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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 79404 ***
+
+
+
+
+ _The International Crisis in its Ethical and Psychological Aspects_
+
+
+ LECTURES
+
+ DELIVERED IN FEBRUARY AND MARCH 1915
+
+ BY
+
+ ELEANOR M. SIDGWICK
+ GILBERT MURRAY
+ A. C. BRADLEY
+ L. P. JACKS
+ G. F. STOUT
+ B. BOSANQUET
+
+ UNDER THE SCHEME FOR IMPERIAL STUDIES IN
+ THE UNIVERSITY OF LONDON
+ AT
+ BEDFORD COLLEGE FOR WOMEN
+
+ HUMPHREY MILFORD
+ OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS
+ LONDON EDINBURGH GLASGOW NEW YORK
+ TORONTO MELBOURNE BOMBAY
+ 1915
+
+
+ PRINTED IN ENGLAND
+ AT THE OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS
+
+
+
+
+ CONTENTS
+
+
+ PAGE
+ ELEANOR M. SIDGWICK
+ I. THE MORALITY OF STRIFE IN RELATION TO THE WAR 1
+
+ GILBERT MURRAY
+ II. HERD INSTINCT AND THE WAR 22
+
+ A. C. BRADLEY
+ III. INTERNATIONAL MORALITY: THE UNITED STATES OF EUROPE 46
+
+ L. P. JACKS
+ IV. THE CHANGING MIND OF A NATION AT WAR 78
+
+ G. F. STOUT
+ V. WAR AND HATRED 103
+
+ B. BOSANQUET
+ VI. PATRIOTISM IN THE PERFECT STATE 132
+
+
+
+
+ I
+ THE MORALITY OF STRIFE IN RELATION TO THE WAR
+
+ BY ELEANOR M. SIDGWICK
+
+
+I must begin by confessing that I am so entirely without such special
+knowledge on any subject connected with ‘the International Crisis in its
+Ethical and Psychological Aspects’ as would enable me to speak about it
+with authority, or otherwise than as an ordinary member of the general
+public, that it was only after much hesitation that I accepted the
+invitation to give this lecture. I reflected, however, that in a crisis
+like this there is a general desire to exchange views. We all have views
+whether we are experts or not. We all have our minds fixed on the
+crisis, and have all made them up, with more or less definiteness, on
+such questions as the rightness of the war and what our attitude towards
+it and matters connected with it, as a nation and as individuals, should
+be. But with most of us, in this as in other matters about which we have
+to judge, the more or less definiteness is apt to be less. Or perhaps I
+should say that definite conclusions are based on vague and hazy
+premisses leading to confusion and contradiction and doubt—vagueness and
+confusion which can only be cleared away by resolute effort and a
+determination to try to see things in their proper proportion. In this
+process any of us who will sincerely try to think out and express his
+own views may help others whose minds are dwelling on the same things,
+and this not so much by compelling agreement as by offering points round
+which the thoughts of each of us may crystallize. I hope that anything I
+have to say will be received in this spirit, and that I shall be
+regarded not as expressing any original views or speaking from any
+standpoint of superior knowledge, but merely with the knowledge at the
+disposal of all of us endeavouring to make out what we do think and
+feel, and what we ought to think and feel, about our duty as a nation
+and as individuals concerning war and especially this present war.
+
+But before I go on to the main subject I must note that one reason given
+for inviting me to lecture was that I am a woman and it was desired that
+at least one lecture in the series should be given by a woman. I do not
+know whether this desire was prompted by any idea that the point of view
+of women as such might be different from that of men and that I might
+represent it and speak as a woman. I should be very willing to do so if
+I could, and indeed, if there is a difference, my point of view must of
+course be the feminine one. But I am quite unaware of any such
+difference, and do not see how in a great national crisis women can have
+a special point of view—the whole thing is above differences of sex. In
+many of the details of national affairs—chiefly practical affairs of
+daily life and legislation affecting them—the different experience of
+men and of women necessarily places them at somewhat different points of
+view, and the nation generally would, I think, gain by having both
+represented. But in the really big things, in things in which our action
+here and now irrevocably affects the whole future of our country, and
+(in the present case) the progress in civilization of the whole world as
+well—in a crisis, in short, like that through which we are passing—it
+seems to me that if the men and women of the country as such felt
+differently from each other the country would be rotten at the core, and
+would be doomed to defeat and decay.
+
+I know there are people who assume that there is a difference, and that
+according as one or other sex managed the affairs of the world there
+would be less or more war. But their arguments, so far as I have seen
+them, seem to take a very superficial view of the causes and
+consequences of great wars. I may mention two of these arguments. The
+first is expressed in a pamphlet written by a woman which was sent to me
+the other day. She maintains among other things that while the larger
+share of the suffering which war produces falls on the women, the honour
+and glory of fighting is exclusively enjoyed by the men, who in her view
+are thereby tempted to make wars which women would prevent. The other
+argument I will mention, and which is, I think, a commoner one, is
+almost in contradiction to the first. It is, if I understand it rightly,
+that as the labour and hardship and personal risk of the actual fighting
+must be borne by men, it is for the men—that is, I suppose, the young
+men of fighting age—to decide whether the fighting is worth while or
+not.
+
+Neither of these considerations seems to have much weight unless war be
+regarded as a kind of game played between opposing armies—dangerous no
+doubt, but still a game played for its own sake. The first argument
+dwells on the danger the game causes to the general public, such as
+might come, for instance, from playing hockey in a crowded street, the
+other on the risks to the players themselves; but neither argument looks
+beyond the war itself. But wars are hardly ever fought like games,
+simply for their own sake. Even a Prussian militarist party does not do
+that. It fights to gain some supposed advantage for its country. Even if
+the perfection of its war machine makes it long to use it, it does not
+do so without some ulterior object in view. And the ulterior object for
+which each side fights, whether it be legitimate or illegitimate, honest
+or dishonest, right or wrong, concerns the whole country, not only the
+fighting men. It concerns not only the men or only the women, not one
+class or section or another class or section, but the whole nation, and
+if it be a right cause and an important cause the whole nation must be
+prepared to suffer if need be and each man and each woman to contribute
+what he or she can and to sacrifice all that is required to secure
+success in the struggle. That cannot be done in a grudging spirit. So
+far as sacrifices can be measured, those who sacrifice most must get
+their reward in being proud of it.
+
+Our young men are in an enviable position, for it is they who have the
+chance of translating their patriotism into action in the most direct
+way. It is on their courage and endurance and self-sacrifice in the
+field that success largely depends. It is on them that the brunt of
+physical effort and physical hardship first falls. And in fact of course
+war could not be carried on without them. Our soldiers and sailors have
+been splendid, as we always knew they would be, and we may be proud of
+the way our young men have under the voluntary service system come
+forward and shown themselves willing to suffer and die for their
+country.
+
+But they are not the only people called on to give active service of one
+kind or another, and they are not the only people who suffer and will
+suffer. This is so in our own country, and we see it yet more in Belgium
+and the north of France. A war like this is a horrible thing. It brings
+sorrow and suffering to almost every home in the countries engaged in
+it; it impoverishes victors and vanquished and brings poverty and misery
+in its wake more widespread than the belligerent countries. It no doubt
+draws out some virtues—courage and valour, and, more important still,
+ardent ‘self-sacrifice for duty and the common good’—and we must not
+underrate these. But it also tends to stimulate evil feelings,
+brutality, bitterness, and hate, and to increase national selfishness
+and mutual distrust among nations.
+
+War is an awful calamity, and it is no wonder that some ask themselves
+whether all war is not wrong. No wonder that many more think there must
+be some way of securing perpetual peace. But it is of no use discussing
+the general question whether war is wrong. Any particular war is usually
+wrong if we consider both sides together—that is to say, it is usually
+due to wrongdoing on one side or the other or both. But the question
+that is important for each particular State is whether it is itself
+right to fight. And whether on any given occasion it is its duty to do
+so may often be a question by no means easy to answer. I hope that my
+opening words have not suggested to any one that I intend to be so rash
+as to attempt any general answer myself. To give such an answer would
+require far more knowledge than I possess, and far more space than I
+have at my disposal, and in the end discussion would probably lead to
+the conclusion that circumstances vary so much that rules are scarcely
+possible, and each case must be decided on its merits. Fortunately the
+present case is perfectly clear, and barely admits of difference of
+opinion, for we are fighting for freedom and independent national
+existence, and we are fighting in fulfilment of obligations deliberately
+undertaken.
+
+There are, I take it, few people in the world who would uncompromisingly
+advocate peace at any price. Few would not grant that a State when
+attacked must defend itself, just as in a country with no settled
+government a man must defend himself and his family from those who try
+to injure him, whether they be men or wild beasts. Few would deny (at
+least in any country but Germany) that a State must fight in support of
+pledges solemnly undertaken, like the guarantee by France, Prussia, and
+England of Belgium’s neutrality. A strong State cannot sit by with
+folded arms while what it has guaranteed is violated by another, any
+more than a man who has promised to help his neighbour in case of attack
+can shut himself up in his own house when the attack is made. It would
+be admitted, in fact, by almost all, that there are circumstances for
+nations, as there are for individuals, when they must fight for their
+life and liberty and that of others. And these circumstances have arisen
+for us in the present case.
+
+Is there, then, any possibility of preventing such circumstances
+arising? Can we hope that war will ever cease? I am perhaps a sanguine
+person, but I do think we may hope that it will at any rate greatly
+diminish in frequency. I am not, however, sanguine about the possibility
+of devising schemes for international government which shall of
+themselves secure us from wars.
+
+The first of such schemes is arbitration—and it is a good scheme as far
+as it goes. Given an arbitration court in which both sides feel
+confidence, and given on both sides a desire to avoid quarrelling, a
+good many disputes between States might be settled by arbitration. And
+as a matter of fact a good many have been so settled of recent years.
+But arbitration is necessarily limited in its application. Generally
+speaking, questions that can be settled by arbitration are either
+questions like those which in private life can be settled as civil cases
+in the law courts—questions of fact, or rights, or of interpretation of
+conventions, or of damage done which is capable of being compensated,
+and so forth. Or they must at least be questions, like those involved in
+most trade disputes, about which each side can put forward a more or
+less plausible case, the one comparable with the other.
+
+But even when arbitration is possible, it is only useful if both sides
+prefer peace to war, and cases that would lend themselves to arbitration
+are perhaps more often the occasion—the pretext—for war than its real
+cause, at least where great countries are concerned. However, we should
+none of us deny that arbitration may help materially in maintaining
+peace and should be used to the utmost.
+
+Still more should every favourable opportunity be made use of by States,
+while at peace, to remove by negotiation causes of irritation and
+friction which might lead to quarrels. Negotiation has over arbitration
+the advantage that the nations concerned are more likely through it to
+come to understand one another, to realize each other’s attitude and
+point of view; and are therefore more likely to trust each other
+afterwards than if they leave all that to the external arbitrator before
+whom each merely advocates his own cause. We in England have endeavoured
+for many years past to promote both these things—arbitration and
+negotiation about difficulties—to the utmost of our ability. And France,
+too, has worked with us of late, with the _Entente Cordiale_ as a
+result. I wish we could say the same of Germany; but Germany has for
+years managed to give the impression of thinking it her interest to
+prevent the sore places of the world—the danger spots—from being healed,
+and even of working to create new ones.
+
+But it is clear that there are some causes of war that neither
+arbitration nor negotiation can touch. Neither can, for instance,
+prevent wars of pure aggression. There is nothing to arbitrate about
+when practically the whole contention of one side is that Might makes
+Right and that therefore it proposes to secure what it would like to
+have by force. There is a proverb that it takes two to make a quarrel.
+There is some truth in this—enough to remind us, both in private life
+and in international affairs, that if we say and do irritating things we
+are responsible for the irritation produced. But it is much more true
+that it takes two to keep the peace. A nation that is determined to
+fight _will_ fight, and will have no difficulty in finding, or making,
+the occasion for it. Nothing can prevent it except the conviction that
+those it desires to fight against are too strong to be overcome.
+
+Wanton aggression for the sake of gaining power or territory or wealth
+is not the only cause of war which cannot be arbitrated about. Another
+cause which we have seen in operation within the life of many of us is
+the conflict of incompatible principles. The American Civil War was a
+war for principles. And we may observe that there was no militarism
+there—no perfecting of the war machine in long preparation to attack or
+defend. And, moreover, another of the plans for securing European peace,
+a federation of States for the purpose, failed here, for the antagonists
+were knit in a federation far closer than any we can conceive as taking
+place among the European nations.
+
+We need not infer that such a federation in Europe would be useless. It
+would be very difficult to arrange, but if satisfactorily arranged it
+might have some effect in preventing aggression, just as the fact that
+England, France, Germany, and Belgium were bound by treaty to preserve
+Belgian neutrality may very well have saved Belgium from attacks for all
+these years till now. But no such federation could be a complete
+guarantee of peace; for what would there be to prevent the federated
+nations—even if we assume them all to be actuated by good
+intentions—from disagreeing on questions as to how their function of
+guardians of the peace was in any particular case to be carried out, or
+whether some particular action of some particular State constituted a
+breach of the convention or not? Would there not here be as much danger
+of war as now? The only sanction behind the rules of such a federation
+would be the threat of armed intervention against an offending State,
+and if there were disagreement so that the federation were divided into
+parties, armed intervention would mean a European war.
+
+One method suggested for the prevention of war is an agreed reduction of
+armaments. Of course in this country we should all like reduction of
+armaments, and so would our Allies. It would, to say the least, save
+much wasteful expenditure, and if we fight this war to a finish and win,
+we may well hope that it will come about. But if it were carried out all
+round I doubt if it would in itself have much effect in promoting peace,
+for all would still be in the same relative strength. And if it were
+carried out only partially it would leave those who refused to reduce,
+who would certainly include those who wished to attack their neighbours,
+in a specially advantageous position for doing so.
+
+I have dwelt rather long on the difficulty, if not impossibility, as it
+seems to me, of really securing international peace by any scheme of
+international arrangement. But though I do not think the ingenuity of
+man has yet devised a way of doing this, I am nevertheless hopeful that
+progress in the direction of reduction of war is being made and will
+continue. It is on general improvement in the moral tone of the world
+that I build my hopes. Progress is slow; but although of course this
+shocking and surprising return of Germany to mediaeval barbarism is
+rather disconcerting to one’s optimism, the world still seems to me to
+be a better world than it was; by which I mean that it is tending on the
+whole to become less selfish and more just and sympathetic, without on
+the whole losing its energy and virility.
+
+Then another hopeful sign is that, except in Germany and in places like
+the Central American Republics, there is in these days no chronic desire
+to fight either in governments or in people. The desire may be kindled
+under the influence of angry passions, or in consequence of oppression,
+or by other causes, but it is not there all the time, and in most places
+it takes a good deal of kindling. Most European nations have tasted the
+sweets of peace, some of them know the horrors of war, and almost all
+wish for opportunity to develop their internal resources. Neither we nor
+any of our Allies in this war had any desire for the war. Neither the
+people nor the governments had. We have only to read the diplomatic
+correspondence that preceded it to feel sure of this. France, Russia,
+Belgium, England, simply wanted to be let alone. Serbia went great
+lengths for the sake of peace in yielding to Austria’s demands. The
+desire for revenge which the tearing from France of Alsace and Lorraine
+left in the breasts of Frenchmen for many years had practically died.
+They may have hoped that a change in the position of Alsace might
+somehow be brought about, but not by war. As one of their writers, M.
+Paul Sabatier, said in 1911,[1]
+
+‘La France veut la paix avec l’Allemagne parce qu’une guerre est une
+explosion de haine, et qu’elle ne se sent pas plus de haine pour nos
+voisins de l’Est que pour les autres. Elle sent sa solidarité avec eux.’
+
+But he goes on:
+
+‘Si le malheur voulait que ces sentiments ne fussent pas compris, et
+qu’après nous avoir représentés pendant plus de quarante ans comme ceux
+qui menacent la paix de l’Europe, on nous attaquât, oh! alors, nous nous
+élancerions avec l’enthousiasme de citoyens qui défendent non seulement
+le sol de leur patrie, mais qui portent une idée, qui par leurs efforts,
+leur martyre s’il le faut, fera son entrée dans le monde.’
+
+There are many States in Europe which for many decades have had no
+warlike impulses and have only desired to be let alone to develop
+themselves in their own way. If only, therefore, the moral perversion of
+Germany could be cured, and some perennial sources of friction, e.g. in
+the Balkan States and parts of Austria-Hungary, removed, the prospects
+of peace, if we are victorious in this war, would for a long time be
+very good. It is, then, these two things, the development of
+international morality and the removal of causes of friction, that those
+who desire a peaceful world must seek.
+
+What, then, is wrong with Germany? How comes prosperous Germany to bring
+the calamity of war on us all?
+
+Germany won too easily in her previous wars; and since 1870 has suffered
+from what our American cousins call swelled head. She applies to nations
+an idea which has, I understand, proved attractive to her in theoretical
+social psychology and in art—the idea of a superman who in virtue of his
+strength, physical and intellectual, is above all moral law, and has the
+right as well as the power to work his will on his fellow men. However
+much he may be admired in theory, we may be sure that the superman, if
+he appeared in real life and used his strength so as to annoy his
+neighbours, would in Germany, as in any other well-governed country
+where slavery is not allowed, be dealt with by the police. But when the
+idea is carried into international relations, and it is deliberately
+maintained by a powerful State that Might makes Right, that a nation is
+a law to itself, and not only has no duties to other nations but is
+bound to aim solely at what it conceives to be its own interests
+irrespective of all considerations of justice, veracity, and good
+faith—when a State holds this it is obvious that trouble is bound to
+come.
+
+Leading Germans have taught this Neo-Machiavellianism for many years. It
+is not only Treitschke and Bernhardi, of whom we in England have lately
+heard so much—it is not only they who have preached it; it has been
+widespread in Germany for half a century or more. Perhaps you will allow
+me to read a passage which brings out this fact from an essay on ‘Public
+Morality’, written in 1897 by the late Henry Sidgwick[2]. The immorality
+of Machiavellianism begins, he says:
+
+‘when the interest of a particular State is taken as the ultimate and
+paramount end justifying the employment of any means whatever to attain
+it, whatever the consequences of such action may be to the rest of the
+human race. And this “national egoism” is, I think, the essence of the
+Neo-Machiavellianism, which,—though views somewhat similar have
+frequently found expression from the sixteenth century onwards,—has been
+especially prominent in the political thought of the last forty years,
+and as I have said has found the most unreserved and meditated
+expression in the writings of Germans. I may give as an example the
+statements of an able and moderate writer who is by no means an admirer
+of Machiavelli. “The State”, says Rümelin,[3] “is self-sufficient.”
+“Self-regard is its appointed duty; the maintenance and development of
+its own power and well-being,—egoism, if you like to call this
+egoism,—is the supreme principle of politics.” “The State can only have
+regard to the interest of any other State so far as this can be
+identified with its own interest.” “Self-devotion is the principle for
+the individual, self-assertion for the State.” “The maintenance of the
+State justifies every sacrifice, and is superior to every moral rule.”’
+
+The practical aim in affirming national egoism, Mr. Sidgwick further
+says, of the writers to whom he refers,
+
+‘is almost always expressly to emancipate the public action of statesmen
+from the restraints of private morality.’
+
+It is this want of international morality—the absence of a moral code,
+not merely the failure to live up to one—in one of the leading States of
+the world which has more than anything else, and for many years,
+endangered the peace of Europe and has now plunged us into this ghastly
+war. It is the theory held in Germany that envy, hatred, and malice are
+not vices in a nation whatever they may be in individuals; that justice,
+veracity, and good faith are not virtues which a powerful nation should
+foster in its relations with other nations, however admirable they may
+be in individuals—it is this theory which threatens to wreck western
+civilization, and which has already shown us that the progress we were
+fain to hope had been attained in the humane conduct of war was largely
+illusory, and that international treaties are, for nations with
+Germany’s views, scraps of paper.
+
+Till this immoral theory is abandoned there is little hope of lasting
+peace. Have we, then, we must ask, any reason for believing that it ever
+will be abandoned by Germany? I may be optimistic, but I think we have
+reason to hope it. I think we may very reasonably look forward to
+Germany’s conversion, at least if we win. In the first place, the
+temptation to hold such a theory is much greater when a nation feels
+itself to be stronger than all its neighbours. As its might becomes to
+itself more doubtful, the disadvantages of the theory that Might makes
+Right become more obvious.
+
+Then, secondly, I do not think that Germans in general—whatever their
+statesmen may do—I do not think that Germany as a nation holds the
+theory quite single-heartedly now. I infer this from the fact that
+Germany tries to explain away her actions. If to attack is the right of
+the strong, why are Germany’s statesmen concerned to make out, when
+their case is so miserably poor, that she was not the attacking party
+but the attacked? If strong States are justified in ignoring treaty
+obligations when they think it their interest to do so, why, with such
+miserable arguments to produce, do they try to convince a wondering
+world that Belgium and France—not Germany—violated Belgium’s neutrality?
+It may be said that these arguments are addressed to neutral States,
+that Germany is aware that she has not got international public opinion
+with her, and is not strong enough—no one is—to be willing to do
+without. But so far as I can judge from the statements from German
+sources I have seen, it is not only to impress outsiders that these
+arguments are used, but to satisfy the conscience of Germany’s own
+people.
+
+Then, thirdly, there is probably an ideal element mixed up in German
+motives which is not purely selfish. All nations—including
+Germany—believe in their own _Kultur_. We each believe in our national
+way of looking at things, our national methods of administration, our
+own way of advancing civilization, our own plans of family life, and so
+forth. I do not, of course, mean that we do not regard them as capable
+of improvement—progressive nations are always trying to improve
+them—but, taken as a whole, we prefer our own way of doing things to
+other peoples’. Germany, which is, I think, deficient in sympathy and in
+the power of understanding other people, probably goes further and
+sincerely believes that her own _Kultur_ is necessarily the best for all
+the world, and that all humanity would gain in the long run by being
+Germanized—by force or otherwise. I think it is probable, too, for all
+her apparent substitution of Odin for the Christian God, that her
+visions of conquest include visions of future world-wide peace under her
+own domination. These benevolent plans for the world are mistaken, but
+the fact that they are benevolent at all, affords a hope for something
+beyond national egoism.
+
+There is yet another reason for expecting a change in the views of the
+German people. Although they are evidently very docile—very ready to
+think what they are told to think—still the opinions inculcated in them
+by their Government have been supported by false or misleading
+information conveyed largely through a manipulated press, manipulated in
+the way so successfully developed by Bismarck. But this is a dangerous
+expedient, for, easy as it is for us all to see things as we wish to see
+them, in the end the truth comes at least partially to light. As a
+result of the war—if we win—the scales are likely to fall from German
+eyes, the German nation will see things that have been hidden from it as
+a nation for many years, and with new premisses new conclusions may be
+hoped for.
+
+Do not let us, then, despair of Germany. On the contrary, let us look
+forward to a day when her many excellent qualities—her industry, her
+thoroughness, her methodicalness, her discipline, her patriotism—may
+under a freer and more independent habit of thought, and a less egoistic
+system of international morality, be an important part of the forces
+making for human progress, not only physically and intellectually, but
+morally.
+
+This can only happen, of course, through German public opinion, which is
+made up, as all public opinion is, of individual opinions and feelings
+acting and reacting on each other. And this brings me to some things I
+want to say about our duties as individuals in this crisis. The duty of
+patriotism, of helping in every way we can the cause for which we are
+fighting, I need not dwell on. We are fighting for our life as a free
+nation, and the help of every individual counts. The active help we can
+render varies of course much—for some of us it is necessarily almost
+non-existent. But what I may call the spiritual help—the help through
+thought and feeling, both as individuals and as contributing to public
+opinion—which we can all render, is important, and it is incumbent on
+all of us to see if we are helping as we should.
+
+There are two of the duties in this region on which I should like to
+dwell a little. The first is the duty of not hating the Germans. We may,
+and as I think must, judge Germany as having committed a terrible crime,
+but let us condemn her as a judge would, impartially and without hate or
+rancour; remembering, too, that if all who do wrong are to be hated, few
+in this world would escape. This war may be called a holy war if there
+ever was one. We and our Allies are not only fighting, as I have said,
+for our own national existence, we are not only fighting for the rights
+of small States, or for the liberty to develop each in our own way. We
+are fighting not only for these things, but against the principle of
+which I have spoken—the principle that Might makes Right, that there is
+no sense in the idea of justice and good faith as between nations, and
+that envy and hatred between them is natural and right. Do not let us,
+then, indulge on our side in the very vices we are condemning. How can
+we hope to diminish hatred in the world if we allow ourselves to feel
+it? How can we hope to have any influence in restoring or increasing
+peace and good will if we ourselves are full of hatred? Hatred is not,
+except in a very limited way, a source of strength but a source of
+weakness, and if we depend on hatred to enable us to win we shall lose.
+We must be absolutely firm. We must fight to the utmost of our strength
+and as long as necessary in the cause of justice. We must see that
+Germany pays the debts she has incurred (they are very heavy debts to
+Belgium and France and Poland and Serbia). And we must help to make
+arrangements which, by giving satisfaction so far as possible to the
+inhabitants of all the provinces affected by them, may give hope of a
+durable peace. But desire for retaliation—that is, to inflict on Germany
+the injuries she has inflicted on our Allies or on ourselves; or the
+desire to humiliate Germany because we think she would like to humiliate
+us, or indeed for any other reason—these things are unworthy of the
+spirit in which this war should be fought on our side.
+
+The second duty I want to insist on is that of not being afraid. I do
+not of course mean that we are to be reckless, or that we are to shut
+our eyes to difficulties and dangers, or that we are to say that things
+are well when they are not well. On the contrary, we must face the task
+before us, keeping steadily in view that it is a very difficult one and
+needs every effort we can make, as a nation and as individuals, to carry
+it through. But when we have done and are continuing to do all that is
+in our power to ensure success, then whatever we have to bear (and
+remember so far we in England have had nothing to bear like Belgium and
+France and Poland and Serbia), whatever we have to face, fear should
+have no place in our hearts. For fear is weakness. The task before us is
+hard and we may have anxious times to go through; as indeed we have had
+already in this war, and as we had in those other wars when England
+helped to save Europe from the domination of ambitious nations or
+individuals. But we are going to win now as we did in the end; then and
+even those of us who can contribute no active service can help to bring
+about victory by courage and hope.
+
+
+
+
+ II
+ HERD INSTINCT AND THE WAR
+
+ BY GILBERT MURRAY
+
+
+At the Natural History Museum, South Kensington, close to the entrance,
+you can buy for the sum of fourpence a most fascinating little book on
+_The Fossil Remains of Man_. It is official and, I presume,
+authoritative. And it tells how, in very remote times, before there was
+any South Kensington Museum, or any England, or, I believe, in the
+strict sense, any Europe, there lived in swampy forests in various parts
+of the world, troops of little lemur-like tree-dwellers. They were, I
+suppose, rather like small monkeys, but much prettier. They had nice
+fur, good prehensile tails, and effective teeth. Then there fell upon
+them, or some of them, a momentous change, a hypertrophy or
+over-development of one part of the body. This kind of special increase,
+the author tells us, seldom stops till it becomes excessive. With the
+lemurs it was the brain which began to grow. It grew and grew, both in
+size and in complexity. The rest of the body suffered in consequence.
+The fur became mangy and disappeared. The prehensile tails wasted away.
+The teeth ceased to be useful as weapons. And in the end, Ladies and
+Gentlemen, after incalculable ages, here we are!
+
+Now these lemurs had certain instincts and habits of life. Let us define
+our terms. By an instinct I mean, following the exposition of Dr.
+McDougall, an innate psycho-physical disposition to notice objects of a
+certain class, to feel about them in certain ways and to act
+correspondingly. They would notice an enemy, hate him and spit at him;
+notice an object that was good to eat, desire it and eat it. They made
+love, they protected their young, they defended their group against
+other groups. And primitive man inherited, with modifications, their
+instincts, and we have similarly inherited his. Some of them were
+generally desirable, and are consequently admitted and encouraged;
+others were generally undesirable, and have been habitually denied and
+suppressed in our conscious life, only to break out in dreams, in fits
+of insanity or passion, or more subtly in self-deception. But,
+suppressed or unsuppressed, man’s instincts form the normal motive force
+in his life, though the direction of that force may from time to time be
+controlled by conscious reason.
+
+
+From this point of view, I wish to consider what has happened to us in
+England since August 4, 1914. For that something has happened is quite
+clear. There is an inward change, which some people praise and some
+blame. There is a greater seriousness in life, less complaining, less
+obvious selfishness, and more hardihood. There is a universal power of
+self-sacrifice whose existence we never suspected before: on every side
+young men are ready to go and face death for their country, and parents
+are ready to let them go. There is more brotherhood and more real
+democracy; and at the same time, a quality of which we stood in much
+need, far more discipline and obedience.
+
+This makes a very strong case on the good side. Yet, on the other, you
+will find generally that reformers and idealists are disheartened.
+Friends of peace, of women’s causes, of legal reform, of the mitigation
+of cruelty to animals, are all reduced to something like impotence. One
+hears the statement that ‘there is no Christianity left’. The very
+increase of power and devotion which has occurred is directed, so some
+say, to the service of evil. The same process has taken place in
+Germany, and has there apparently reached a higher degree of intensity.
+To leave aside its more insane manifestations, a Danish friend sends me
+the following quotation from a German religious poet, much admired in
+evangelical circles: ‘We have become the nation of wrath.... We
+accomplish the almighty will of God, and will vengefully wreak the
+demands of His righteousness on the godless, filled with sacred fury....
+We are bound together like a scourge of punishment whose name is War. We
+flame like lightning. Our wounds blossom like rose-gardens at the gate
+of heaven. Thanks be to Thee, God Almighty! Thy wrathful awakening does
+away with our sins. As the iron in Thy hand we smite all our enemies on
+the cheekbone.’ Another poet, a clergyman, prays that the Germans may
+not fall into the temptation of carrying out the judgements of God’s
+wrath with too great mildness. Now the state of mind which these poems
+reveal—and I dare say they could be paralleled or nearly paralleled in
+England—is compatible with great self-sacrifice and heroism, but it is
+certainly not what one would call wholesome.
+
+
+In order to understand this change as a whole, it is necessary to
+analyse it; and I would venture to suggest that, in the main, it
+consists simply in an immense stimulation of the Herd or Group
+Instincts, though of course other instincts are also involved. For the
+present, let us neither praise nor blame, but simply analyse. At the end
+we may have some conclusion to draw.
+
+
+Man is by nature a gregarious animal and is swayed by Herd Instincts, as
+a gregarious animal must be; but of course they are greatly modified.
+Outside mankind we find these instincts in various grades of
+development. They show strongest in ants and bees, with their communal
+life of utter self-sacrifice, utter ruthlessness. I see that Professor
+Julian Huxley, in his book on _The Individual in the Animal Kingdom_,
+doubts whether among ants the single ant or the whole ant-heap is really
+the individual. I remember a traveller in northern Australia narrating
+how he once saw a procession of white ants making towards his camp, and,
+to head them off, sprinkled across their line of advance a train of
+bluestone, or sulphate of copper. And instead of turning aside, each ant
+as he came up threw himself on the horribly corrosive stuff and devoured
+it till he fell dead; and presently the main army marched on over a line
+consisting no longer of bluestone, but of dead ants.
+
+The instinct is less overpowering in cattle, horses, wolves, &c. Certain
+wild cattle in South Africa are taken by Galton as types of it. In
+ordinary herd life they show no interest in each other, much less any
+mutual affection. But if one is taken out of the herd and put by himself
+he pines, and when he is taken back to the herd he shoves and nozzles to
+the very centre of it. Wolves, again, will fight for their pack, but not
+from mutual affection. If the pack is not threatened they will readily
+fight and kill one another. A dog in domesticated conditions is
+especially interesting. He has been taken away from his pack, but he
+retains his fundamental habits. He barks to call his mates on every
+emergency, even if barking frightens his prey away. He sniffs at
+everything when he is out walking, because he has wanted so long to
+smell his way home to the lost pack. His real pack is now artificial,
+grouped round his master. It will take in his master’s friends and
+house-companions, including quite possibly various animals such as cats
+and rabbits. Meantime he rejects the strange man and cheerfully kills
+the strange cat or rabbit. His delightful friendliness and sympathy are
+of course due to his herd habits. A cat has no herd. She has always
+‘walked alone’.
+
+Now Man satisfies his Herd Instinct by many groups, mainly artificial.
+Like the dog, he may take in other animals. In ordinary life the group
+of which he is most conscious is his social class, especially if it is
+threatened in any way. Clergymen, land-owners, teachers, coal-miners
+tend, as the phrase is, to hang together. They have the same material
+interests and the same habits of life. Again, there may be local groups,
+counties or villages; or groups dependent on ideas and beliefs, a
+church, a party in politics, a clique in art. But of all groups, far the
+strongest when it is once roused is the Nation, and it is the Nation
+that is roused now.
+
+Normally men of science form a group, so do theologians. But now they
+feel no longer as men of science or theologians, they feel as Englishmen
+or Germans. I see that the Archbishop of Munich has expressed a doubt
+whether ‘any appreciable number of Belgian priests’ have been
+‘irregularly killed’ by German soldiers. There is an absence of class
+feeling about this remark which few clergymen could attain in peace
+time. I see that even the German Jesuits are sharply differing from the
+rest of the Jesuits, an Order famous throughout history for its extreme
+cohesion and discipline. The only bodies that have at all asserted
+themselves against the main current of feeling in the various nations
+have been a few isolated Intellectuals and some small groups of
+International Socialists. It was easier for these last, since with them
+Internationalism was not only a principle but a habit, and besides they
+were accustomed in ordinary life to be against their own government and
+to differ from their neighbours.
+
+In the main, what has happened is very simple. In all wild herds we find
+that the strength of this instinct depends upon the need for it. As soon
+as the Herd is in danger, the Herd Instinct flames up in passion to
+defend it. The members of the Herd first gather together, and then fight
+or fly. This is what has happened to us. Our Herd is in danger, and our
+natural Herd Instinct is aflame. Let us notice certain different ways in
+which it operates.
+
+First, the Herd unites. Wolves who are quarrelling cease when menaced by
+a common enemy. Cattle and horses draw together. We in England find
+ourselves a band of brothers; and the same of course occurs in Germany.
+Indeed, it probably occurs even more strongly there, since all herd
+emotions there tend to be passionately expressed and officially
+encouraged. Those who are ordinarily separate have drawn together.
+Canada, Australia, India, even Crown colonies like Fiji, seem to be
+feeling a common emotion. A year or so ago one might see in the
+advertisements of employment in Canadian newspapers the words ‘No
+English need apply’. You would not find them now. Even the United States
+have drawn close to us. Of course in part this is due to the goodness of
+our cause, to sympathy with the wrongs of Belgium, and the like. Most
+neutrals are somewhat on our side. But Herd Instinct is clearly present;
+or why do the German-Americans side with the Germans?
+
+Even those who are ordinarily at strife have drawn together. Before the
+war our whole people seemed at strife with itself, how far from natural
+causes and how far from definite intrigue on the part of Germany history
+will doubtless show. We had the Militant Suffragists, we had an utterly
+abnormal number of strikes and a great deal of rebellion against Trade
+Union leaders, we had trouble in India, terrific threats in Ireland.
+And, on the whole, these various enemies have now ‘made it up’. Of
+course it was much harder for them than for those who were merely
+separated by distance. There were serious obstacles in the way; habits
+of anger, habits of suspicion; often the mere routine of party attack
+which comes natural to small groups in strong opposition to a
+government. As a journalist said to me: ‘I mostly keep the truce all
+right; but sometimes, when one is tired and has nothing particular to
+say, one drops into abusing McKenna.’
+
+The chief problem that arises in this general drawing together is the
+problem of fidelity to the Lesser Herd. Sometimes there is no clash
+between the lesser and the greater. A man’s emotion towards his family,
+his associates, his native district, causes as a rule no clash. On the
+contrary, it is usually kindled and strengthened by some sort of analogy
+or some emotional infection. The emotions of loyalty, of love to one’s
+neighbours and surroundings, are all stirred; and the family emotions in
+particular, being themselves very ancient and deep-rooted in our
+instinctive nature, have grown stronger together with those of the Herd.
+
+But often there is a clash. For instance, an individual who has recently
+been in Germany and made close friends there, will, out of loyalty to
+this friendship, rebel against the current anti-German passion, and so
+become ‘pro-German’. I mean by ‘pro-German’, not one who wishes the
+Germans to win—I know of none such—but one who habitually interprets
+doubtful questions in a way sympathetic to Germany. Again, there are a
+few people who, on one ground or another, disapproved of the declaration
+of war. They are attacked and maligned: their friends naturally stand by
+them. The whole group hits back angrily and becomes, in the same sense,
+pro-German. Then there are people who are influenced by a peculiar form
+of pugnacity which is often miscalled ‘love of justice.’ It is really a
+habit of irritation at excess which finds vent not in justice but in
+counter-excess. ‘So-and-so is overpraised; for Heaven’s sake let us
+bring him down a peg!’ ‘Every fool I meet is emotionalized about the
+German treatment of Belgium; can we not somehow show that no harm was
+done, or that Belgium deserved it, or at least that it was all the fault
+of some one the fools admire?’ People of these types and others, some
+generous and some perverse, form, both here and in Germany, a protesting
+small Herd in reaction against the great Herd. Thus the Herd draws
+together, though lesser and protesting herds within it may do the same.
+
+
+Secondly, in time of danger the Individual subordinates himself to the
+Herd. He ceases to make claims upon it, he desires passionately to serve
+it. He is miserable and unsatisfied if there is no public work found for
+him. Discipline consequently becomes easy and automatic. I know of one
+case where a number of recruits in a certain new regiment were drawn
+from a local trade union of pugnacious traditions. One of them was
+punished for something or other. The rest instinctively proposed to
+strike, but even as they proposed it found themselves in the grip of a
+stronger instinct. They hesitated for an instant and then obeyed orders.
+Again, I seem to have noticed that there is in most people an active
+desire to be ordered about. We like a drill-sergeant to speak to us
+severely, much as you speak to a dog which has not yet been naughty but
+looks as if he meant to be. In ordinary life, when a man has to obey and
+submit, he feels small. The action is accompanied by what Mr. McDougall
+calls ‘negative self-feeling’. But now, it seems, we actually have a
+sense of pride when we are ordered about. It makes us feel that we are
+really serving.
+
+We may notice here a curious side-movement, a counter-action to the main
+stream making for union. Such counter-actions are of course always to be
+expected and need cause no surprise. Why is it that, among these great
+steady forces of union and mutual trust, we have sudden flashes of the
+very opposite, especially of wild suspicions of the Herd-leaders? I do
+not mean mere spy-mania. That is simple enough, a morbid excess of a
+perfectly natural feeling directed against the common enemy. You desire
+passionately to capture a real German spy; and, since you cannot find
+one, you make up a bogus one and capture him. I mean a similar mania,
+though much weaker and rarer, directed against the Herd itself: the
+semi-insane suspicions of Prince Louis of Battenberg, of Lord Haldane,
+and of persons even more exalted. Partly these impulses are merely the
+remains of old quarrels in feeble minds. But partly they have a real
+biological origin. For while, in ordinary dangers, the safety of the
+future race depends on the individuals serving and trusting their Herd,
+there are moments when the only chance of safety lies in their deserting
+and rejecting it. If once the Herd is really conquered and in the power
+of the enemy, then the cry must be ‘_sauve qui peut_’, and the panic
+which is generally disastrous is now a protection. Thus these small
+cases of panic, though practically unimportant, are psychologically
+interesting and have their proper evolutional explanation.
+
+So far we have found, first, that the Herd draws together, and next,
+that the individual subordinates himself to the Herd. Thirdly, it seems
+clear that this closer Herd union has an effect upon the emotions, and a
+twofold effect. As all readers of psychology know, Herd-union
+intensifies all the emotions which are felt in common. The effect is so
+strong and so striking that some writers have treated it as a kind of
+mystery and described it in language that is almost mythological. But
+there does not seem to be anything inexplicable in the matter. Emotion
+is infectious. Each member of a Herd which is in the grasp of some
+emotion is himself in a ‘suggestible’ state and is also exerting
+‘suggestion’ upon his neighbours. They are all directly stimulating his
+emotion and he theirs. And doubtless we should also remember that,
+Herd-emotion being itself a very old and deep-rooted animal affection,
+its stimulation has probably a sympathetic effect on all kinds of
+similar disturbances, such as fear and anger and animal desires of
+various sorts.
+
+Furthermore, Herd-union often gives the suppressed subconscious forces
+their chance of satisfaction. Hence come the atrocities committed by
+crowds. Some dormant desire, existing in your nature but normally
+suppressed, is suddenly encouraged by suggestion. You see a look in your
+neighbour’s face, and he in yours; and in a flash you both know what
+that look means. You dare to own a feeling which, in your normal
+condition, you would have strangled unborn. Suppressed instinct calls to
+instinct across the gulf of personality, and the infamous thing is half
+done. For the Herd, besides tempting you, also offers you a road of
+impunity. You can repudiate responsibility afterwards. It is never
+exactly you that really did the thing. It is the crowd that did it, and
+the crowd has now ceased to exist. M. Lenôtre, in his studies of the
+French Revolution, has commented on the somewhat ghastly fact that in
+moments of Herd-excitement people on the verge of lunacy, people touched
+by persecution-mania, by suspicion-mania, by actual homicidal-mania, are
+apt to become leaders and inspire confidence. The same phenomenon has
+been noticed in certain revolutionary movements in Russia.
+
+In England, fortunately, there has been so far almost no field for this
+kind of dangerous Herd-excitement. There has been of course some
+ferocity in speech, a comparatively harmless safety-valve for bad
+feelings, and in some persons a preferable alternative to apoplexy; but
+no violent actions and, I think, among decent people, extraordinarily
+little vindictiveness.
+
+But Herd-union does not intensify all emotions. It intensifies those
+which are felt in common, but it actually deadens and shuts down those
+which are only felt by the individual. The Herd is, as a matter of fact,
+habitually callous toward the sufferings of its individual members, and
+it infects each member with its own callousness. To take a trifling
+instance, a friend writes to me thus: ‘I discovered one day on a march
+that my boot was hurting me; after an hour or so it became obvious that
+my foot was bleeding. In ordinary times I should have made a fuss and
+insisted on sympathy, and certainly not gone on walking for several
+miles. But as it was, moving in a steady mass of people who were
+uninterested in my boots, and I in theirs, I marched on without making
+any remark or even feeling much.’
+
+The ramifications of this Herd-callousness are very curious and
+intricate. It acts even with Fear, that most contagious of emotions. The
+Herd deadens the fears of the individual as long as they do not become
+real Herd-fears. Untrained troops will advance in close masses. It needs
+good troops to advance individually in open order. The close masses are
+much more dangerous and the open order less so, but in the close mass
+the Herd is all round you, buttressing you and warming you, and it
+deadens your private fear. It may also be that there is here some
+hereditary instinct at work, derived from a time when the act of
+huddling together was a real protection, as it is with sheep and cattle
+attacked by wolves.
+
+If this Herd-callousness acts with fear, it acts of course far more with
+scruples or pities. The first scruple or ruth or criticism of the Herd
+must rise in the breast of some individual. If, by good luck, at the
+same moment it occurs to some dozen other men, it has a chance of
+asserting itself. Otherwise there is only the single unit standing up,
+in his infinite weakness, against the great Herd. The scruple is
+silenced and dies.
+
+Of course in actual warfare this callousness is immensely increased by
+the nature of the work which the combatants are doing, and the immense
+change in their habitual standard of expectation. You cannot always be
+pitying people, or you would never get on with your business. A friend
+of mine, a clever and kindly man, told me how he and his men, after a
+long spell in the trenches, utterly tired and chilled and dropping with
+sleep, had at last got into their billets—a sort of warm cellar where
+they could just squeeze in. They heard the scream of shrapnel sweeping
+the street outside, and some soldiers of another regiment and
+nationality ran up to the door begging for admittance and shelter. With
+one voice, so my friend said, he and his men growled at them and slammed
+the door in their faces. It was their own cellar, and these people were
+intruders. And they shut them out into the shrapnel much as, in ordinary
+circumstances, they would perhaps have felt justified in shutting them
+out into the rain. The strangest development of all is perhaps the
+disregard of the Herd for its wounded, and the readiness of the wounded
+themselves to be so disregarded. Of course there are abundant cases of
+the opposite sort, where individuals show the utmost regard for the
+wounded, risk their lives for them, and count no labour too hard for
+their sake. But I have certainly met with well-authenticated stories,
+notably of incidents in the German and Japanese and Turkish armies,
+which seem to take one back to some rather primitive instincts. The true
+animal Herd hates its wounded and kills them; cattle, wolves, porpoises,
+every herd of gregarious animals does the same. Of course it hates them.
+They not only tend to hamper its movements, but they present vividly to
+its eyes and senses the very thing that it most loathes—its own blood
+and pain. And one finds also curious instances where the wounded man
+himself is so absorbed in the general Herd-emotion that he insists, even
+angrily, on being left alone.
+
+Thus under the influence of Herd-union common emotions are intensified,
+individual emotions deadened.
+
+Now thought, unlike emotion, is markedly individual and personal. It is
+not infectious. It is communicated by articulate language. The Herd
+growls, cries, sobs, sometimes laughs; but it finds speech very
+difficult. Again, thought is critical, and the Herd wants unanimity, not
+criticism. Consequently Herd-union deadens thought.
+
+True, the herd-leader must think and plan, and the Herd will obey him.
+In an organized army, where discipline and organization powerfully
+counteract many of the normal herd characteristics, thought sits
+enthroned and directs the whole mass. But it is a special kind of
+thought, under central control and devoted simply to attaining the
+purposes of the Herd. Other thought is inhibited.
+
+For instance, if the Herd is angry it is quite simply angry with another
+Herd. This state of mind is normal among savages and primitive men. Some
+one belonging to a tribe over the river has speared one of our cows,
+therefore we catch some other person belonging to a different tribe over
+the river and club him on the head. Herd justice is satisfied. It only
+sees things in Herds. ‘The Germans’ did so-and-so; therefore punish ‘the
+Germans’: ‘the English’ did so-and-so; therefore punish ‘the English’.
+Whenever a Herd is offended by some action it is made happy by punishing
+as dramatically as possible several people who did not do it. Collective
+anger, collective punishment, are always opposed to Justice, because
+Justice only applies to individuals. And again, the more angry a Herd
+is, the less evidence it needs that there is due cause for its anger.
+Accuse a man of some irregularity in his accounts and the Herd will
+expect to have the charge duly proven. But accuse him of having drenched
+little girls in paraffin and set fire to them, and the Herd will very
+likely tear him—or some one else—to pieces at once without further
+evidence.
+
+By this process of killing out thought the Herd sinks all its members in
+itself and assimilates them to an average. And this average is in some
+ways above but in most considerably below that of the average man in
+normal life. For it is that of the average man not thinking but merely
+feeling. Only the leader has the function of thinking; hence his
+enormous and uncanny power.
+
+
+Lastly, let us consider the effect of this Herd-union on religion. At
+first sight the answer would seem simple. Religion is a network of
+primitive collective emotions, and any stimulus which works upon such
+emotions is likely, by force of sympathy, to rouse religious emotion at
+the same time. At any rate some of the causes which have recently roused
+Herd-emotion in Europe are just the causes on which religious emotion is
+often said to be based. Man has been made to feel the presence of
+terrific forces over which he has no control. He has been taught,
+crudely and violently, his dependence on the unknown. On this line of
+reasoning, the religious life of the world should be greatly
+intensified. Yet there are serious considerations leading to the
+opposite conclusion. A world so mad and evil, however terrific, can
+hardly seem like the mirror in which to see God. I remember a dreadful
+incident in one of the Consular reports of the Armenian massacres of
+1895. At that time the universal dread and horror throughout Armenia
+sent most people praying day and night in the churches. But the report
+tells of one woman who sat by the road and refused to pray. ‘Do you not
+see what has happened?’ she said. ‘God has gone mad. It is no use to
+pray to Him.’ I have myself talked on different days to two soldiers who
+gave vivid accounts of the hideous proceedings of the war in Flanders
+and of their own feelings of terror. Their accounts agreed, but the
+conclusions they drew were different. One man ended by saying with a
+sort of gasp: ‘It made you believe in God, I can tell you.’ The other, a
+more thoughtful man, said: ‘It made you doubt the existence of God.’ I
+think that the effect of this year of history will be to discourage the
+higher kind of religion and immensely strengthen the lower.
+
+Let me try to analyse this conclusion more closely, and see what we mean
+in this context by ‘higher’ and ‘lower’. I hope that most of my hearers
+will agree with me, or at least not disagree violently, in assuming that
+the attributes which a man ascribes to his God are conditioned by his
+own mind, its limitations and its direction. I could, if necessary,
+quote at least one Father of the Church in support of such a view. Thus
+the God whom a man worships is in some form a projection of his own
+personality. The respective Gods of a seventeenth-century Puritan, a
+Quaker, an Arab, a South Sea Islander, will all differ as their
+worshippers differ, and the human qualities attributed to each will be
+projections of the emotions of the worshipper. Thus the lower, and often
+the more passionate, religion will be directed towards a God who is a
+projection of the worshipper’s own terrors and angers and desires and
+selfishness. The higher religion weaves its conception of God more out
+of its duties and its aspirations. To one of those soldiers whom I
+mentioned above God was evidently a Being of pure terror, fitly mirrored
+by the action of a host of high-explosive shells. To many people in
+great oppression, again, God is almost an incarnation of their desire
+for revenge: let those who doubt it read the history of persecution. To
+others, an incarnation of Self. Some of you will have seen Mr. Dyson’s
+finely tragic cartoon entitled ‘Alone with his God’. It represents the
+Kaiser kneeling, a devout and fully armed figure, before another Kaiser
+exactly the same in dress and feature, but gigantic, august, enthroned
+amid the incense of ruined towns and burning churches, blindly staring
+and inexpressibly sad. It is a picture to ponder on.
+
+All these emotions, the self-worship, the hate, the revenge, the terror,
+will be stimulated, and so will the kind of religion that depends on
+them. The higher religion, of which it is less easy to speak, which
+expresses itself in the love of righteousness, in the sense of one’s own
+imperfection, in the aspiration after a better life and a world with
+more love in it ... that sort of religion, I fear, will chiefly come in
+reaction. It cannot be the main flood. There is too much reflection in
+it, too much inhibition. The main flood of Herd-emotion will sweep over
+it for the time being, but it will not die. There is a strange life in
+the things of the spirit.
+
+
+I suggested at the beginning of this very rough and sketchy analysis
+that perhaps at the end we might be able to pass some definite moral
+judgement on the change which has taken place in us, and say whether it
+is a good or a bad change. But I fear that the suggestion has not been
+realized. Herd-instinct in itself is neither good nor bad. It is simply
+part of the stuff of life, an immense store of vitality out of which
+both good and evil, extreme good and extreme evil, can spring.
+
+Thus it is impossible to say without qualification that we ought to
+rejoice in this stimulation of our herd-instincts or that we ought
+rigorously to master and reject it. Neither alternative is sufficient.
+We must do this and not leave the other undone. We must accept gladly
+the quickened pulse, the new strength and courage, the sense of
+brotherhood, the spirit of discipline and self-sacrifice. All these
+things make life a finer thing. It is nothing against a particular
+emotion that mankind shares it with the ape and the tiger. Gorillas are
+famous for their family life, and tigresses are, up to their lights,
+exemplary mothers. As regards herd-feeling in particular, we should
+realize that even in its most unthinking forms it generally makes a man
+kinder and more trustworthy towards his immediate neighbours and daily
+associates; the evil side of it comes into play much more rarely, since
+it is directed against the far-off alien herd which is seldom met or
+seen. And lastly, we should remember one piece of certain knowledge
+which is both immensely important and very difficult to apply: that
+thwarted instincts act like poison in human nature, and a normal and
+temperate satisfaction of instinct is what keeps it sweet and sane. At
+the present time, for instance, the people whose minds have turned sour
+and vicious are almost always those who can neither fight nor serve. The
+fighters and doctors and nurses and public servants—as a rule their
+herd-desire is satisfied, and they do their work with fervour and
+without bitterness.
+
+
+Yet after all we are thinking beings. If we acknowledge our instincts we
+need not worship them. Thinking itself is both an instinct and a form of
+public service, and it is our business to watch ourselves. We must see
+to it that this fresh force which we feel within us is not wrongly
+directed, and that the higher and gentler elements of life are not
+swamped by this new strong wine. Millions of men throughout Europe are,
+without stint or question, offering all that is in them to the service
+of their countries and the command of their leaders. We must see, as far
+as lies in our power, that we do not abuse that heroic blindness. And,
+among us who remain at home, we must see as far as possible that the
+normal texture of life is not lowered or coarsened.
+
+There has been current in England of recent years a reaction against
+reason, an avowed worship of instinct and tradition and even prejudice.
+The doctrines of this reaction are in themselves fascinating, and they
+have been preached by fascinating writers. The way of instinct and old
+habit is so full of ease, so facile and strong and untroubled. Look at
+the faces of men who are wrapped up in some natural and instinctive
+purpose. Look at a dog chasing his prey, a lover pursuing his beloved, a
+band of vigorous men advancing to battle, a crowd of friends drinking
+and laughing. That shows us, say the writers aforesaid, what life can be
+and what it ought to be. ‘Let us not think and question,’ they say. ‘Let
+us be healthy and direct, and not fret against the main current of
+instinctive feeling and tradition.’
+
+In matters of art such a habit of mind may be valuable; in matters of
+truth or of conduct it is, I believe, as disastrous as it is alluring.
+True, the way of instinct is pleasant. I happened once to be waiting at
+a railway station on a summer afternoon. There were several railwaymen
+about, rather wearily engaged on work of one sort or another, when
+suddenly something happened which made them look alert and cheerful and
+put a kindly smile on their faces. One of them had seen some small
+animal—I think, a rat—and a little crowd of them ran blithely and pelted
+it to death. One would have seen the same kindly and happy smile, the
+same healthy vigour, in the people who amid other circumstances let
+loose their hunting instincts on runaway slaves or heretics or Jews. And
+the man among them who should feel a qualm, who should check himself and
+try to think whether such hunting was really a pleasant and praiseworthy
+action, would, I have little doubt, have looked guilty and uneasy and
+tongue-tied. His face would have condemned him. ‘Why should he trouble
+himself with thinking and criticizing?’ people may say. ‘Why not enjoy
+himself with his mates! Thought is just as likely to lead you wrong as
+feeling is.’
+
+The answer of mankind to such pleadings should be firm and clear. Human
+reason is very far from infallible, but the only remedy for bad thinking
+is to think better. The question was really settled for us, thousands
+and thousands of years ago, by those little lemurs in the marshy
+forests. They took not the path of ease but the path of hard brain-work,
+and we their children must go on with it. That is the way of life and
+the bettering of life, to think and labour and build up; not to glide
+with the current. We of the human race have our work in the scheme of
+things; and to do our work we must use all our powers, especially our
+greatest powers, those of thinking and judging. And even if we
+deliberately set our faces in the other direction, if we yield to the
+stream of instinct and let scruples and doubts and inhibitions be swept
+away, we shall not really find life easier. At least not for long. For
+the powers to which we yield will only demand more and more.
+
+There is one character in Shakespeare, who is often taken as a type—a
+very unflattering type, I admit—of the follower of the mere instincts;
+who feels the release, the joy, the sense of revelation which they
+bring, and thinks that they will lead him to glory. And I suspect that
+some modern adorers of instinct as against reason will in the end awake
+to disillusion like that of Caliban:
+
+ What a thrice-double ass
+ Was I, to take this drunkard for a God,
+ And worship this dull fool!
+
+
+
+
+ III
+ INTERNATIONAL MORALITY:
+ THE UNITED STATES OF EUROPE
+
+ BY A. C. BRADLEY
+
+
+When I was invited to give a lecture in a series dealing with the
+present crisis in its ethical and philosophical aspects, I had been
+endeavouring to clear my own mind as to the basis of international
+morality, and also as to some proposals aimed at the diminution of war;
+and I thought that this endeavour might perhaps be of some use to
+others.[4] I say the ‘basis’ of international morality; not the question
+what in particular the duties of states to one another are, but the
+question whether states are moral agents at all, and, if so, in what
+sense. This question runs back into that of the nature of the state, and
+cannot help being more or less a philosophical one; but I aim only at
+the outline of an answer and at being intelligible rather than precisely
+accurate; and, the subject being large, I intend, without reference to
+opposing views, merely to expound, at any rate at first, a view that is
+mine only in the sense that long since it got into my head out of other
+peoples’, and to expound it without adding to every sentence the words
+‘so far as I can see’. Perhaps you will be kind enough to supply them.
+
+My second subject is not itself philosophical. Judgement on proposals
+for diminishing war requires good sense, some knowledge of the past and
+present, and some capacity for faith and hope about the future. These
+things are not philosophy; and yet one of them, good sense, might be
+called philosophy pretending not to know herself; and, in any case,
+reflection on the nature of the state may help one in estimating
+concrete schemes which cannot succeed unless they correspond fairly well
+with that nature.
+
+I must begin with some prefatory explanations suggested by the phrase
+just used. First, the nature of the state appears, of course, in a
+variety of forms; and a city-state such as Athens is very unlike a
+nation-state such as France, and both are unlike a state, such as
+Austria-Hungary, which is not based on nationality, or, again, a federal
+union such as the United States of America. But, to save time, I propose
+to ignore these differences and to take a national state as typical.
+Next, the full nature of the state is realized but partially in any
+individual state, and very feebly in some; and therefore, when I say
+that the state is or does this or that, you may truly make the comment
+that _our_ state, or any other, is or does this in a very poor degree.
+And, lastly, I must point to what seems at first a curious fact. A state
+rests on, and, in a sense, only exists in, the minds and wills of its
+members, so that, if mind and will in all Frenchmen could suddenly
+vanish, the French state would do so too. And, further, the improvement
+of this state depends on the ideas of its members, and their will to
+make their ideas good. And yet what we call the ‘nature’ of the state
+does not depend on their thinking this or that, and if they think and
+will what conflicts with that nature they will not succeed. They will
+succeed only by developing further so much of that nature as is already
+developed in France or elsewhere. On the other hand, there can be no
+more fatal error than simply to identify the nature of the state with
+any development of it that has hitherto appeared. It only lives in
+realizing capacities still unfolded, and a state that does not advance
+goes back and, apart from any external violence, may even die.
+
+If now we ask what the state is, we may say that it is the nation
+considered as an organized whole or individual. You have some millions
+of people, inhabiting a definite piece or pieces of the earth, and, for
+the most part, so united by blood, language, customs, traditions, and
+history, that they have a special character and so can more fully
+understand and count on one another, and can live together more easily
+and happily, than any chance collection of human beings could. Further,
+they are not a mere collection or aggregate, but form an organized
+whole, performing a multitude of different functions, which should, and
+more or less do, so complement and play into one another that they make
+a common life and produce a common good—a good shared by the members in
+degrees necessarily different, though not, one hopes, of necessity so
+very different as they everywhere now are. Finally (for so far we have
+not, strictly speaking, a state) the common life, mind, or will
+expresses itself formally in laws binding on all the members, and in
+acts explicitly done on behalf of the whole and in its name. It is in
+these laws, and still more in these acts, that the whole appears most
+plainly as individual or a single agent, over against its members taken
+severally, and over against other states. Hence we often identify the
+state with the particular organ through which it acts in this way,
+asking, for example, indifferently whether the state, or whether
+government, ought to own the railways. And this usage, though it leads
+to confusion if we forget that the state is the whole, points to the
+fact that it does not act _as_ the state except through the organ called
+(in a wide sense) the government.
+
+Is the state then a moral agent? It can hardly be so with reference to
+other states, unless it is so with reference to itself; so that we may
+safely consider it at first as if it stood alone in the world.
+
+What is the end or object for which the state exists—its reason to be?
+Aristotle, after his manner, replied in two words, ‘Good life’. We may
+expand a little and say ‘The best possible life of its members’, or ‘The
+fullest possible development in them of the forces and faculties of man’
+(a Mazzinian formula), or ‘To make of human nature in them all that it
+has in it to become’ (which is more like Green’s language). These are
+various ways of expressing what is substantially the same idea. Suppose
+it true; then what has _morality_ to do with this end, the best life or
+the fullest realization of human capacities?
+
+Morality, or moral goodness, is, in the first place, a large part of
+this best life. To be self-controlled in regard to your desires and
+fears, to be just and generous and the like; to do your part as well as
+you can in the common life, in your functions, say, as a son, a
+neighbour, a friend, a carpenter, or a poet; and to do this, not merely
+because you happen to like it or because it pays you, but because it is
+right and good to do it:—something like this is to be morally good. And
+to be so is not a mere means to an end beyond it, but a great _part_ of
+the end, or best life, or realization of human nature.
+
+It is not, however, the whole. To discover or re-discover truth, for
+example, and to make or re-make beauty, are certainly elements in the
+best life; and truth and beauty are not morality, nor yet mere means to
+it; they have an intrinsic value of their own. Moral goodness,
+therefore, though a large part of the best life, is not the whole. No:
+but it is the condition, the _sine qua non_, of these other parts. To
+discover truth, for example, is not a mere matter of natural gifts—it
+requires will, and a moral will. The investigator must undergo fatigue,
+renounce many pleasant things, sacrifice his pre-conceived ideas and his
+secret wish to reach a particular conclusion; and all this is morality,
+whether in other respects he is moral or not. And these are only
+examples. The same thing holds good over the whole of life, wherever
+there is action, inward or outward.
+
+Thus it appears, first, that morality is a large part of the good life;
+and, secondly, that all those activities which in their special natures
+are not moral still fall within the moral sphere so far as will and
+character are concerned in them; and they cannot help being so
+concerned. But, if so, the end of the state, the best life, is a moral
+end, and the state a moral agent.
+
+I said I would ignore objections; but there is an objection to this view
+so obvious and so dangerous that I dare not pass it by. ‘If the state
+had a moral end,’ it may be said, ‘it would not merely protect the life
+and property of the citizen, and then leave him free to live well or ill
+at his pleasure: it would enforce morality, or at any rate promote it by
+rewards and punishments. But it neither does this, nor do most of us
+think that it ought.’ Now even in England the state does much more than
+this objection supposes; but, leaving that alone, we may answer thus.
+The state, though its end is moral, does not enforce morality because it
+cannot. It can enforce actions _outwardly_ the same as moral actions;
+but to force a man to do them morally, to do them not because he must
+but because he approves them or thinks them his duty, is beyond the
+power, not only of the state, but of the whole universe. Moral action,
+like immoral, is free action; and to talk of enforcing it is to talk of
+a square circle. And, in the second place, the reason why, on the whole,
+the state abstains, so far as possible, from enforcing or promoting
+actions outwardly like moral ones, is itself a moral reason. To force or
+bribe a man to do what he ought to do freely and morally, tends in some
+degree to interfere with his doing it freely and morally. The state
+cannot help taking this risk to some extent; for it must maintain the
+necessary pre-requisites of good life, e. g. security of life and
+property. But it limits its compulsive action, not in order that people
+may freely live as badly as they please, but in order that they may
+freely live as well as they can.[5]
+
+We have now reached the conclusion that, as regards itself or (it is the
+same thing) its members in their organic unity, the state is a moral
+agent. But is it one in the further sense that it has duties to other
+states, such duties that these other states have a moral right to their
+performance? Almost all of us, probably, will be disposed to answer Yes;
+yet, as soon as we begin to think about the question, we meet with facts
+and considerations that perplex us. Not three centuries ago a great
+philosopher could say that states are by nature enemies.[6] Bacon is
+often called our great English moralist; and Bacon, writing of the
+dealings of kings with their neighbours, tells us that only one general
+rule can be given in the matter, but ‘one that ever holdeth; which is,
+that Princes do keep due sentinel that none of their neighbours do
+overgrow so ... as they become more able to annoy them than they
+were’.[7] We may reassure ourselves by remembering that Bacon lived a
+long time ago and had studied Machiavelli to some purpose; yet we, in
+our own day, are not surprised if a subject of dispute between other
+nations is dismissed by our Government in the phrase, ‘It does not
+affect British interests’, a phrase which may _seem_ to imply that the
+duty of a state is simply and solely to itself. What it does imply, a
+moment’s thought will show us, is only that the state’s primary duty is
+that; and this inoffensive implication we may be ready to accept. And
+yet if a man saw two other men quarrelling in the street in a manner
+that threatened bloodshed, we should hardly think it moral in him to
+pass on with the remark, ‘It does not affect my interests’; we should
+think he ought at any rate to look for a policeman. This difficulty,
+again, we may remove by the just reflection that no policeman can be
+found for states, and in general that we cannot safely argue from the
+duties of a citizen to those of a nation. But then where will this
+reflection lead us? Citizens, perhaps we shall say, have duties to one
+another and to the state, and the state has duties to them, because they
+are members of this one community and share its one life, will, and
+good; but this moral community is the largest and highest that exists in
+the visible or actual world, what we call mankind being evidently not an
+organized whole but a mere scattered aggregate. Thus we may feel driven
+after all to conclude that the state is its own absolute end and has no
+duty except to itself. And if this conclusion still troubles us, we may
+consider that, at any rate, the state has a duty to itself in respect of
+its behaviour to other states; and we may even suspect that we are
+vexing ourselves with a mere question of words, since in any case a
+moral agent cannot have a duty to another which is not also a duty to
+itself.
+
+However this may be, we shall find it worth while to dwell for a minute
+on the idea that the state has duties only to itself. If this idea were
+fully carried out it would lead, I believe, to just the same result as
+the view that states have duties to each other. For, as we have seen,
+the end of the state, and therefore the state’s own ‘interest’,[8] is
+nothing short of the best possible life of its members. Its independence
+is necessary to that life; power is necessary to it; wealth is
+necessary; even high spirit and a certain pride may be so; and times may
+come when a resolute assertion of its rights even by war is necessary.
+But the best possible life, including, permanently or on occasion, all
+these things, is much wider than any or all of them. None of them has
+value apart from it. Those of them which, like wealth and power, exist
+only in this or that degree, are of value only in the degree in which
+they really contribute to the best life, and in that life the goods of
+the soul rank, in value, first. An action of the state, therefore, which
+increases its wealth or power to the detriment of the character of its
+citizens cannot be in its interest, but is, on the contrary, a violation
+of its duty to itself. And so is any breach of promise to another state,
+any intentional injury to another, or any war upon another, which is
+inconsistent with that best life of its own citizens which is their one
+and only absolute interest. Hence we may say that a state can do no
+wrong to another which is not equally, or even more, a wrong to itself;
+that, if it rightly understands its duty to itself, it need consider
+nothing else; and that patriotism, in the true and complete meaning of
+the word, is the final and all-inclusive virtue. And if this view of the
+matter could really become the inspiration of a nation’s life, it would
+certainly have great advantages. It would make the nation realize that,
+next to the primary duty of maintaining the pre-requisites of its life,
+its main business is not to improve others—least of all by conquest—but
+to improve itself; and that to be grasping, inconsiderate, irritable,
+and meddlesome is no part of the best life. Or imagine for a moment
+that, when peace returns to England, we could retain undiminished that
+sense of unity and that self-devotion which have been evoked by war, and
+could use them wisely in all their strength, if only for ten years, to
+make England, morally and socially, all that it might be. Why, it might
+become, for itself, almost what Shakespeare called it, a ‘second Eden’,
+and, for others, a light to lighten the nations.
+
+Thus the doctrine that a state has duties only to itself, if taken in
+its full sense, is far from being selfish or degrading. But then it is
+fatally easy to take it in its more obvious and its untrue sense; and we
+know too well how ideas, innocent and just in themselves, may be twisted
+into shapes that affront any unsophisticated conscience. Besides, this
+formula, even rightly construed, does not appear to suffice. To say that
+the so-called duty of a state to another is simply its duty to itself in
+respect of that other, would be satisfactory if that other were a tree
+or a lion; because my having a duty to another implies, in strictness,
+that this other has or may have a duty to me; and a tree or a lion, not
+being a rational agent, is incapable of duty, and, for the same reason,
+cannot be a member of a moral community. But the other state, like my
+own, is a rational being. The two have the same nature and the same end,
+the best possible life. That is common to them; and though it is by no
+means enough to make them members of an actual community in which the
+good of one is, in some degree, the good of another and of all, it
+surely is enough to give them, so far as they come in contact, and apart
+from obligations arising out of treaties between them, duties to one
+another and moral rights against one another. Indeed this seems to hold
+of all human beings, whether they belong to states or to lower forms of
+society. Slavery, for example, is now among civilized peoples
+universally admitted to be wrong, and states forbid their citizens to
+practise it. To whom then is it a wrong? To the enslaver himself, no
+doubt, but surely also to the slave. He—a negro, perhaps—is, like the
+enslaver, a rational being with a capacity for a best life. He proves it
+by his membership in a tribe, in which he has what, in effect, are
+rights and duties. His tribal morality differs from our civic morality;
+but what of that? It is enough to give him a claim against us to be left
+free to live as well as he can, and enough to make it our duty to him,
+if not to aid him, at least to leave him free.[9]
+
+The duties which, on this showing, all men have to one another may now
+be few and elementary; and this may be said even of the duties of states
+to one another (over and above the unquestionable obligations arising
+from their treaties). But these duties are bound to grow in number and
+complexity, and the day perhaps may come when ‘mankind’ or ‘humanity’
+will be no mere scattered aggregate, but an all-embracing organized
+community of members—if not states, still corporate bodies of some
+kind—united in pursuit of a common end, the best life of man. This life
+would be different in each body, a harmony, not a monotone; and the
+difference in each would be its special contribution to the whole. The
+members of each would still be more closely united with one another than
+with those of other bodies, and have duties to their own body that they
+had not to others; and these bodies, being human, could hardly fail
+sometimes to disagree. But none of them would dream of regarding itself
+as its sole or absolute end, and one may surely believe that they would
+not need to settle their differences by war. This community, at the
+best, must be far distant; but to keep it in view and, so far as
+possible, to feel and act as though it were already here, is, even in
+warring, to live inwardly in peace with your enemy, and, it may be, to
+lessen the distance by an hour or even a day.[10] And at least the
+pre-requisite of such a community—I mean the closer contact of
+mankind—is undeniably and rapidly being realized. Our own country makes
+itself a huge far-extending Empire. In the East Japan starts into sudden
+greatness. Africa is parcelled out among the states of Europe. The
+states of the world are bound together more and more by trade. There is
+another side, no doubt, to all these changes. In our Empire-making we
+did things we cannot justify, and the Empire made becomes an object of
+envy and a cause of war. The rise of Japan at once brings war in the
+East, and alarm and enmity in the Western hemisphere. The parcelling of
+Africa means the horrors of the Congo; and states bound together by
+trade fight one another with tariffs. Nevertheless these changes do
+visibly tend in one direction. Is it vain to hope that they move
+invisibly to one goal, moving there neither by accident nor mainly by
+the conscious purpose of men?
+
+Meanwhile already we have in Europe a number of states, connected by
+almost perpetual contact, sharing to some extent a single type of
+civilization and morality, yet possessed of such distinct characters,
+and developing this type in such individual forms, that each of them
+brings to the common stock a contribution which no other can bring and
+which it is essential to preserve. What further duties they have to one
+another beyond that contribution I cannot discuss: I have to dwell on a
+different point. That these duties may be more extensive and positive
+than they are now generally recognized to be, one can well imagine; but
+I find it difficult to imagine that the primary and main duty of a state
+to other states can cease to be the contribution of its own best life.
+Yet to many minds this appears a selfish view. Openly or unconsciously
+they seem to demand that states should behave to one another like good
+men, or even like friends, or even like brothers. And the flagrant
+contradiction between such demands and the actual behaviour of states
+causes not only painful disappointment but an injurious dismay. Yet what
+is in fault here, perhaps, is not only, or even mainly, the behaviour of
+states, but something unreasonable in the demand.
+
+I have not read General Bernhardi’s book since it first appeared, but I
+understand he says in it that the morality of a state cannot be the same
+as that of an individual. This assertion, if one may judge from a poem
+by Mr. Noyes and an article in one of our best weekly papers, is
+considered almost diabolical; and very likely the author draws from it
+false and immoral conclusions—one would expect him to. But surely the
+statement itself is perfectly sound. All moralities, of course, are the
+same, in the sense that they _are_ morality, or a doing of duty: but
+what acts in particular are the duties of a moral agent must depend on
+the nature of the agent and the position he occupies. The duty of my
+brother to help me, if need be, with his money, or to tell me that I am
+disgracing the family, does not therefore belong to every one here
+present. It may be of use to point out some differences between a state
+and an individual, which prevent them from having the same duties and
+even account for their sometimes doing what two reasonable men,
+practically speaking, never do—fighting one another.
+
+If A and B, two reasonable Englishmen, cannot agree in interpreting
+their contract, they do not fall to blows, they go to arbitration or a
+court of law. If A vilifies B, the latter, if he thinks it of
+importance, can take A into court. If A tries to pick B’s pocket or
+assaults him, B may indeed use such force as is immediately necessary to
+protect his person or property, but no more; it is the business of the
+law to protect him and to punish A. This power, the law, has three
+obvious characteristics. It purports to be, and in a good state is, the
+expression of that reason and right will which is common to A and B, as
+distinguished from their personal feelings and passions. It is perfectly
+impartial in regard to A and B. And, lastly, it is a power, against
+which they are powerless. Whatever they may think of its decision, it
+will enforce it.
+
+But if A and B are states, how do they stand? If they differ in
+interpreting their treaty, or in fixing what sum A should pay to B for
+an unintentional injury, they, like citizens, can go, in one way or
+another, to arbitration. The arbiter, it is true, has no power to
+enforce his decision, but that need not matter much, since A and B would
+hardly have gone to him if they did not mean to abide by it. This,
+however, is a narrow field. When the question concerns an assault of A
+on B, or what they call their vital interests or even their honour
+(which is not merely their private feeling but their repute and weight
+in the world), where will they find an embodied reason with its perfect
+impartiality? Seldom, if ever, in other states, either severally or
+combined, when each of these others has its likes and dislikes to A and
+B, and vital interests of its own, connected positively or negatively
+with theirs. And even if this problem were surmounted and the impartial
+arbiter found, his decision, so far from having overwhelming force
+behind it, has or may have none at all except that of public opinion. Of
+course it does not follow that B’s duty must be war, but it does follow
+that you cannot find his duty by examining the duties of an individual.
+
+Take a second difference. You, an individual citizen, have interests in
+a special sense your own. But you may well think it your duty to injure
+some of them; to be poor when you might be well off; to leave many of
+your capacities undeveloped that you may do good through the
+disproportionate growth of one or two; even to weaken your health and
+shorten your life for some worthy object; nay, if need be, to risk it or
+throw it away for the life of another. Asked to justify your conduct,
+you might answer perhaps that your life is but one of forty million
+English lives, that what you lose others gain, and that there are plenty
+to take your place. But England, your state, _is_ forty million lives.
+For it to surrender _its_ interest, to make itself poor, weak, or
+maimed, is to do that to forty millions, many of them children. How then
+can it have the same duty that you have; and how can its normal primary
+duty help being its duty to itself? Nor is this all. It, your country,
+is not merely these forty millions, any more than an oak is the leaves
+of this year. Your country’s span of life is not a little threescore
+years and ten. Its honour is the honour of its countless dead, and both
+its honour and its welfare are those of its innumerable sons and
+daughters yet to be. How can it, the state of this year, a mere trustee,
+have the same right and duty to sacrifice that welfare that you have to
+sacrifice yours? And even this, again, is not all. You can sacrifice
+yours, for you are but one of forty millions. But how many states are
+there in the world? Not a hundred, I imagine.[11] And, out of these, how
+many whose value to mankind is equal to the value of your state? Let us
+be modest and say ‘six’. Well, but if your country had only a hundred
+inhabitants, and only six of them were as useful as you, your right and
+duty to injure or risk your life would undergo a prodigious change. I do
+not say it would vanish, nor that a state cannot have such a duty; but
+the question whether such a duty has arisen cannot be settled by
+comparison with the duties of a citizen.
+
+I trust I have not seemed to be championing either national
+selfishness[12] or war. No one can be more convinced that it is
+sometimes the duty of a state to forgo an advantage, to run a risk, and
+even to injure itself in some degree, in order to help another actively
+or allow another to develop itself, if (I must add) it is satisfied that
+this is to the advantage of mankind. And, as to war, I should like to
+say briefly how I regard it (which it would be absurd to do if I thought
+this view a merely personal one). Certainly I believe that a war may be
+right and therefore a duty; and I do not see how to maintain that an
+offensive war can _never_ be so. Nor could I for a moment admit—what is
+often taken for granted—that peace is an unconditional good. Nothing is
+so except the best possible life; and peace, though it is the normal
+foundation of that, is no more. Hence, when I ask myself whether I wish
+for the total disappearance of war, I answer ‘Yes, if, or when,
+uninterrupted peace can perform the office and generate the good of
+war’. There are wars almost entirely evil; but war, on the whole, may
+roughly be compared with tragedy—I mean the tragic actions and
+sufferings portrayed by great poets. If things had to be classed roughly
+as good and evil, war and tragedy would be placed among the evils. But
+if the disappearance of either meant the disappearance, or even a
+lowering, of those noble and glorious energies of the soul which appear
+in both and are in part the cause of both, the life of perpetual peace
+would be a poor thing, superficially less terrible perhaps than the
+present life, but much less great and good. Nor, if I may say so, do I
+understand how this view can seem heathenish to any one who believes
+that suffering, and even wrong, have some meaning in the world.
+
+But those who think thus about war are not therefore champions of war.
+They may believe that it does lie in man’s power slowly by degrees to
+gain in peace all the good of war; that it is monstrous to call war an
+end in itself, or even, if we speak strictly, one of the purposes of the
+state; that many wars, perhaps most, have been, so far as we can see,
+needless and therefore, in their origin, wholly wrong; and that the
+diminution of war is assuredly to be desired and pursued. And so I
+hasten to a few remarks on the second subject of the lecture.
+
+
+This subject is not the conditions of the peace to which we are looking
+forward—no safe matter for public discussion even by persons more
+competent than I. And, further, the proposals, or rather the one
+proposal of which there is time to speak, belong—in my view at least—to
+a future more or less distant, and in any case subsequent to the period
+when, as we trust, the feelings produced by this war will be dying away.
+For we surely cannot imagine that any ambitious scheme can work unless
+it has behind it positive goodwill as well as a desire to avoid the
+evils of war.
+
+Let us assume, and so dismiss, as a thing which seems clearly coming to
+be in principle admitted, the duty of states to observe international
+law,[13] and to refer to arbitration in some form such matters as may
+safely be so referred; and I will merely remind the despondent that the
+progress towards that admission during the last fifty or even twenty
+years has been nothing less than immense. Even in this matter, no doubt,
+much remains to be done; but what is desired is much more than this. It
+is an arrangement or institution likely to diminish the chances of war
+about the more difficult and dangerous questions: for example the
+question, not of the complicity of Serbian officials in the murder of
+the Archduke, but whether Serbia was pursuing a policy, or encouraging a
+movement, aimed at the integrity of Austria-Hungary; a question which, I
+imagine, neither state would have cared to submit to a court unless it
+had been pretty sure what the decision would be. And, if we recall the
+differences pointed out between an individual and a state, it seems
+clear that what is wanted is something like that state-law which stands
+above individuals, something which, at its best, is an embodiment of
+reason, perfectly impartial, and possessed of overwhelming force.
+
+The idea of a United States, or Confederation, of Europe has been mooted
+for some centuries.[14] Kant took it up a hundred and twenty years ago,
+and drew the outline of a scheme in his essay on _Perpetual Peace_. It
+was a favourite idea with Mazzini. And it is now coming into the
+foreground in various shapes, of which the following is perhaps the most
+definite. The states of Europe, by federation or without it, would form
+a permanent council to decide all international differences, arbitrable
+or other, and, if necessary, to carry out the decision through an armed
+force, to which in some agreed way their several armies would
+contribute. But, considering the overwhelming power of the Union as
+compared with that of a recalcitrant state, this necessity, it is
+thought, would never, or at any rate very rarely, arise.
+
+Just because this idea is so attractive and appears so hopeful, I
+propose to pass by its obvious advantages and to touch on some of its
+difficulties and dangers; but I must first mention a variation in the
+scheme, due to a sense of one of these dangers. Seeley, soon after the
+Franco-German War (_Macmillan’s Magazine_, March, 1871), considered the
+United States idea, with results which may be thus condensed. (1) The
+Union must be a federation, and a close one, as close as that of the
+United States of America. (2) No state must possess an armed force of
+its own: the only army would be that of the Federation. (3) Existing
+states would never consent to this provision; but a long and unremitting
+propaganda among all the populations (for it is to _them_ that peace is
+all-important) might quite possibly compel their governments to adopt
+the scheme. ‘Possibly’, I say to myself, ‘it might, but nothing else
+would; and if the populations ever acquired so unanimous and resolute a
+will for peace, surely the need of a Union would have disappeared, and,
+with states remaining as separate as they are now, the chances of war
+would be as much diminished as they can be.’ Therefore, without
+discussing the feasibility of Seeley’s plan, or its desirability (which
+is far from indubitable), I go on to some remarks on the unmodified
+scheme.
+
+1. Since the Union would deal with all disputes, and not only with what
+may be called legal ones, could all its states have equal voices in the
+council? Where vital interests are concerned, can one ask or expect that
+a fifty-million state should have no more votes than a five-million one?
+Surely not. In any case, whatever the voting-arrangements of the council
+might be, it seems wellnigh certain that these disputes would in effect
+be settled, I do not say in the interest of the Great Powers, but by
+them.
+
+2. When a decree unfavourable to a powerful state (or more than one) was
+felt by it to touch deeply its honour or interests, there would always
+be danger of its trying to elude the requirements laid on it, and an
+equal danger that other states would shut their eyes to this attempt
+rather than enforce the decree at the cost of all the evils of war. It
+is vain to imagine that states would constantly put their duty to Europe
+in front of their duty to their own people.
+
+3. There would always be danger of secret combinations of individual
+states in pursuit of what they thought their common interests over
+against the interests of the rest; a danger therefore that things would
+either drift back to their present position or else lead to civil war in
+the Union. Some people appear to have forgotten that there was ever
+civil war in the American Union; but ugly facts do not vanish by being
+ignored, and we have to remember too that the European Union would
+consist of states differing in race or nationality far more than the
+American states.
+
+4. Europe is not the world. There is, for example, a western hemisphere.
+Would the American Union be willing to join the European, and so to
+entangle itself in our disputes? And, if it were, would many European
+states care to give it the chance? Scarcely, unless it became what some
+writers apparently imagine it to be already, an eminently peace-loving,
+self-sacrificing, and scrupulous Power.
+
+Let us suppose, then, that it stayed outside. In that case, war between
+it and one or more of the European states would not, presumably, be held
+to involve the rest. And yet the success of the European Union would
+depend a good deal on the growth of a special European feeling which
+does not now exist; and, just as the growth of national feeling has
+brought great dangers with it, so, though doubtless in smaller measure,
+would the growth of that European feeling. And in the West, we must
+remember, we have not only the United States but the Monroe doctrine.
+The possibility I am pointing to is a frightful one, and, some will say,
+too frightful to be realized. And so they said, a year ago, of a
+possibility which at this moment is an appalling fact.
+
+It should be needless to refer to similar risks arising from the
+greatness of Japan, a possible revival of China, the facts that Russia
+extends into Asia and that the other great European Powers have colonies
+or dependencies outside Europe. When the idea of a European Union was
+first broached, the dangers of which I have lately been speaking were
+not yet in sight.
+
+5. There is still another, and a very grave one. History is a continual
+change, and, as we all hope and some of us believe, the change is, in
+the main, a progress. But is it not probable, to say the least, that to
+a European Union the easiest and the most tempting course would
+generally be to discourage change and maintain the _status quo_? And if
+its first or chief object were peace, would it not seem right in doing
+this? Yet if such a Union had been formed a century ago, and had not
+soon been broken by the secession of England and France, would it not
+certainly have discouraged and even resisted most of the changes that we
+now think good—changes, let us remember, made largely by insurrection
+and war? We know what the Holy Alliance actually did and wanted to do.
+Well, we may feel fairly secure that the European Union would not
+resemble it in supporting mere ‘legitimacy’, but can we feel secure
+that, in the very interest of law and peace, it would never ‘haply be
+found fighting against God’; or, if that phrase is objected to, let us
+say ‘fighting against changes that are necessary for the progress of
+mankind’?[15]
+
+The difficulties and dangers now mentioned (and there may well be
+others) are formidable. To meet and surmount them would tax, no doubt,
+the foresight and skill of statesmen, and the goodwill of populations
+which cannot be expected to have foresight and skill. But they do not
+appear to be more than dangers and difficulties, nor does the ideal of a
+United States (not necessarily a federation) seem to conflict with
+anything fundamental in the nature of the state; while both the course
+of history and the minds of men do seem to have been moving for some
+time in this direction. On the other hand, as has been suggested
+already, any attempt to realize that ideal in the immediate future would
+almost certainly be vain and, if vain, highly dangerous; and there are
+reasons not yet mentioned for fearing that the time when it could
+succeed must be distant. Must we not accept what Mazzini used to say of
+such an ideal—that it could not be made real until two pre-requisites
+had been attained?[16]
+
+The map of Europe must first be re-drawn, he said, so that the divisions
+of states correspond with those of nationality. A deliverance like this
+must be taken somewhat loosely. It did not mean for Mazzini that the
+Union of England, Scotland, Wales, and Ireland must be dissolved, or
+that the German Empire must cease to exist; and we are told that there
+are ethnical unities in the south-east of Europe which are
+geographically so distributed that they could not form single states.
+But, any really necessary qualification being admitted, the general
+statement appears sound. The sentiment of nationality has unquestionably
+been one of the chief causes of unrest and war in Europe ever since the
+Powers established in 1815 a system based on legitimacy. And this
+sentiment, which is not a sentiment but a passion and almost a religious
+faith, shows not the slightest sign of dying away. It has wellnigh
+destroyed the Turkish Empire in Europe, in Mazzini’s view one of the two
+main obstacles to progress. The other was the Austrian Empire; and the
+working of that same passion in Serbia may have initiated the
+dissolution of that Empire too.
+
+According to Mazzini, the second pre-requisite of a United States was
+that all the states concerned should have become democratic. Kant, using
+another terminology, had said the same thing. What is in question here
+is, surely, not chiefly the ‘democratization’ of foreign policy and
+diplomacy, about which much nonsense is being written just now, and some
+good sense.[17] When we call a state democratic, and when we use the
+word in a strictly political sense, we mean, roughly speaking, that it
+has a very large electorate, and that the power which acts for the state
+really represents, and is responsible to, this electorate. And, though
+we may feel less confident than Mazzini was, that democracies would
+always be friendly and never more pugnacious than nobles or kings, most
+of us perhaps will agree that the prospects of peace will not be greatly
+improved so long as the power to make war rests, openly or otherwise,
+either with an autocrat, wise and good or foolish and ill-willed, as
+chance may determine, or with representatives of sectional interests,
+social, military, bureaucratic, or financial, all of which, though in
+varying degrees, are separable from national interests and provide
+motives for unnecessary wars. Only it must be remembered that a state is
+not democratic merely because its government fairly represents the
+nation. In this war, for example, the German Government appears to
+represent the German people as fully as our Government does ours. Yet
+Germany is in no sense democratic, and England, politically, is.[18]
+
+
+This brings me to a last word. Perhaps some of my hearers, listening to
+the earlier part of this lecture, may have said to themselves: ‘Why this
+theorizing about the nature of the state and its exalted mission? It is
+just what has brought the Germans to worship force and to glorify to
+themselves their desire for domination.’ This particular charge against
+German philosophy is in the fashion, and, although a proper discussion
+of it is out of the question here, I should like to refer to it.
+
+Even if it had much truth, we English are not Germans, and intoxication
+by ideas is not exactly a failing of the English—nor even of the Scotch,
+who do reverence intellect. But the truth in this charge is not great.
+What has led, apparently, a large number of Germans to the strange,
+perverted state of mind we witness, is surely not, in the main, ideas,
+philosophical or other, but first and foremost what has happened to
+Germany. After being for long years, even for centuries, a ‘Hamlet among
+the nations’; great, that is to say, in the purely spiritual spheres of
+religion, philosophy, music, poetry, but, to all appearance, incapable
+in the world of political action, she found herself on a sudden,
+five-and-forty years ago, the most powerful state in Europe. She owed
+this, too, in the main, not to a long and arduous effort of her peoples
+(for that would have had a different effect), but to a merely military
+force enlarged and perfected by the unconstitutional action of a
+statesman and a king. And on the success of this military force and of a
+Machiavellian diplomacy in creating the Empire there followed (what also
+was to a large extent new) an immense increase in industrial and
+commercial activity, in wealth, and in population. It would be no great
+wonder, I think, if any people’s head were turned by such a change.
+
+Next to this chief cause comes the fact (as, on the testimony of others,
+I suppose it to be) that the views and feelings thus generated
+concerning the greatness and the future of Germany have been for years
+assiduously fostered in the people through an admirably efficient system
+of university and school education.[19]
+
+Now what has philosophy had to do with the ideas so instilled, and with
+other ideas that have gone to produce a perverted ideal and state of
+mind? Something, no doubt, but of that something very little belongs to
+the great philosophers. A leading German historian, I am told,
+criticizes Plato and Aristotle because they say almost nothing about the
+state’s being essentially _might_. Perhaps they thought this undeniable
+fact too obvious to need emphasis; but in any case the same criticism
+might be passed on Kant and Hegel. It is true that in Hegel’s
+_Rechtsphilosophie_ there are a few expressions which, taken in
+isolation and exaggerated as a philosopher’s ideas are apt to be, might
+do harm; but in all its pages, while there is much about will and the
+will for good, there is little enough about force.[20] Germany’s
+greatest philosopher since Hegel, I suppose, is Lotze, a teacher about
+as likely as Mill or Green to encourage the worship of force. Indeed, so
+far as I know, the only philosopher who is, in a degree worth notice,
+responsible for that worship is Nietzsche, who was neither an admirer of
+the Prussian state nor by any means a great philosopher. He was,
+however, a man of genius, with a poetic imagination and an admirable
+style; and in Germany that is a thing rarer than a philosopher and, to
+the mass of readers, much more dangerous. If he could have written as
+Kant wrote he would scarcely have done much mischief. Nobody could bear
+to read Kant who was not bent on finding truth, but truth is not the
+quarry that Nietzsche’s thousands of readers hunt.
+
+If Germany were doomed to win this war, she might continue—for how long,
+we cannot tell—to be the victim of a perverse ideal. But any Englishman
+who reveres and loves that soul of her which speaks in her music,
+philosophy, and poetry, must desire her total defeat for her own sake as
+well as for his country’s and the world’s. It is incredible that that
+soul is dead, and that anguish would not wake it from its evil dream.
+
+
+
+
+ IV
+ THE CHANGING MIND OF A NATION AT WAR
+
+ BY L. P. JACKS
+
+
+I owe you a word of explanation for the seeming audacity displayed in
+the title of my lecture. What right have I, what right has any one, to
+speak for the mind of the nation? Surely the most that one can do is to
+describe the changes of his own mind. The mind of the nation is beyond
+him.
+
+I do not believe this. There is one mind in all of us at the present
+moment—and it is the mind of the nation. The mind of the nation has
+become, to a greater degree than ever before, the mind of the individual
+citizen. That is the greatest of all the changes which have taken place
+since the war began. The national mind is no longer a mere theme for
+speculation. It has entered, in some measure, into every one of us. It
+has become an active principle of our consciousness. It has brought
+great thoughts and great resolutions to multitudes. It has both
+amplified and simplified our lives. It has wakened powers that
+slumbered; it has revived great memories that were half forgotten; it
+has linked us together and made us one.
+
+Under these circumstances there is no audacity in speaking of the mind
+of the nation. The distinction between our own thoughts and the nation’s
+thoughts is being obliterated. Ask the first honest man you meet to tell
+you what he is thinking, and if he answers faithfully, he will tell you
+something of what the nation is thinking.
+
+
+ I
+
+Never, in my memory, has intercourse with thoughtful men been as
+suggestive and stimulating as it has been since the war broke out. It is
+hardly possible, to-day, to enter into conversation with an educated
+person without noting the emergence of some new point of view. Under the
+strain and pressure of the time mens’ minds are yielding ideas and
+making discoveries. There is in consequence a certain vividness in the
+intellectual life of the country which relieves, to some extent, the
+moral distress. In the presence of danger our intelligence, our
+imagination, our will, are unusually wide awake. We begin to perceive
+the limits of accepted forms of thought, the inadequacy of the standards
+by which we have been accustomed to pass judgement on life and on
+history, and the partial nature of truths we had regarded as final and
+complete. A great disturbance, like that of an earthquake, is passing
+beneath our life, and the elements of that life are rearranging
+themselves in new perspectives. We are virtually living in another world
+compared with that in which we were alive eight months ago.
+
+The world before the war was comparatively _safe_; the world of to-day
+is _threatened_. Eight months ago we looked out into a future which
+seemed assured. We were laying out plans, buying, selling, building,
+marrying and giving in marriage, like the men of old before the Lord
+rained fire on Sodom and Gomorrah. Our sons were growing up and we were
+arranging their peaceful careers. To-day our sons are in arms, and under
+orders for the front, and as they gather round us for the parting feast,
+we thank God that we cannot raise the veil of the future. Our most
+intimate ties are threatened with possibilities of which we dare not
+think. Thus at the very centre of our life the earthquake begins, and it
+runs outward until every idea, every habit of mind, every interest,
+every conviction, has received some share of the shock. But the shock,
+far from paralysing the nation’s mind, serves rather to liberate its
+reserves of intellectual vitality. The new world in which we find
+ourselves is not terrible only; it is full of challenge to our thinking
+faculties. It provides a daily stimulus to spiritual curiosity. Thus the
+intercourse of thoughtful men grows more vivid, and it becomes easy to
+understand how, from conditions like these, new births of the soul have
+come to nations; times of danger and calamity being often followed by
+times of creativeness in all the arts of life.
+
+Ladies and gentlemen, are we not all _thinking more_ than we did before
+the war began—thinking more deeply, more earnestly, more constantly?
+There is a new thoughtfulness in the air which is raising the level of
+intelligence in all classes of the community. The matters we are
+thinking about are big and terrible and splendid, all at the same time.
+We are asking questions which it is an education to ask, even though for
+the time being we cannot answer them. Because the questions are great
+questions they are giving us a juster sense of proportion. We are
+thinking a little more about our duties and a little less about our
+rights. ‘Business’ still goes on; but not quite as usual, for something
+more important than business is in our minds. We are measuring ourselves
+by higher standards. The heroism of the forces, the daily spectacle of
+our young men going to the war, reminds us of ethical truths we had half
+forgotten. Great questions about society and civilization are
+challenging our minds and compelling us to look at them from new angles
+of vision. It is good for us to be ‘brought up sharp’ by these things.
+Still better, that we should be forced to think of them not as mere
+academic questions, but as questions of life and death. And best of all,
+when the whole people is forced to think about them _at the same time_.
+We are coming _together_ into the presence of these problems. That makes
+an enormous difference. One reason why the great concerns of life are
+not better cared for is that in normal times the interest taken in them
+is piecemeal. You think of them to-day and I think of them to-morrow,
+with the result that I am hot while you are cold, and I am critical
+while you are enthusiastic. But the new thoughtfulness is not of that
+broken, interrupted kind. It is simultaneous and widespread. We are all
+in it at once. You remember what Emerson says about the strange things
+that may happen when God lets loose a thinker on this planet. But this
+time a thinking community has been let loose. Momentous results are
+bound to follow.
+
+I am inclined to believe that the mind of the nation was never in a more
+hopeful frame. I cannot go to the length of a writer in one of the daily
+papers who says that England was never so happy. The tragedy is too deep
+for that. But I do think that England was never so promising. What will
+come from her awakened thoughtfulness no man can predict. But if it
+should turn out to be better than the best we have ever hoped for, there
+would be no cause for surprise.
+
+
+ II
+
+And here we come to a strange and paradoxical thing. One of the first
+effects of this awakened intelligence is to raise a doubt as to whether
+the minds of nations are as intelligent as we thought them to be. For a
+long time past a kind of humanism has been current which took the form
+of an enthusiastic faith in the ‘march of mind’. Appearances seemed to
+warrant the belief that men, organized in modern societies, were
+becoming far more reasonable than their fathers. But look at this war!
+What comment does it suggest on the ‘march of mind’? Think not of this
+nation or of that, dismiss the question of whose diplomacy was right or
+wrong, and view the war as though it were, what indeed it is, a single
+action performed by civilization. What is our impression? Do we feel
+ourselves in presence of some masterpiece of wisdom? Speaking for
+myself, I can only say that the war, viewed as a single action, appears
+to be the kind of action that could only be performed by a fool. I
+cannot get away from the feeling that I am in the presence of some
+colossal stupidity. Since history began to record the deeds of men, has
+there ever been seen such an exhibition of limited intelligence? Who in
+his sane senses would do such a thing?
+
+Just think what has happened. For generations past the general level of
+intelligence in Western Europe has been rising. The individual is better
+educated. Millions of these better educated individuals are combined
+into societies more or less democratic. But what has become of this vast
+aggregate of intelligence? Has it all gone into the common stock? Is it
+all employed for the common good? Does the intelligence of every citizen
+reinforce the intelligence of every other citizen, so that States become
+endowed with the sum total of all the wisdom in all of their members?
+Apparently not. Most of this intelligence seems to be wasted away in
+mutual criticism, in the war of minds, before the State can get
+possession of what remains. Does it not seem as though there were some
+process of inner opposition at work by which a multitude of minds will
+often neutralize each other’s intelligence; so that States, instead of
+being wiser than individuals, often perpetrate follies of which the
+least intelligent of their members would be heartily ashamed?
+
+I am inclined to think, therefore, that we shall emerge from the war
+with a chastened confidence in the mere ‘march of mind’. We shall think
+more, we are already thinking more, of those other qualities, such as
+the plain sense of right and wrong, with which the march of mind needs
+to be blended before it can do its work. Many disillusions of this kind
+are on the way. There is a feeling abroad which is not quite articulate
+as yet, that the war has somehow brought us into contact with Reality,
+and that our ideas must be modified accordingly. ‘We are up against the
+real thing’ is a phrase you must often have heard. It is frequently used
+in soldiers’ letters written from the front; I have encountered it in
+sermons, political speeches, and newspaper articles, in conversations
+with working men; and in the comments of distinguished philosophers.
+
+Now I will not attempt to define what the ‘real thing’ is. I am not
+quite sure that I know. But I think I can point out one of its
+characteristics. The ‘real thing’ as we are now feeling its presence is
+not a mere subject for _study_: it is something we have to _obey_. It is
+a command, a summons, a trumpet note. In ordinary times Reality shows us
+its _interesting_ side. Just now it is showing its _imperative_ side. In
+ordinary times we talk about it. Just now it is talking to us. I can
+almost imagine that Reality is paying off an old score it had against
+us. We had been writing philosophical essays about it, treating it as
+‘our subject’, as though we had it in the hollow of our hand; and
+perhaps Reality was getting a little tired of hearing itself defined and
+discussed. Anyhow the real thing is no longer passive. It has become
+intensely active. It has given us a shock, it has roused us to our duty
+and put a constraint upon our wills. The consequence is that a good deal
+of nonsense is being knocked out of us. Let us hope it will not return!
+We were much too comfortable, much too complacent, much too selfish,
+before the war. And we were hardly prepared for so sudden a change of
+behaviour on the part of the real thing.
+
+
+ III
+
+One effect of this shock has been to change our attitude towards the
+State, and to make us think differently of the rights and duties of the
+State.
+
+For many years past, there had been a tendency among us to look to the
+State as an omnipotent power whose function and duty were to gratify our
+desires and do our bidding. Whatever we wanted, better trade, higher
+wages, easier conditions of life, schoolrooms, playgrounds, libraries,
+art galleries, food for our children, provision for our old age—and so
+on through an endless list—whatever it was, we exploited the State. And
+the State, like an indulgent mother, gave in to us all round. Now this
+one had his turn, and now that; and there was a good deal of quarrelling
+among us as to whose turn came next. There seemed no limit to what the
+State could do for us, and no limit either to what we had the right to
+demand. It was a demoralizing business—demoralizing to us who got our
+way, demoralizing to the State which gave us our way. But it went on
+merrily and the wildest expectations were abroad of vast favours yet to
+come. A few more teasings, a few more pistols held at the head of the
+State, and a ‘scheme’ would be forthcoming which would render us all
+happy and good in spite of ourselves.
+
+Then, one fine morning last August, there came a rude awakening. We got
+a message from the State couched in language we had never heard before.
+‘I require you,’ said the State, ‘to place your property and your lives
+at my service. Now and for some time to come, I give nothing but ask
+everything. Arm yourselves for my defence. Give me your sons and be
+willing that they should die for me. Repay what you owe me. _My_ turn
+has come.’
+
+That is how the Real Thing talks to men when it uses the State as its
+mouthpiece. Considering how strange and unaccustomed the language was, I
+think the response the nation made was to its credit. No sooner did the
+State turn its imperative side towards us than an instant peace fell
+upon our warring factions. We had all been waiting for that word of
+command to make us one—waiting but not knowing what we waited for. Our
+demands on the State had been for different things: the State’s demand
+on us was for the same thing—for uttermost self-sacrifice. It brought us
+together as nothing else could have done. This was the first result of
+our contact with the Real Thing.
+
+
+ IV
+
+This awakening of a sense of duty to the State is leading to a more
+thorough understanding of the particular State to which we happen to
+belong—I mean of course the British Empire. This is another and a very
+promising change in the national mind. During the last few months a new
+vision has come to many of us of what the British Empire really is.
+
+Speaking of Britons in general, I am afraid it must be confessed that
+our knowledge of the Empire, our grasp of its significance, have been
+inadequate to the immense human issues, and to the corresponding
+responsibilities, which the Empire involves. We have been proud of this
+vast heritage, we have complacently enjoyed the advantages which come to
+all of us from its possession, we have talked vaguely and largely about
+imperialism, but we have hardly taken our imperial duties to heart. Some
+of us may have done so, but not the nation as a whole. To the majority
+of the electorate the Empire has been a side issue, or a thing that
+might be left to look after itself. It seemed too big and too broadly
+based to be in danger of disturbance. Few of us gave much thought to it;
+few of us allowed our imaginations to play round its meaning; still
+fewer took the trouble to study its history. Had we done so we should
+have realized, as I am afraid not many did realize, that a day would
+dawn when our right to possess this Empire would be put to the proof,
+when we should be challenged before the world to show that our
+intelligence and our valour were equal to the vast imperial enterprise
+on which we had engaged.
+
+But let us not forget that the British Empire, in its present extent and
+organization, is a comparatively recent phenomenon. In size, in wealth,
+in the civilization of its component parts and their close relations
+with one another, its characteristics are so different from what they
+were a century ago that we can draw no parallel with the Napoleonic era.
+And now, for the first time in its history, this Greater Britain is
+being attacked—and attacked with unexampled vehemence and resolution. It
+is a new experience, and like all new experiences it is compelling a
+readjustment of thought.
+
+This is a war of the Empire, by the Empire, for the Empire—and by the
+Empire I mean all for which the Empire stands, its ideals as well as its
+actualities. The Colonies and India are fighting for us and we are
+fighting for them. Our fellow subjects in India are represented by a
+great army of fine warriors, who have helped to check the would-be
+invaders of our shores. Gurkhas, Sikhs, and Pathans have shed their
+blood that London might be safe. Mohammedan, Hindu, and Christian have
+fallen side by side in defence of the liberties of our race. This, I
+say, is a new thing in our history. We feel a deepened intimacy with
+these widely sundered races; the dominions over the seas seem no further
+off than the next county. The Germans predicted that the outbreak of war
+would split the Empire into fragments. It has given the Empire a
+splendid solidarity such as it never before possessed. It has made us a
+greater nation, not in the sense that it has added to our dominions, but
+in the deeper sense that it has caused our political consciousness to
+dilate to the imperial scale. The political organization of the Empire
+is acquiring a corporate mind, just as the mother country after the
+defeat of the Spanish Armada awoke to a new consciousness of her
+national individuality and began to know herself for what she was.
+
+The parallel is profoundly interesting. It took the English people many
+centuries to discover their own country. The English in the reign of
+Henry VIII had a vaguer notion of England than we have of Canada (very
+few had seen a map of England); of Scotland than we have of Ceylon; of
+Ireland than we have of Central Africa. But just as these vague
+conceptions gave place in course of time to vision and realization and
+patriotic love for England, so now we British are beginning to think of
+the Empire as something more than a confused extension of our national
+boundaries, or as a group of appendages to our national home. The Empire
+is becoming _our country_, an inheritance of which we have to prove
+ourselves worthy, and we are becoming its citizens in heart as well as
+in name. Not that the change is already complete or even very far
+advanced. But no close observer of present tendencies will doubt that
+the movement of the national mind is in the direction of which I speak.
+Our imperial soul is beginning to germinate. If the change continues its
+ethical and spiritual consequences will be very great.
+
+
+ V
+
+In connexion with this extension of our national consciousness one may
+note at the present time some curious questionings among thoughtful men
+as to the bearing of democratic theory on our imperial obligations. We
+call ourselves a democracy; but there are moments, even in the course of
+dealing with domestic problems, when we find it hard to reconcile the
+facts with the theory. And the difficulty becomes greater in proportion
+as we extend our thoughts to the imperial scale. According to the
+democratic theory the people are to be consulted as to all that concerns
+their interests. Well, there is nothing that concerns our interests
+quite so deeply as the existence of the Empire. But when has the people
+been consulted in the matter? Proud as the British may be of possessing
+an empire on which the sun never sets, it is certain that the people as
+a whole have never been asked whether they wished to possess such an
+empire or not. They have never been asked how large they wished the
+Empire to be; or whether they would or would not be content with
+something less or greater. In an age when all things political are
+supposed to be determined by voting it is a curious circumstance that
+this, the greatest of political questions, has never been voted on at
+all. Nay more. So far as I know, the British people have never said to
+themselves, as the Germans have recently been saying, ‘Go to, now;
+world-dominion shall be ours.’ It would tax the historian to fix the
+period when the design for a world-wide empire became a definite
+ambition of the British people. True, there have been statesmen like the
+late Lord Beaconsfield, or Lord Chatham in an earlier age, who made
+plans for increasing the dominions of the Crown. But the popular will
+did not originate these designs, much as it may have applauded them when
+they had been carried out—though even this has not always been the case.
+Moreover, the control exercised even by statesmen over the process of
+imperial expansion has been of a distinctly piecemeal character. As one
+annexation followed another none of our ministers has foreseen where the
+process would end. None of them has had a vision in advance of the
+Empire as it exists to-day—in extent, in population, and in wealth. As
+Seeley long ago pointed out, we have conquered half the world in a fit
+of absence of mind. Indeed it would be extremely hard to fix
+responsibility for the existence of the Empire, in its present
+character, on any group or series of statesmen, or on any particular
+generation of Britons—to say nothing of individual men. A province here,
+a frontier there, an island somewhere else might be correctly set down
+to an assignable wave of public opinion or to the diplomacy of a
+particular minister. But the total growth seems to have escaped from
+human control altogether. Certainly nothing would be more untrue than to
+treat the existence of the Empire as though it corresponded to the
+expressed will of the living generation. We have not _willed_ it into
+being. We have found it there—like so many of the financial
+obligations—e.g. the National Debt—which have been inherited from the
+past, and have to be accepted whether we like them or not, in spite of
+the maxim which is said to be the corner-stone of the constitution—‘No
+taxation without representation’.
+
+Our new vision of the Empire is teaching us another thing. We are
+learning to understand more clearly the influence of the past on the
+present. We begin to see that we inherit from the past something more
+than the monuments of the mighty dead. We inherit the very form and
+pressure of our national life; the range, significance and general
+direction of our imperial duties. We inherit not our social problems
+only; but the courage to attack them, and much of the wisdom which
+guides us to their solution. These in all their essential features have
+been determined not _by_ us but _for_ us by the action of forces which
+did their work before we came into existence. We are therefore in no
+mood to respond to the lines of the well-known hymn which bid us ‘give
+the past unto the wind’. A past which has bequeathed to us our national
+status and the broad outline of our imperial responsibilities, a past
+which has given us our political idealism and our love of liberty,
+cannot be ‘given to the wind’ without a degree of treachery of which the
+fiercest anarchist in our midst is not capable. Without distinction we
+feel ourselves bound to ‘carry on’; and what we are ‘carrying on’ is the
+work of our fathers from the most distant ages to the present day. We
+are learning the great truth of which Burke was the prophet—the
+immortality of the State. The past is throbbing in our veins. The cause
+we are fighting for is a thousand years old. Patriots and martyrs for
+liberty are no longer mere names in the book of history; they are living
+forces in our midst. The buried generations are with us. We are members
+of a community which is continuous in time and has millions of members,
+vast clouds of witnesses from every age, whose work is waiting for our
+loyalty to make it complete.
+
+
+ VI
+
+Ladies and gentlemen, all the changes I have described run together into
+one and lead our minds in the same direction. They are driving the
+thoughts of the nation to the roots of things. They are forcing us to
+question the whole basis of our civilization. With the war before our
+eyes we are prepared to find that there is something _radically_ wrong.
+We are beginning to suspect that the mischief is deep-seated. It is true
+that these suspicions had often been roused before this war broke out. A
+visit to the slums will rouse them any day. But the war has made this
+difference: it has brought us _all together_ into a suspicious frame of
+mind; so that if anybody could make clear to us what the driving forces
+of civilization really are, the mind of the nation would at once
+challenge these forces to give an account of themselves and hold them
+under suspicion until they could prove their innocence.
+
+Now there are two great forces which as everybody knows have been
+mightily at work in European history for the last hundred years. One is
+militarism, the other is industrialism. The mind of the nation is
+thinking deeply about both of them. Militarism we have always suspected:
+industrialism has borne a better character, though some of us have had
+our doubts. But recently there have been signs—and they have been
+especially prominent in Germany—that these two forces are much more
+intimately connected than once seemed possible. What have militarism and
+industrialism to do with one another? How are they related? The war has
+thrown a new light on that question and I will try to express some of
+our thoughts.
+
+On a superficial view we are tempted to describe the relation of
+industrialism to militarism as one of antagonism. The two principles are
+simply opposed the one to the other. Industrialism, we think, makes for
+peace; militarism for war. Whence follows the simple conclusion that the
+destruction of militarism will leave the peace-making principle in
+control of civilization and fighting will be at an end.
+
+I believe that thoughtful people are becoming more and more dissatisfied
+with this simple account of the matter.
+
+To begin with, there is the fact staring us in the face that an age
+which is saturated with industrialism has given birth to the bloodiest
+and most destructive war the world has ever seen. We have no need, at
+this point, to assert the disputable proposition that industrialism has
+caused the war. Let us content ourselves with the indisputable
+proposition that industrialism has not prevented the war.
+
+If industrialism were essentially pacific this failure to prevent the
+war would be hard to understand. As the dominant interest of nations and
+individuals, and as making always for peace, how has it come to pass, we
+may well ask, that industrialism has been unable to restrain the forces
+which make for war, and for war on the most stupendous scale? We had
+flattered ourselves that commerce by multiplying and strengthening the
+ties between nations, would make it impossible for these to tear
+themselves asunder and engage in mutual destruction. The event has
+proved we were in error.
+
+Reflecting more deeply on its failure to keep the peace, a suspicion
+gains ground that industrialism when unchecked by other forces may be a
+positive cause of war. By increasing the wealth, the ostentation, and
+the pride of the peoples, does it not serve to accentuate their
+rivalries, to deepen their jealousies, and to inflame their predatory
+passions? Is it not true that wherever great treasure-chests exist,
+there will robbers be found also; and is the treasure less provocative
+of covetousness when gained by commerce, than when extorted from the
+labour of slaves or exacted by the ransom of conquered cities? Are two
+nations, rich and happy in the sort of happiness that comes from riches,
+more likely to be friends than two poor nations each possessing nothing
+which tempts the cupidity of the other?
+
+For example, is not one of the chief causes of the present hostility
+between Germany and Great Britain to be found in the fact that both of
+them, as we say, ‘have done so well in business’? Is it of no
+significance that war broke out at the very time when each was ‘doing
+better than ever’? Eliminate, from the complex of conditions out of
+which the war arose, the circumstance that industry had made both these
+nations rich beyond the dreams of avarice, and may we not say without
+hesitation that war between them would not have taken place?
+
+What answer shall we give to these questions? Shall we take refuge in
+the argument that industrialism shows these baleful tendencies only
+because it is imperfectly developed, and has not yet become truly
+international in character? Shall we plead for a finer articulation of
+the commercial tie, and for more industrialism rather than less? Will
+our dream of the millennium be the conversion of the whole human race
+into a Universal Joint Stock Company? Are we, in a word, to content
+ourselves with the suppression of militarism and trust the weal of the
+race to the working out of the industrial principle, unhampered by the
+interference of its military yoke-fellow?
+
+Such answers show, I cannot help thinking, that we are legislating for
+mankind without reckoning with man, as we so often fail to do. They
+leave untouched the tap-root of war—that primitive instinct which the
+old legislation sought to restrain by the command ‘Thou shalt not
+covet’.
+
+Let us assume the extreme case and suppose that on the conclusion of the
+war the nations of Europe, convinced of their folly and wickedness,
+abandon every form of armament and determine for the future to spend not
+one farthing of the national wealth on armies or fortresses or fleets.
+What would follow?
+
+The immediate result would be the liberation of an enormous amount of
+wealth hitherto set aside for military purposes. The greater part of
+this wealth would flow into industrial channels. It is fair to assume
+that industrialism would be the gainer annually to the extent of five
+hundred million sterling and of a labour force represented by twenty
+millions of men. This is a prospect that ought to make the mouths water
+of those who think that industrial wealth is the foundation of human
+good.
+
+Great Britain, France, Russia, Germany, the United States—to speak of no
+others—rich as they now are, would then grow enormously richer. The
+natural resources of the earth would be exploited to an extent of which
+the present economic development, vast as it is, affords no measure. The
+mere circumstance that each nation might pursue its gains undisturbed by
+the risk of aggression from the others would bring a vast accession of
+confidence, and therefore of efficiency, to the labour and capital
+employed. The total population of the earth would grow by leaps and
+bounds. And under any fairly equitable scheme of distribution there
+would be enough wealth in the world to render every member of the human
+race well-off.
+
+But would there be _peace_?
+
+Long before the pleasing process we have imagined could work itself out
+every one of the great communities would be torn to pieces by civil
+wars. This, I mean, is what would assuredly happen if we suppose the
+economic process to go on without some fundamental change in the ethos
+of mankind.
+
+The peace of nations depends only in part on the suppression of
+militarism. In yet larger measure it depends on the absence of
+disruptive tendencies in the nations themselves.
+
+What these disruptive tendencies can do, or at least what they can
+threaten, was made sufficiently clear in Great Britain during the few
+months which preceded the outbreak of war. Nor were we alone in this
+danger. I need not enter into particulars, for the facts are well known.
+France, Germany, Austria, Russia—even the United States—were seething
+with discontent. I recall the remark made to me by an American statesman
+in 1912. Speaking of the prevalent social unrest he said, ‘We are on the
+eve of a greater crisis than that of our Civil War.’
+
+Internal disruption is the inevitable fate of every nation whose ethos,
+or ideal, rests upon a purely industrial creed. The larger the scope for
+pure industrialism and the fewer the checks which hold it in restraint,
+the more rapidly do the disruptive tendencies gather head and the more
+destructive do they become. It is not the poorest nations which reveal
+the maximum of social discontent. It is the richest. And the prime cause
+of this does not lie in the sense of inequality between individuals who
+have more and individuals who have less; that, no doubt, is a cause, but
+secondary. The root evil is, that a community which makes wealth its
+object, and pursues it on the terms laid down by the economic machine,
+is living under conditions which satisfy nobody and against which all
+men are, by the higher human nature, born rebels. From this point of
+view success in the economic enterprise is even worse for a nation than
+failure. The greater the accumulation of wealth the more dissatisfied do
+men become with the conditions of a merely economic life. Industrial
+communities are always more restless when trade is good than when trade
+is bad, as though the rottenness of the system could only be revealed by
+its triumph. Seldom, however, does the restless spirit penetrate to the
+true cause of the trouble. Unaware that the trouble comes from the
+original vice of the whole enterprise on which we are engaged, we throw
+upon our fellow victims the blame for the common lot, thinking that
+because these suffer less than ourselves therefore they are responsible
+for our sufferings—like the emigrants in the sinking ship who in the
+blindness of their despair fell upon the first-class passengers and tore
+them to pieces.
+
+In short, the common pursuit of wealth is not a _human_ bond. It leads
+to the invention of schemes and machinery of every kind—material,
+political, and social; but, of itself, it can never lead to the vital
+organization of mankind. Nay rather, in spite of all that has been said
+of its unifying tendency, we cannot doubt that its final working is to
+disintegrate the community. Seekers of buried treasure invariably
+quarrel among themselves, for reasons which are manifest to a child.
+They may arrange the most equitable scheme for the division of the
+spoils, and seal their mutual loyalty with fearful oaths, but before the
+voyage is over the captain will be at the yardarm and the deck will be
+slippery with the blood of half the crew. Whether they sail under the
+Jolly Roger, or under the red ensign of industrial civilization, makes
+little difference. Whether the spoil be buried in a pirate’s cavern or
+in the unexploited resources of the earth, it all comes to the same
+thing.
+
+Nor must we forget that the disruptive tendencies of pure industrialism
+have hitherto been largely held in check by militarism itself. There can
+hardly be a doubt that for many years past the common fear of foreign
+aggression and the common need of being prepared for it have played a
+very considerable part, against contrary forces working from within, in
+maintaining the cohesion of every one of the great States now at war.
+And if the question were raised, in which of the great communities of
+the modern world have the signs of economic disruption been most
+abundant, should we not have to point for answer to that country which
+is at once the wealthiest and the least menaced by foreign war, and
+where all classes have the largest share of this world’s goods—the
+United States?
+
+By this time we are all agreed about one thing: militarism—I mean the
+kind of militarism in which Germany has set the example—must go. Whether
+a nobler militarism may arise hereafter is a question: but of this kind
+we have had enough and more than enough. But let us be under no delusion
+as to the sequel. When militarism goes the check will be removed which
+has so far prevented industrialism from producing its bitterest fruits.
+If, therefore, the war merely yields the negative result of destroying
+militarism, we may lay our account with the certainty that there are yet
+greater troubles in store for the world.
+
+But there is ground for hope in the very magnitude of the present
+calamity. Let me remind you of something I have already mentioned in
+another connexion: I mean the way in which the lessons of the war are
+coming simultaneously to vast multitudes of persons. Apply that to the
+mind of Europe as a whole. All the nations involved in the struggle are
+learning the same lesson _at the same time_. All are engaged _together_
+in the bitter but salutary process of discovering their souls. A
+piecemeal repentance of the nations, following a series of partial
+conflicts, might effect very little; a simultaneous repentance, imposed
+by a world-war, may effect a great deal.
+
+Whatever new wisdom, whatever vision of the weak spot in civilization
+are coming to ourselves as a result of the war, we may be very sure that
+the same wisdom, the same vision, are coming, in the same way, to our
+allies and to our enemies. Realizing this, may we not believe that
+beneath the fierce and bloody oppositions of the hour a profound
+principle of unity is at work?
+
+
+
+
+ V
+ WAR AND HATRED[21]
+
+ BY G. F. STOUT
+
+
+What is the real attitude of those who call themselves Christians and
+profess to accept the teaching of the New Testament towards the Sermon
+on the Mount and especially towards such precepts as ‘Love your
+enemies’? That there is here a huge and startling divergence between
+theory and practice seems undeniable. It is equally clear that the
+divergence is not merely of the kind which unavoidably separates moral
+ideals from the actual conduct of imperfect human beings. For this only
+means that, because of the frailty of human nature, we cannot, even with
+our best endeavours, live up to the level of the moral ideal; it does
+not mean that we refuse sincerely to recognize the ideal as a practical
+guide—as a standard to which good men will endeavour to conform their
+actions as far as lies in their power. But the precept ‘Love your
+enemies’ does not seem to be generally recognized in this way as a
+practical guide amid the stress and strain of daily life. It is not even
+generally appealed to as a standard for approving or condemning the
+ordinary behaviour of men. It is not effectively sanctioned by public
+opinion and sentiment. If we inquire why this is so, there appear to be
+two answers, vaguely and confusedly underlying the position of common
+sense. The first is that any sustained effort to pursue the ideal under
+the actual conditions of human life is so impossible that it is useless
+to attempt it. The second is that if we did succeed in loving our
+enemies and in acting as if we loved them, the result would be
+disastrous; the good would be exposed without defence to the forces of
+evil and life would no longer be worth living. For one or both of these
+reasons it seems to be tacitly assumed that in practice we are justified
+in setting aside the precept ‘Love your enemies’ and in substituting for
+it the precept ‘Love your friends and hate your enemies’. At the same
+time it is generally granted that under conditions different from ours
+the rule of love would be universally applicable. But this concession
+turns out on examination to mean very little. For the state of things
+contemplated under which we might be reasonably expected to love our
+enemies seems to be one under which our enemies would be prepared to
+love us or might easily be induced to love us, and this almost amounts
+to saying that we can only be reasonably required to love our enemies
+when there are no enemies for us to love.
+
+This conflict between theory and practice remains for the most part
+inarticulate and subconscious. There is latent uneasiness; but the
+problem is not definitely faced even by thoughtful men. To bring it into
+clear consciousness a special crisis is required. For many of us the
+present war with its painful incidents and complications has had this
+effect. Nor is it difficult to see why this should be so. In war, or, at
+any rate, in such a war as this, we devote all our energies to the task
+of inflicting hurt, loss, and destruction on the enemy, and he in his
+turn devotes all his energies to the task of inflicting hurt, loss, and
+destruction on us. Neither side, it would seem, can do this efficiently
+without being sustained by strong and enduring feeling. But this feeling
+can scarcely partake of the nature of love. It must, it would seem, be
+an emotion the reverse of this. Whether and in what sense there can be
+an emotion opposed to love which is yet not identified with hate, is a
+question which I shall have to discuss later on. In any case, it will
+scarcely be denied that the actual feeling generated even in good and
+well-meaning men by such conditions as those of the present war are to a
+large extent to be classed as feelings of hatred. When the enemy is held
+to have been guilty of cruel and inhuman conduct contrary to the
+recognized usage of civilized warfare, it seems to be still more
+impossible to make any pretence of loving the enemy or of doing anything
+but hate the enemy. How can we love the authors and perpetrators of the
+Belgian atrocities? Not only is this attitude regarded as inevitable in
+war but it is also felt to be justifiable in a special way by the
+special conditions. It is taken to be justifiable for reasons which are
+not in general applicable to similar relations between private
+individuals. One reason is that a private individual is in the main
+protected against the grosser forms of injury by the social order of the
+community to which he belongs, by its laws and institutions, and by
+public opinion and sentiment; to this extent he has no need to take the
+law into his own hands. In war this no longer holds good. We seem in war
+to be reduced to the position of animals who having directly to repel
+harm and aggression themselves, need for that end the primitive and
+instinctive emotion of blind anger which impels them to hurt and destroy
+indiscriminately the enemies who threaten their own destruction. It is
+true that in war there is some protection against certain forms of
+injury in what is called the established usage of civilized warfare. But
+as we know by recent experience, this safeguard cannot be safely relied
+on; and it is just when even this semi-legal protection fails, that we
+tend to give full play to the feeling of hatred or analogous feelings,
+with the sense that we are right in so doing. Another obvious reason why
+we naturally regard hatred of our enemies as especially justified in the
+case of war is that here it is not our own private injuries which we
+resent but injuries done to the whole community of which we are members.
+We are so much in the habit of connecting what is morally wrong with
+selfishness that when there is no selfishness, we tend to assume that
+there can be nothing wrong or at any rate nothing seriously wrong.
+Further, a benevolent disposition towards the common enemy is felt as
+disloyalty to our own people. It tends to awaken indignation or disgust
+as revealing a want of patriotism. On the other hand, the most unsparing
+hatred of the common enemy, though we may more or less condemn it on
+other grounds, is at least approved as an expression of patriotism; and
+patriotism is a virtue of all others most important and indispensable in
+time of war. Hence even though we condemn all hatred as such, yet if we
+cannot have the most intense and efficient patriotism without it we feel
+justified in preferring the two together.
+
+Such considerations as these seem to make a strong case for regarding
+hate, or at least some emotion essentially akin to it, as an attitude
+which may be often both unavoidable and justifiable in dealing with our
+enemies, and more especially with the enemies of our country in time of
+war. None the less it remains true that this attitude is, prima facie,
+very hard to reconcile with the spirit and tendency of Christian
+morality, and particularly with such precepts as ‘Love your enemies;
+bless them that curse you; do good to them that despitefully use you and
+persecute you’. Hence all of us who, whatever may be our view of the
+dogmas of Christian Theology, agree in accepting the moral teaching of
+Christ as expressing the highest human ideal, are placed in a difficult
+position. It looks like a mere evasion and not a solution of this
+difficulty to content ourselves with saying that the Christian ideal,
+though it is in itself the highest, cannot and ought not to be pursued
+under the actual conditions of human life. There are not two relatively
+independent and separate kinds of truth, the theoretical and the
+practical. What is false in practice must, to that extent, be false in
+theory also. The highest ideal is the ideal which we ought to endeavour
+to pursue under all relevant conditions. There is evidence that this is
+recognized by some Christians who entertain no misgiving as to the
+righteousness of the present war, and who are convinced of the necessity
+of prosecuting it with the utmost zeal and energy, and yet, at the same
+time, feel that it is hard or impossible to do so while retaining for
+the enemy anything akin to a Christian disposition. We have here,
+perhaps, the most fundamental reason why some conscientious men who, in
+general, believe in prayer and in the efficacy of prayer, none the less
+shrink from praying for the defeat of the enemy in war. Other grounds
+are put forward, but they seem valid in this particular case only if
+they are valid against prayer in general. It is urged, for instance,
+that God controls the course of events in accordance with His own wisdom
+and goodness, and that it is therefore a futile impertinence to attempt
+to direct His activity to what we erring mortals think best, however
+sincere and well-meaning we may be. Any petition, it is said, which is
+for our own ends is condemned in advance, in so far as our own ends are
+not His ends; and in so far as they do coincide with His the petition is
+superfluous. Taken strictly, this argument would cut at the root not
+only of all prayer but of all human activity. For whatever ends we
+pursue and by whatever means, it is always possible that our aim does
+not coincide with the divine purpose. It would follow, if the argument
+were sound, that the truly religious attitude would be to sit still with
+our hands folded and let events take their course. The fallacy lies in
+the assumption that what is best in matters which concern human beings
+is determined independently of the thoughts and feelings of the human
+beings themselves. In particular, it lies in the assumption that what is
+best for us and for the world must be determined quite independently of
+whether we pray for it or not.
+
+Another reason urged against praying for success in war is that good men
+on the other side are praying for their own success and for our defeat
+with a clear conscience and full belief in the righteousness of their
+cause. What has been called ‘the spectacle of serious men in opposite
+camps raising their competitive prayers to the one God’ may well appear
+to reduce to an absurdity the prayers on both sides. Yet I do not see
+that this consideration has any real weight. For it is not asserted that
+good men ought to refrain from using _other_ ways of pursuing what they
+are sincerely convinced is a good end, merely because other good men
+with equal sincerity are opposed to them. I can find no cogent reason
+for making an exception in the case of prayer. The use of prayer in a
+proper spirit can, at least, do no harm. Further, it is to be remembered
+that when prayer is offered in a right spirit, all special petitions
+have behind them that general attitude of mind which is expressed in the
+words ‘Thy Will be done’. So far as this is so the agreement is more
+fundamental than the opposition. The real difficulty felt by tender
+consciences in praying for success in war seems to me to be of a
+different nature. What holds them back is their sense that they cannot
+pray in that spirit which would alone make their prayers acceptable, and
+that they cannot even prevail on themselves to make a sincere effort to
+attain this spirit. They feel that they cannot appeal to God to be on
+their side unless, in so far as lies in their power, they in the same
+act endeavour to place themselves on the side of God, to conform their
+will and their whole mental attitude to His will as directed to what is
+highest and best. But how is this possible when they not only continue
+to harbour in their heart fierce and embittered emotions, which appear
+irreconcilable with the precept ‘Love your enemies’, but cling to them
+in such a way that they cannot without hypocrisy pretend to try to lay
+them aside or even pray for deliverance from them? They feel that under
+such conditions they would be appealing not to the true God but to some
+partisan deity such as the Kaiser must have had in view when he spoke of
+God as ‘the constant ally of Prussia under the Great Elector and the
+Great King’.
+
+Let it be fully understood that I am not here expressing any view
+concerning the justification of prayer or the efficacy of prayer, or
+concerning Christian doctrine or Christian morality. But if we leave
+such questions entirely on one side, the conception of prayer at least
+supplies us with a useful mode of approaching our present problem. For
+no feelings can be right feelings which in the case of a man who really
+believes in prayer would rightly debar him from seeking in his extreme
+need the help of a Power whom he regards as all wise and all good. We
+may, then, put our question thus: How far is it true that feelings of
+hatred or feelings in any way akin to hatred ought to present a barrier
+of this kind? It is true that what we gain by this mode of stating the
+question is only a point of view which helps us to grapple with it
+earnestly and thoroughly without indulging in weak and illogical
+compromise. It does not directly bring us any nearer to a solution. For
+in order to determine what is acceptable to God we must first determine
+what is good. Our course would indeed be plain if we could take such
+precepts as ‘Love your enemies’, so to speak at their face value and
+treat them without further discussion or interpretation as finally
+authoritative. But even theologians, as such, for the most part refuse
+to do this. Still less is it admissible that I should do so. For I am
+trying to deal with the problem on its own intrinsic merits without
+appeal to authority. This being so I can proceed only in one way. I must
+begin by asking what reasons there are for holding that hatred and
+kindred emotions are evil; then in the light of these reasons I must
+attempt to determine in what sense and without what limits, if there be
+any limits, the general principle holds good. Here we may look for some
+help to the great philosophers. For some of these have maintained, on
+independent grounds, the Christian doctrine in its general spirit and
+tendency. Plato, for instance, holds firmly that the maxim is entirely
+wrong which bids us do good to our friends and harm to our enemies. The
+righteous man, he insists, will in all cases aim only at doing good,
+whether to enemies or friends. Spinoza, too, lays down the principle
+that ‘all hatred is evil’, and even attempts to demonstrate it like a
+proposition in Euclid. There is a Christian philosopher, Bishop Butler,
+who has given us an admirable discussion of the whole subject on
+rational grounds.
+
+At this point I must prepare the ground for further advance by
+expressing more exactly the nature of the problem. So far, the question
+I have raised is whether hatred and kindred emotions are in all cases
+evil. But the tendency of ordinary language is to associate the very
+word, hatred, with some form of bad feeling. From this point of view, to
+ask the question, Can hatred ever be good? sounds like asking whether
+what is bad can be good. But the real issue can easily be stated so as
+to avoid this paradox. There is a certain primitive and instinctive
+emotion called anger, common to man and animals; in animals, it tends to
+be excited by such conditions as overt or threatened attack, painful
+wounds or blows, and often by any kind of opposition or interference, or
+by the threat of such opposition or interference, or even by the mere
+presence of a natural enemy. The real or threatened injury may be either
+to the animal itself or to its young or its mate, or, in the case of
+gregarious animals, to the community of which it is a member. There is a
+modified and restrained form of this passion which arises between
+animals closely connected by social ties, as when the mother slaps her
+young or the mother cat boxes the kitten’s ears. But where the emotion
+is aroused by an outsider there is in general no such limitation. The
+impulse is blindly and indiscriminately directed to damage and destroy.
+By preference, of course, to damage and destroy the enemy, and in the
+next place, whatever is in any way associated with the enemy, but also
+beyond this there is a general destructive impulse which vents itself on
+whatever may encounter it. Consider, for instance, the behaviour of a
+raging bull or of a man who in his fury destroys furniture and breaks
+crockery. Now, so far as animals are concerned, this passion is not the
+subject either of moral approval or disapproval. It is simply a natural
+endowment like the teeth and claws of the cat, or the venom of the
+snake, or the malodorous secretion of the skunk. It has the biological
+function of preserving the individual and the species in the struggle
+for existence; but it has no moral significance. The same holds good
+also for a man, so far as he merely reacts like an animal in a sudden
+and trying situation which takes him by surprise. But it is quite
+otherwise with complex human sentiments which are developed from the
+primitive emotion of anger and remain to the end essentially akin to it.
+In the animal, the emotion occurs as a transient reaction to a transient
+situation. In human beings it passes into a variety of more or less
+permanent dispositions or sentiments, which permeate and control complex
+systems of thought and conduct. Indeed, in some instances, such a
+disposition may be the mainspring of organized thought and action
+throughout a lifetime, as we see in the case of Hannibal’s attitude to
+the Romans. Now the question we have to deal with is this, Are all these
+developed sentiments which have their root in the primitive emotion of
+anger to be condemned as evil; and if not, on what principle are we to
+draw a distinction? If by the word _hatred_ we agree to mean all bad
+passions of this kind, then the question will be, Are all angry
+sentiments and dispositions to be classed as forms of hatred? In dealing
+with this problem we have especially to consider the state of things
+generated by war.
+
+Our first step will be to examine the grounds for regarding hatred as
+necessarily evil. We may then proceed to inquire whether these grounds
+apply to all forms of angry emotion which compel us to hurt or destroy
+our fellow men. The reasons for regarding hatred as evil seem all
+capable of being brought under one head. Hatred is evil inasmuch as it
+is blind, inasmuch as it perpetuates at a higher level the original
+blind and undiscriminating character of the primitive emotion of animal
+anger. So far as this is the case, it is incompatible with the
+development of the higher nature of man as a rational being. The most
+fundamental ground for this position is, perhaps, most clearly stated by
+Spinoza. The supreme good for human beings, he asserts, is to be found
+only in their union and co-operation with each other. ‘Nothing is more
+useful to a man than a man.’ It is only with other men that a man can
+enter on that sort of union which is necessary at once for his own
+existence and development as a human being and for theirs. ‘Except man
+we know of no particular thing in nature in whose Mind we can rejoice.
+With nothing else can we unite in friendship or in any kind of social
+life’ (_Eth._ V. 14, App. § 26). Hence there is a fundamental
+distinction between our relation to human beings and to other things. In
+the case of anything else, ‘A regard for our own welfare does not
+require us to preserve it, but leads us either to preserve or destroy
+it, or to adapt it to our wants in any way according to the varied uses
+of which it admits’ (ibid.). It is otherwise in the case of human
+beings. To seek to destroy them is virtually to seek to destroy
+ourselves. But the passion of hatred blinds us to all this; it blinds us
+to the fact that the essential good of man is to be sought in union with
+his fellow men and impels us to maintain disunion with them and to seek
+our highest good in hurting and destroying them. Nor is it only in its
+consequences that hatred as such is evil. As contrary to the rational
+nature of man, as blinding him to his true good, it works like a disease
+or a cancerous growth in the soul of those who feel it. ‘Nothing can be
+so good for a man as such a temper of mind as will unite him with’ his
+fellow men and them with him; while nothing on the contrary can be so
+bad for him or in him as that which sets him and them at variance. All
+hatred, then, is evil and there can be no greater evil.
+
+All this applies to hatred of the enemy in war. Indeed the evil is the
+greater because the hatred is between great and highly organized
+communities instead of between individuals. There is, however, one fact
+which tends to veil and disguise the evil of hatred in this case. War
+disunites nations, but within each nation it strengthens union and
+mutual co-operation. Now this in itself is good. But it is not good, if
+and so far as the source of unity is participation in a common hatred.
+To this extent the nation is in the position of the individual hater and
+is blinded as he is to its own true good. Speaking broadly, just in so
+far as war leads a nation to treat what is good for it as essentially
+separate from and opposed to what is good for other nations and for
+mankind in general, war does that nation harm. The history of Germany
+illustrates this sufficiently. The root of the mischief is to be sought
+far back in the horrible Thirty Years’ War. But subsequent wars have
+served to keep it alive—the Seven Years’ War, the Napoleonic War, and
+above all, that process of cementing the German Empire with blood and
+iron which Bismarck artificially and violently substituted for the
+natural development which was leading to the same result in a better
+form. The Franco-Prussian War belongs to the same series. It is an
+easily intelligible and even an excusable result of the course of German
+history that national sentiment in Germany has come half-unconsciously
+to treat even peace as if it were a state of suppressed and disguised
+warfare, and to feel no security for its national existence and national
+development unless the mailed fist is continually shaken in the face of
+its enemies in the East and in the West, and unless it is continually
+prepared to pounce on them before they can pounce on it. It has now
+actually pounced in what is called a preventive war. The temper and
+attitude which led to this result is essentially what I found some
+thirty years ago generally diffused among the common people of Berlin
+and especially among old soldiers of the Franco-Prussian War: men’s
+minds were dwelling on the necessity of a reckoning with Russia, and of
+a renewed humiliation of France; there was deep hostility to England
+mingled with contempt for our ways of thinking and acting and with
+jealousy of our undeserved riches and prosperity. This attitude of mind
+has in one way had its reward. In the present struggle the Germans
+started better prepared for war than their opponents. But for this
+advantage they have paid and are likely to pay very dearly. You may be
+inclined to say ‘Serve them right’. But if this is taken to imply that
+the German people is much worse by nature in this respect than other
+peoples I must disagree. I doubt whether under like historical
+conditions any people would have done better.
+
+Hatred, we have said, is bad because it is blind; and fundamentally the
+blindness consists in failure to recognize the true good of man in
+mutual union and co-operation. But there are many other subordinate ways
+in which its essential blindness is manifested. To hate is to view the
+actions and characters of others through a medium which falsifies and
+distorts. To quote Bishop Butler, ‘the whole character and behaviour of
+those we hate is considered with an eye to that particular part which
+has offended us, and the whole man appears monstrous without anything
+right or human in him’. Hatred in fact seeks only its own appropriate
+food and disregards or rejects whatever does not sustain its own life
+and development. We can see this clearly enough in the attitude of our
+enemies towards ourselves. We can see, for instance, how hard it is for
+the German mind, at the present moment, to think anything that is good
+of England and Englishmen; how hard, for instance, they find it to admit
+that we are really patriotic, that our soldiers are anything but
+hirelings, actuated by merely mercenary motives, or that they can fight
+efficiently, or that even our fleet is anything but a pretentious sham.
+But to the reflective observer it is plain enough that a similar
+disposition prevails, though not, I hope, in the same degree, among
+ourselves. Are we prepared to consider fairly the possibility that the
+Germans in entering on the present war were actuated by motives which
+were not wholly bad, or that they really feared and believed that the
+neutrality of Belgium would be violated by France, or in general that
+they feared and believed with what seemed to them good reason that
+unless they took the initiative by a preventive war, they themselves
+would be attacked and taken at a disadvantage?
+
+Hatred not only blinds us to what may be favourable to the enemy; it
+also blinds us to whatever may be wrong in our own feelings and
+behaviour towards them. It tends to place the blame all on one side.
+This, as we know, is very rarely the case. It is very unlikely to be the
+case in a war between great civilized nations. The present war is, I am
+fully convinced, most just and necessary. Yet I also believe that faults
+on our side have indirectly contributed in some degree to prepare the
+way for it.[22]
+
+I shall mention only one more of the manifold ways in which hate leads
+to blindness. It shrinks from any serious and impartial endeavour to
+trace the evil which offends it to the conditions which may account for
+it and render it intelligible. The impulse of hate is not to understand,
+but to destroy. To inquire into conditions and to seek an explanation
+would only divert and distract it. It prefers, therefore, to concentrate
+itself on the persons hated as if they were the sole ultimate sources of
+the evil, as if the evil were due merely to their intrinsic and
+spontaneous badness. It is this attitude of mind which leads us to turn
+away with impatience from any attempt to explain, for instance, the
+Belgian atrocities so as to make it intelligible how they could be
+committed or condoned by a people who in their original human nature are
+not so very different from ourselves. The attempt to explain is treated
+as an attempt to explain away, and resented as if it were a
+justification or defence or denial of fact.
+
+My general position is that hatred is bad inasmuch as it is blind, and I
+am unable to discover anything else which justifies us in treating it as
+necessarily evil. The question is whether all sentiments and emotions
+partaking of the nature of anger are to be condemned on this account.
+Ought we to set before us, as our ideal, freedom from all such emotions
+and sentiments, and the substitution of other motives for them? Let us
+provisionally suppose that this is the ideal, and examine how it would
+work if it were consistently followed. In the first place we must
+consider how we should proceed in attempting to realize the ideal. It
+may be suggested that we should follow invariably in all cases the rule
+‘Overcome evil with good’. Now there may be a sense in which this rule
+is universally applicable and ought to be universally applied. But in
+the common and obvious interpretation of it, this is plainly untrue. As
+commonly interpreted, it means that we ought not to hurt or destroy the
+evildoer, and that instead of this we ought to appeal to his better
+nature by showing goodwill and kindness towards him. This is, of course,
+infinitely the best way where it can be followed effectively and
+followed effectively without incurring greater evils than it has any
+reasonable chance of curing. But these limiting conditions are very
+important. They would clearly apply, for instance, in case of an attack
+by scalp-hunting Red Indians on a family of peaceful settlers. In
+general, the words ‘Overcome evil with good’ are to be taken as
+qualified by the preceding words ‘Be not overcome of evil’. If and so
+far as we can overcome evil without being overcome of evil, it is our
+duty to do so, otherwise it is not. It may, however, still be maintained
+that, though it is admittedly often right and necessary to inflict pain,
+hurt, and destruction on evildoers, yet we ought not to do this in the
+spirit of anger. We ought rather to act purely out of regard for the
+highest attainable good, and we ought to inflict pain and damage on
+evildoers only as a necessary means to this end and not out of any angry
+emotion we may feel towards them.
+
+This is the general position of Spinoza when he asserts as a universal
+principle that all ‘hatred is bad’. It may seem a lofty and noble
+position. But it is not enough for a moral ideal to appear lofty and
+noble when we contemplate it vaguely in the abstract. It must be in such
+direct contact with the actual conditions of human life as to afford
+constant practical guidance in dealing with these. Judged by this
+standard the proposed principle seems to break down. It requires us in
+dealing with the malevolence of human beings to be actuated merely by
+love of good, not at all by resentment against the evildoer. Our mental
+attitude ought, on this view, to be always that assumed by the Quaker in
+_Uncle Tom’s Cabin_ who pushed the slave-driver over the precipice and
+explained his action by the words ‘Friend, thou art not wanted here’.
+The fundamental objection to this is that love of anything implies and
+includes a corresponding feeling of aversion to whatever is recognized
+as opposed to what we love or destructive of what we love. The love of
+health, for instance, implies and includes aversion to disease wherever
+we meet disease and recognize it as such. It does not, of course, imply
+that we must be angry with disease, but that is because we do not love
+health in the same way as we love what is good in human beings and in
+the personal relations of human beings to each other. Just as the
+sentiment of love varies in its nature with the nature of its object,
+there is a corresponding difference in the aversion which is its
+counterpart. Where the evil is malevolence, where it is an evil will
+directed to injustice, cruelty, and selfish aggression, the appropriate
+correlate of love to the good is some form of anger with the evil. And
+this must mean anger with the evildoer. It is not satisfactory to say
+that we may feel aversion to what is evil in a man and only kindness
+towards the man himself. This is to overlook the central fact that the
+evil in this case is an expression of the man’s personal will and
+character which cannot be separated from himself. Nor can we substitute
+sorrow for anger. Sorrow is appropriate to misfortune, but intentional
+injury is not merely a misfortune which happens to befall the person who
+inflicts it. To feel towards it as if it were merely a misfortune is to
+be more or less blind to its true nature. In consequence, when sorrow
+takes the place of anger, it fails to give rise to efficient action; the
+tendency is to mourn over the offender where rebuke and punishment are
+required by the situation.
+
+In actual life, we find some who, owing either to their nature or to
+their circumstances and education, are but little susceptible of angry
+emotion; in such persons we find also a corresponding failure to
+understand or believe in the malicious attitude of mind in which
+intentional injuries have their source. They turn aside from the
+evidence or interpret it in their own one-sided way. An extreme instance
+is that of Charles Lamb’s friend, George Dyer, who, as Lamb tells us,
+could find nothing more severe to say about the worst criminals than
+that they must have been very eccentric. So far as I can make out, I
+belong myself to this class, though not to the same extent as Lamb’s
+friend. I naturally skip such passages in the newspapers as these which
+describe German atrocities in Belgium. I refuse to read even official
+reports. I put myself off by hoping that in the main they are not true,
+or that they are greatly exaggerated, or that they can be explained so
+as to cast another light on them. Yet I have been gradually forced to
+believe in their reality by evidence which I cannot reasonably resist.
+Persons of this type do very well so long as they live a sheltered life,
+spent, for instance, in study. But they are unfit to grapple effectively
+with certain forms of evil or really to appreciate their nature or fully
+to recognize their existence. There are other men who, though they are
+by nature fully susceptible of angry sentiments, suppress them on
+principle, because they regard them as wrong and especially because they
+are afraid of giving way to hatred. So far as concerns those whom they
+recognize as their personal enemies or as the enemies of the society to
+which they belong, their mental attitude and behaviour tends to resemble
+more or less those of the type of men who are naturally deficient in
+angry sentiments. But they are likely to differ from these in an
+important respect. In their anxiety to be fair and benevolent to
+enemies, they are likely to be unfair and harsh to their friends. In
+opposing the natural tendency to regard the faults all on one side, that
+of the enemy, they tend to run to the opposite extreme and to make out
+that it is their own side which is wholly or mainly or at least equally
+to blame in cases where an impartial consideration of the evidence would
+show the contrary. Thus, with them natural sentiments of anger tend to
+creep in, as it were, by a back door. The phrase ‘friends of every
+country but their own’ is often most unfairly applied. But there are
+cases in which it is more or less applicable; and it applies
+appropriately to the type of persons I have described.
+
+My conclusion, then, is that some developed forms of the primitive
+emotion of anger are necessary and right. But how are we to determine
+what these are? How are we to draw the line between them and these forms
+of angry passion which are condemned under the general head of hatred or
+malevolence? After the previous discussion, there need be no difficulty
+as regards the principle upon which we have to proceed. Hatred is bad
+only because it is blind and in so far as it is blind, just as the
+weakly amiable spirit is bad for the same reason. On the other hand,
+what we call just resentment or righteous indignation, though it is akin
+to hatred as being, like it, developed from the primitive emotion of
+anger, is good inasmuch as it is enlightened—inasmuch as it is free from
+the various forms of blindness which characterize hatred. Here, of
+course, the fundamental blindness, which we must do all that in us lies
+to avoid, is blindness to the highest good of humanity as consisting in
+union and co-operation. Righteous indignation or just resentment, as
+felt against the enemy of social order, ought to be merely the obverse
+aspect, the necessary counterpart, of the spirit which pursues union and
+co-operation as its supreme end. So far as we are willing and able to
+follow this principle, we cannot go wrong.
+
+This does not imply that justifiable resentment is necessarily weaker or
+less intense than hatred. The distinction is not one of degree.
+Justifiable resentment is not a fainter form of hatred. It is not, so to
+speak, hatred watered down. So long as it is not blind, there is no
+general limit to its strength, persistence, or intensity. This must be
+proportioned to the varying conditions. In any case, just resentment
+will cease when it is no longer required by the actual situation.
+Hatred, on the contrary, tends to persist blindly.
+
+The theoretical principle on which we must proceed may be defined in
+this way. But its practical application is, of course, very difficult.
+It is hard to ‘be angry and sin not’, to be righteously resentful and
+yet to avoid the blindness of hate. Yet, however far we may be compelled
+to fall short of our ideal, we should consistently endeavour to keep
+this ideal in view as our supreme practical guide and as the measure of
+our failure and success. Here a great help ought to be found in prayer
+by those who believe in prayer and who realize that in prayer they are
+approaching a Being who is completely good and wise. In any case we must
+here, as elsewhere, be willing to take risks; and though the converse is
+more usual, it may sometimes be better to run the risk of being actuated
+by hatred than to run the alternative risk of not feeling due
+resentment.
+
+Let us now turn to a question of fact. How far is it true that we hate
+the Germans and that the Germans hate us? As regards the Germans there
+would seem to be no room for doubt. They loudly tell us that they hate
+us and make a parade of their hatred. But it is easy to attach too much
+importance to this self-conscious and deliberate working up of an
+emotion and theatrical display of it. The best comment is supplied by
+the picture in _Punch_ of a German family practising hatred of England
+before breakfast with appropriate attitudes and grimaces. The same holds
+good for the song of hatred. It is a spirited composition. But I am not
+inclined to take very seriously the kind of hatred which finds lyric
+expression of this sort. In such manifestoes we come upon the
+sentimentality so characteristic of the Germans, the romantic side of
+the German character. The more serious forms of hatred are rather those
+which do not fully examine and express themselves in this fashion. The
+real question is, How far have our angry passions a blinding influence
+in practice? Certainly there is abundant evidence that the Germans are
+blinded in this way. The belief is widespread among them that the key to
+our conduct is throughout to be sought in one master motive, the love of
+gain. They charge us with pursuing our ignoble ends by sly and underhand
+means, veiled under hypocritical pretence. They are convinced, for
+instance, that our horror and resentment at the brutal attack on Belgium
+was merely simulated, and that throughout we care for nothing but our
+own self-interest. They also charge us as a nation with a failure in the
+patriotic spirit which subordinates the interest of individuals and
+parties and classes to the good of the whole. They find in us an
+irresponsible frivolity and easy-going self-complacency which make us
+entirely undeserving of the position which we claim among civilized
+nations. On the other hand, they entertain no doubt that in all these
+ways in which we come short, they themselves are very strong, and that
+they, therefore, have a natural right to supplant us. Now I am far from
+saying that there is no foundation for some at least of the bad things
+which the Germans believe about us. But the sweeping and utterly
+indiscriminate way in which they hold these beliefs is obviously due to
+the blinding influence of hatred and kindred sentiments. That we on our
+side are similarly blinded admits, I think, of no doubt. We are
+convinced, for very cogent reasons, that our enemies deliberately
+brought on this war when they might honourably and safely have
+maintained peace. I do not believe that we are at all blind on this
+point. But our natural resentment does, I think, tend to obscure our
+view of the underlying motives for conduct which in any case cannot be
+justified. No doubt, a spirit of aggression, fostered by the German
+military system and by German traditions, was the most important factor.
+But we are apt to overlook the fact that fear also was a strong motive,
+fear of rival nations with antagonistic interests falling upon them and
+taking them at a disadvantage. Another error to which we are naturally
+prone is found in the assumption that what seems evident to us must be
+evident to our opponents. To us it is clear that the aggression is on
+their side. But the great body of the German people, including the best
+men among them, are convinced that it is they who are the victims and we
+who are the aggressors. Their natural leaders have assured them that
+this is the case, and have so stated the facts as to make it appear so;
+and this view found ready acceptance because of that attitude of
+suspicious fear to which I have just alluded. The picture which we are
+apt to make for ourselves of a whole people rushing to arms merely in
+order to make an unprovoked onslaught on its neighbours is certainly a
+false one, which we could not entertain unless we were more or less
+blinded by hate. I find further evidence of the same blindness in much
+of the current talk about the necessity of crushing Germany. So far as
+this means that we ought to do our work so thoroughly that it will not
+need to be done over again it is fully justified. But if the meaning is
+that the best or the only way of effecting this is by destroying the
+national existence of Germany, it seems to me that we are being misled
+by our passions. However good our case may be in this quarrel, we shall
+put ourselves in the wrong if we reduce our adversary to a position in
+which it becomes his absolute duty to lose sight of all other
+considerations in the bare struggle for existence. Again, I do not think
+that we at all realize how much we should miss Germany if there were no
+Germany. Omitting other most important considerations, it is very far
+from clear that the political situation as regards the balance of power
+in Europe would be at all improved by such a change. Besides this, we do
+not sufficiently consider whether it lies in our power to crush Germany
+in the way proposed, or, if it does, whether the attempt may not cost us
+too dear.
+
+In another direction, the blindness of hate finds expression in the
+present tendency to depreciate German literature, science, and
+philosophy. Some of the things which are now being said on this topic I
+largely agree with. I have long held that the value of the German
+contribution to literature, science, and even philosophy has been
+seriously over-estimated as compared with that of other nations. But
+much of the current talk on this subject is hopelessly undiscriminating
+and exaggerated. In any case, it is amusing to find men talking in this
+vein who would never have thought of doing so if there had been no war.
+Our being at war with Germany can scarcely make any difference, one
+would think, to the greatness of Goethe or of Hegel.
+
+
+In conclusion, let me go back to my starting-point. What are we to say
+finally concerning the precept ‘Love your enemies’? Is there any sense
+in which it is of universal application? I think there may be. It must
+not, of course, be taken to mean that we are to love our enemies with
+what Bishop Butler calls ‘a peculiar affection’. There are many who are
+not our enemies for whom we can feel no peculiar affection. Besides, if
+we love our enemies in this sense, what, as Confucius is said to have
+inquired, are we to do in the case of our friends? But if we take the
+meaning to be—Will good to your enemy rather than evil, the rule may,
+under a certain condition, be regarded as universally applicable. If we
+accept Plato’s doctrine that it is better for the evildoer himself that
+he should suffer punishment than that he should go unpunished, it seems
+possible, however difficult in practice, to inflict pain and hurt on him
+while retaining goodwill towards him in the very act of doing so. From
+this point of view, failure to feel just resentment and express it in
+action is an injury to the evildoer himself as well as to others. But is
+it always better for the evildoer himself to be punished? If it makes
+him a better man, we may agree that this is so. But so far as we can
+see, it sometimes has the reverse effect. If we are to justify the
+principle in its widest generality, we must go beyond what we can see.
+We must postulate a moral order or something equivalent to a moral order
+in the universe according to which it is always in some way ultimately
+better for the evildoer to be punished than to escape punishment. If
+this is Christian doctrine, then Christianity may consistently maintain
+the universal application of the maxim, ‘Love your enemies.’
+
+
+
+
+ VI
+ PATRIOTISM IN THE PERFECT STATE
+
+ BY B. BOSANQUET
+
+
+The quality of patriotism is determined by what we desire for our
+country, as the quality of friendship is determined by what we desire
+for our friend. And this question—the question what it is that we desire
+for our country—is of supreme moment to-day, because in the answer given
+to it, whether by practice or in principle, are rooted the permanent
+underlying conditions of war and peace.
+
+Assuming then that what is true of principles is true of the
+corresponding practice, whether or no the actors understand what they
+are doing, I will ask you to consider with me three typical ideas
+expressive of what men desire for their country, each of them bearing a
+distinctive relation to the causes and customs of war, and to the
+permanent basis of peace.
+
+And in this consideration I hope that we shall also be elucidating an
+interesting question in the history of recent thought. We shall see how
+the splendid political philosophy of Germany a hundred years ago has
+passed on the one hand into her intoxication of to-day, while on the
+other hand, elsewhere, in face of a more liberal experience, it has
+found a decisive completion in a human and democratic sense. The three
+conceptions to which I refer have very much in common, and a great part
+of the interest of our inquiry, and also perhaps a little practical
+value which it might possess, depends on noticing very precisely the
+points at which distinctions become blurred, and the ideas, mostly by
+mere omission, are apt to slide into one another.
+
+Let us make a beginning, then, with Hegel’s political thought, the
+German thought of a hundred years ago. At that time the idea of a man’s
+country, as focussed in the state, was a glorious vision, stimulated
+largely by Greek conceptions and drawing something from English
+constitutional experience; while in the existing reality of the Prussian
+system there was little to catch the eye, and little power, therefore,
+to narrow the outlook.
+
+Now the essential point for us here to grasp firmly, if we wish to enter
+into the truth of the matter and its adjacent fallacies, is that Hegel
+means by the state, not the machine of government, but all that fulfils,
+in the actual community, the individual’s mind and will. The individual
+is supposed to see in it the form of life, and more than that, the
+particular form of sentiment and volition, which his nation has so far
+worked out for itself, and in which he, the private person, finds the
+substance of his own mind, and what unites him with others. It includes,
+of course, the ethical tradition of the society, with the observances
+and institutions in which it is embodied and preserved; and more
+especially it is identified with the general will as expressed in the
+laws and the political constitution. The state, in short, is the ark in
+which the whole treasure of the individual citizen’s head and heart is
+preserved and guarded within a world which may be disorderly and
+hostile.
+
+One may naturally ask, where then does humanity come in, and how
+recognize the claims of other nations and persons? This is exceedingly
+important, but not difficult. Your country is held to express the whole
+form of life for which you stand, and therefore, within that, your moral
+attitude to humanity and the world in general. If you are an Englishman,
+you probably object to slavery. But that attitude is not a thing of
+chance, in which you stand outside your age and country. It is part of
+the outlook at which, on the whole, England had at a certain time
+arrived, and which came to individual Englishmen through their
+participation in the national mind. Here is a point at which a slide
+into fallacy is too possible. That moral view of the world which you and
+your state stand up for is one thing. A moral view which considers only
+your own and your state’s immediate interests is quite another thing;
+but it is very easy to confuse the two, both in practice and in
+controversy.
+
+We have said enough to indicate the value which, according to such
+ideas, the private individual, in theory or by practice, recognizes in
+his state. Looked at in this way, our country, the state, is simply all
+we have. Innumerable claims may come to us from outside, but they all
+come through it and subject to it; just as they all come to us through
+our own feelings and our own beliefs. Without the state we are nothing
+and nobody. It is for us the vehicle of the value of the world. It
+stands for our contribution to the general sum of what humanity has
+achieved and what makes any life worth living.
+
+So far what we desire for our country, our view of its mission, is to
+achieve the very best we all are capable of becoming. But there is
+another side to this same set of ideas.
+
+Obviously, to fulfil this, its necessary mission, the state needs above
+all things to be _strong_. Men who had lived through Napoleonic times
+could have no doubt about that. Who indeed was to help a state if it
+could not help itself? War, then, was the inevitable arbiter, and by the
+test of war the state must stand or fall. Hegel is primarily appealing
+to facts when he says that outside the several communities there is no
+general will. As yet there could not be; for the general will _is_ the
+will of a community, backed by its whole body, mind, and sentiment.
+Thus, no one can possibly dictate into what demands separate states
+shall throw their ultimate honour and self-assertion; and if in these
+they conflict there is no ultimate solution but war. On one side, we
+have seen, the state is akin to art, philosophy, and religion; it is
+mind in a concentrated form. But between it and these other shapes of
+mind there is the one fundamental distinction. The state is mind ‘in the
+world’. It is not only our treasure, but it is the ark which carries our
+treasure. ‘In the world’ right can only prevail through might. Strength
+in war is therefore the first condition of the state’s fulfilment of its
+function; and being the first condition, and a condition peculiar to the
+state among the forms of mind, it is too easily taken as the aim and
+whole upshot of the state. This again, as we shall see, is a point at
+which one idea is apt to slide into another.
+
+Therefore, since as yet there can be, outside and above the several
+states, no general will with a common heart and force, no
+‘praetor’—judge representing power—but only at best an ‘arbitrator’, all
+international laws, treaties, and usages are, at bottom, only agreements
+of a number of particular wills, the wills of absolute independent
+bodies. _So far_ nations are to one another, as older writers had said,
+in a state of nature, like the supposed (but quite imaginary)
+individuals before Society was invented. Hegel does not say that there
+cannot be, and are not, humane usages, conventions, rules, and treaties.
+The whole of international law rests on the principle that treaties are
+to be observed. But behind all this there is the sheer fact of the
+separate individual powers, each absolute in its limited area; so that,
+at bottom, the whole fabric of international rules and customs is just
+an agreement of separate wills, and not an expression of a single
+general will. Ultimately, or fundamentally, each of these separate wills
+is and must be determined by its own conception of its own welfare. This
+is the difficulty I think in the way of leagues and federations in
+favour of peace as suggested by Kant and by Norman Angell. They are
+purely _de facto_. They do not rest upon the spirit of a solid
+community; and every powerful league tends _ipso facto_ to raise up a
+powerful counter-league against it, with grave risk of war.
+
+It follows from this that there is a fundamental distinction between the
+moral position of the private individual who works out the detail of his
+duty on the basis of recognized rights within a previously ordered and
+organized society, and that of the state, which has ‘in the world’ to
+provide and sustain, at all hazards, the organized society within which
+the individual is to live. The tasks of morals and of international
+politics are different in principle, though the end to which they
+co-operate is the same. The immediate task of morals is to live a life,
+that of international politics is to provide a world within which life
+can be lived.
+
+The same distinction must be pushed beyond the difference of the tasks
+into the difference of their possibility. For the private individual it
+is fairly easy, in the main, at least to _know_ what he should do, and
+what he should not. He lives within a scheme of recognized rights and
+obligations; and, starting from his legal position and accepted duties,
+he can tell whether he is behaving selfishly or generously, rudely or
+courteously, kindly or unkindly. His lawyer will tell him his legal
+rights; and it is for him to insist upon them or to surrender them. But
+in principle the state has no such guide. It is not living out an
+ordered life, within a recognized scheme. It cannot tell whether it is
+being less than just, or merely just, or kind and generous. For it every
+case is under altering conditions and new, and it is sole judge in its
+own cause. A state may think that it is behaving with superhuman
+generosity, while its antagonist may think it is behaving like a bandit.
+There is no complete or detailed scheme and scale of conduct and
+sentiment to operate as a norm of feeling and judgement. Of course this
+language may seem exaggerated in face of the well-established usages of
+international law, and the existence of treaties. But the difference we
+have mentioned affects them all. _Ultimately_, to reiterate that
+terrible adverb, which governs the whole argument, it is as we say. A
+private person has the letter and spirit of his moral world to live up
+to, and on the main lines and choices of life there is a wealth of
+recognized obligations which, I do not say tell him what to do, but
+certainly warn him what he is doing. A state is sailing a sea but
+slightly charted, and what marks the charts do furnish are mostly recent
+and depend on a revocable consent. As a supreme power, it has a
+responsibility for every choice, of which no precedents nor external
+recommendations can divest it. At every step it is making a new world.
+
+Thus, in such an idea of patriotism as we have been describing, the
+attitude to war is favourable on the whole. There is, it suggests, an
+element in the world which is transitory and accidental, the element of
+temporal life and temporal goods. It is natural and necessary that
+accident should prey upon the accidental, and that contingent values
+should thus be distinguished from substantial. War is the fiery test of
+reality, and the maker of nations. ‘In the world’ accident is necessary
+and has its good. Here is a striking passage; not a complete survey of
+the question, but, I think, requiring consideration, and showing the
+conviction embodied in the attitude we have tried to portray:
+
+‘Of course, war brings insecurity of possessions, but this actual
+insecurity is only a necessary movement. We hear from the pulpit so much
+of the uncertainty, vanity, and fickleness of temporal things; but every
+one thinks as he hears it, however touching may be the eloquence, “_I_
+shall manage to keep what is mine”. But now if this uncertainty
+confronts them in grim earnest in the shape of hussars with naked
+sabres, then the touching spirit of edification, in the face of the very
+thing it foretold, betakes itself to hurling curses at the victors. But
+in spite of all, wars take place when the occasion demands it; the crops
+grow again; and babble is mute before the grim iterations of
+history.’[23]
+
+Before leaving these ideas of a hundred years ago, it is worth while to
+note the general temper of intellectual Germany in that great age. It
+was full, no doubt, of self-assertion, not unbecoming to a nation
+conscious of immense capacities. But it was sympathetic and receptive.
+No men ever worked harder to educate themselves in the widest experience
+of humanity than Goethe and his contemporaries. Their feeling is fairly
+expressed in some verses addressed by Schiller to Goethe, on the
+exceptional occasion of a play by Voltaire being performed at the Weimar
+theatre. We see in them the delicate balance of self-assertion and
+receptivity. Here is a rough version:
+
+ To home-born art this stage is consecrated,
+ No more are stranger idols worshipped here;
+ The laurel we display with heart elated
+ On _our_ poetic mount its growth did rear;
+ To art’s high fane, himself initiated,
+ Boldly the German genius has drawn near;
+ And on the track of Briton and of Greek
+ Has set his face a purer fame to seek.
+
+The Briton and the Greek are Shakespeare and Aristotle, or perhaps the
+Greek Tragedians. And the same types of experience, English and
+Hellenic, were at work in the conception of patriotism we have
+portrayed. It is not, Hegel says, emphatically, the mere occasional
+readiness for extreme sacrifices. It is the recognition of the community
+as our substance throughout all the detailed functions of life. We shall
+further see the supreme value of this apparently prosaic view.
+
+Now we need not add many words in explaining how this attitude of the
+great time has degenerated into the creed of violence and self-interest
+of which we hear to-day. It is essentially the passage of a large and
+many-sided philosophical doctrine into the hands of ignorant and biased
+amateurs, soldiers, historians, politicians.[24] Well, all philosophy is
+dangerous, for it blinks no side of the truth, and any one of its
+statements, taken by itself and with bias, may act as a mighty strong
+wine or as a high explosive.
+
+It is enough to recall the two points in the great German philosophy at
+which we noted how readily one idea slides into another. One is where it
+says that a state is and can be determined only by its own good. We
+tried to explain that the thing is a truism. Its good is the form of
+life and feeling which it has made and chosen, and includes its
+relations to others. But if for good (Wohl) you read exclusive
+self-interest, the thing is done. A great idea slides before your eyes
+into the meanest of worldly maxims. So with the other point. As guardian
+of a treasure, the state must be strong in war. But it is different when
+you say that its strength in war sets it free to sully at its will the
+treasure it has to guard.
+
+To make these two transitions is the same thing as to drop out from the
+conception of patriotism all that we said about the positive values of
+which the state is guardian. In a huge country, intoxicated with its new
+material prosperity, and even in the realm of intellect so busy with
+myriad specialities as to be deafened to voices from without by the
+clamour of its own contending schools, such a transition seems almost
+natural.
+
+But yet, when this transition is made, the public conscience, the
+compass of the difficult voyage, is gone. Everything depended on its
+recognition of the supreme values within its own good; and the change
+leaves them as mere names for whatever can be effected by force. And
+now, all the _de facto_ truths which the great philosophy conceded with
+regard to international conventions return upon us with crushing force.
+You can find parallels in Hegel, as we saw, for much of the language, e.
+g., of the _Book of War_, about mere usages and conventions. The only
+difference is that the national conscience—which makes Hegel say, for
+instance, that Europe is in actual humane behaviour a single family—the
+national conscience is now deleted from the theory.
+
+So by mere omission and exaggeration, this great idea of patriotism is
+totally perverted, and we are brought to the point that what a man
+desires for his country is military supremacy to be used without scruple
+in the promotion of its exclusive interest.
+
+This was the second of the three attitudes or ideas of patriotism which
+we meant to consider. We have observed how it might arise by a heated
+and narrowed conception of the first, under the intoxication of new
+achievements, leading to new temptations and ambitions.
+
+But now, recurring for a moment to the philosophy of the great time, let
+us consider a third expression of patriotism, to which it has given rise
+in a wholly different atmosphere.
+
+It was a conviction, held in common by the two forms of patriotism we
+have been considering, that war is a necessary accident, arising out of
+the very nature of the state as a separate sovereign power exposed to
+accident, and therefore, something to which a state is liable because
+and in as far as it is what a state should be. Now a great deal in this
+idea may seem to us a truism. States _are_ particular independent
+bodies, themselves sole ultimate judges of their differences and their
+honour. No independent state (as Pericles said) _will_ brook an order
+from another state; if it does, its independence is gone. And on such a
+point there can be no arbitration. War _is_ the ultimate arbiter, and
+therefore springs from this very nature of states; and it _does_ behove
+states to be strong. And for war, as for all other evils and accidents,
+there _is_ a good deal to be said. Each of them by itself is clearly a
+thing to be fought against, but without any of them at all—well, life
+would very soon generate new ones.
+
+But a further question has been raised, and seems worth pursuing. Is not
+a wrong done somewhere, when lives are sacrificed in war? Certainly it
+is not murder, for it is not unlawful killing; but again, it is not
+merely like an earthquake. It comes from human conduct somewhere and
+somewhen. We may not be able to apportion the guilt of it, but it might
+be worth inquiry whether the conduct could not be changed. Perhaps our
+analysis has hitherto not gone far enough. _After_ differences have
+broken out between independent sovereign states all we have said holds
+good—the separate wills of separate bodies, the mere outward agreements
+with no deep-seated impartial will and power behind them, the usages and
+rules at the mercy of the individual conscience of states, which in some
+cases appears to be an absent factor.
+
+Well, but cannot we go further back? _Is_ it in the nature of states
+that differences should constantly be arising between them? The state is
+there to be the condition of organized good life for the inhabitants of
+a certain territory. Is it a property of this function that different
+states should be continually liable to be at variance? Is tendency to
+war really a feature of states in respect of what they are as states? Or
+is it not rather perhaps a feature of them in so far as they fail to be
+states? To organize good life in a certain territory seems to have
+nothing in it prima facie which should necessitate variance between the
+bodies charged with the task in one place and in another.
+
+When, in the light of this question, we look closer at the facts, what
+stares us in the face is that the cause of external conflict as a rule
+is not internal organization, but internal disorganization. The
+quarrelsome man is not well organized in his mind; he is ill
+organized—certainly in mind, probably in body. Plato indeed laid his
+finger on the place, though you might criticize his explanation in some
+particulars. The origin of war, he says, is when states become
+internally diseased; the more they are distracted within, the more they
+come into conflict without.
+
+Let us think further of this. People who are satisfied do not want to
+make war; and in a well-organized community people are satisfied. War
+must arise from dissatisfied elements in a community; people who have
+not got what they want within (or have it but are afraid of losing it)
+and so look for profit or for security in adventures without. War
+belongs to a state, then, ultimately, not in so far as it is a state,
+but in so far as it is not a state.
+
+All sorts of causes of dissatisfaction or alarm lead to external
+conflict. There may be privileged classes directly interested in
+resisting the better organization of the community; in maintaining, for
+instance, an obsolete franchise and the power of a military caste. There
+may be oppressed religious persuasions, oppressed nationalities,
+provinces torn from the allegiance they prefer. All of these are likely
+to throw their hopes and ambitions outside the state which formally
+includes them, and to produce resentments against it in other groups.
+Then, more subtle and more modern, there are the whole set of
+restrictions upon human intercourse which depend on the idea that the
+gain of one community is the loss of another. All of these make doubly
+for war; they make privileges at home, which turn the mind of the
+privileged class away from internal organization and towards external
+aggression; and they make exclusions abroad, turning the mind of the
+excluded classes to retaliation both in kind and by arms. Exclusion
+reaches the climax of its vicious effect when it becomes an affair of
+what I shall call for short ‘passive markets’—such, that is, as raise
+the problem of the prior possession of uncivilized regions which the
+white man can exploit at pleasure, and at pleasure close against others.
+
+I must not pause to analyse at length the claims supported by that
+blessed word ‘expansion’. So good a historian as Dr. Holland Rose[25]
+seems to accept the increase of Germany’s population by 50 per cent. in
+one generation as a sufficient reason for a vigorous expansion policy.
+But surely we must distinguish between the duties really imposed upon a
+state by such an increase with a view to organization of life, and the
+adventures and exclusive exploitations for which it may be the pretext,
+but which do nothing serious to aid the work of organization, while they
+fill the world with monopolies and with terrors of aggression.
+
+And again, it appears only just to remark, following for example a
+recent article by Sir Harry Johnston,[26] confirmed in this respect by
+Mr. Morel,[26] that when in a huge world-empire there is advocated a
+policy of commercial exclusion directed against other countries, these
+countries will anticipate being gravely prejudiced in their legitimate
+foreign trade. Then follows the desire on their part to possess
+themselves of exclusive markets, and unending fears and resentments are
+bred on every side. That the practical and theoretical inspiration of
+the policy so advocated had its source in some of the countries
+threatened by it, would have made it, if carried out, an interesting
+retribution, but would not have diminished its danger.
+
+Surely, for the legitimate expansion demanded by increase of population
+the ‘open door’ is the right and effective principle. It will meet both
+the need of trade, and in the last resort, the need of space and
+elbow-room for population. Under it no one’s expansion can be a threat
+to any one, or produce monopolies which will hinder social organization,
+and turn men’s minds to aggression. And it must also be noted that the
+loss of citizen population, which is sometimes complained of, is not
+really met by mere increase of territorial possessions. It is largely
+due to the very military system which is relied on to remedy its
+causes—in a word, to defective social organization, which lays unwelcome
+burdens on the ordinary citizen, and even fails to utilize territorial
+expansion as an outlet for population.
+
+It must be borne in mind, however, that the exclusive policy advocated
+within our Empire was decisively rejected, and the open door, the main
+thing demanded by expansion elsewhere, was as decisively maintained.
+Even territorial acquisition in tropical regions, though it has
+practically been of little value to the increasing populations of
+European countries, this country has not obstructed, and I hope and
+trust that it will maintain its unenvious policy in this respect up to
+the limits of possibility in the settlement after the war.
+
+I have no right to lecture on economics, but the general principles
+which I have been advocating, of absence of monopoly at home, and the
+‘open door’ abroad, fall, I think, within the competence of a student of
+politics. Restrictions on human intercourse are prima facie injurious,
+and demand the very strongest justification if they are to be tolerated.
+
+And on a kindred point, really beyond my competence, I will merely put a
+question. Presupposing a sufficiency of external trade to pay for food
+and raw materials, is not the home market the most important and the
+most secure? When it is not so, is not the purchasing power of the most
+numerous classes short of what it should be? And through directing the
+minds of the leaders of trade to external adventure, is not such a state
+of things a constant incentive to exclusive exploitation and to war?
+
+I will end by summarizing as shortly as I can the conclusions which
+follow from our argument—both what we must admit, and what we are
+anxious to maintain.
+
+(1) We must admit that states, in consequence of their separateness and
+absoluteness, are so _far_ in a relation of nature to each other, though
+this is mitigated by humane conventions and usages. If differences
+arise, the ultimate arbiter is war, which is therefore necessary to the
+function of states as now existing. While this is so, international
+politics must differ from individual morality as maintaining a world
+differs from living in one.
+
+(2) We must admit that when, on this basis, it is attempted to secure
+peace according to the rule _Si vis pacem, para bellum_, the project is
+self-contradictory. As principles are the same for all parties, it
+implies the condition of securing peace to be that of any two opponent
+powers each must be at the same time stronger than the other. This
+contradiction is the root of the race in armaments.
+
+(3) We must admit that, on this basis, no league or federation _ad hoc_
+can secure peace. Every such league must, sooner or later (being a mere
+convention of separate wills) arouse a counter-league. Such
+arrangements, I believe, are fertile of wars.
+
+(4) We maintain that the fundamental root of peace lies in the
+recognition that war belongs to states not in as far as they are states,
+but in as far as they are not states; granted that their actual defects
+to-day make the reverse of this appear to be the truth.
+
+(5) We maintain that the patriotism which is the source of peace
+therefore lies in a thorough everyday loyalty to the state as a means of
+harmonious internal organization excluding privilege and monopoly, and
+in our desire for our country of those supreme goods which are not
+diminished by sharing. Trade and industry, though acquisitions of
+material wealth, take on this character when conducted on an impartial
+and rational basis. This view agrees with the great German philosophy in
+its estimate of true patriotism, but goes further in analysing the
+relation of such patriotism to the causes of war.[27]
+
+(6) We maintain that in a group or world of states, possessed by such a
+patriotism, and therefore organized so as to be free from causes of
+resentment, and united in aims and methods which admit of harmony, it is
+conceivable that a true general will (not a mere external convention)
+might grow up which should be solidly supported by the body, spirit, and
+sentiment of all the communities.[28] In such a case a genuine
+international moral world would be created, and international politics
+would approach more nearly to the nature of private morality, though
+they could never be the same. In some respects, indeed, the state, as
+more impartial, might maintain a higher standard than the individual, as
+happens on occasion even to-day.[29]
+
+(7) We maintain that the patriotism which is the desire for our country
+of those supreme goods which are not diminished by sharing, is a
+guarantee of a right estimate of values, and therefore of justice and
+reasonable organization in dealing with wealth and power both at home
+and abroad.
+
+Such a patriotism, desiring and sustaining the perfection of the state
+in its organizing functions as a state, is the only force which is
+essentially directed to destroying the causes of war. Even those
+intangible springs of hostility, the jealousy and vanity of nations,
+cannot ultimately exist in the same world with such a patriotism.
+
+This temper of mind offers the only prospect of a solid general will
+including groups of states. As its expression, but not without it,
+leagues of states for the enforcement of peace might do good service.
+Its detailed operation in such a crisis as will confront the nations of
+Europe at the close of the war, will consist in a sincere and
+persevering effort to secure everywhere the removal of all such causes
+of internal distraction as have been specified above.
+
+By the merest accident in the world, the last word in this course of
+lectures has fallen to me. And I feel irresistibly impelled to use the
+opportunity, well knowing how inadequately, in making an appeal to you
+in the spirit of a conviction which more and more possesses my mind.
+
+I will try to explain it thus.
+
+It was proposed some weeks ago that there should be a day of national
+humiliation. The highest authority in the land rejected that form of
+expression, and I believe that we all approved of the rejection.
+
+No, we do not want a day of national humiliation. If ever it is right
+for a country to hold up its head, it is right for our country to-day.
+But nevertheless there is something, not wholly different from this, for
+which in the spirit of our argument I would earnestly appeal. There is a
+way in which every one of us can do something, and even can do much, to
+promote the solid foundations of a stable peace. I repeat that we do not
+want a national humiliation. But we at least who must stay at home have
+a need and duty of individual and national self-examination. It cannot
+indeed be a duty incumbent on the men at the front—they have other
+matters to attend to—but, most remarkably, the evil temper against which
+it is directed is not on the whole the temper of the men at the front.
+But for us—it is a thing we can do, and a thing we should do. We should
+examine ourselves—is our patriotism such as to lead towards the
+perfectly organized state? Do we desire for our country and ourselves
+only the best things we know, beauty and truth and love and wholesome
+living? Do we seek, by this infallible criterion of values, to guarantee
+both ourselves and our country against the corrupt self-seeking which is
+the ultimate cause of war?
+
+Right as our cause is to-day, has not the wrong which we are labouring
+to undo been fostered by ourselves as by others, if not in our case by
+direct international action, yet by the exhibition of a jealous and
+menacing spirit of rivalry? Do we not constantly endeavour to lower
+other nations in our private and public talk, in the world of letters,
+and in trade? Is our journalism, is our literature of the war—though I
+gladly acknowledge some most excellent things in both—yet are they on
+the whole such as we can look upon with satisfaction?
+
+I am entirely without sympathy for the attempts made by a few among our
+learned men, and by very many who are far from learned, to belittle the
+intellectual and moral debt of Europe to Germany, and to prove for
+instance that Goethe—_Goethe_—was a great exemplar of selfishness. And
+horrible things as I believe her armies have done in the war, yet the
+attitude which demands that when peace returns Germany or Prussia should
+be intentionally humiliated and excluded from the European family of
+nations, to my own feeling is actually repellent, and to my judgement is
+an attitude of self-satisfaction, morally dangerous in the extreme, and
+politically absurd. Surely, whatever others may do, we on our side
+should fight our terrific battle like gentlemen, without rancour or
+venom, and with eagerness, above all, when the fight is done, to
+recognize the merits of our adversary which both his passion and ours
+have for the moment travestied, and to renew the international bonds of
+commerce, science, art, and philosophy. We ought not to fall below the
+standard set us by our private soldiers upon Christmas Day, and indeed,
+as we hear, upon every day of the war.
+
+Punishment and humiliation let us leave to consequences and to history.
+Belligerents are not good moral judges of each other. Much of what we
+hear to-day in anticipation of the sequel of the war brings irresistibly
+to my mind the profound wisdom of George Meredith’s warning against the
+ridiculous attempt at a union of ill temper and policy.
+
+The patriotism we have attempted to portray implies and demands that we
+should desire for our country, not a triumph of vanity and
+self-interest, but a share in such a solid work of organization as shall
+be most favourable to the performance of a true state’s function in
+_every_ community of Europe. Thus alone can we deserve well of our
+country, and our country of the world.
+
+-----
+
+Footnote 1:
+
+ _L’Orientation religieuse de la France actuelle_, pp. 62, 63.
+
+Footnote 2:
+
+ _Practical Ethics_, pp. 64, 65.
+
+Footnote 3:
+
+ These sentences are taken from an address, ‘Ueber das Verhältniss der
+ Politik zur Moral’, published in 1875, among the _Reden und Aufsätze_
+ of Gustav Rümelin, Chancellor of the University of Tübingen.
+
+Footnote 4:
+
+ The mistake of attempting to deal with both subjects was discovered
+ too late to be remedied, but some remarks on the second which were
+ omitted in the delivery of the lecture are here printed.
+
+Footnote 5:
+
+ The reader to whom discussions of the subject of the preceding
+ paragraphs are new, and who desires to pursue them, is recommended to
+ refer to F. H. Bradley, _Ethical Studies_, v and vi; Green,
+ _Principles of Political Obligation_, in _Works_, vol. ii, or as
+ separately published; Bosanquet, _Philosophical Theory of the State_.
+ The line followed in these books runs back through Hegel to Plato and
+ Aristotle, on whose political philosophy see vol. i of Newman’s
+ edition of Aristotle’s _Politics_. My short statement does not
+ profess, of course, to represent the views of any one of the writers
+ named.
+
+Footnote 6:
+
+ ‘By nature’ here does not mean what the reader is likely to suppose.
+ On Spinoza’s doctrine see Green, op. cit.
+
+Footnote 7:
+
+ Essay _Of Empire_. Cf. _Of Greatness of Kingdoms and Estates_. That
+ Bacon should be thought a great _moral_ guide seems strange, but his
+ political essays (notably that _Of Plantations_), like his others, are
+ of course full of wisdom.
+
+Footnote 8:
+
+ I introduce the word in order to indicate the danger of using it. It
+ inevitably suggests an antithesis to something higher (‘duty’ or
+ ‘principle’), and so is taken to mean, not the end of the state, but
+ some subordinate part of that end.
+
+Footnote 9:
+
+ What is said here of slavery was suggested by a passage in Green, op.
+ cit.
+
+Footnote 10:
+
+ Regarding this ideal, and others less ambitious, there is always the
+ question whether they do not presuppose a moral progress which would
+ make an actual organization needless.
+
+Footnote 11:
+
+ The number of British embassies and legations abroad is fifty-seven
+ (Whitaker).
+
+Footnote 12:
+
+ It is ridiculous to give this name to the state’s normal duty of
+ developing its own life.
+
+Footnote 13:
+
+ This cannot be called an unconditional duty, if that means a duty
+ which in no circumstances can be superseded by a higher duty (_every_
+ duty is unconditional except as against a higher). I honour the German
+ Chancellor for his frank statement that the violation of Belgian
+ neutrality was an ‘Unrecht’ (a violation of law; i.e. something which
+ is almost always, but not always, wrong). What was false was the
+ description, as ‘a matter of life and death’, of the supposed superior
+ duty taken to justify the supersession of the inferior. And what was
+ revolting, and only too significant, was the revelation, in the phrase
+ ‘a scrap of paper’, of the belief that the supersession of a duty is a
+ trifle.
+
+Footnote 14:
+
+ See the introduction to the translation of Kant’s essay (1893, now
+ republished). There is a slighter sketch in W. A. Phillips’
+ instructive _Confederation of Europe_, 1914.
+
+Footnote 15:
+
+ The conduct of the ‘Concert of Europe’ in recent years may be
+ contrasted very favourably with that of the Holy Alliance, and may
+ well be taken as a good augury; and it is better to emphasize this
+ than to dwell on the defects of the Concert. At the same time, one
+ must remember that it has been mainly concerned with troubles arising
+ from the decay of the Turkish Empire, and that this Empire has not
+ been considered as a full member of the European ‘Family’, and so has
+ not been treated as one of the United States of Europe would have to
+ be.
+
+Footnote 16:
+
+ I do not remember, and have not found, any passage in his writings
+ which shows in what precise form he conceived this ideal.
+
+Footnote 17:
+
+ The latter, for example, in the instructive little book called _The
+ War and Democracy_, by members of that admirable society, ‘The
+ Workers’ Educational Association’.
+
+Footnote 18:
+
+ As regards its social spirit and its standard of social values,
+ England can hardly be called democratic. It is probably less so than
+ France was under the third Napoleon.
+
+Footnote 19:
+
+ I must point out that it by no means follows from the doctrine of the
+ state’s moral end that the state should promulgate or encourage one
+ particular view regarding the duties of its citizens or its own
+ future. On the contrary, one may hold that doctrine and yet hold that
+ the state should abstain from doing this and, however much it may
+ support or enforce education, should, within the necessary limits,
+ leave ‘ideas’ to prevail or fail through the process of free
+ competition.
+
+Footnote 20:
+
+ In his lectures on the Philosophy of History, Hegel spoke of
+ ‘world-historical’ individuals and peoples, who represent for a time
+ that ‘world-spirit’ whose ‘right’ is supreme; and perhaps some rash
+ German reader might cry, ‘Yes, France a century ago, and Germany now.’
+ But he will not find a word in Hegel to countenance his claim; and if
+ he builds his hopes on military power he might ponder Hegel’s final
+ sentence about the astounding victories of Napoleon: ‘Never was the
+ powerlessness of victory shown in a clearer light than then.’ I do not
+ mean to imply that, according to Hegel, what we call the best
+ intentions are bound to prevail. No philosopher was less inclined to
+ ignore painful facts. His whole philosophy might even be called an
+ attempt to understand and justify them.
+
+Footnote 21:
+
+ My indebtedness in this Paper to Bishop Butler will be obvious to all
+ who know his sermons on ‘Resentment’ and on ‘The Forgiveness of
+ Injuries’.
+
+Footnote 22:
+
+ Among these faults I should count our failure to intervene in the
+ Schleswig-Holstein War.
+
+Footnote 23:
+
+ Hegel, _Philosophy of Right_, s. 324.
+
+Footnote 24:
+
+ The professors, it is said, have been mobilized in the service of
+ Germany. And on the general merits of the dispute this is so. But I am
+ not aware of evidence that philosophers of repute have adopted, say,
+ Bernhardi’s or Treitschke’s views of justification by force. Eucken,
+ though he stands up for his country, does so partly on the ground that
+ Bernhardi is not representative, and we must be allowed to discount
+ the popular use of hard sayings from Nietzsche, though he has very
+ probably misled the multitude. Nietzsche is not a thinker whom he that
+ runs may read. Wundt, I think, is simply misinformed and credulous,
+ while strongly affected by national bias and vanity. I may add that
+ the idea of ‘culture’ in the earlier period is right and fine. I cite
+ from Kant what is probably the original account of it: ‘We are
+ _civilized_ to the point of wearisomeness, into all sorts of social
+ courtesy and politeness. But before we can be held to be _moralized_
+ there is a very long way to go. For culture implies more than
+ civilization, it implies the idea of morality.’ Kant’s _Werke_ (R.)
+ 7,329. He is censuring the expenditure on ‘expansion’, as thwarting
+ the spiritual growth of the citizens.
+
+Footnote 25:
+
+ _Manchester Lectures on Germany in 19th Century_, 2nd. ed. 19.
+
+Footnote 26:
+
+ _New Statesman_, February 6 and 13.
+
+Footnote 27:
+
+ See T. H. Green, _Lectures on Principles of Political Obligation_, ss.
+ 157–75.
+
+Footnote 28:
+
+ Lord Haldane’s Montreal address, ‘Higher Nationality’, republished in
+ _The Conduct of Life_, Murray, 1914.
+
+Footnote 29:
+
+ Green, op. cit., s. 175.
+
+------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+
+
+
+ TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES
+
+
+ ● Fixed typos; non-standard spelling and dialect retained.
+ ● Enclosed italics font in _underscores_.
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 79404 ***