever backed, have the force and oblijta- -V ^1 which has not its sanction from that legislative w^d. the public has cho«n and appointed; for^tho^t Ais Uie Uwcould not have that which is absolutely neces- ««TMto Its bemg a law, the consent of the society, ov« whom nobody can have a power to make laws but by their o^ «n^ w .f "' "^^ ^^ ""' '°°^ '"'«""> ti« any one can be obliged to pay, ultimately terminates in this supreme power, and is durected by those laws which it enacts. Nor can any oaths to any foreign power whatsoever, or any domestic subordmate power, discharge any member of the soaety from his obedience to the legisUtive, acting pursuant APPENDIX SO3 whether it be alwav. i„ iL- pi^^xa in one or more. it is not, nor can^k^ hi Tk.TT""*'^"" ' y"' ««'. lives andVortun"oneSeo^le'^i":tw''r °^" '^^ power of every member ^Xi^t ^'"^ •"" *= J°i°' son or assemWy which is l.^!l?^"^ «'^'° "P '^ *''' Per- those persons had ha Le'if n';" 1!,''^ °° -"o" 'haa into society, and gave it ud tn^u'*"'"" ^""^ ^'y ""te'^d -v^r^^/otrVrHv-^^"-^^^^^^^^^ lire or p^^et oflthe^ ''a Z '^Z ^ '"'^ ''^ cannot subject himself to th^ ,r^' ^ '^'"' P^^^^, and having in the State of N,^^^?"'" °f another; the life, Ubl;,y, T^^i^T • K° 'u''"''"^ ^""^ °y^' the law of IWe ^vel m fnrT ^"' ''"' ""'^ «' ■»"=" »» and the rest ormall'd' Thi^^^ Ji'h'eTr'"" °' """'^ to the commonwealth, and by to thetl'.T- "^ ^'' "P that the legislative ca^ have no mo^ SaL fws^' Th^^^^ '° in the utmost bounds of it is lim^f-I "lan this. Theu- power the society. It Ta Lwer l^Tl ° '^' P""'= 8°°'^ °f ervation,Id thrrefori^Vtl^^ri'^htl 'h '""■ enslave, or designedly to imooveri^h I w? '° '''"'■°>'' gations of the law of N^f,™ ^^^ subjects; the obli- ^ many «^«^ a^ dJ^*"? "'^ "'" « ""^'"X. but only known Ses^'r,:^ '^^^'^^ ^J^' by human laws! tion. Thus the law of NalUnH ' °'" '^'" °'»'"*- all men, legislators as weuTohl^ Th'" 'T"^ ""' '" make for oUier men'Trn™^ ^''^ ™''' ''^t they other men°, actions b^conr """^.'^ "'" ■" '^"'"'^ and «>. to the^U of Til r uT'''' '° ""= ''"' °f Nature, mankind.no human sancUon^^ b": gL^"; ^^:,~u>! 504 APPENDIX ^Zf''; ^ '*"'*'^^' °' ™P'*'"'' """hority cannot a»ume to itself a power to rule by extemporary arb.W rithrAf^K "■ "^^ '" ^'^'^ i^'*^ inddecidT^ nghts of the subject by promulgated standing laws, and known authorued judges. For the law of Nature being Z- w^tten and so nowhere to be found but in the minds of men, they who, through passion or interest, shaU miscite or misapply it, camiot so easily be convinced of their mistake ,Tn >, rj' "° "'"'"'''"^ J'"^8'; ^"d » it ^^'ves noPas l^ose that live under it, especially where every one is judge mterpreter, and executioner of it too, and that in his o^ case ; and he that has right on his Jide. having ord„Z W,I r ''!°?\'''<=°8*, hath not force enough to def^d himself from injurifes or punish deUnquents. To avoid these mconvemences which disorder men's properUes in the stSe of Nature, men umte into societies that they may have the urn ed strength of the whole society to secure and defend Aeir properties, and may have standing rules to boundUby which every one may know what is his. To this end it is Aat men give up aU their natural power to the society they enter into, and the commmiity put the legislative power into juch hands as they think m, with this t^st, that th« sC be governed by declared laws, or else their peace, ZlTd S^roTNT^" "- '' ''' ^^ --^^- " -^-^e Absolute arbitrary power, or governing without settled standmg laws, can neither of them consist with the e^s^ society and government, which men would not qdt the fre^! dom of the state of Nature for, and tie themselves up unX andn,>. r? "^'"u"''^ property to secure their ^eace and quiet. It cannot be supposed that they should inte^ had they a power so to do, to give any one or more an CitJ^n T. ^1 ■"''P""'^'' hand to execute hi^ un- Umited wiU arbitrarily upon them; this were to put them- «lve. mto a worse condition than the state of Nat!r" APPENDIX SOS maintain it. wheth«avJXfl!? **""' °^ '^«=« "> bination. Whereas by1u!n,«i„ "u*''""" °' """r « com- ^Ives to the absolateLE^„t'^ ^*'^^"' "P «>em- they have disarmed ZS^TZ "^"^"^^e^^^. '^ prey of them when he S, S 1"'"''' '^'^ '° '^'= condition that is exposed toTe'a^ht^"* "" "^ ""^ """^ who has the comm^ of a hnndrS?^'^ ^T °^ ""^ ■»« « e-cposed to the arbitl^ ""^^^'l^".^^ ^^ ^e that «ngle men, nobody beings^cwe'L/v "n'*'"' *°"^'"«1 a command is better than thl^' ^ u" '"" ^''° "^ ^"ch force be a hundred hould 1°/,°*" """■' *°"S'' "s fore, whatever form the c^ln^'uf °°8''- ^nd, there- power ought to govern bvdX.^^" •""^"' '^^ ^'"g not by extemporiy dkmesld T^ ""'"'-^ '^'". ""d for then mankVnd^ ,^ " ^°d undetermined resolutions, the state of Nature!^ they sh'u IT' '°f''"'°° *"» '° men with the joint power of a mS^rf T"^ """ "' " ^'^ obey at pleasure the Ixorb^t a„H ,'• *" ^°'^^ «■«■» ^ their sudden thoughts or unr!!f -^^ ""'"""^ ''<="ees of -ay guide and juSfy 'tht'Ss'Tc^'^^S: '"'^ ^'"'^ government has, being onlv for fhl' ? ^ ** P°"'" *« [t ought not to be a^Wt^^d at n1 °' *' ""''y- '^ be exercised by estabS^H n ^ r*"*' '° '' ""^^t to the people rJy^Ztt^'fr'^'i'^^^'^-'^'^^i^ within the limite TZ Uw a^d L"", *^ '^'^ '»'* ^="« their due bounds, ^d „^' ^ teL"!^'^' '?*" "^'P' "**» have in their hands to TL^. ^T"^ ^^ ^^ P°''" they measures as tCy w^fnlTh ° f'P"""' and by such willingly. ^ "^"^ "°' """« known, and own not Thirdly. The supreme power cannot t,l,- fc„ any part of hi, property ^thom ^. ^"^ ^"^ ">« presemtion of pro^2 ^^""t l^ T <'°"'^'"- *'°' "^^ Ur^ 506 AFFENDIX ing into lociety, which was the end for which they entered into it ; too gross an absurdity for any num to own. Men, therefore, in society having property, thty have such a right to the goods, which by the law of the community are theirs, that nobody hath a right to talce them, or any part of them, from them without their own consent ; without this they have no property at all. For I have truly no property m tliat which another can by right take from me when he pleases against my consent. Hence it is a mistake to think that the supreme or legislative power of any commcnwealth can do what it will, and dispose of the estates of the subject arbitrarily, or take any part of them at pleasure. This is not much to be feared in gov- ernments where the legislative consists wholly or in part in assemblies which are variable, whose members upon the dis- solution of the assembly are subjects under the common laws of their country, equally with liie rest. But in governments where the legislative is in one lasting assembly, always in being, or in one man as in absolute monarchies, there is danger still, that they will think themselves to have a distinct interest from the rest of the community, and so will be apt to increase their own riches and power by taking what they think fit firom the people. For a man's property is not at all secure, though there be good and equiuble laws to set the bounds of it between him and his fellow-subjects, if he who commands those subjects have power to take from any private man what part he pleases of his property, and use and dispose of ii. as he thinks good. But government into whosesoever bands it is put, being as I have before showed, entrusted with this condition, and for this end, that men might have and secure their prppertiei;, the prince or senate, however it may have power to make laws for the regulating of property between the subjects one amongst another, yet can never have a power to take to themselves tne whole, or any part of the subjects' property without their own consent; for this would be in effect to leave them no property at all. And to let us see that even absolute po-^er, where it is necessary, is not arbitrary by being absolute, but is still limited by that reason, and con- APPENDIX SP7 fined to thoae ends which nvmir.^ ,•. i i. jusUy death to disobey or dispu^th7Z* °. "' "^ '' unreasonable of them- but Tl J dangerous or setjeant that could comm^d a ^1^: I*"" ""'^" ^^e mouth of a cannon, or stand in TSch wS "? 1 '^^ sure to perish, can comnmnd tl^t sSdier t, !i Z^""^ penny of his monev norT- , ? '° P''* ■"" one to de' th for d«:y°Lf pfr^ ^„r *?! ^--^'-^ w™ desperate orders, c^ot yetCh 2 ^ .wf?* *' ■"«' Kfe and death di;po.e of o'^I SS^J ^tKKT^L^f or seue one iot of hi« ar.^, u soioier s esute, SLr - "• •"^^'^ ^t.'s^r ,s -R'wr^/J.. The legislative cannot transfer the now«. „r mk.„g laws to any other hands, for it Wng but a Kt^ co..onwe^twS'lt:or.tulTtLe''reJ:Svfi1 "PPomtmg in whose hands that shall\e S'X*^ 2t Mi 508 APPENDIX If people have uid, "We wiU lubmit, and be K«m.d h, Uw. m,de by „ch men. and in »ch fornJ-K^ eE w*». they have chosen and authored .o make U^^ These are the bounds which the trust that is put in them Ij- the sooety and the law of God and N^^ We „tto f gSmlt 'Zt ^r"^ —wealth, in'^'aS fo™ have one rule .; Hchl^^r JtHiH* c"ou« and the countryman at plough. Secondly "^^l!,? i ' on the property of the people without the consmrof^he people given by themselves or their deputies AnH.h pwperly concern, only such goveramenrwhL ^e I Mve is al^ys in bein; or atTeasrwtre tle'peo^^ t not reserved any part of the legislative to deputies to b^ from fme to fme chosen by themselves. FouSS u„^ laws to anybody else, or place it anywhenTbnt wherTh? people have.- 7W Tna/is^s 0/ oSmZ^^^' *' 8. Th. VmomiAN Decmhaxiok of RKarrs, Jun. i,. ,„6 CHw ten follow thl in D. a Ritchie', A!«Wr«/ Jf^, Appendix.) A declaration of rights made by the Representatives of the good people of Virginia, assembled in fuU a^d frL rin ventiou. which rights do pertain "o^ern S fhe^ posterity as the basis and foundation of g^e^t c-ter into a state of ^Z^'^l^j'^'^'-^H APPENDIX 509 the coi Kfirp:!!!'- °' °r' '^ '^' ^'"'"d f« "..ion. o, oo^^^'Tnr:^::^^':^'^^'. ally '~uref ag^nst r^!:,'„f 2^"." »-' effectu- or j. „e to be htreX*' °®'=" °^ ""*«"»«. 'egislator, 5IO APPENDIX they have not in Uke manner uMntcd, for the poblic good. VII. That all power of impending tawi, or the execution of lawi, by any authority, without consent of the repreienta- tlvei of the people, ii injurioui to their righta, and ought not to be exetcised. VIII. That in all capital or criminal proeecntioni a nuui hath a right to demand the cause and nature of his accusa- tion, to be confronted with the accuMrs and witnesses, to call for evidence in his favour, and to a speedy trial by an impartial jury of twelve men of his vicinage, without whose unanimous consent he cannot be found guilty; nor can he be compeUed to give evidence against himself; that no man be deprived of his Uberty, except by the Uw of the Und or the judgment of his peers. IX. That excessive bail ought not to be required, nor excessive fines imposed, nor cruel and unusual punishments inflicted. X. That general warrants, whereby an officer or messen- ger may be commanded to search suspected places without evidence of a fact committed, or to seise any person or persons not named, or whose oflence is not particularly described and Tipported by evidence, ate grievous and oppressive, and ought not to be granted. XI. That in controvenies respecting property, and in suits between man and man, the ancient trial by jury of twelve men is preferable to any other, and ought to be held sacred. XII. That the freedom of the press is one of the great bulwarks of aberty, and can never be restrained but by despotic governments. XIII. That a well-regulated militia, composed of the body of the people, trained to arms, is the proper, natural, and safe defence of a free State ; that standing armies in time of peace should be avoided as dangerous to liberty; and that in aU cases the militaiy should be under strict subordi- nation to, and governed by, the civil power. XIV. That the people have a right to uniform government ; APPENDIX Sii «nd therefore th.t no government .epmte from or tadewa ontyX' "if anTT .°1.'^'~'»'P"8 it. can be direct^ t^i 9. Dkumhon or Inde«ni,«c« or ™, UNim, Statks or Amejuca, July 4, 1776 coir«I;>''(S;;-.2^ "Jr^J^ l^'i'^" •"•»'««« .» *. Sherm,^ wd Rrf«t R^S . ^^ ^"J""'" ''"''"'■■. «"«" 5" APraNDDC [|i In Ctngrtu, Jufy ^ 177$ Th* umnUmous Detlaralion ef«u TTUrtun VMHdSlakt »/ America When, in the Coune of hnman ever.,, it becomei neeet- -ry for one people to dinolve t>. ,.utic«l budi which hive connected them with Mother, and to usume unong whii"!!"? *?„""'' ^' "P""* "^ 'I"*' ««'*on tS wluch the Uws of Nature and of Nature'. God entiUe them a decent respect to the opinion, of mankind require, that they .hould declare the caum which impel them to the We hold thcM truth, to be Mif-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. That to secure theU righS Goverament. ut in.tituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, that whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to insti- tute new Government, Uying its foundation on such princi- ples and organising its powers in such form as to them shall •eem most Ulcely to effect their Safety and Happiness. Pru- dence, mdeed, will dicUte that Governments long established ^uld not be changed for light and tnuwient causes; and, «:cordmgIy, aU experience hath shown that m«,kind^ ^r ^^ \ "!"• "''"' *^ "* '»«'«"ble, than to nght themselves by abolishing the forms to which thev are •ccustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpa- tons pursmng invariably the same Object, evinces a design fa thllr/ 1? "u*^" '""°''"' Despotism, it is their right, it fa the^ duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future security— Such has been the pabent sufferMce of these Colonies; and such is now the necessity which constrains them to alter their former System. of Government. The history of the present King of Great mittedto.cndidworir '^'^ "^' '" f«c«i be wb- (W«.u„o.ak,3,dj,o,.,„,.) (M.cdon.ld'. A^rt A>«««ft.) ASTICLE I. S w;5f ™.°:^^^^^^^^ o7rp^7i ,-j ces droit, sacrts « Sblt^"'*'^'''"''"'""'''^'"'. pouvant comparer saTr^.. ' ^"^ '°"' '" "'oyens, I« but de toute ::L" tXn s " a :n?:n '" «"-'='»-«' -ec' et avilir par la tyrann e '^' '?'''*"^'"J»«'»"°PPrinier •«yeuxlesba,e^T°'ui^t2^"'«P'="P|=-'tot,jour,devant 5»4 APPENDIX goaveraement est institn« pour garantir k I'homme U jonii- Mnce de ces droits ngturels et imprescriptibles. a. Ces droits sont l'n) that dieir entire fiUlure to oS S has been due to the want of a bribe. 8. The second class of cases are those in which thi.,~^«. lent extort, the bribe from those wlT^ve ^uSsS^'^ ness relauon, with his principal This practice Trended Dlackmailers. The servant or agent who demands a com- fdlorin'^h "^ "^ "!="^' "' "°' ^equerta^"^ tadeT 11"^: rf °° '° "^ *^' against the hono^ ^S'cS o"Lm? '""'^'' *" °"* ^^ '^^ ^^ - 9- In stating the result of the information received in relation to the several trades, and aUo to sol° ^^Z£^, APPENDIX SI9 9<9 "»«t, the worn fo™o? which S?i' ^"° °^» "°«y W- the bu«ne« done; mI^^^ ^ S-ft '"'' "-"i^on «, P^e, the borrower at S,ell^w"^P» °' »'"«. which who. if he be dissatisfied wiUft? '^"^ "^ '^^ 'ender. receives, can caU in or ^e^. » ?f°^' °^ ««tom he •jn-e, the bribe c^^ Tt^ll"1 ^' *"' "^' '»'°«- things. «>d «,t infrequenu/ Hsl," '?''''' ^ '' °' »'''« oriavid, hospitah^Sd freattog '^'°""""«^ ^ *» form «>e"o,r^:fC„^-^^^^thos, .ho venture to put «8 a "discount," though^Kr . ■" ^' *"■" """"ed the principal, but to hfa^^f " " '"»^'' °^ «"«»e. not to tbeaSttrh^n^rnj^t'^'r^''-- '-^- « great and complex as to r.^^ ^^l" ^ '"""^ P^-^-w towards pmity vZrr ^ " ''°P"'» ^ stnifOfle ofthematt^'^-Tj;"^£om™tt« do not take this Z ject and the publid^ T^^ the d«cussion of the sulv havealreadyLe°L;'^«^» before the Uw Court, fict that corruption fo.^"erlv eS2 L''t^ '^^ "°'^°"'"«> ffons where it is now ^-1?^^ " ^ "'^^ w »«- ««» in past tiSes to S'^h"^"'?' ^' '^'« '^e occupants of the Bench ;£fatt?lfrr * ""^ "P"" the members of the Hoiseof r^™ * '"«' °"'»'«' <>' the Crown • and tLt ■ 9°"""°'" were in the pay of of bribed id?d L" gT°"" """ °^'' secret'^rorms Committee ac^^t L" ^""'""""t Departments. Your in these ^S tZ'Zm:'''' "^ '^'"=° ^^' encouragement for th-^ Jast fifty years as a fact full of fin. ^e7«Sn'':fre?hru ^^1?°^^''^' ^^■ legisUtion to check thrVw " '' '^«"-»'>le to introduce considered by Sr Com*^r "^X^ ''^" '^"^ ^^ been forcibly urged S STc^ o'f P ? "' °" '^''' '' ^ i Sao APPENDIX themwlve, to be paitie« to .„ T^J',?**"" 'H'o aJlow •Wnk with C^tb^ZJS '™™«^°'^ '"'^d «»-«W. On the other WH '^J-ftio" when made themselve, in the w^l of ^;'*7'"' ^^°'^^» ?«»«» place, it i, ne.« «rL^r f "^f""" ^° ^^^ ""t veo. &r beyond the d/hI^ ''«^'**'°° '° ""J^ance in the next place, it would J . ""''ghtewd on the matter; the oiTence, ^h IdwltX TJ" "^ '^'^^""y «» "eflne Of an innocenTor ta^^eh^* "^^HT "'"^"'*'« «=" consideration that the l^n ' ."»"' """y. <«==■■"- the secret, and that it wol^«^ """"^ " "« ^"T °ften evidence, and un^ to eonvi^,t"'''°,°'''^° confiraato^r i3. If legisU^ *° toT °f " ""8!« ""confirmed oath^ Committee fhaT it shLdr^^H"'P''*'' '' "PP*"" «°y<">r receipt, the offeriL "^ .hl^? f"™«^ *« payment,^he ment; and .!«> tSf S^f ^^ ''•" °^"°'' ^""P' P'^" calculated to enable fT^Sr'" °' °*" '^'^■""' liis principal, and thsS it^ ^^' ''°'"°"' » ^"^ "Pon petition by them. '^^ ^^""^^ "^ supported by a ridered by the Chamber, and tKiL^r^'^^'''^ ~"- be anived al^ the matter shoiJd hi '^"^^^ conclusion for the preparationTfs^Sf KlT^r' 'k ' "^""""""^ they may think proper toinWte ^'^ "'*^" »» ap^iars'oyr^^^t'iu'^^i^rh''^^^^ '' the community wiU ™„? .k ™r'' """y •» done if only Committee maViXviewXSol''^^''- ^°- '6. The more freauent .3 '^8'"«K«''ons••- of the pnncipa, ; af^dr^'ar^Sthafth*" '^l "«"'' be thus suted : _ aavised that these rights may («) A master or principal may recover from i.- agent everything which LTLT rS.^^' ,X' S t^ted with fiaSd oT,X f^ ^' T"""" «« nay be reopened and T^ on"»non, the accounts W A master or prindnal ™. Without notfc^ShZ"« «"•.'«• ™"e dismiss ■"y »"vant or w who W^"" •" """ °^ »«'«. closed a bribe. ° '^ ""*'^ed «nd not dis- a bribe from the olSerride '^""''° '^ «'"'«' I«id unde; thetntr^ct ,n"d w'Sfr'"' ""=" ^^ '»'« of the bribe was in exc^; of th! J' "^ =°°«q«ence W A contracting party whc^^Ll^' ^ °' ""k" price. •n «pite of its beL M^^rf°° °^i''«= '^°°'»« may, cover what he S boTto rtf ^k '^' '*^''"' ""^ ^ »7. The great ben^te ^rh ^^ "^^ *« bribed. enforcement of the apZ,„vi T'' ^ '^''^^ *<>■» the i8 Your Committee further sugeest • «X'"r S3 ^ir^-Ts^^ as those re^ «nd trades) be recommS STat ""* """^ ^"'^^"'^ ton on the subject of «cret ° T^*^ '^ ""?'"«= declara- coune already tien bv ti!f T„ , t°"'''°°=' """^ "dopt the f^cts, the InsSnofcS En'^ ""''''*! of British Archi! ■n'erting into their bveX„ ,TT; ^""^ ""'^ bodies, by f a^r of the pemiaoTptTtiCt^rt'^" *^' ""' -«»'^' by the Counca In ord^LTke ™.'^"''^ *« Society ° °^''« ""ch a provision effec- 5a» APFINDIX ing that nothing ta^n,^^ ^^^ ?^""- Mnnio^r^^?^ payment of commissions to the servanti employed, and coiresponding notices bv tho h^-T; APPENDIX 533 to perfonn, « pai^rHj"; Sj^^J^ '"Po""' duUe. dered e»pecjallv liahli. h, .iT- . """«». and are thua ten- Thi., in ^^L":" d^nS^K" °[ -"^^ ''"^ thehetdsoffiriM. ^**^ coniidemtion of M- The existence of a »»» - d««»in»ting clearer vieW^thln „1 ^""^ " * '»'»' °' ^.*f ""titution, mwId^douMT^ t^n.ST*'" "^ ™««>n and aUow influence ^ Ae riah^^"^?^ P*" ««wgM home to the youn« t«^nl, f„ ?.?^ *^'=*'°" *" be ---^-K.i.detHn^.t.rr^^'j^rs^j^ David Howaso, ^Mrman 0/ Commiuet. A*»Pted bjr .he Cc««dl of the Ch-nber. 7th July ,8^. ''^<»M F. Blaocwbx, Chairman of CouncU. Knouc B. MusRAy, n.S"to S'.rr s^Jr.'^".^- '^ «»' Com. dices have beerLn! ™ T v,^ contained in the Appen- Mty for their .IS^ht 2^: ^°°' "^'P' ^«P<»»i- :.'•''. '*"''~ f INDEX ^''•■XlOllIMIll of childno ._ . ,r** „ ^^ 4.*^ ' """ratog tram, 44i Ancestor wonhip,.67-,73,^ Animal,, duradon of Jifc oiler Aniwer of Henrjr I V. to G«iJ™ vil ^«77;te« of, 484-486. "*°'^^"- Archer, WjlUa.;r.wn: to°Xdd'!!S«"""'"»'""<'«.cy ,?--rn.^Tsr£ "ourirom, 458 "^ *""^"°"e»'7.popm«,onof.«!n. B Bacon, L. W., 333 B^hot, Walter, on miUtarycharao. ter of ancient Slate, i8i- deKri,^ "on of tendency of „|e„ ' Si PoMcal econon,; in E^gS to •-ommerce. acr «*wi ." .mpo«, on Roman empire, ^ ^r, "„ "° °' ^'^"« <" Grew Ari..ocr«:y, government of Va^i I R,Vf T"' 35'- !l s>0 »*»«« of mlTwrnnhii, K ■*«*.i«l«l<» of tin. tad to. WmlMioB la Alta, ito-n,. oooimaally Mm um of iho InlMwi •"•"•"waliMmlw.".,,- M_ □anx ■ ■— ■— ■Hij uw sun oi um bi oTth. imml aumtwn," 77; "tit, Pft|ll,.«M. "nofWifcrM* M«J^ of vi*.K ..,,..» Jlrdfc dmrndoa ofHfc of, 47. Bloo. OuuUd, 3lo^ «. "nwltaf , idMllfc. of hamu, „... Brif hi. Joha, Mortejr-. d«!riptkm of. B^. Jiam. ,4^ .6,, ^ ^ ^ A«*V*« «(«»ilr,. quoted. 1, n. ""^ I*^. «. Clerid. Uico. Mrf Unui Suoua. I BuBMB. C. a J.. 3«x BuAe Edmund, ud W«ot Ub. o»lUm, wi-ia3; oa th. tocU ""•nwl. t.3. ^^ Buiy.J.B..M3.;^.84. Bweier, S. H.,on problem of reoon- dllMlon of HebralMn ud Hellea- '•^. aoSi:. I Bnttertcld. a H.. quoted concemla. trn«i la the Uaited Stsfes. 4SJ. ^ j C»H IdHBd. 9 ... rt,, pi ,. ,^ C^W^^irS-lJotaMorhyqaoW oa wM. lalluno. ot M. a, c-^. ^ oT r5ort»«. Berop., ju-sq. C.mpu.ll..,o.a. C«»a law, inxrtb o( .I4 £ Canlwge Mua b^ Moliuim«l.a% ^k aigae. .4x^43, .fc. <=^JJ5»;^»«r «f I ^^ «I0|W M-1^^ !, ;™~'° "fc.34- S*. S«. 63. 191. ** "• coMidered the end of In ,h. *' D.i.h.th.EngUshil^?/'- »?r^' """"'ng of modem I, De«lop™enta,.o,,of,nowreUted Sa» INDEX ^■»1«Mc.l .tad- =»««i>.econonUoth«ayof,i,n. I "•aoniofemiin*"^' •^'"''l. of polidiTj^^"^ l««nt.t.te «on.hipb2i™°S^4=n^ I '"'*379fl: '~™<»'«conomy ^««J. Aristotle'., , -a. E»clusion of ChlneM. «a_„ E«omn,unicta™"^«^S» Middle Age^^Kt*^" °* *■ ^^^"•"t "-"tio. of life ""^oranWtotheoqrof^^j^^ "" Fairbata,A.M.,«,„ , fuot in the indfrtd^r^^T*""- „ n.e,-e naner of „ «"**"mwel. and fte^ ^^™cy of a Puritan oligaTcht Owner, Professor Percy, ,„oted George, Heniy. 474 ;;.„. ■'■•»='• '*^ '3.. 13^.38 „.; ^n the existing membeni of ^ety, ro, a^. pop„,.,i„„ '0 n., dominance in, of theon; "fomnipotence of the State, 9sT ftemeaningofWestemLibir^i,- n;entof„.Tvir^';2S;,«r^: the economic process in se^,^' n^omr'"™""'"^'P°P'^«o» m Koman empire, 183 addings, Professor, 03 n jaa, wh?; '" "•■ ""^^"■"^ Of- «,» fteth centuty, ,6 „.. estimates of tacrease m population .mone European peoples, 346. ^ God-hypothesis, the in „,„ , French thought, ,ai,'"ff"™"' Gorren, Aline, 193. ' Gostwick, Joseph, 406. arV', In Europe, 18; efliciemy of the party system in, 35, ' Gnostic controversy, the 237 Grand Remonso^ance, the ,a<-,«i G™.t Britain, statistiti Of '^putaton ?;.«"•• P^oiple of n^frSTn- liMity applied to expansion of 450-454. &. England. G«« Commerce, science of the. G™tIndost,,,con,idemaon«fthe, Gn*:e earliest history of, onsideted 159 ff. ; age apparently most glo- nous in was one of decline, a» conception of virtue in, ai8 ^' Gteen, T. H., 9 n Gregory the Great, Pope, area mann mission of slaves 235 ^"^ """""■ ''"':'"'',■''''•. Pope, acute phase of !:"«t'-^«'> spiritual ^Srrem. Poral power began after ,cce«rfon S30 MMMi INDEX tJZ' text of deeree of, deporiw Wl ««>»ii« Hem, IV., 4.ilX* •a-Darwin)aa ichool, 85^ I Idkneu tte ri«er of ft«Kio„ .^ «>nlini( to Soetatea, i«8, ao«. ™^'. 4'-4ai Inteiea, of*^ "ort-id. according to recent viewi, faj;«. S3; d«.th of. ne^Jry to S^J ^^J"*^' ''"bole S6° -tWt)' with «;lf.intere.t of. ^^ o«rder,.toptag^.„'«°J_^ ^«^i •"Jx'««"«ion of theV^- ^«ng«d«,. to ancient dviiiJ^ •^■^'ftrtum between. «k1 hi> .J ~»ta»„dofStoici.m,„S^ I.*nacld.. .mong GreekaTnTfe,. ^•, =30;?3>; changed aMtu* i^'-^^tatheChri^to^S? 'iSSri?' '?=* «»'-»i«ion, la ^of London Chamber of Com. »««r«6: t^ofte^ort^ committee, «z9u«n ,I»q«i.iaon.the.^3,3. l^c.1 concept of the. so^rt !««««, wcritiee of, to d^^^^-rf ."""^'oBentham.^.'*^ cording to theory of, 4- ««,ai4.ais. ""■"^•W. 17», INDEX tc::-,'.^"^-'^.''4,..5. A» Latmum, ijj. 531 Jacobi, I. •* •'TS;"'T"*^«^ economic J««l«, taken by MotSSSfan., Johiutoii, Charles, 348. Joriiprudence, development of Ro- "*».»M->i«: eflecTofrecSu^ ^de, in English tto„,h.,^„!?n ^S'M'i. 339 n.; diference be- tween system, ot in uan nntions ^O^^E-gUsh-speOing ^J^^ m6 by iisith.30B: by wo^ ^ Kont, Immannei. », 3»jm- sum "^oftheptoble^^S.^- luntiliy, iin, •■'^^ »»*lp. theoty oi; M , fiictor In the ^l»«on«y pro., ta K«|eS^ Kipa"«,Rudywl,3«S4n. Kales. 385. Ka«. John, work of CnMnlsm In S«Xl«n"l canted oat by. «T !**«". eomprtition of, of yellow tL^J^ i"" " " *« "»«««" LiE::*, ■ ^* ■ '*'" "' State to lnlB*re in question of, challenged ^ ""<*«« capitalists, 4,ft^^ conditions of, in Js«.. JsHs?' ard Unit«l States, ««. ^"yiw principle of, chief char, anensuc of MMchester school, aa- a direct consequence of spirit pre. railing under standards 0/ Ln- 430; forecast of ultimate phasTof competitire process of. as «, Lasalle, 11 n. "'' Laveleye, 338. 'i:°eXr'^"«°"' '""•""-' 'l.nirrRl"'!;^"^'""'"^' Lay mvestiture, 375 it I^r.W.E.H.,ax9,a37,a88,a9i, "93, *>6; quoted concerning the oTs'rtr'"'^'- •""-"'« Leo the isaurian, a66. Leroy.B«ulieu, Paul, quoted, 08 • fte State the sole God of tti modem world," lao. Leasing, 8. ^b^m.^-- '« "4- ^^ *"* ^^"i^' «/ Ain.*s, cited. quoted, ai-o., 374. '^'■ LAMncreas,, of. is in geometrical «<»>. 34; enormous power of in- "«ase m, the first fundamental conception of Darwinian theory 34-3S ; Weismanns theoiy of dura- ,^»°''f«; duration of, «xord. 1^ to theory of external control, I^'', •«»"»'■« 'o theory of ^It,"!"'"'- *''• Spencer's definition of, 570.; sacredness of in modem State, compared with «c.«t world, „s: dilTerencein attitude toward, between Greek and Roman and the Christian dvilis*. ttons aao-a3a; eSTorls for higher I ""^^ of. among fcctoty hands. 417-4H, 454. ^ . ™' ?»''="l»«°» of. concerning increase in plants, i^-a« "".38J. **■ 532 fll m Uoy*" «mi"K lack Ta^^ fri^J'": ""■u*. 36 a. ; conceived the Staff 108, doctrine of native eqSr/ .« accepted „.«„.'pj^ nectionbe,w4^;S'D.^.f"- "«««■«- 3«-..;«.^id°rrorof -^-iinrp£?^^'-'. Marshall, Alfred, ^^3 Martel, ijg '*^'^3- v;«.a/d^Le";ftV!"ri' of thought of ™ , ' P"*" ^tagonism tfThife?™ ' °' ««giou. belief, x^ti '^'" °' Mantian socialism c c , Marxian. *' Socialism, Massachusetts, a cen(~ i . founded on the Tllt„"°""' •uthoritj-anda sD^cT" " "''« «oncf„^C„:Se'"'"P«^ Massingham.H.W.,!,,"'^''- Mate„ahsn,,French «°i„.Q.^ ""in, 189-136 ' '■^ • "«r- ?«.. 93. SidgwjcJc's, cited, Will, Tames ^. ^. 76. society as identical, Mill, John Stuart, a c ,a^ „ . bor.Spencerconfpa^^'^ «"■ -"S"nui£'::S"" «cl.no*Iedp^SrS'e12r^' ""t- Miiandola, Hco delta. 30a INDEX Kcured bj iniatutioj of polyram. lnSouih«B„dE«,.moou„,riei:; Monmsen, on citliauhip In .ndmi and .l,v,) of Ron.™ empire u, Montesquieu, 189 "' MonUljr, .cjence of accorHi— . Morley, John, q„„^ «,T: ™ Nelteshelm, von, 303n Nietnche, Friediick, 30,06-0, „,. Nol^ras--??£ divisions of the mn™l ■ 339 n. sciences, ^^■f^'g""""". 'eking! ooms, 36^7 . signifieance of, is in 41 46, the ,dv«ice on Darwin's O'Connor, Feaigns, 33 n. Open-door policy in China, ^s^-tio. Om o,y of Divine Love, the. ^*^ Ordinance of William I. of '^^a quoted .0 show that to dat^Jf: ""•« of slgniUcnce <^T^*^ Naniral Selection was in l:^, cemng tem ..„„gg,. ,„ „,»_ ™ce, 45 „.; q^g,^^ D.nvi„., early posj^on in maC of^co,ou,s,m.rlcings,..e.,i„j: Otto I., Emperor, 367. ofn™t^''""°'"='' of' '■■"»« the^rS^';^; """e possible by ft^ Principle of tolerance, 359 S^ Pa^pot.,tas. right, of the, .95, «^, ^ul IV., Pope, 3,3. P""™-". Charles H., predict, com- 534 nut—I. -■• INDEX l»P«<:r. a^ "««» of, with 5"MpII-ofSpiUn,», "lines, influence of »,~. Iheoloii^' ™"*' ""' *« a«t ""ocming cSntr^^f^bS:::^ ^■|.por,l„d.piri,.^J„,J^ •Wction of r? ■ *•«; re. Inliuce r^ '•^^ -WWcHon of, ^p~p«n^ig3r^2^.f. scotisrsw^""' ■* '■ <««»»jeaed Efficiency nrinrfrj. -, 9B. ■"*«■'• areffli"«,ehed, P~P«n7 qmUifiMdon for en»ri-. 193 n. •""rt™. the, in England. 3:5^. INDEX 535 Q«i««, deducaon of iheorr of loci^ R *^'' "93. 308. 311 n. "^.MiWon. «,«^^ ^^ R«fonn«i„„, u„, „ .^„ ft.^^r'""'"'""* " ""dent In Of ea«f of, on Southern people, S14;.pecMeoftheworwSe;' 3.6^17; TOnlt, of, on the oo„: t^lf^"- '°Scottand,3« Region, view, of Eneyclopadta. ^"o n. ; modem F™,chc^ J^on of, «cording to Ren.» Dun,on,.„dU™y.^„4','^J 3«). Mm; attitude toward, iZ- ga; in ancient ci,dli«i,io„,, le^ffT *"«' condden anceitor wr^ •Wp«rootofe»«y,,Mn.°c^ «».on,di«ijy^^^^ Z of, ai7; identity of, u,d Uw in ancTOM dyilisuion., Van iP««««« «, /^, Sm.oX:d;ed. "sTnu^ti^n?,?-"'"' "£ftrx"o:'orr.'^ Ideal of Machlavelli, 301. Rofcher, 385. '^ Roseberjt, Lord, 241 tton of, of «rfe.,ce of loeiety,^ A«rr of «d.l contmc, dW nj ornate with. ,04; quoted co" SSi:',"n'"*'""'""»«''"'- R"»ell. Bertrand, 10 n., ^1 o „„ German Social D-^oSU ' " '30-131. 13a n., ,38 u. ^^ »'• l<<"«i«, population of. is n. S *"»»Mnoe, the ItaBan, aoo tt R^^ews oi; on religiiS belieC, ^•ftHc, Plato'i. 187, ai8 3S3. FL.i^a^!'^''' "5. 4»: in R^oDa.id,s;coneepdonof,of Mate and jocietjr „ identical, 76: =-^C^rr£"^ "ne outcome of dniaiaity." 233. St Augustine, quoted, aai. „,. h. fluence of. on CharlemaiuTk^i: Sai™,on, Christian concept of aS S«da^.^ Thomas CoU.^!; qio^ ^n^:Jf^ A. a, concerning Darwmian theory, 390. ^ Scandinavian countries, stati«ics of papulation of, 16 n. "»■«=» « Scbelling. 8. "Pjahstic influence, in Am^ academic endowments, 43, SchmoUer, Gustav, i JO, ""■ «H. «3, ns.«9, Phiiowphr.^l? ' '^''**» Survi»al of fitteil u «— „• ^pwple.ofJSrS.Sr.?^'^ Sw^en, <«»ent^"'^2' R^^ a>urchb«,iAedta!^ •*•*»»«« Swiuerland, oondiHoi^rf » „ "Womuttor^S^*^ •*" *• Sjrmond.,JohnAddWon i« INDEX sw 46). ^^ PMMOle by, 3JJ flr_ «S:J^'™""-"-"od,™ Toun,b.ttleof,;3a I?*»«'>'i. M., «i „. "^g under jtandMrf. „? / ■'^ iJJ*^ elted. I7«. ^'^in^^i'T'"*-! -S.a,e,,3l3^S^- <" *» U.i..d| Telesio, 300,303 0. , 'ermoiy, development of *. >«">lc town Into tte tm "^ idvantaire of .^ ' 3"! "otto Slate, iS! ""^ *"'» a»i I,"""""».«H.»37^38. '' Uebermenwhen," the no m MJ-334 . oissocution of »»?j*i economic proceM fa ,h/ ™ ™ cftement after party j^u^,^ ^ H^ d2;i? """"OPOM" in,4a8ff' 538 OIDBc Mow-. i«,"T.*;„^''; "<« Women. con8MMlmrfV^"^**' «««».«*. of m.,^^^ Vuini, jox ^ ViilMion, tadiWdatl i«n»-j ». ^ •«4-lc>5; c^Ite and 1 Fnuoe, "^'36; ■«prr«ed 1 or eco. Off; w McriDee, iMdaof • of Die lliiuca iuiical oham. Dordjit pre- «7-