THE MIND IN THE MAKING

The Relation of Intelligence to Social Reform

By JAMES HARVEY ROBINSON

_Author of_ "PETRARCH, THE FIRST MODERN SCHOLAR" "MEDIAEVAL AND MODERN TIMES" "THE NEW HISTORY", ETC. 

CONTENTS

I

PREFACE

1. ON THE PURPOSE OF THIS VOLUME

2. THREE DISAPPOINTED METHODS OF REFORM

II

3. ON VARIOUS KINDS OF THINKING

4. RATIONALIZING

5. HOW CREATIVE THOUGHT TRANSFORMS THE WORLD

III

6. OUR ANIMAL HERITAGE. THE NATURE OF CIVILIZATION

7. OUR SAVAGE MIND

IV

8. BEGINNING OF CRITICAL THINKING

9. INFLUENCE OF PLATO AND ARISTOTLE

V

10. ORIGIN OF MEDIAEVAL CIVILIZATION

11. OUR MEDIAEVAL INTELLECTUAL INHERITANCE

VI

12. THE SCIENTIFIC REVOLUTION

13. HOW SCIENTIFIC KNOWLEDGE HAS THE CONDITIONS OF LIFE

VII

14. "THE SICKNESS OF AN ACQUISITIVE SOCIETY"

15. THE PHILOSOPHY OF SAFETY AND SANITY

VIII

16. SOME REFLECTIONS ON THE PHILOSOPHY OF REPRESSION

17. WHAT OF IT?

APPENDIX

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I. 

PREFACE

This is an essay--not a treatise--on the most important of all mattersof human concern. Although it has cost its author a great deal morethought and labor than will be apparent, it falls, in his estimation, far below the demands of its implacably urgent theme. Each page couldreadily be expanded into a volume. It suggests but the beginning ofthe beginning now being made to raise men's thinking onto a plainwhich may perhaps enable them to fend off or reduce some of thedangers which lurk on every hand. 

J. H. R. 

NEW SCHOOL FOR SOCIAL RESEARCH, NEW YORK CITY, _August, 1921. _

THE MIND IN THE MAKING

1. ON THE PURPOSE OF THIS VOLUME

If some magical transformation could be produced in men's ways oflooking at themselves and their fellows, no inconsiderable part of theevils which now afflict society would vanish away or remedy themselvesautomatically. If the majority of influential persons held the opinionsand occupied the point of view that a few rather uninfluential peoplenow do, there would, for instance, be no likelihood of another greatwar; the whole problem of "labor and capital" would be transformed andattenuated; national arrogance, race animosity, political corruption, and inefficiency would all be reduced below the danger point. As an oldStoic proverb has it, men are tormented by the opinions they have ofthings, rather than by the things themselves. This is eminently true ofmany of our worst problems to-day. We have available knowledge andingenuity and material resources to make a far fairer world than thatin which we find ourselves, but various obstacles prevent ourintelligently availing ourselves of them. The object of this book is tosubstantiate this proposition, to exhibit with entire frankness thetremendous difficulties that stand in the way of such a beneficent changeof mind, and to point out as clearly as may be some of the measures to betaken in order to overcome them. 

When we contemplate the shocking derangement of human affairs whichnow prevails in most civilized countries, including our own, even thebest minds are puzzled and uncertain in their attempts to grasp thesituation. The world seems to demand a moral and economic regenerationwhich it is dangerous to postpone, but as yet impossible to imagine, let alone direct. The preliminary intellectual regeneration whichwould put our leaders in a position to determine and control thecourse of affairs has not taken place. We have unprecedented conditionsto deal with and novel adjustments to make--there can be no doubt of that. We also have a great stock of scientific knowledge unknown to ourgrandfathers with which to operate. So novel are the conditions, socopious the knowledge, that we must undertake the arduous task ofreconsidering a great part of the opinions about man and his relationsto his fellow-men which have been handed down to us by previousgenerations who lived in far other conditions and possessed far lessinformation about the world and themselves. We have, however, first tocreate an _unprecedented attitude of mind to cope with unprecedentedconditions, and to utilize unprecedented knowledge_ This is thepreliminary, and most difficult, step to be taken--far more difficultthan one would suspect who fails to realize that in order to take it wemust overcome inveterate natural tendencies and artificial habits of longstanding. How are we to put ourselves in a position to come to think ofthings that we not only never thought of before, but are most reluctantto question? In short, how are we to rid ourselves of our fond prejudicesand _open our minds_?

As a historical student who for a good many years has been especiallyengaged in inquiring how man happens to have the ideas and convictionsabout himself and human relations which now prevail, the writer hasreached the conclusion that history can at least shed a great deal oflight on our present predicaments and confusion. I do not mean byhistory that conventional chronicle of remote and irrelevant eventswhich embittered the youthful years of many of us, but rather a studyof how man has come to be as he is and to believe as he does. 

No historian has so far been able to make the whole story very plainor popular, but a number of considerations are obvious enough, and itought not to be impossible some day to popularize them. I venture tothink that if certain seemingly indisputable historical facts weregenerally known and accepted and permitted to play a daily part in ourthought, the world would forthwith become a very different place fromwhat it now is. We could then neither delude ourselves in thesimple-minded way we now do, nor could we take advantage of theprimitive ignorance of others. All our discussions of social, industrial, and political reform would be raised to a higher plane ofinsight and fruitfulness. 

In one of those brilliant divagations with which Mr. H. G. Wells iswont to enrich his novels he says:

 When the intellectual history of this time comes to be written, nothing, I think, will stand out more strikingly than the empty gulf in quality between the superb and richly fruitful scientific investigations that are going on, and the general thought of other educated sections of the community. I do not mean that scientific men are, as a whole, a class of supermen, dealing with and thinking about everything in a way altogether better than the common run of humanity, but in their field they think and work with an intensity, an integrity, a breadth, boldness, patience, thoroughness, and faithfulness--excepting only a few artists--which puts their work out of all comparison with any other human activity.... In these particular directions the human mind has achieved a new and higher quality of attitude and gesture, a veracity, a self-detachment, and self-abnegating vigor of criticism that tend to spread out and must ultimately spread out to every other human affair. 

No one who is even most superficially acquainted with the achievementsof students of nature during the past few centuries can fail to seethat their thought has been astoundingly effective in constantly addingto our knowledge of the universe, from the hugest nebula to the tiniestatom; moreover, this knowledge has been so applied as to well-nighrevolutionize human affairs, and both the knowledge and its applicationsappear to be no more than hopeful beginnings, with indefinite revelationsahead, if only the same kind of thought be continued in the same patientand scrupulous manner. 

But the knowledge of man, of the springs of his conduct, of hisrelation to his fellow-men singly or in groups, and the felicitousregulation of human intercourse in the interest of harmony andfairness, have made no such advance. Aristotle's treatises onastronomy and physics, and his notions of "generation and decay" andof chemical processes, have long gone by the board, but his politicsand ethics are still revered. Does this mean that his penetration inthe sciences of man exceeded so greatly his grasp of natural science, or does it mean that the progress of mankind in the scientificknowledge and regulation of human affairs has remained almoststationary for over two thousand years? I think that we may safelyconclude that the latter is the case. 

It has required three centuries of scientific thought and of subtleinventions for its promotion to enable a modern chemist or physicistto center his attention on electrons and their relation to themysterious nucleus of the atom, or to permit an embryologist to studythe early stirrings of the fertilized egg. As yet relatively little ofthe same kind of thought has been brought to bear on human affairs. 

When we compare the discussions in the United States Senate in regardto the League of Nations with the consideration of a broken-down carin a roadside garage the contrast is shocking. The rural mechanicthinks scientifically; his only aim is to avail himself of hisknowledge of the nature and workings of the car, with a view to makingit run once more. The Senator, on the other hand, appears too often tohave little idea of the nature and workings of nations, and he relieson rhetoric and appeals to vague fears and hopes or mere partisananimosity. The scientists have been busy for a century in revolutionizingthe _practical_ relation of nations. The ocean is no longer a barrier, as it was in Washington's day, but to all intents and purposes a smoothavenue closely connecting, rather than safely separating, the easternand western continents. The Senator will nevertheless unblushingly appealto policies of a century back, suitable, mayhap, in their day, but nowbecome a warning rather than a guide. The garage man, on the contrary, takes his mechanism as he finds it, and does not allow any mystic respectfor the earlier forms of the gas engine to interfere with the neededadjustments. 

Those who have dealt with natural phenomena, as distinguished frompurely human concerns, did not, however, quickly or easily gainpopular approbation and respect. The process of emancipating naturalscience from current prejudices, both of the learned and of theunlearned, has been long and painful, and is not wholly completed yet. If we go back to the opening of the seventeenth century we find threemen whose business it was, above all, to present and defend commonsense in the natural sciences. The most eloquent and variedlypersuasive of these was Lord Bacon. Then there was the young Descartestrying to shake himself loose from his training in a Jesuit seminaryby going into the Thirty Years' War, and starting his intellectuallife all over by giving up for the moment all he had been taught. Galileo had committed an offense of a grave character by discussing inthe mother tongue the problems of physics. In his old age he wasimprisoned and sentenced to repeat the seven penitential psalms fordiffering from Aristotle and Moses and the teachings of the theologians. On hearing Galileo's fate. Descartes burned a book he had written, _OnThe World_, lest he, too, get into trouble. 

From that time down to the days of Huxley and John Fiske the strugglehas continued, and still continues--the Three Hundred Years' War forintellectual freedom in dealing with natural phenomena. It has been aconflict against ignorance, tradition, and vested interests in churchand university, with all that preposterous invective and cruelmisrepresentation which characterize the fight against new andcritical ideas. Those who cried out against scientific discoveries didso in the name of God, of man's dignity, and of holy religion andmorality. Finally, however, it has come about that our instruction inthe natural sciences is tolerably free; although there are still largebodies of organized religious believers who are hotly opposed to someof the more fundamental findings of biology. Hundreds of thousands ofreaders can be found for Pastor Russell's exegesis of Ezekiel and theApocalypse to hundreds who read Conklin's _Heredity and Environment_or Slosson's _Creative Chemistry_. No publisher would accept ahistorical textbook based on an explicit statement of the knowledge wenow have of man's animal ancestry. In general, however, our scientificmen carry on their work and report their results with little or noeffective hostility on the part of the clergy or the schools. Thesocial body has become tolerant of their virus. 

This is not the case, however, with the social sciences. One cannotbut feel a little queasy when he uses the expression "social science", because it seems as if we had not as yet got anywhere near a realscience of man. I mean by social science our feeble efforts to studyman, his natural equipment and impulses, and his relations to hisfellows in the light of his origin and the history of the race. 

This enterprise has hitherto been opposed by a large number ofobstacles essentially more hampering and far more numerous than thosewhich for three hundred years hindered the advance of the naturalsciences. Human affairs are in themselves far more intricate andperplexing than molecules and chromosomes. But this is only the morereason for bringing to bear on human affairs that critical type ofthought and calculation for which the remunerative thought aboutmolecules and chromosomes has prepared the way. 

I do not for a moment suggest that we can use precisely the same kindof thinking in dealing with the quandaries of mankind that we use inproblems of chemical reaction and mechanical adjustment. Exactscientific results, such as might be formulated in mechanics, are, ofcourse, out of the question. It would be unscientific to expect toapply them. I am not advocating any particular method of treatinghuman affairs, but rather such a _general frame of mind, such acritical open-minded attitude_, as has hitherto been but sparselydeveloped among those who aspire to be men's guides, whetherreligious, political, economic, or academic. Most human progress hasbeen, as Wells expresses it, a mere "muddling through". It has beenman's wont to explain and sanctify his ways, with little regard totheir fundamental and permanent expediency. An arresting example ofwhat this muddling may mean we have seen during these recent years inthe slaying or maiming of fifteen million of our young men, resultingin incalculable loss, continued disorder, and bewilderment. Yet menseem blindly driven to defend and perpetuate the conditions whichproduced the last disaster. 

Unless we wish to see a recurrence of this or some similar calamity, we must, as I have already suggested, create a new and unprecedentedattitude of mind to meet the new and unprecedented conditions whichconfront us. _We should proceed to the thorough reconstruction of ourmind, with a view to understanding actual human conduct andorganization_. We must examine the facts freshly, critically, anddispassionately, and then allow our philosophy to formulate itself asa result of this examination, instead of permitting our observationsto be distorted by archaic philosophy, political economy, and ethics. As it is, we are taught our philosophy first, and in its light we tryto justify the facts. We must reverse this process, as did those whobegan the great work in experimental science; we must first face thefacts, and patiently await the emergence of a new philosophy. 

A willingness to examine the very foundations of society does not meana desire to encourage or engage in any hasty readjustment, but certainlyno wise or needed readjustment _can_ be made unless such an examinationis undertaken. 

I come back, then, to my original point that in this examination ofexisting facts history, by revealing the origin of many of our currentfundamental beliefs, will tend to free our minds so as to permithonest thinking. Also, that the historical facts which I propose torecall would, if permitted to play a constant part in our thinking, automatically eliminate a very considerable portion of the grossstupidity and blindness which characterize our present thought andconduct in public affairs, and would contribute greatly to developingthe needed scientific attitude toward human concerns--in other words, to _bringing the mind up to date_. 

2. THREE DISAPPOINTED METHODS OF REFORM

Plans for social betterment and the cure of public ills have in thepast taken three general forms: (I) changes in the rules of the game, (II) spiritual exhortation, and (III) education. Had all these notlargely failed, the world would not be in the plight in which it nowconfessedly is. 

I. Many reformers concede that they are suspicious of what they call"ideas". They are confident that our troubles result from defectiveorganization, which should be remedied by more expedient legislationand wise ordinances. Abuses should be abolished or checked byforbidding them, or by some ingenious reordering of procedure. Responsibility should be concentrated or dispersed. The term of officeof government officials should be lengthened or shortened; the numberof members in governing bodies should be increased or decreased; thereshould be direct primaries, referendum, recall, government bycommission; powers should be shifted here and there with a hope ofmeeting obvious mischances all too familiar in the past. In industryand education administrative reform is constantly going on, with thehope of reducing friction and increasing efficiency. The House ofCommons not long ago came to new terms with the peers. The League ofNations has already had to adjust the functions and influence of theCouncil and the Assembly, respectively. 

No one will question that organization is absolutely essential inhuman affairs, but reorganization, while it sometimes producesassignable benefit, often fails to meet existing evils, and notuncommonly engenders new and unexpected ones. Our confidence inrestriction and regimentation is exaggerated. What we usually need isa _change of attitude_, and without this our new regulations oftenleave the old situation unaltered. So long as we allow our governmentto be run by politicians and business lobbies it makes littledifference how many aldermen or assemblymen we have or how long themayor or governor holds office. In a university the fundamental driftof affairs cannot be greatly modified by creating a new dean, or auniversity council, or by enhancing or decreasing the nominalauthority of the president or faculty. We now turn to the secondsanctified method of reform, moral uplift. 

II. Those who are impatient with mere administrative reform, or wholack faith in it, declare that what we need is brotherly love. Thousands of pulpits admonish us to remember that we are all childrenof one Heavenly Father and that we should bear one another's burdenswith fraternal patience. Capital is too selfish; Labor is bent on itsown narrow interests regardless of the risks Capital takes. We are alldependent on one another, and a recognition of this should begetmutual forbearance and glad co-operation. Let us forget ourselves inothers. "Little children, love one another. "

The fatherhood of God has been preached by Christians for overeighteen centuries, and the brotherhood of man by the Stoics longbefore them. The doctrine has proved compatible with slavery andserfdom, with wars blessed, and not infrequently instigated, byreligious leaders, and with industrial oppression which it requires abrave clergyman or teacher to denounce to-day. True, we sometimes havemoments of sympathy when our fellow-creatures become objects of tendersolicitude. Some rare souls may honestly flatter themselves that theylove mankind in general, but it would surely be a very rare soulindeed who dared profess that he loved his personal enemies--much lessthe enemies of his country or institutions. We still worship a tribalgod, and the "foe" is not to be reckoned among his children. Suspicionand hate are much more congenial to our natures than love, for veryobvious reasons in this world of rivalry and common failure. There is, beyond doubt, a natural kindliness in mankind which will show itselfunder favorable auspices. But experience would seem to teach that itis little promoted by moral exhortation. This is the only point thatneed be urged here. Whether there is another way of forwarding thebrotherhood of man will be considered in the sequel. 

III. One disappointed in the effects of mere reorganization, anddistrusting the power of moral exhortation, will urge that what weneed above all is _education_. It is quite true that what we need iseducation, but something so different from what now passes as suchthat it needs a new name. 

Education has more various aims than we usually recognize, and shouldof course be judged in relation to the importance of its severalintentions, and of its success in gaining them. The arts of readingand writing and figuring all would concede are basal in a world ofnewspapers and business. Then there is technical information and thetraining that prepares one to earn a livelihood in some more or lessstandardized guild or profession. Both these aims are reached fairlywell by our present educational system, subject to various economiesand improvements in detail. Then there are the studies which it isassumed contribute to general culture and to "training the mind", withthe hope of cultivating our tastes, stimulating the imagination, andmayhap improving our reasoning powers. 

This branch of education is regarded by the few as very precious andindispensable; by the many as at best an amenity which has littlerelation to the real purposes and success of life. It is highlytraditional and retrospective in the main, concerned with ancienttongues, old and revered books, higher mathematics, somewhat archaicphilosophy and history, and the fruitless form of logic which hasuntil recently been prized as man's best guide in the fastnesses oferror. To these has been added in recent decades a choice of thevarious branches of natural science. 

The results, however, of our present scheme of liberal education aredisappointing. One who, like myself, firmly agrees with its objectsand is personally so addicted to old books, so pleased with suchknowledge as he has of the ancient and modern languages, so envious ofthose who can think mathematically, and so interested in naturalscience--such a person must resent the fact that those who have had aliberal education rarely care for old books, rarely read for pleasureany foreign language, think mathematically, love philosophy orhistory, or care for the beasts, birds, plants, and rocks with anyintelligent insight, or even real curiosity. This arouses thesuspicion that our so-called "liberal education" miscarries and doesnot attain its ostensible aims. 

The three educational aims enumerated above have one thing in common. They are all directed toward an enhancement of the chances of_personal_ worldly success, or to the increase of our _personal_culture and intellectual and literary enjoyment. Their purpose is notprimarily to fit us to play a part in social or political betterment. But of late a fourth element has been added to the older ambitions, namely the hope of preparing boys and girls to become intelligentvoters. This need has been forced upon us by the coming of politicaldemocracy, which makes one person's vote exactly as good as another's. 

Now education for citizenship would seem to consist in gaining aknowledge of the actual workings of our social organization, with someilluminating notions of its origin, together with a full realizationof its defects and their apparent sources. But here we encounter anobstacle that is unimportant in the older types of education, butwhich may prove altogether fatal to any good results in our efforts tomake better citizens. Subjects of instruction like reading andwriting, mathematics, Latin and Greek, chemistry and physics, medicineand the law are fairly well standardized and retrospective. Doubtlessthere is a good deal of internal change in method and content goingon, but this takes place unobtrusively and does not attract theattention of outside critics. Political and social questions, on theother hand, and matters relating to prevailing business methods, raceanimosities, public elections, and governmental policy are, if theyare vital, necessarily "controversial". School boards andsuperintendents, trustees and presidents of colleges and universities, are sensitive to this fact. They eagerly deprecate in their publicmanifestos any suspicion that pupils and students are being awakenedin any way to the truth that our institutions can possibly befundamentally defective, or that the present generation of citizenshas not conducted our affairs with exemplary success, guided by theimmutable principles of justice. 

How indeed can a teacher be expected to explain to the sons anddaughters of businessmen, politicians, doctors, lawyers, andclergymen--all pledged to the maintenance of the sources of theirlivelihood--the actual nature of business enterprise as now practiced, the prevailing methods of legislative bodies and courts, and theconduct of foreign affairs? Think of a teacher in the public schoolsrecounting the more illuminating facts about the municipal governmentunder which he lives, with due attention to graft and jobs! So, courses in government, political economy, sociology, and ethicsconfine themselves to inoffensive generalizations, harmless details oforganization, and the commonplaces of routine morality, for only inthat way can they escape being controversial. Teachers are rarely ableor inclined to explain our social life and its presuppositions withsufficient insight and honesty to produce any very important results. Even if they are tempted to tell the essential facts they dare not doso, for fear of losing their places, amid the applause of all therighteously minded. 

However we may feel on this important matter, we must all agree thatthe aim of education for citizenship as now conceived is a preparationfor the same old citizenship which has so far failed to eliminate theshocking hazards and crying injustices of our social and politicallife. For we sedulously inculcate in the coming generation exactly thesame illusions and the same ill-placed confidence in existinginstitutions and prevailing notions that have brought the world to thepass in which we find it. Since we do all we can to corroborate thebeneficence of what we have, we can hardly hope to raise up a moreintelligent generation bent on achieving what we have not. We all knowthis to be true; it has been forcibly impressed on our minds of late. Most of us agree that it is right and best that it should be so; someof us do not like to think about it at all, but a few will be glad tospend a little time weighing certain suggestions in this volume whichmay indicate a way out of this _impasse_. [1]

We have now considered briefly the three main hopes that have beenhitherto entertained of bettering things (I) by changing the rules ofthe game, (II) by urging men to be good, and to love their neighbor asthemselves, and (III) by education for citizenship. It may be thatthese hopes are not wholly unfounded, but it must be admitted that sofar they have been grievously disappointed. Doubtless they willcontinue to be cherished on account of their assured respectability. 

Mere lack of success does not discredit a method, for there are manythings that determine and perpetuate our sanctified ways of doingthings besides their success in reaching their proposed ends. Had thisnot always been so, our life to-day would be far less stupidlyconducted than it is. But let us agree to assume for the moment thatthe approved schemes of reform enumerated above have, to say theleast, shown themselves inadequate to meet the crisis in whichcivilized society now finds itself. Have we any other hope?

Yes, there is Intelligence. That is as yet an untested hope in itsapplication to the regulation of human relations. It is notdiscredited because it has not been tried on any large scale outsidethe realm of natural science. There, everyone will confess, it hasproduced marvelous results. Employed in regard to stars, rocks, plants, and animals, and in the investigation of mechanical andchemical processes, it has completely revolutionized men's notions ofthe world in which they live, and of its inhabitants, _with thenotable exception of man himself_. These discoveries have been used tochange our habits and to supply us with everyday necessities which ahundred years ago were not dreamed of as luxuries accessible even tokings and millionaires. 

But most of us know too little of the past to realize the penalty thathad to be paid for this application of intelligence. In order thatthese discoveries should be made and ingeniously applied to theconveniences of life, _it was necessary to discard practically all theconsecrated notions of the world and its workings which had been heldby the best and wisest and purest of mankind down to three hundredyears ago_--indeed, until much more recently. Intelligence, in acreature of routine like man and in a universe so ill understood asours, must often break valiantly with the past in order to get ahead. It would be pleasant to assume that all we had to do was to build onwell-designed foundations, firmly laid by the wisdom of the ages. Butthose who have studied the history of natural science would agree thatBacon, Galileo, and Descartes found no such foundation, but had tobegin their construction from the ground up. 

The several hopes of reform mentioned above all assume that the nowgenerally accepted notions of righteous human conduct are not to bequestioned. Our churches and universities defend this assumption. Oureditors and lawyers and the more vocal of our business men adhere toit. Even those who pretend to study society and its origin seem oftento believe that our present ideals and standards of property, thestate, industrial organization, the relations of the sexes, andeducation are practically final and must necessarily be the basis ofany possible betterment in detail. But if this be so Intelligence hasalready done its perfect work, and we can only lament that the outcomein the way of peace, decency, and fairness, judged even by existingstandards, has been so disappointing. 

There are, of course, a few here and there who suspect and evenrepudiate current ideals and standards. But at present theirresentment against existing evils takes the form of more or lessdogmatic plans of reconstruction, like those of the socialists andcommunists, or exhausts itself in the vague protest and faultfindingof the average "Intellectual". Neither the socialist nor the commonrun of Intellectual appears to me to be on the right track. The formeris more precise in his doctrines and confident in his prophecies thana scientific examination of mankind and its ways would at all justify;the other, more indefinite than he need be. 

If Intelligence is to have the freedom of action necessary toaccumulate new and valuable knowledge about man's nature andpossibilities which may ultimately be applied to reforming our ways, it must loose itself from the bonds that now confine it. The primevalcurse still holds: "Of every tree in the garden thou mayest freelyeat; but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, thou shalt noteat of it; for in the day that thou eatest thereof thou shalt surelydie. " Few people confess that they are afraid of knowledge, but theuniversity presidents, ministers, and editors who most often andpublicly laud what they are wont to call "the fearless pursuit oftruth", feel compelled, in the interest of public morals and order, todiscourage any reckless indulgence in the fruit of the forbidden tree, for the inexperienced may select an unripe apple and suffer from thecolic in consequence. "Just look at Russia!" Better always, instead oftaking the risk on what the church calls "science falsely so called", fall back on ignorance rightly so called. No one denies thatIntelligence is the light of the world and the chief glory of man, but, as Bertrand Russell says, we dread its indifference torespectable opinions and what we deem the well-tried wisdom of theages. "It is, " as he truly says, "fear that holds men back; fear thattheir cherished beliefs should prove harmful, fear lest theythemselves should prove less worthy of respect than they have supposedthemselves to be. 'Should the workingman think freely about property?What then will become of us, the rich? Should young men and womenthink freely about sex? What then will become of morality? Shouldsoldiers think freely about war? What then will become of militarydiscipline?'"

This fear is natural and inevitable, but it is none the less dangerousand discreditable. Human arrangements are no longer so foolproof asthey may once have been when the world moved far more slowly than itnow does. It should therefore be a good deed to remove or lighten anyof the various restraints on thought. I believe that there is an easyand relatively painless way in which our respect for the past can belessened so that we shall no longer feel compelled to take the wisdomof the ages as the basis of our reforms. My own confidence in whatPresident Butler calls "the findings of mankind" is gone, and theprocess by which it was lost will become obvious as we proceed. I haveno reforms to recommend, except the liberation of Intelligence, whichis the first and most essential one. I propose to review by way ofintroduction some of the new ideas which have been emerging during thepast few years in regard to our minds and their operations. Then weshall proceed to the main theme of the book, a sketch of the manner inwhich our human intelligence appears to have come about. If anyonewill follow the story with a fair degree of sympathy and patience hemay, by merely putting together well-substantiated facts, many ofwhich he doubtless knows in other connections, hope better tounderstand the perilous quandary in which mankind is now placed andthe ways of escape that offer themselves. 

NOTES. 

[1] George Bernard Shaw reaches a similar conclusion when hecontemplates education in the British Isles. "We must teachcitizenship and political science at school. But must we? There is nomust about it, the hard fact being that we must not teach politicalscience or citizenship at school. The schoolmaster who attempted itwould soon find himself penniless in the streets without pupils, ifnot in the dock pleading to a pompously worded indictment for seditionagainst the exploiters. Our schools teach the morality of feudalismcorrupted by commercialism, and hold up the military conqueror, therobber baron, and the profiteer, as models of the illustrious andsuccessful. "--_Back to Methuselah_, xii. 

 * * * * *

II

 Good sense is, of all things among men, the most equally distributed; for everyone thinks himself so abundantly provided with it that those even who are the most difficult to satisfy in everything else do not usually desire a larger measure of this quality than they already possess. --DESCARTES. 

 We see man to-day, instead of the frank and courageous recognition of his status, the docile attention to his biological history, the determination to let nothing stand in the way of the security and permanence of his future, which alone can establish the safety and happiness of the race, substituting blind confidence in his destiny, unclouded faith in the essentially respectful attitude of the universe toward his moral code, and a belief no less firm that his traditions and laws and institutions necessarily contain permanent qualities of reality. --WILLIAM TROTTER. 

3. ON VARIOUS KINDS OF THINKING

The truest and most profound observations on Intelligence have in thepast been made by the poets and, in recent times, by story-writers. They have been keen observers and recorders and reckoned freely withthe emotions and sentiments. Most philosophers, on the other hand, have exhibited a grotesque ignorance of man's life and have built upsystems that are elaborate and imposing, but quite unrelated to actualhuman affairs. They have almost consistently neglected the actualprocess of thought and have set the mind off as something apart to bestudied by itself. _But no such mind, exempt from bodily processes, animal impulses, savage traditions, infantile impressions, conventionalreactions, and traditional knowledge, ever existed_, even in the caseof the most abstract of metaphysicians. Kant entitled his great work_A Critique of Pure Reason_. But to the modern student of mind purereason seems as mythical as the pure gold, transparent as glass, withwhich the celestial city is paved. 

Formerly philosophers thought of mind as having to do exclusively withconscious thought. It was that within man which perceived, remembered, judged, reasoned, understood, believed, willed. But of late it hasbeen shown that we are unaware of a great part of what we perceive, remember, will, and infer; and that a great part of the thinking ofwhich we are aware is determined by that of which we are not conscious. It has indeed been demonstrated that our unconscious psychic life faroutruns our conscious. This seems perfectly natural to anyone whoconsiders the following facts:

The sharp distinction between the mind and the body is, as we shallfind, a very ancient and spontaneous uncritical savage prepossession. What we think of as "mind" is so intimately associated with what wecall "body" that we are coming to realize that the one cannot beunderstood without the other. Every thought reverberates through thebody, and, on the other hand, alterations in our physical conditionaffect our whole attitude of mind. The insufficient elimination of thefoul and decaying products of digestion may plunge us into deepmelancholy, whereas a few whiffs of nitrous monoxide may exalt us tothe seventh heaven of supernal knowledge and godlike complacency. Andvice versa, a sudden word or thought may cause our heart to jump, check our breathing, or make our knees as water. There is a whole newliterature growing up which studies the effects of our bodilysecretions and our muscular tensions and their relation to ouremotions and our thinking. 

Then there are hidden impulses and desires and secret longings ofwhich we can only with the greatest difficulty take account. Theyinfluence our conscious thought in the most bewildering fashion. Manyof these unconscious influences appear to originate in our very earlyyears. The older philosophers seem to have forgotten that even theywere infants and children at their most impressionable age and nevercould by any possibility get over it. 

The term "unconscious", now so familiar to all readers of modern workson psychology, gives offense to some adherents of the past. Thereshould, however, be no special mystery about it. It is not a newanimistic abstraction, but simply a collective word to include all thephysiological changes which escape our notice, all the forgottenexperiences and impressions of the past which continue to influenceour desires and reflections and conduct, even if we cannot rememberthem. What we can remember at any time is indeed an infinitesimal partof what has happened to us. We could not remember anything unless weforgot almost everything. As Bergson says, the brain is the organ offorgetfulness as well as of memory. Moreover, we tend, of course, tobecome oblivious to things to which we are thoroughly accustomed, forhabit blinds us to their existence. So the forgotten and the habitualmake up a great part of the so-called "unconscious". 

If we are ever to understand man, his conduct and reasoning, and if weaspire to learn to guide his life and his relations with his fellowsmore happily than heretofore, we cannot neglect the great discoveriesbriefly noted above. We must reconcile ourselves to novel andrevolutionary conceptions of the mind, for it is clear that the olderphilosophers, whose works still determine our current views, had avery superficial notion of the subject with which they dealt. But forour purposes, with due regard to what has just been said and to muchthat has necessarily been left unsaid (and with the indulgence ofthose who will at first be inclined to dissent), _we shall considermind chiefly as conscious knowledge and intelligence, as what we knowand our attitude toward it--our disposition to increase ourinformation, classify it, criticize it and apply it_. 

We do not think enough about thinking, and much of our confusion isthe result of current illusions in regard to it. Let us forget for themoment any impressions we may have derived from the philosophers, andsee what seems to happen in ourselves. The first thing that we noticeis that our thought moves with such incredible rapidity that it isalmost impossible to arrest any specimen of it long enough to have alook at it. When we are offered a penny for our thoughts we alwaysfind that we have recently had so many things in mind that we caneasily make a selection which will not compromise us too nakedly. Oninspection we shall find that even if we are not downright ashamed ofa great part of our spontaneous thinking it is far too intimate, personal, ignoble or trivial to permit us to reveal more than a smallpart of it. I believe this must be true of everyone. We do not, ofcourse, know what goes on in other people's heads. They tell us verylittle and we tell them very little. The spigot of speech, rarelyfully opened, could never emit more than driblets of the ever renewedhogshead of thought--_noch grösser wie's Heidelberger Fass_. Wefind it hard to believe that other people's thoughts are as silly asour own, but they probably are. 

We all appear to ourselves to be thinking all the time during ourwaking hours, and most of us are aware that we go on thinking while weare asleep, even more foolishly than when awake. When uninterrupted bysome practical issue we are engaged in what is now known as a _reverie_. This is our spontaneous and favorite kind of thinking. We allow ourideas to take their own course and this course is determined by ourhopes and fears, our spontaneous desires, their fulfillment orfrustration; by our likes and dislikes, our loves and hates andresentments. There is nothing else anything like so interesting toourselves as ourselves. All thought that is not more or lesslaboriously controlled and directed will inevitably circle about thebeloved Ego. It is amusing and pathetic to observe this tendency inourselves and in others. We learn politely and generously to overlookthis truth, but if we dare to think of it, it blazes forth like thenoontide sun. 

The reverie or "free association of ideas" has of late become thesubject of scientific research. While investigators are not yet agreedon the results, or at least on the proper interpretation to be givento them, there can be no doubt that our reveries form the chief indexto our fundamental character. They are a reflection of our nature asmodified by often hidden and forgotten experiences. We need not gointo the matter further here, for it is only necessary to observe thatthe reverie is at all times a potent and in many cases an omnipotentrival to every other kind of thinking. It doubtless influences all ourspeculations in its persistent tendency to self-magnification andself-justification, which are its chief preoccupations, but it is thelast thing to make directly or indirectly for honest increase ofknowledge. [2] Philosophers usually talk as if such thinking did notexist or were in some way negligible. This is what makes theirspeculations so unreal and often worthless. The reverie, as any of uscan see for himself, is frequently broken and interrupted by thenecessity of a second kind of thinking. We have to make practicaldecisions. Shall we write a letter or no? Shall we take the subway ora bus? Shall we have dinner at seven or half past? Shall we buy U. S. Rubber or a Liberty Bond? Decisions are easily distinguishable fromthe free flow of the reverie. Sometimes they demand a good deal ofcareful pondering and the recollection of pertinent facts; often, however, they are made impulsively. They are a more difficult andlaborious thing than the reverie, and we resent having to "make up ourmind" when we are tired, or absorbed in a congenial reverie. Weighinga decision, it should be noted, does not necessarily add anything toour knowledge, although we may, of course, seek further informationbefore making it. 

4. RATIONALIZING

A third kind of thinking is stimulated when anyone questions ourbelief and opinions. We sometimes find ourselves changing our mindswithout any resistance or heavy emotion, but if we are told that weare wrong we resent the imputation and harden our hearts. We areincredibly heedless in the formation of our beliefs, but findourselves filled with an illicit passion for them when anyone proposesto rob us of their companionship. It is obviously not the ideasthemselves that are dear to us, but our self-esteem, which isthreatened. We are by nature stubbornly pledged to defend our own fromattack, whether it be our person, our family, our property, or ouropinion. A United States Senator once remarked to a friend of minethat God Almighty could not make him change his mind on ourLatin-America policy. We may surrender, but rarely confess ourselvesvanquished. In the intellectual world at least peace is withoutvictory. 

Few of us take the pains to study the origin of our cherishedconvictions; indeed, we have a natural repugnance to so doing. We liketo continue to believe what we have been accustomed to accept as true, and the resentment aroused when doubt is cast upon any of ourassumptions leads us to seek every manner of excuse for clinging tothem. _The result is that most of our so-called reasoning consists infinding arguments for going on believing as we already do_. 

I remember years ago attending a public dinner to which the Governorof the state was bidden. The chairman explained that His Excellencycould not be present for certain "good" reasons; what the "real"reasons were the presiding officer said he would leave us toconjecture. This distinction between "good" and "real" reasons is oneof the most clarifying and essential in the whole realm of thought. Wecan readily give what seem to us "good" reasons for being a Catholicor a Mason, a Republican or a Democrat, an adherent or opponent of theLeague of Nations. But the "real" reasons are usually on quite adifferent plane. Of course the importance of this distinction ispopularly, if somewhat obscurely, recognized. The Baptist missionaryis ready enough to see that the Buddhist is not such because hisdoctrines would bear careful inspection, but because he happened to beborn in a Buddhist family in Tokio. But it would be treason to hisfaith to acknowledge that his own partiality for certain doctrines isdue to the fact that his mother was a member of the First Baptistchurch of Oak Ridge. A savage can give all sorts of reasons for hisbelief that it is dangerous to step on a man's shadow, and a newspapereditor can advance plenty of arguments against the Bolsheviki. Butneither of them may realize why he happens to be defending hisparticular opinion. 

The "real" reasons for our beliefs are concealed from ourselves aswell as from others. As we grow up we simply adopt the ideas presentedto us in regard to such matters as religion, family relations, property, business, our country, and the state. We unconsciouslyabsorb them from our environment. They are persistently whispered inour ear by the group in which we happen to live. Moreover, as Mr. Trotter has pointed out, these judgments, being the product ofsuggestion and not of reasoning, have the quality of perfectobviousness, so that to question them

 ... Is to the believer to carry skepticism to an insane degree, and will be met by contempt, disapproval, or condemnation, according to the nature of the belief in question. When, therefore, we find ourselves entertaining an opinion about the basis of which there is a quality of feeling which tells us that to inquire into it would be absurd, obviously unnecessary, unprofitable, undesirable, bad form, or wicked, we may know that that opinion is a nonrational one, and probably, therefore, founded upon inadequate evidence. [3]

Opinions, on the other hand, which are the result of experience or ofhonest reasoning do not have this quality of "primary certitude". Iremember when as a youth I heard a group of business men discussingthe question of the immortality of the soul, I was outraged by thesentiment of doubt expressed by one of the party. As I look back now Isee that I had at the time no interest in the matter, and certainly noleast argument to urge in favor of the belief in which I had beenreared. But neither my personal indifference to the issue, nor thefact that I had previously given it no attention, served to prevent anangry resentment when I heard _my_ ideas questioned. 

This spontaneous and loyal support of our preconceptions--this processof finding "good" reasons to justify our routine beliefs--is known tomodern psychologists as "rationalizing"--clearly only a new name for avery ancient thing. Our "good" reasons ordinarily have no value inpromoting honest enlightenment, because, no matter how solemnly theymay be marshaled, they are at bottom the result of personal preferenceor prejudice, and not of an honest desire to seek or accept newknowledge. 

In our reveries we are frequently engaged in self-justification, forwe cannot bear to think ourselves wrong, and yet have constantillustrations of our weaknesses and mistakes. So we spend much timefinding fault with circumstances and the conduct of others, andshifting on to them with great ingenuity the on us of our own failuresand disappointments. _Rationalizing is the self-exculpation whichoccurs when we feel ourselves, or our group, accused ofmisapprehension or error. _

The little word _my_ is the most important one in all human affairs, and properly to reckon with it is the beginning of wisdom. It has thesame force whether it is _my_ dinner, _my_ dog, and _my_ house, or _my_ faith, _my_ country, and _my God_. We not only resent theimputation that our watch is wrong, or our car shabby, but that ourconception of the canals of Mars, of the pronunciation of "Epictetus", of the medicinal value of salicine, or the date of Sargon I, aresubject to revision. 

Philosophers, scholars, and men of science exhibit a commonsensitiveness in all decisions in which their _amour propre_ isinvolved. Thousands of argumentative works have been written to vent agrudge. However stately their reasoning, it may be nothing butrationalizing, stimulated by the most commonplace of all motives. A history of philosophy and theology could be written in terms ofgrouches, wounded pride, and aversions, and it would be far moreinstructive than the usual treatments of these themes. Sometimes, under Providence, the lowly impulse of resentment leads to greatachievements. Milton wrote his treatise on divorce as a result of histroubles with his seventeen-year-old wife, and when he was accused ofbeing the leading spirit in a new sect, the Divorcers, he wrote hisnoble _Areopagitica_ to prove his right to say what he thought fit, and incidentally to establish the advantage of a free press in thepromotion of Truth. 

All mankind, high and low, thinks in all the ways which have beendescribed. The reverie goes on all the time not only in the mind ofthe mill hand and the Broadway flapper, but equally in weighty judgesand godly bishops. It has gone on in all the philosophers, scientists, poets, and theologians that have ever lived. Aristotle's most abstrusespeculations were doubtless tempered by highly irrelevant reflections. He is reported to have had very thin legs and small eyes, for which hedoubtless had to find excuses, and he was wont to indulge in veryconspicuous dress and rings and was accustomed to arrange his haircarefully. [4] Diogenes the Cynic exhibited the impudence of a touchysoul. His tub was his distinction. Tennyson in beginning his "Maud"could not forget his chagrin over losing his patrimony years before asthe result of an unhappy investment in the Patent Decorative CarvingCompany. These facts are not recalled here as a gratuitousdisparagement of the truly great, but to insure a full realization ofthe tremendous competition which all really exacting thought has toface, even in the minds of the most highly endowed mortals. 

And now the astonishing and perturbing suspicion emerges that perhapsalmost all that had passed for social science, political economy, politics, and ethics in the past may be brushed aside by futuregenerations as mainly rationalizing. John Dewey has already reachedthis conclusion in regard to philosophy. [5] Veblen[6] and otherwriters have revealed the various unperceived presuppositions of thetraditional political economy, and now comes an Italian sociologist, Vilfredo Pareto, who, in his huge treatise on general sociology, devotes hundreds of pages to substantiating a similar thesis affectingall the social sciences. [7] This conclusion may be ranked by studentsof a hundred years hence as one of the several great discoveries ofour age. It is by no means fully worked out, and it is so opposed tonature that it will be very slowly accepted by the great mass of thosewho consider themselves thoughtful. As a historical student I ampersonally fully reconciled to this newer view. Indeed, it seems to meinevitable that just as the various sciences of nature were, beforethe opening of the seventeenth century, largely masses ofrationalizations to suit the religious sentiments of the period, sothe social sciences have continued even to our own day to berationalizations of uncritically accepted beliefs and customs. 

_It will become apparent as we proceed that the fact that an idea isancient and that it has been widely received is no argument in itsfavor, but should immediately suggest the necessity of carefullytesting it as a probable instance of rationalization_. 

5. HOW CREATIVE THOUGHT TRANSFORMS THE WORLD

This brings us to another kind of thought which can fairly easily bedistinguished from the three kinds described above. It has not theusual qualities of the reverie, for it does not hover about ourpersonal complacencies and humiliations. It is not made up of thehomely decisions forced upon us by everyday needs, when we review ourlittle stock of existing information, consult our conventionalpreferences and obligations, and make a choice of action. It is notthe defense of our own cherished beliefs and prejudices just becausethey are our own--mere plausible excuses for remaining of the samemind. On the contrary, it is that peculiar species of thought whichleads us to _change_ our mind. 

It is this kind of thought that has raised man from his pristine, subsavage ignorance and squalor to the degree of knowledge and comfortwhich he now possesses. On his capacity to continue and greatly extendthis kind of thinking depends his chance of groping his way out of theplight in which the most highly civilized peoples of the world nowfind themselves. In the past this type of thinking has been calledReason. But so many misapprehensions have grown up around the wordthat some of us have become very suspicious of it. I suggest, therefore, that we substitute a recent name and speak of "creativethought" rather than of Reason. _For this kind of meditation begetsknowledge, and knowledge is really creative inasmuch as it makesthings look different from what they seemed before and may indeed workfor their reconstruction_. 

In certain moods some of us realize that we are observing things ormaking reflections with a seeming disregard of our personalpreoccupations. We are not preening or defending ourselves; we are notfaced by the necessity of any practical decision, nor are weapologizing for believing this or that. We are just wondering andlooking and mayhap seeing what we never perceived before. 

Curiosity is as clear and definite as any of our urges. We wonder whatis in a sealed telegram or in a letter in which some one else isabsorbed, or what is being said in the telephone booth or in lowconversation. This inquisitiveness is vastly stimulated by jealousy, suspicion, or any hint that we ourselves are directly or indirectlyinvolved. But there appears to be a fair amount of personal interestin other people's affairs even when they do not concern us except as amystery to be unraveled or a tale to be told. The reports of a divorcesuit will have "news value" for many weeks. They constitute a story, like a novel or play or moving picture. This is not an example of purecuriosity, however, since we readily identify ourselves with others, and their joys and despair then become our own. 

We also take note of, or "observe", as Sherlock Holmes says, thingswhich have nothing to do with our personal interests and make nopersonal appeal either direct or by way of sympathy. This is whatVeblen so well calls "idle curiosity". And it is usually idle enough. Some of us when we face the line of people opposite us in a subwaytrain impulsively consider them in detail and engage in rapidinferences and form theories in regard to them. On entering a roomthere are those who will perceive at a glance the degree ofpreciousness of the rugs, the character of the pictures, and thepersonality revealed by the books. But there are many, it would seem, who are so absorbed in their personal reverie or in some definitepurpose that they have no bright-eyed energy for idle curiosity. Thetendency to miscellaneous observation we come by honestly enough, forwe note it in many of our animal relatives. 

Veblen, however, uses the term "idle curiosity" somewhat ironically, as is his wont. It is idle only to those who fail to realize that itmay be a very rare and indispensable thing from which almost alldistinguished human achievement proceeds. Since it may lead tosystematic examination and seeking for things hitherto undiscovered. For research is but diligent search which enjoys the high flavor ofprimitive hunting. Occasionally and fitfully idle curiosity thus leadsto creative thought, which alters and broadens our own views andaspirations and may in turn, under highly favorable circumstances, affect the views and lives of others, even for generations to follow. An example or two will make this unique human process clear. 

Galileo was a thoughtful youth and doubtless carried on a rich andvaried reverie. He had artistic ability and might have turned out tobe a musician or painter. When he had dwelt among the monks atValambrosa he had been tempted to lead the life of a religious. As aboy he busied himself with toy machines and he inherited a fondnessfor mathematics. All these facts are of record. We may safely assumealso that, along with many other subjects of contemplation, the Pisanmaidens found a vivid place in his thoughts. 

One day when seventeen years old he wandered into the cathedral of hisnative town. In the midst of his reverie he looked up at the lampshanging by long chains from the high ceiling of the church. Thensomething very difficult to explain occurred. He found himself nolonger thinking of the building, worshipers, or the services; of hisartistic or religious interests; of his reluctance to become aphysician as his father wished. He forgot the question of a career andeven the _graziosissime donne_. As he watched the swinging lamps hewas suddenly wondering if mayhap their oscillations, whether long orshort, did not occupy the same time. Then he tested this hypothesis bycounting his pulse, for that was the only timepiece he had with him. 

This observation, however remarkable in itself, was not enough toproduce a really creative thought. Others may have noticed the samething and yet nothing came of it. Most of our observations have noassignable results. Galileo may have seen that the warts on apeasant's face formed a perfect isosceles triangle, or he may havenoticed with boyish glee that just as the officiating priest wasuttering the solemn words, _ecce agnus Dei_, a fly lit on the end ofhis nose. To be really creative, ideas have to be worked up and then"put over", so that they become a part of man's social heritage. Thehighly accurate pendulum clock was one of the later results ofGalileo's discovery. He himself was led to reconsider and successfullyto refute the old notions of falling bodies. It remained for Newton toprove that the moon was falling, and presumably all the heavenlybodies. This quite upset all the consecrated views of the heavens asmanaged by angelic engineers. The universality of the laws ofgravitation stimulated the attempt to seek other and equally importantnatural laws and cast grave doubts on the miracles in which mankindhad hitherto believed. In short, those who dared to include in theirthought the discoveries of Galileo and his successors found themselvesin a new earth surrounded by new heavens. 

On the 28th of October, 1831, three hundred and fifty years afterGalileo had noticed the isochronous vibrations of the lamps, creativethought and its currency had so far increased that Faraday waswondering what would happen if he mounted a disk of copper between thepoles of a horseshoe magnet. As the disk revolved an electric currentwas produced. This would doubtless have seemed the idlest kind of anexperiment to the stanch business men of the time, who, it happened, were just then denouncing the child-labor bills in their anxiety toavail themselves to the full of the results of earlier idle curiosity. But should the dynamos and motors which have come into being as theoutcome of Faraday's experiment be stopped this evening, the businessman of to-day, agitated over labor troubles, might, as he trudged homepast lines of "dead" cars, through dark streets to an unlighted house, engage in a little creative thought of his own and perceive that heand his laborers would have no modern factories and mines to quarrelabout had it not been for the strange practical effects of the idlecuriosity of scientists, inventors, and engineers. 

The examples of creative intelligence given above belong to the realmof modern scientific achievement, which furnishes the most strikinginstances of the effects of scrupulous, objective thinking. But thereare, of course, other great realms in which the recording andembodiment of acute observation and insight have wrought themselvesinto the higher life of man. The great poets and dramatists and ourmodern story-tellers have found themselves engaged in productivereveries, noting and artistically presenting their discoveries for thedelight and instruction of those who have the ability to appreciatethem. 

The process by which a fresh and original poem or drama comes intobeing is doubtless analogous to that which originates and elaboratesso-called scientific discoveries; but there is clearly a temperamentaldifference. The genesis and advance of painting, sculpture, and musicoffer still other problems. We really as yet know shockingly littleabout these matters, and indeed very few people have the leastcuriosity about them. [8] Nevertheless, creative intelligence in itsvarious forms and activities is what makes man. Were it not for itsslow, painful, and constantly discouraged operations through the agesman would be no more than a species of primate living on seeds, fruit, roots, and uncooked flesh, and wandering naked through the woods andover the plains like a chimpanzee. 

The origin and progress and future promotion of civilization are illunderstood and misconceived. These should be made the chief theme ofeducation, but much hard work is necessary before we can reconstructour ideas of man and his capacities and free ourselves frominnumerable persistent misapprehensions. There have beenobstructionists in all times, not merely the lethargic masses, butthe moralists, the rationalizing theologians, and most of thephilosophers, all busily if unconsciously engaged in ratifyingexisting ignorance and mistakes and discouraging creative thought. Naturally, those who reassure us seem worthy of honor and respect. Equally naturally those who puzzle us with disturbing criticisms andinvite us to change our ways are objects of suspicion and readilydiscredited. Our personal discontent does not ordinarily extend to anycritical questioning of the general situation in which we findourselves. In every age the prevailing conditions of civilization haveappeared quite natural and inevitable to those who grew up in them. The cow asks no questions as to how it happens to have a dry stall anda supply of hay. The kitten laps its warm milk from a china saucer, without knowing anything about porcelain; the dog nestles in thecorner of a divan with no sense of obligation to the inventors ofupholstery and the manufacturers of down pillows. So we humans acceptour breakfasts, our trains and telephones and orchestras and movies, our national Constitution, or moral code and standards of manners, with the simplicity and innocence of a pet rabbit. We have absolutelyinexhaustible capacities for appropriating what others do for us withno thought of a "thank you". We do not feel called upon to make anyleast contribution to the merry game ourselves. Indeed, we are usuallyquite unaware that a game is being played at all. 

We have now examined the various classes of thinking which we canreadily observe in ourselves and which we have plenty of reasons tobelieve go on, and always have been going on, in our fellow-men. Wecan sometimes get quite pure and sparkling examples of all four kinds, but commonly they are so confused and intermingled in our reverie asnot to be readily distinguishable. The reverie is a reflection of ourlongings, exultations, and complacencies, our fears, suspicions, anddisappointments. We are chiefly engaged in struggling to maintain ourself-respect and in asserting that supremacy which we all crave andwhich seems to us our natural prerogative. It is not strange, butrather quite inevitable, that our beliefs about what is true andfalse, good and bad, right and wrong, should be mixed up with thereverie and be influenced by the same considerations which determineits character and course. We resent criticisms of our views exactly aswe do of anything else connected with ourselves. Our notions of lifeand its ideals seem to us to be _our own_ and as such necessarily trueand right, to be defended at all costs. 

_We very rarely consider, however, the process by which we gained ourconvictions_. If we did so, we could hardly fail to see that there wasusually little ground for our confidence in them. Here and there, inthis department of knowledge or that, some one of us might make a fairclaim to have taken some trouble to get correct ideas of, let us say, the situation in Russia, the sources of our food supply, the origin ofthe Constitution, the revision of the tariff, the policy of the HolyRoman Apostolic Church, modern business organization, trade unions, birth control, socialism, the League of Nations, the excess-profitstax, preparedness, advertising in its social bearings; but only a veryexceptional person would be entitled to opinions on all of even thesefew matters. And yet most of us have opinions on all these, and onmany other questions of equal importance, of which we may know evenless. We feel compelled, as self-respecting persons, to take sideswhen they come up for discussion. We even surprise ourselves by ouromniscience. Without taking thought we see in a flash that it is mostrighteous and expedient to discourage birth control by legislativeenactment, or that one who decries intervention in Mexico is clearlywrong, or that big advertising is essential to big business and thatbig business is the pride of the land. As godlike beings why should wenot rejoice in our omniscience?

It is clear, in any case, that our convictions on important mattersare not the result of knowledge or critical thought, nor, it may beadded, are they often dictated by supposed self-interest. Most of themare _pure prejudices_ in the proper sense of that word. We do not formthem ourselves. They are the whisperings of "the voice of the herd". We have in the last analysis no responsibility for them and needassume none. They are not really our own ideas, but those of others nomore well informed or inspired than ourselves, who have got them inthe same careless and humiliating manner as we. It should be our prideto revise our ideas and not to adhere to what passes for respectableopinion, for such opinion can frequently be shown to be not respectableat all. We should, in view of the considerations that have beenmentioned, resent our supine credulity. As an English writer hasremarked:

"If we feared the entertaining of an unverifiable opinion with thewarmth with which we fear using the wrong implement at the dinnertable, if the thought of holding a prejudice disgusted us as does afoul disease, then the dangers of man's suggestibility would be turnedinto advantages. "[9]

The purpose of this essay is to set forth briefly the way in which thenotions of the herd have been accumulated. This seems to me the best, easiest, and least invidious educational device for cultivating aproper distrust for the older notions on which we still continue torely. 

The "real" reasons, which explain how it is we happen to hold aparticular belief, are chiefly historical. Our most importantopinions--those, for example, having to do with traditional, religious, and moral convictions, property rights, patriotism, national honor, the state, and indeed all the assumed foundations ofsociety--are, as I have already suggested, rarely the result ofreasoned consideration, but of unthinking absorption from the socialenvironment in which we live. Consequently, they have about them aquality of "elemental certitude", and we especially resent doubt orcriticism cast upon them. So long, however, as we revere thewhisperings of the herd, we are obviously unable to examine themdispassionately and to consider to what extent they are suited to thenovel conditions and social exigencies in which we find ourselvesto-day. 

The "real" reasons for our beliefs, by making clear their origins andhistory, can do much to dissipate this emotional blockade and rid usof our prejudices and preconceptions. Once this is done and we comecritically to examine our traditional beliefs, we may well find someof them sustained by experience and honest reasoning, while othersmust be revised to meet new conditions and our more extendedknowledge. But only after we have undertaken such a criticalexamination in the light of experience and modern knowledge, freedfrom any feeling of "primary certitude", can we claim that the "good"are also the "real" reasons for our opinions. 

I do not flatter myself that this general show-up of man's thoughtthrough the ages will cure myself or others of carelessness inadopting ideas, or of unseemly heat in defending them just because wehave adopted them. But if the considerations which I propose to recallare really incorporated into our thinking and are permitted toestablish our general outlook on human affairs, they will do much torelieve the imaginary obligation we feel in regard to traditionalsentiments and ideals. Few of us are capable of engaging in creativethought, but some of us can at least come to distinguish it from otherand inferior kinds of thought and accord to it the esteem that itmerits as the greatest treasure of the past and the only hope of thefuture. 

NOTES. 

[2] The poet-clergyman, John Donne, who lived in the time of James I, has given a beautifully honest picture of the doings of a saint'smind: "I throw myself down in my chamber and call in and invite Godand His angels thither, and when they are there I neglect God and Hisangels for the noise of a fly, for the rattling of a coach, for thewhining of a door. I talk on in the same posture of praying, eyeslifted up, knees bowed down, as though I prayed to God, and if God orHis angels should ask me when I thought last of God in that prayer Icannot tell. Sometimes I find that I had forgot what I was about, butwhen I began to forget it I cannot tell. A memory of yesterday'spleasures, a fear of to-morrow's dangers, a straw under my knee, anoise in mine ear, a light in mine eye, an anything, a nothing, afancy, a chimera in my brain troubles me in my prayer. "--Quoted byROBERT LYND, _The Art of Letters_, pp. 46-47. 

[3] Instincts of the Herd, p. 44. 

[4] Diogenes Laertius, book v. 

[5] _Reconstruction in Philosophy_. 

[6] _The Place of Science in Modern Civilization. _

[7] _Traité de Sociologie Générale, passim. _ The author's term"_derivations_" seems to be his precise way of expressing what we havecalled the "good" reasons, and his "_residus_" correspond to the"real" reasons. He well says, _"L'homme éprouve le besoin deraisonner, et en outre d'étendre un voile sur ses instincts et sur sessentiments"_--hence, rationalization. (P. 788. ) His aim is to reducesociology to the "real" reasons. (P. 791. )

[8] Recently a re-examination of creative thought has begun as aresult of new knowledge which discredits many of the notions formerlyheld about "reason". See, for example, _Creative Intelligence_, by agroup of American philosophic thinkers; John Dewey, _Essays inExperimental Logic_ (both pretty hard books); and Veblen, _The Placeof Science in Modern Civilization_. Easier than these and verystimulating are Dewey, _Reconstruction in Philosophy_, and Woodworth, _Dynamic Psychology_. 

[9] Trotter, _op. Cit. _, p. 45. The first part of this little volumeis excellent. 

 * * * * *

III

 Nous étions déjà si vieux quand nous sommes nés. --ANATOLE FRANCE. 

 Simia quam similis, turpissima bestia, nobis?--ENNIUS. 

 Tous les homines se ressemblent si fort qu'il n'y a point de peuple dont les sottises ne nous doivent faire trembler. --FONTENELLE. 

 The savage is very close to us indeed, both in his physical and mental make-up and in the forms of his social life. Tribal society is virtually delayed civilization, and the savages are a sort of contemporaneous ancestry. --WILLIAM I. THOMAS. 

6. OUR ANIMAL HERITAGE. THE NATURE OF CIVILIZATION

There are four historical layers underlying the minds of civilizedmen--the animal mind, the child mind, the savage mind, and thetraditional civilized mind. We are all animals and never can cease tobe; we were all children at our most impressionable age and can neverget over the effects of that; our human ancestors have lived insavagery during practically the whole existence of the race, say fivehundred thousand or a million years, and the primitive human mind isever with us; finally, we are all born into an elaborate civilization, the constant pressure of which we can by no means escape. 

Each of these underlying minds has its special sciences andappropriate literatures. The new discipline of animal or comparativepsychology deals with the first; genetic and analytical psychologywith the second;[10] anthropology, ethnology, and comparative religionwith the third; and the history of philosophy, science, theology, andliterature with the fourth. 

We may grow beyond these underlying minds and in the light of newknowledge we may criticize their findings and even persuade ourselvesthat we have successfully transcended them. But if we are fair withourselves we shall find that their hold on us is really inexorable. Wecan only transcend them artificially and precariously and in certainhighly favorable conditions. Depression, anger, fear, or ordinaryirritation will speedily prove the insecurity of any structure that wemanage to rear on our fourfold foundation. Such fundamental and vitalpreoccupations as religion, love, war, and the chase stir impulsesthat lie far back in human history and which effectually repudiate thecavilings of ratiocination. 

In all our reveries and speculations, even the most exacting, sophisticated, and disillusioned, we have three unsympatheticcompanions sticking closer than a brother and looking on with jealousimpatience--our wild apish progenitor, a playful or peevish baby, anda savage. We may at any moment find ourselves overtaken with a warmsense of camaraderie for any or all of these ancient pals of ours, andexperience infinite relief in once more disporting ourselves with themas of yore. Some of us have in addition a Greek philosopher or man ofletters in us; some a neoplatonic mystic, some a mediaeval monk, allof whom have learned to make terms with their older playfellows. 

Before retracing the way in which the mind as we now find it inso-called intelligent people has been accumulated, we may take time totry to see what civilization is and why man alone can becomecivilized. For the mind has expanded _pari passu_ with civilization, and without civilization there would, I venture to conjecture, havebeen no human mind in the commonly accepted sense of that term. 

It is now generally conceded by all who have studied the variedevidence and have freed themselves from ancient prejudice that, if wetraced back our human lineage far enough we should come to a pointwhere our human ancestors had no civilization and lived a speechless, naked, houseless, fireless, and toolless life, similar to that of theexisting primates with which we are zoologically closely connected. 

This is one of the most fully substantiated of historical facts andone which we can never neglect in our attempts to explain man as henow is. We are all descended from the lower animals. We arefurthermore still animals with not only an animal body, but with ananimal mind. And this animal body and animal mind are the originalfoundations on which even the most subtle and refined intellectuallife must perforce rest. 

We are ready to classify certain of our most essential desires asbrutish--hunger and thirst, the urgence of sleep, and especiallysexual longing. We know of blind animal rage, of striking, biting, scratching, howling, and snarling, of irrational fears and ignominiousflight. We share our senses with the higher animals, have eyes andears, noses and tongues much like theirs; heart, lungs, and otherviscera, and four limbs. They have brains which stand them in goodstead, although their heads are not so good as ours. But when onespeaks of the animal mind he should think of still other resemblancesbetween the brute and man. 

All animals learn--even the most humble among them may gain somethingfrom experience. All the higher animals exhibit curiosity undercertain circumstances, and it is this impulse which underlies allhuman science. 

Moreover, some of the higher animals, especially the apes and monkeys, are much given to fumbling and groping. They are restless, easilybored, and spontaneously experimental. They therefore make discoveriesquite unconsciously, and form new and sometimes profitable habits ofaction. If, by mere fumbling, a monkey, cat, or dog happens on a wayto secure food, this remunerative line of conduct will "occur" to thecreature when he feels hungry. This is what Thorndike has namedlearning by "trial and error". It might better be called "fumbling andsuccess", for it is the success that establishes the association. Theinnate curiosity which man shares with his uncivilized zoologicalrelatives is the native impulse that leads to scientific andphilosophical speculation, and the original fumbling of a restless apehas become the ordered experimental investigation of modern times. Acreature which lacked curiosity and had no tendency to fumble couldnever have developed civilization and human intelligence. [l0]

But why did man alone of all the animals become civilized? The reasonis not far to seek, although it has often escaped writers[11] on thesubject. All animals gain a certain wisdom with age and experience, but the experience of one ape does not profit another. Learning amonganimals below man is _individual_, not _co-operative_ and _cumulative_. One dog does not seem to learn from another, nor one ape from another, in spite of the widespread misapprehension in this regard. Manyexperiments have been patiently tried in recent years and it seems tobe pretty well established that the monkey learns by _monkeying_, butthat he rarely or never appears to _ape_. He does not learn by imitation, because he does not imitate. There may be minor exceptions, but the factthat apes never, in spite of a bodily equipment nearly human, become inthe least degree civilized, would seem to show that the accumulation ofknowledge or dexterity through imitation is impossible for them. 

Man has the various sense organs of the apes and their extraordinarypower of manipulation. To these essentials he adds a brainsufficiently more elaborate than that of the chimpanzee to enable himto do something that the ape cannot do--namely, "see" things clearlyenough to form associations through imitation. [12]

We can imagine the manner in which man unwittingly took one of hismomentous and unprecedented first steps in civilization. Some restlessprimeval savage might find himself scraping the bark off a stick withthe edge of a stone or shell and finally cutting into the wood andbringing the thing to a point. He might then spy an animal and, quitewithout reasoning, impulsively make a thrust with the stick anddiscover that it pierced the creature. If he could hold these variouselements in the situation, sharpening the stick and using it, he wouldhave made an invention--a rude spear. A particularly acute bystandermight comprehend and imitate the process. If others did so and thehabit was established in the tribe so that it became traditional andwas transmitted to following generations, the process of civilizationwould have begun--also the process of human learning, which isnoticing distinctions and analyzing situations. This simple process ofsharpening a stick would involve the "concepts", as the philosopherssay, of a tool and bark and a point and an artificial weapon. But agesand ages were to elapse before the botanist would distinguish thevarious layers which constitute the bark, or successive experimenterscome upon the idea of a bayonet to take the place of the spear. 

Of late, considerable attention has been given to the question ofman's original, uneducated, animal nature; what resources has he as amere creature independent of any training that results from beingbrought up in some sort of civilized community? The question isdifficult to formulate satisfactorily and still more difficult toanswer. But without attempting to list man's supposed natural"instincts" we must assume that civilization is built up on hisoriginal propensities and impulses, whatever they may be. Theseprobably remain nearly the same from generation to generation. Theidea formerly held that the civilization of our ancestors affects ouroriginal nature is almost completely surrendered. _We are all bornwholly uncivilized. _

If a group of infants from the "best" families of to-day could bereared by apes they would find themselves with no civilization. Howlong it would take them and their children to gain what now passes foreven a low savage culture it is impossible to say. The whole arduoustask would have to be performed anew and it might not take place atall, unless conditions were favorable, for man is not naturally a"progressive" animal. He shares the tendency of all other animaltribes just to pull through and reproduce his kind. 

Most of us do not stop to think of the conditions of an animalexistence. When we read the descriptions of our nature as given byWilliam James, McDougall, or even Thorndike, with all his reservations, we get a rather impressive idea of our possibilities, not a picture ofuncivilized life. When we go camping we think that we are desertingcivilization, forgetting the sophisticated guides, and the pack horsesladen with the most artificial luxuries, many of which would not havebeen available even a hundred years ago. We lead the simple life withSwedish matches, Brazilian coffee, Canadian bacon, California cannedpeaches, magazine rifles, jointed fishing rods, and electricflashlights. We are elaborately clothed and can discuss Bergson'sviews or D. H. Lawrence's last story. We naïvely imagine we arereturning to "primitive" conditions because we are living out of doorsor sheltered in a less solid abode than usual, and have to go tothe brook for water. 

But man's original estate was, as Hobbes reflected, "poor, nasty, brutish, and short". To live like an animal is to rely upon one's ownquite naked equipment and efforts, and not to mind getting wet or coldor scratching one's bare legs in the underbrush. One would have to eathis roots and seeds quite raw, and gnaw a bird as a cat does. To getthe feel of uncivilized life, let us recall how savages with thecomparatively advanced degree of culture reached by our native Indiantribes may fall to when really hungry. In the journal of the Lewis andClark expedition there is an account of the killing of a deer by thewhite men. Hearing of this, the Shoshones raced wildly to the spotwhere the warm and bloody entrails had been thrown out

 ... And ran tumbling over one another like famished dogs. Each tore away whatever part he could, and instantly began to eat it; some had the liver, some the kidneys, and, in short, no part on which we are accustomed to look with disgust escaped them. One of them who had seized about nine feet of the entrails was chewing at one end, while with his hand he was diligently clearing his way by discharging the contents at the other. 

Another striking example of simple animal procedure is given in thesame journal:

 One of the women, who had been leading two of our pack horses, halted at a rivulet about a mile behind and sent on the two horses by a female friend. On inquiring of Cameahwait the cause of her detention, he answered, with great apparent unconcern, that she had just stopped to lie in, but would soon overtake us. In fact, we were astonished to see her in about an hour's time come on with her new-born infant, and pass us on her way to the camp, seemingly in perfect health. 

This is the simple life and it was the life of our ancestors beforecivilization began. It had been the best kind of life possible in allthe preceding aeons of the world's history. Without civilization itwould be the existence to which all human beings now on the earthwould forthwith revert. It is man's starting point. [13]

But what about the mind? What was going on in the heads of ouruntutored forbears? We are apt to fall into the error of supposingthat because they had human brains they must have had somewhat thesame kinds of ideas and made the same kind of judgments that we do. Even distinguished philosophers like Descartes and Rousseau made thismistake. This assumption will not stand inspection. To reach back inimagination to the really primitive mind we should of course have todeduct at the start all the knowledge and all the discriminations andclassifications that have grown up as a result of our education andour immersion from infancy in a highly artificial environment. Then wemust recollect that our primitive ancestor had no words with which toname and tell about things. He was speechless. His fellows knew nomore than he did. Each one learned during his lifetime according tohis capacity, but no instruction in our sense of the word waspossible. What he saw and heard was not what we should have calledseeing and hearing. He responded to situations in a blind andimpulsive manner, with no clear idea of them. In short, he must have_thought_ much as a wolf or bear does, just as he _lived_ much likethem. 

We must be on our guard against accepting the prevalent notions ofeven the animal intellect. An owl may look quite as wise as a judge. Amonkey, canary, or collie has bright eyes and seems far more alertthan most of the people we see on the street car. A squirrel in thepark appears to be looking at us much as we look at him. But he cannotbe seeing the same things that we do. We can be scarcely more to himthan a vague suggestion of peanuts. And even the peanut has little ofthe meaning for him that it has for us. A dog perceives a motor-carand may be induced to ride in it, but his idea of it would not differfrom that of an ancient carryall, except, mayhap, in an appreciativedistinction between the odor of gasoline and that of the stable. Onlyin times of sickness, drunkenness, or great excitement can we get somehint in ourselves of the impulsive responses in animals free fromhuman sophistication and analysis. 

Locke thought that we first got simple ideas and then combined theminto more complex conceptions and finally into generalizations orabstract ideas. But this is not the way that man's knowledge arose. Hestarted with mere impressions of general situations, and gradually byhis ability to handle things he came upon distinctions, which in timehe made clearer by attaching names to them. 

We keep repeating this process when we learn about anything. Thetypewriter is at first a mere mass impression, and only gradually andimperfectly do most of us distinguish certain of its parts; only themen who made it are likely to realize its full complexity by notingand assigning names to all the levers, wheels, gears, bearings, controls, and adjustments. John Stuart Mill thought that the chieffunction of the mind was making inferences. But making distinctions isequally fundamental--seeing that there are really many things whereonly one was at first apparent. This process of analysis has beenman's supreme accomplishment. This is what has made his mind grow. 

The human mind has then been built up through hundreds of thousands ofyears by gradual accretions and laborious accumulations. Man startedat a cultural zero and had to find out everything for himself; orrather a very small number of peculiarly restless and adventurousspirits did the work. The great mass of humanity has never hadanything to do with the increase of intelligence except to act as itsmedium of transfusion and perpetuation. Creative intelligence isconfined to the very few, but the many can thoughtlessly availthemselves of the more obvious achievements of those who areexceptionally highly endowed. 

Even an ape will fit himself into a civilized environment. Achimpanzee can be taught to relish bicycles, roller skates, andcigarettes which he could never have devised, cannot understand, andcould not reproduce. Even so with mankind. Most of us could not havedevised, do not understand, and consequently could not reproduce anyof the everyday conveniences and luxuries which surround us. Few of uscould make an electric light, or write a good novel to read by it, orpaint a picture for it to shine upon. 

Professor Giddings has recently asked the question, Why has there beenany history?[14] Why, indeed, considering that the "good" and"respectable" is usually synonymous with the ancient routine, and theold have always been there to repress the young? Such heavy words ofapproval as "venerable", "sanctified", and "revered" all suggest greatage rather than fresh discoveries. As it was in the beginning, is nowand ever shall be, is our protest against being disturbed, forced tothink or to change our habits. So history, _namely change_, has beenmainly due to a small number of "seers", --really gropers andmonkeyers--whose native curiosity outran that of their fellows and ledthem to escape here and there from the sanctified blindness of theirtime. 

The seer is simply an example of a _variation_ biologically, such asoccurs in all species of living things, both animal and vegetable. Butthe unusually large roses in our gardens, the swifter horses of theherd, and the cleverer wolf in the pack have no means of influencingtheir fellows as a result of their peculiar superiority. Theiroffspring has some chance of sharing to some degree this pre-eminence, but otherwise things will go on as before. Whereas the singularvariation represented by a St. Francis, a Dante, a Voltaire, or aDarwin may permanently, and for ages to follow change somewhat thecharacter and ambitions of innumerable inferior members of the specieswho could by no possibility have originated anything for themselves, but who can, nevertheless, suffer some modification as a result of theteachings of others. This illustrates the magical and unique workingsof culture and creative intelligence in mankind. [15]

We have no means of knowing when or where the first contribution tocivilization was made, and with it a start on the arduous building ofthe mind. There is some reason to think that the men who firsttranscended the animal mind were of inferior mental capacity to ourown, but even if man, emerging from his animal estate, had had on theaverage quite as good a brain as those with which we are now familiar, I suspect that the extraordinarily slow and hazardous process ofaccumulating modern civilization would not have been greatlyshortened. Mankind is lethargic, easily pledged to routine, timid, suspicious of innovation. That is his nature. He is only artificially, partially, and very recently "progressive". He has spent almost hiswhole existence as a savage hunter, and in that state of ignorance heillustrated on a magnificent scale all the inherent weaknesses of thehuman mind. 

7. OUR SAVAGE MIND

Should we arrange our present beliefs and opinions on the basis oftheir age, we should find that some of them were very, very old, goingback to primitive man; others were derived from the Greeks; many moreof them would prove to come directly from the Middle Ages; whilecertain others in our stock were unknown until natural science beganto develop in a new form about three hundred years ago. The idea thatman has a soul or double which survives the death of the body is veryancient indeed and is accepted by most savages. Such confidence as wehave in the liberal arts, metaphysics, and formal logic goes back tothe Greek thinkers; our religious ideas and our standards of sexualconduct are predominantly mediaeval in their presuppositions; ournotions of electricity and disease germs are, of course, recent inorigin, the result of painful and prolonged research which involvedthe rejection of a vast number of older notions sanctioned byimmemorial acceptance. 

_In general, those ideas which are still almost universally acceptedin regard to man's nature, his proper conduct, and his relations toGod and his fellows are far more ancient and far less critical thanthose which have to do with the movement of the stars, thestratification of the rocks and the life of plants and animals_. 

Nothing is more essential in our attempt to escape from the bondage ofconsecrated ideas than to get a vivid notion of human achievement inits proper historical perspective. In order to do this let us imaginethe whole gradual and laborious attainments of mankind compressed intothe compass of a single lifetime. Let us assume that a singlegeneration of men have in fifty years managed to accumulate all thatnow passes for civilization. They would have to start, as allindividuals do, absolutely uncivilized, and their task would be torecapitulate what has occupied the race for, let us guess, at leastfive hundred thousand years. Each year in the life of a generationwould therefore correspond to ten thousand years in the progress ofthe race. 

On this scale it would require forty-nine years to reach a point ofintelligence which would enable our self-taught generation to give uptheir ancient and inveterate habits of wandering hunters and settledown here and there to till the ground, harvest their crops, domesticate animals, and weave their rough garments. Six months later, or half through the fiftieth year, some of them, in a particularlyfavorable situation, would have invented writing and thus establisheda new and wonderful means of spreading and perpetuating civilization. Three months later another group would have carried literature, art, and philosophy to a high degree of refinement and set standards forthe succeeding weeks. For two months our generation would have beenliving under the blessings of Christianity; the printing press wouldbe but a fortnight old and they would not have had the steam enginefor quite a week. For two or three days they would have been hasteningabout the globe in steamships and railroad trains, and only yesterdaywould they have come upon the magical possibilities of electricity. Within the last few hours they would have learned to sail in the airand beneath the waters, and have forthwith applied their newestdiscoveries to the prosecution of a magnificent war on the scalebefitting their high ideals and new resources. This is not so strange, for only a week ago they were burning and burying alive those whodiffered from the ruling party in regard to salvation, eviscerating inpublic those who had new ideas of government, and hanging old womenwho were accused of traffic with the devil. All of them had been nobetter than vagrant savages a year before. Their fuller knowledge wasaltogether too recent to have gone very deep, and they had manyinstitutions and many leaders dedicated to the perpetuation of outwornnotions which would otherwise have disappeared. Until recently changeshad taken place so slowly and so insensibly that only a very fewpersons could be expected to realize that not a few of the beliefsthat were accepted as eternal verities were due to the inevitablemisunderstandings of a savage. 

In speaking of the "savage" or "primitive mind", we are, of course, using a very clumsy expression. We shall employ the term, nevertheless, to indicate the characteristics of the human mind when there was as yetno writing, no organized industry or mechanical arts, no money, noimportant specialization of function except between the sexes, nosettled life in large communities. The period so described covers allbut about five or six thousand of the half million to a million yearsthat man has existed on the earth. 

There are no chronicles to tell us the story of those long centuries. Some inferences can be made from the increasing artfulness and varietyof the flint weapons and tools which we find. But the stone weaponswhich have come down to us, even in their crudest forms (eoliths), arevery far from representing the earliest achievements of man in theaccumulation of culture. Those dim, remote cycles must have been fullof great, but inconspicuous, originators who laid the foundations ofcivilization in discoveries and achievements so long taken for grantedthat we do not realize that they ever had to be made at all. 

Since man is descended from less highly endowed animals, there musthave been a time when the man-animal was in a state of animalignorance. He started with no more than an ape is able to know. He hadto learn everything for himself, as he had no one to teach him thetricks that apes and children can be taught by sophisticated humanbeings. He was necessarily self-taught, and began, as we have seen, ina state of ignorance beyond anything we can readily conceive. He livednaked and speechless in the woods, or wandered over the plains withoutartificial shelter or any way of cooking his food. He subsisted on rawfruit, berries, roots, insects, and such animals as he could strikedown or pick up dead. His mind must have corresponded with his brutishstate. He must at the first have learned just as his animal relativeslearn--by fumbling and by forming accidental associations. He hadimpulses and such sagacity as he individually derived from experience, but no heritage of knowledge accumulated by the group and transmittedby education. This heritage had to be constructed on man'spotentialities. 

Of mankind in this extremely primitive condition we have no traces. There could indeed be no traces. All savages of the present day or ofwhom we have any record represent a relatively highly developedtraditional culture, with elaborate languages, myths, andwell-established artificial customs, which it probably took hundredsof thousands of years to accumulate. Man in "a state of nature" isonly a presupposition, but a presupposition which is forced upon us bycompelling evidence, conjectural and inferential though it is. 

On a geological time scale we are still close to savagery, and it isinevitable that the ideas and customs and sentiments of savageryshould have become so ingrained that they may have actually affectedman's nature by natural selection through the survival of those whomost completely adjusted themselves to the uncritical culture whichprevailed. But in any case it is certain, as many anthropologists havepointed out, that customs, savage ideas, and primitive sentiments havecontinued to form an important part of our own culture down even tothe present day. We are met thus with the necessity of reckoning withthis inveterate element in our present thought and customs. Much ofthe data that we have regarding primitive man has been accumulated inrecent times, for the most part as a result of the study of simplepeoples. These differ greatly in their habits and myths, but somesalient common traits emerge which cast light on the spontaneousworkings of the human mind when unaffected by the sophistications of ahighly elaborate civilization. 

At the start man had to distinguish himself from the group to which hebelonged and say, "I am I. " This is not an idea given by nature. [16]There are evidences that the earlier religious notions were not basedon individuality, but rather on the "virtue" which objects had--thatis, their potency to do things. Only later did the animistic belief inthe personalities of men, animals, and the forces of nature appear. When man discovered his own individuality he spontaneously ascribedthe same type of individuality and purpose to animals and plants, tothe wind and the thunder. 

This exhibits one of the most noxious tendencies of the mind--namely, personification. It is one of the most virulent enemies of clearthinking. We speak of the Spirit of the Reformation or the Spirit ofRevolt or the Spirit of Disorder and Anarchy. The papers tell us that, "Berlin says", "London says", "Uncle Sam so decides", "John Bull isdisgruntled". Now, whether or no there are such things as spirits, Berlin and London have no souls, and Uncle Sam is as mythical as thegreat god Pan. Sometimes this regression to the savage is harmless, but when a newspaper states that "Germany is as militaristic as ever", on the ground that some insolent Prussian lieutenant says that Germanarmies will occupy Paris within five years, we have an example ofanimism which in a society farther removed from savagery than oursmight be deemed a high crime and misdemeanor. Chemists and physicianshave given up talking of spirits, but in discussing social andeconomic questions we are still victimized by the primitive animistictendencies of the mind. 

The dream has had a great influence in the building up of the mind. Our ideas, especially our religious beliefs, would have had quiteanother history had men been dreamless. For it was not merely hisshadow and his reflection in the water that led man to imagine soulsand doubles, but pre-eminently the visions of the night. As his bodylay quiet in sleep he found himself wandering in distant places. 

Sometimes he was visited by the dead. So it was clear that the bodyhad an inhabitant who was not necessarily bound to it, who coulddesert it from time to time during life, and who continued to existand interest itself in human affairs after death. 

Whole civilizations and religions and vast theological speculationshave been dominated by this savage inference. It is true that in veryrecent times, since Plato, let us say, other reasons have been urgedfor believing in the soul and its immortality, but the idea appears tohave got its firm footing in savage logic. It is a primitive inference, however it may later have been revised, rationalized, and ennobled. 

The taboo--the forbidden thing--of savage life is another thing veryelementary in man's make-up. He had tendencies to fall into habits andestablish inhibitions for reasons that he either did not discover oreasily forgot. These became fixed and sacred to him and any departurefrom them filled him with dread. Sometimes the prohibition might havesome reasonable justification, sometimes it might seem wholly absurdand even a great nuisance, but that made no difference in its bindingforce. For example, pork was taboo among the ancient Hebrews--no onecan say why, but none of the modern justifications for abstaining fromthat particular kind of meat would have counted in early Jewish times. It is not improbable that it was the original veneration for the boarand not an abhorrence of him that led to the prohibition. 

The modern "principle" is too often only a new form of the ancienttaboo, rather than an enlightened rule of conduct. The person whojustifies himself by saying that he holds certain beliefs, or acts ina certain manner "on principle", and yet refuses to examine the basisand expediency of his principle, introduces into his thinking andconduct an irrational, mystical element similar to that whichcharacterized savage prohibitions. Principles unintelligently urgedmake a great deal of trouble in the free consideration of socialreadjustment, for they are frequently as recalcitrant and obscurantistas the primitive taboo, and are really scarcely more than an excusefor refusing to reconsider one's convictions and conduct. Thepsychological conditions lying back of both taboo and this sort ofprinciple are essentially the same. 

We find in savage thought a sort of intensified and generalized tabooin the classification of things as clean and unclean and in theconceptions of the sacred. These are really expressions of profoundand persistent traits in the uncritical mind and can only be overcomeby carefully cultivated criticism. They are the result of our naturaltimidity and the constant dread lest we find ourselves treading onholy (_i. E. _, dangerous) ground. [17] When they are intrenched in themind we cannot expect to think freely and fairly, for they effectuallystop argument. If a thing is held to be sacred it is the center ofwhat may be called a defense complex, and a reasonable considerationof the merits of the case will not be tolerated. When an issue isdeclared to be a "moral" one--for example, the prohibition of strongdrink--an emotional state is implied which makes reasonable compromiseand adjustment impossible; for "moral" is a word on somewhat the sameplane as "sacred", and has much the same qualities and similar effectson thinking. In dealing with the relations of the sexes the terms"pure" and "impure" introduce mystic and irrational moods alien toclear analysis and reasonable readjustments. Those who have studiedthe characteristics of savage life are always struck by its deadlyconservatism, its needless restraints on the freedom of theindividual, and its hopeless routine. Man, like plants and animals ingeneral, tends to go on from generation to generation, living asnearly as may be the life of his forbears. Changes have to be forcedupon him by hard experience, and he is ever prone to find excuses forslipping back into older habits, for these are likely to be simpler, less critical, more spontaneous--more closely akin, in short, to hisanimal and primitive promptings. One who prides himself to-day on hisconservatism, on the ground that man is naturally an anarchic anddisorderly creature who is held in check by the far-seeing Tory, isalmost exactly reversing the truth. Mankind is conservative by natureand readily generates restraints on himself and obstacles to changewhich have served to keep him in a state of savagery during almost hiswhole existence on the earth, and which still perpetuate all sorts ofprimitive barbarism in modern society. The conservative "on principle"is therefore a most unmistakably primitive person in his attitude. Hisonly advance beyond the savage mood lies in the specious reasons he isable to advance for remaining of the same mind. What we vaguely call a"radical" is a very recent product due to altogether exceptional andunprecedented circumstances. 

NOTES. 

[10] It is impossible to discuss here the results which a reallyhonest study of child psychology promises. The relations of the childto his parents and elders in general and to the highly artificialsystem of censorship and restraints which they impose in their owninterests on his natural impulses must surely have a permanentinfluence on the notions he continues to have as an adult in regard tohis "superiors" and the institutions and _mores_ under which he iscalled to live. Attempts in later life to gain intellectual freedomcan only be successful if one comes to think of the childish origin ofa great part of his "real" reasons. 

[11] Clarence Day in _Our Simian World_ discusses with delightfulhumor the effects of our underlying simian temperament on the conductof life. 

[12] The word "imitation" is commonly used very loosely. The realquestion is does an animal, or even man himself, tend to makemovements or sounds made by their fellow-creatures in their presenceIt seems to be made out now that even monkeys are not imitative inthat sense and that man himself has no general inclination to do overwhat he sees being done. Pray, if you doubt this, note how many thingsyou see others doing that you have no inclination to imitate! For anadmirable summary see Thorndike, E. L. , _The Original Nature of Man_, 1913, pp. 108 ff. 

[13] "If the earth were struck by one of Mr. Wells's comets, and if, in consequence, every human being now alive were to lose all theknowledge and habits which he had acquired from preceding generations(though retaining unchanged all his own powers of invention and memoryand habituation) nine tenths of the inhabitants of London or New Yorkwould be dead in a month, and 99 per cent of the remaining tenth wouldbe dead in six months. They would have no language to express theirthoughts, and no thoughts but vague reverie. They could not readnotices, or drive motors or horses. They would wander about, led bythe inarticulate cries of a few naturally dominant individuals, drowning themselves, as thirst came on, in hundreds at the riversidelanding places, looting those shops where the smell of decaying foodattracted them, and perhaps at the end stumbling on the expedient ofcannibalism. Even in the country districts men could not invent, intime to preserve their lives, methods of growing food, or taminganimals, or making fire, or so clothing themselves as to endure aNorthern winter. "--GRAHAM WALLAS, _Our Social Heritage_, p. 16. Onlythe very lowest of savages might possibly pull through if cultureshould disappear. 

[14] "A Theory of History", Political Science Quarterly, December, 1920. He attributes history to the adventurers. 

[15] Count Korzybski in his _Manhood of Humanity_ is so impressed bythe uniqueness and undreamed possibilities of human civilization andman's "time-binding" capacity that he declares that it is a gross andmisleading error to regard man as an animal at all. Yet he is forcedsadly to confess that man continues all too often to operate on ananimal or "space-binding" plan of life. His aim and outlook are, however, essentially the same as those of the present writer. Hismethod of approach will appeal especially to those who are wont todeal with affairs in the spirit of the mathematician and engineer. Heis quite right in thinking that man has hitherto had little conceptionof his peculiar prerogatives and unlimited opportunities forbetterment. 

[16] In the beginning, too, man did not know how children came about, for it was not easy to connect a common impulsive act with the eventof birth so far removed in time. The tales told to children still arereminiscences of the mythical explanations which our savage ancestorsadvanced to explain the arrival of the infant. Consequently, allpopular theories of the origin of marriage and the family based on theassumption of conscious paternity are outlawed. 

[17] Lucretius warns the reader not to be deterred from consideringthe evils wrought by religion by the fear of treading on "the unholygrounds of reason and in the path of sin". --_De Rer. Nat_. I, 80 ff. 

 * * * * *

IV

 Thereupon one of the Egyptian priests, who was of a very great age, said: O Solon, Solon, you Hellenes are but children, and there was never an old man who was a Hellene. Solon in return asked him what he meant. I mean to say, he replied, that in mind you are all young; there is no old opinion handed down among you by ancient tradition; nor any science which is hoary with age. --PLATO'S _Timaeus_, 22 (Jowett's translation). 

 The truth is that we are far more likely to underrate the originality of the Greeks than to exaggerate it, and we do not always remember the very short time they took to lay down the lines scientific inquiry has followed ever since. --JOHN BURNET. 

8. BEGINNING OF CRITICAL THINKING

The Egyptians were the first people, so far as we know, who invented ahighly artificial method of writing, about five thousand years ago, and began to devise new arts beyond those of their barbarouspredecessors. They developed painting and architecture, navigation, and various ingenious industries; they worked in glass and enamels andbegan the use of copper, and so introduced metal into human affairs. But in spite of their extraordinary advance in practical, matter-of-fact knowledge they remained very primitive in theirbeliefs. The same may be said of the peoples of Mesopotamia and of thewestern Asiatic nations in general--just as in our own day thepractical arts have got a long start compared with the revision ofbeliefs in regard to man and the gods. The peculiar opinions of theEgyptians do not enter directly into our intellectual heritage, butsome of the fundamental religious ideas which developed in westernAsia have, through the veneration for the Hebrew Scriptures, becomepart and parcel of our ways of thinking. To the Greeks, however, weare intellectually under heavy obligation. The literature of theGreeks, in such fragments as escaped destruction, was destined, alongwith the Hebrew Scriptures, to exercise an incalculable influence inthe formation of our modern civilized minds. These two dominatingliterary heritages originated about the same time--day beforeyesterday--viewed in the perspective of our race's history. Previousto the Greek civilization books had played no great part in thedevelopment, dissemination, and transmission of culture fromgeneration to generation. Now they were to become a cardinal force inadvancing and retarding the mind's expansion. 

It required about a thousand years for the Greek shepherds from thepastures of the Danube to assimilate the culture of the highlycivilized regions in which they first appeared as barbariandestroyers. They accepted the industrial arts of the easternMediterranean, adopted the Phoenician alphabet, and emulated thePhoenician merchant. By the seventh century before our era they hadtowns, colonies, and commerce, with much stimulating running hitherand thither. We get our first traces of new intellectual enterprise inthe Ionian cities, especially Miletus, and in the Italian colonies ofthe Greeks. Only later did Athens become the unrivaled center in amarvelous outflowering of the human intelligence. 

It is a delicate task to summarize what we owe to the Greeks. Leavingaside their supreme achievements in literature and art, we canconsider only very briefly the general scope and nature of theirthinking as it relates most closely to our theme. 

The chief strength of the Greeks lay in their freedom from hamperingintellectual tradition. They had no venerated classics, no holy books, no dead languages to master, no authorities to check their freespeculation. As Lord Bacon reminds us, they had no antiquity ofknowledge and no knowledge of antiquity. A modern classicist wouldhave been a forlorn outlander in ancient Athens, with no books in aforgotten tongue, no obsolete inflections to impose upon reluctantyouth. He would have had to use the everyday speech of thesandal-maker and fuller. 

For a long time no technical words were invented to give aloofness andseeming precision to philosophic and scientific discussion. Aristotlewas the first to use words incomprehensible to the average citizen. Itwas in these conditions that the possibilities of human criticismfirst showed themselves. The primitive notions of man, of the gods, and of the workings of natural forces began to be overhauled on anentirely new scale. Intelligence developed rapidly as exceptionallybold individuals came to have their suspicions of simple, spontaneous, and ancient ways of looking at things. Ultimately there came men whoprofessed to doubt everything. 

As Abelard long after put it, "By doubting we come to question, and byseeking we may come upon the truth. " But man is by nature credulous. He is victimized by first impressions, from which he can only escapewith great difficulty. He resents criticism of accepted and familiarideas as he resents any unwelcome disturbance of routine. So criticismis against nature, for it conflicts with the smooth workings of ourmore primitive minds, those of the child and the savage. 

It should not be forgotten that the Greek people were no exception inthis matter. Anaxagoras and Aristotle were banished for thinking asthey did; Euripides was an object of abhorrence to the conservative ofhis day, and Socrates was actually executed for his godless teachings. The Greek thinkers furnish the first instance of intellectual freedom, of the "self-detachment and self-abnegating vigor of criticism" whichis most touchingly illustrated in the honest "know-nothingism" ofSocrates. _They discovered skepticism in the higher and propersignificance of the word, and this was their supreme contribution tohuman thought_. 

One of the finest examples of early Greek skepticism was the discoveryof Xenophanes that man created the gods in his own image. He lookedabout him, observed the current conceptions of the gods, comparedthose of different peoples, and reached the conclusion that the way inwhich a tribe pictured its gods was not the outcome of any knowledgeof how they really looked and whether they had black eyes or blue, butwas a reflection of the familiarly human. If the lions had gods theywould have the shape of their worshipers. 

No more fundamentally shocking revelation was ever made than this, forit shook the very foundations of religious belief. The home life onOlympus as described in Homer was too scandalous to escape theattention of the thoughtful, and no later Christian could havedenounced the demoralizing influence of the current religious beliefsin hotter indignation than did Plato. To judge from the reflection ofGreek thought which we find in Lucretius and Cicero, none of theprimitive religious beliefs escaped mordant criticism. 

The second great discovery of the Greek thinkers was _metaphysics_. They did not have the name, which originated long after in quite anabsurd fashion, [18] but they reveled in the thing. Nowadaysmetaphysics is revered by some as our noblest effort to reach thehighest truth, and scorned by others as the silliest of wild-goosechases. I am inclined to rate it, like smoking, as a highly gratifyingindulgence to those who like it, and, as indulgences go, relativelyinnocent. The Greeks found that the mind could carry on an absorbinggame with itself. We all engage in reveries and fantasies of a homely, everyday type, concerned with our desires or resentments, but thefantasy of the metaphysician busies itself with conceptions, abstractions, distinctions, hypotheses, postulates, and logicalinferences. Having made certain postulates or hypotheses, he finds newconclusions, which he follows in a seemingly convincing manner. Thisgives him the delightful emotion of pursuing Truth, something as thesimple man pursues a maiden. Only Truth is more elusive than themaiden and may continue to beckon her follower for long years, nomatter how gray and doddering he may become. 

Let me give two examples of metaphysical reasoning. [19] We have anidea of an omnipotent, all-good, and perfect being. We are incapable, knowing as we do only imperfect things, of framing such an idea forourselves, so it must have been given us by the being himself. Andperfection must include existence, so God must exist. This was goodenough for Anselm and for Descartes, who went on to build a wholeclosely concatenated philosophical system on this foundation. To themthe logic seemed irrefragable; to the modern student of comparativereligion, even to Kant, himself a metaphysician, there was nothingwhatsoever in it but an illustration of the native operations of amind that has made a wholly gratuitous hypothesis and is victimized byan orderly series of spontaneous associations. 

A second example of metaphysics may be found in the doctrines of theEleatic philosophers, who early appeared in the Greek colonies on thecoast of Italy, and thought hard about space and motion. Empty spaceseemed as good as nothing, and, as nothing could not be said to exist, space must be an illusion; and as motion implied space in which totake place, there could be no motion. So all things were reallyperfectly compact and at rest, and all our impressions of change werethe illusions of the thoughtless and the simple-minded. Since one ofthe chief satisfactions of the metaphysicians is to get away from thewelter of our mutable world into a realm of assurance, this doctrineexercised a great fascination over many minds. The Eleatic convictionof unchanging stability received a new form in Plato's doctrine ofeternal "ideas", and later developed into the comforting conception ofthe "Absolute", in which logical and world-weary souls have soughtrefuge from the times of Plotinus to those of Josiah Royce. 

But there was one group of Greek thinkers whose general notions ofnatural operations correspond in a striking manner to the conclusionsof the most recent science. These were the Epicureans. Democritus wasin no way a modern experimental scientist, but he met the Eleaticmetaphysics with another set of speculative considerations whichhappened to be nearer what is now regarded as the truth than theirs. He rejected the Eleatic decisions against the reality of space andmotion on the ground that, since motion obviously took place, the voidmust be a reality, even if the metaphysician could not conceive it. Hehit upon the notion that all things were composed of minute, indestructible particles (or atoms) of fixed kinds. Given motion andsufficient time, these might by fortuitous concourse make all possiblecombinations. And it was one of these combinations which we call theworld as we find it. For the atoms of various shapes were inherentlycapable of making up all material things, even the soul of man and thegods themselves. There was no permanence anywhere; all was no morethan the shifting accidental and fleeting combinations of thepermanent atoms of which the cosmos was composed. This doctrine wasaccepted by the noble Epicurus and his school and is delivered to usin the immortal poem of Lucretius "On the Nature of Things". 

The Epicureans believed the gods to exist because, like Anselm andDescartes, they thought we had an innate idea of them. But the divinebeings led a life of elegant ease and took no account of man; neitherhis supplications, nor his sweet-smelling sacrifices, nor hisblasphemies, ever disturbed their calm. Moreover, the human soul wasdissipated at death. So the Epicureans flattered themselves that theyhad delivered man from his two chief apprehensions, the fear of thegods and the fear of death. For, as Lucretius says, he who understandsthe real nature of things will see that both are the illusions ofignorance. Thus one school of Greek thinkers attained to a completerejection of religious beliefs in the name of natural science. 

9. INFLUENCE OF PLATO AND ARISTOTLE

In Plato we have at once the skepticism and the metaphysics of hiscontemporaries. He has had his followers down through the ages, someof whom carried his skepticism to its utmost bounds, while othersavailed themselves of his metaphysics to rear a system of arrogantmystical dogmatism. He put his speculations in the form of dialogues--ostensible discussions in the market place or the houses ofphilosophic Athenians. The Greek word for logic is dialectic, whichreally means "discussion". Argumentation in the interest of fulleranalysis, with the hope of more critical conclusions. The dialoguesare the drama of his day, employed in Plato's magical hand as avehicle of discursive reason. Of late we have in Ibsen, Shaw, Brieux, and Galsworthy the old expedient applied to the consideration ofsocial perplexities and contradictions. The dialogue is indecisive inits outcome. It does not lend itself to dogmatic conclusions andsystematic presentation, but exposes the intricacy of all importantquestions and the inevitable conflict of views, which may seemaltogether irreconcilable. We much need to encourage and elaborateopportunities for profitable discussion to-day. We should revert tothe dialectic of the Athenian agora and make it a chosen instrumentfor clarifying, co-ordinating and directing our co-operative thinking. 

Plato's indecision and urbane fair-mindedness is called irony. Nowirony is seriousness without solemnity. It assumes that man is aserio-comic animal, and that no treatment of his affairs can beappropriate which gives him a consistency and dignity which he doesnot possess. He is always a child and a savage. He is the victim ofconflicting desires and hidden yearnings. He may talk like asentimental idealist and act like a brute. The same person will devoteanxious years to the invention of high explosives and then give hisfortune to the promotion of peace. We devise the most exquisitemachinery for blowing our neighbors to pieces and then display ourhighest skill and organization in trying to patch together such asoffer hope of being mended. Our nature forbids us to make a definitechoice between the machine gun and the Red Cross nurse. So we use theone to keep the other busy. Human thought and conduct can only betreated broadly and truly in a mood of tolerant irony. It belies thelogical precision of the long-faced, humorless writer on politics andethics, whose works rarely deal with man at all, but are a stupid formof metaphysics. 

Plato made terms with the welter of things, but sought relief in theconception of supernal models, eternal in the heavens, after which allthings were imperfectly fashioned. He confessed that he could not bearto accept a world which was like a leaky pot or a man running at thenose. In short, he ascribed the highest form of existence to idealsand abstractions. This was a new and sophisticated republication ofsavage animism. It invited lesser minds than his to indulge in allsorts of noble vagueness and impertinent jargon which continue tocurse our popular discussions of human affairs. He consecrated one ofthe chief foibles of the human mind and elevated it to a religion. 

Ever since his time men have discussed the import of names. Are theresuch things as love, friendship, and honor, or are there only lovelythings, friendly emotions in this individual and that, deeds which wemay, according to our standards, pronounce honorable or dishonorable?If you believe in beauty, truth, and love _as such_ you are aPlatonist. If you believe that there are only individual instances andillustrations of various classified emotions and desires and acts, andthat abstractions are only the inevitable categories of thought, youwould in the Middle Ages have been called a "nominalist". 

This matter merits a long discussion, but one can test any book ornewspaper editorial at his leisure and see whether the writer puts youoff with abstractions--Americanism, Bolshevism, public welfare, liberty, national honor, religion, morality, good taste, rights ofman, science, reason, error--or, on the other hand, casts some lighton actual human complications. I do not mean, of course, that we canget along without the use of abstract and general terms in ourthinking and speaking, but we should be on our constant guard againstviewing them as forces and attributing to them the vigor ofpersonality. Animism is, as already explained, a pitfall which isalways yawning before us and into which we are sure to plunge unlesswe are ever watchful. Platonism is its most amiable and completedisguise. 

Previous to Aristotle, Greek thought had been wonderfully free andelastic. It had not settled into compartments or assumed aneducational form which would secure its unrevised transmission fromteacher to student. It was not gathered together in systematictreatises. Aristotle combined the supreme powers of an original andcreative thinker with the impulses of a textbook writer. He lovedorder and classification. He supplied manuals of Ethics, Politics, Logic, Psychology, Physics, Metaphysics, Economics, Poetics, Zoölogy, Meteorology, Constitutional Law, and God only knows what not, for wedo not have by any means all the things he wrote. And he was equallyinterested, and perhaps equally capable, in all the widely scatteredfields in which he labored. And some of his manuals were sooverwhelming in the conclusiveness of their reasoning, soall-embracing in their scope, that the mediaeval universities may beforgiven for having made them the sole basis of a liberal educationand for imposing fines on those who ventured to differ from "ThePhilosopher". He seemed to know everything that could be known and tohave ordered all earthly knowledge in an inspired codification whichwould stand the professors in good stead down to the day of judgment. 

Aristotle combined an essentially metaphysical taste with apreternatural power of observation in dealing with the workings ofnature. In spite of his inevitable mistakes, which became the curse oflater docile generations, no other thinker of whom we have record canreally compare with him in the distinction and variety of hisachievements. It is not his fault that posterity used his works tohamper further progress and clarification. He is the father of bookknowledge and the grandfather of the commentator. 

After two or three hundred years of talking in the market place and ofphilosophic discussions prolonged until morning, such of the Greeks aswere predisposed to speculation had thought all the thoughts anduttered all the criticisms of commonly accepted beliefs and of oneanother that could by any possibility occur to those who had littleinclination to fare forth and extend their knowledge of the so-calledrealities of nature by painful and specialized research andexamination. This is to me the chief reason why, except for someadvances in mathematics, astronomy, geography, and the refinements ofscholarship, the glorious period of the Greek mind is commonly andrightfully assumed to have come to an end about the time ofAristotle's death. Why did the Greeks not go on, as modern scientistshave gone on, with vistas of the unachieved still ahead of them?

In the first place, Greek civilization was founded on slavery and afixed condition of the industrial arts. The philosopher and scholarwas estopped from fumbling with those everyday processes that wereassociated with the mean life of the slave and servant. Consequentlythere was no one to devise the practical apparatus by which aloneprofound and ever-increasing knowledge of natural operations ispossible. The mechanical inventiveness of the Greeks was slight, andhence they never came upon the lens; they had no microscope to revealthe minute, no telescope to attract the remote; they never devised amechanical timepiece, a thermometer, nor a barometer, to say nothingof cameras and spectroscopes. Archimedes, it is reported, disdained tomake any record of his ingenious devices, for they were unworthy thenoble profession of a philosopher. Such inventions as were made wereusually either toys or of a heavy practical character. So the nextgreat step forward in the extension of the human mind awaited thedisappearance of slavery and the slowly dawning suspicion, and finalrepudiation, of the older metaphysics, which first became marked somethree hundred years ago. 

NOTES. 

[18] When in the time of Cicero the long-hidden works of Aristotlewere recovered and put into the hands of Andronicus of Rhodes to edit, he found certain fragments of highly abstruse speculation which he didnot know what to do with. So he called them "addenda to thePhysics"--_Ta meta ta physica_. These fragments, under the caption"Metaphysica", became the most revered of Aristotle's productions, his"First Philosophy", as the Scholastics were wont to call it. 

[19] John Dewey deduces metaphysics from man's original reverie andthen shows how in time it became a solemn form of rationalizingcurrent habits and standards. _Reconstruction in Philosophy_, lecturesi-ii. It is certainly surprising how few philosophical writers haveever reached other than perfectly commonplace conclusions in regard topractical "morality". 

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V

 And God made the two great lights; the greater light to rule the day, and the lesser light to rule the night; he made the stars also. And God set them in the firmament of heaven to give light upon the earth. 

 And God said, Let the earth bring forth the living creature after its kind, cattle and creeping thing, and beast of the earth after its kind: and it was so. 

 And God said, Let us make man in our image, after our likeness: and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth. --Gen. I. 

 Ibi vacabimus et videbimus, videbimus et amabimus, amabimus et laudabimus. Ecce quod erit in fine sine fine. Nam quis alius noster est finis nisi pervenire ad regnum, cuius nullus est finis?--AUGUSTINE. 

10. ORIGIN OF THE MEDIAEVAL CIVILIZATION

In the formation of what we may call our historical mind--namely, thatmodification of our animal and primitive outlook which has beenproduced by men of exceptional intellectual venturesomeness--theGreeks played a great part. We have seen how the Greek thinkersintroduced for the first time highly subtle and critical ways ofscrutinizing old beliefs, and, how they disabused their minds of manyan ancient and naïve mistake. But our current ways of thinking are notderived directly from the Greeks; we are separated from them by theRoman Empire and the Middle Ages. When we think of Athens we think ofthe Parthenon and its frieze, of Sophocles and Euripides, of Socratesand Plato and Aristotle, of urbanity and clarity and moderation in allthings. When we think of the Middle Ages we find ourselves in a worldof monks, martyrs, and miracles, of popes and emperors, of knights andladies; we remember Gregory the Great, Abélard, and Thomas Aquinas--and very little do these reminiscences have in common with those ofHellas. 

It was indeed a different world, with quite different fundamentalpresuppositions. Marvelous as were the achievements of the Greeks inart and literature, and ingenious as they were in new and variedcombinations of ideas, they paid too little attention to the commonthings of the world to devise the necessary means of penetrating itsmysteries. They failed to come upon the lynx-eyed lens, or otherinstruments of modern investigation, and thus never gained a godlikevision of the remote and the minute. Their critical thought wasconsequently not grounded in experimental or applied science, andwithout that the western world was unable to advance or even longmaintain their high standards of criticism. 

After the Hellenes were absorbed into the vast Roman Empire criticalthought and creative intelligence--rare and precarious things atbest--began to decline, at first slowly and then with fatal rapidityand completeness. Moreover, new and highly uncritical beliefs andmodes of thought became popular. They came from the Near East--Mesopotamia, Syria, Egypt, and Asia Minor--and largely supplantedthe critical traditions of the great schools of Greek philosophy. The Stoic and Epicurean dogmas had lost their freshness. The Greekthinkers had all agreed in looking for salvation through intelligenceand knowledge. But eloquent leaders arose to reveal a new salvation, and over the portal of truth they erased the word "Reason" and wrote"Faith" in its stead; and the people listened gladly to the newprophets, for it was necessary only _to believe_ to be saved, andbelieving is far easier than thinking. 

It was religious and mystical thought which, in contrast to thesecular philosophy of the Greeks and the scientific thought of our ownday, dominated the intellectual life of the Middle Ages. 

Before considering this new phase through which the human mind was topass it is necessary to guard against a common misapprehension in theuse of the term "Middle Ages". Our historical textbooks usuallyinclude in that period the happenings between the dissolution of theRoman Empire and the voyages of Columbus or the opening of theProtestant revolt. To the student of intellectual history this isunfortunate, for the simple reason that almost all the ideas and eveninstitutions of the Middle Ages, such as the church and monasticismand organized religious intolerance, really originated in the lateRoman Empire. Moreover, the intellectual revolution which has usheredin the thought of our day did not get well under way until theseventeenth century. So one may say that medieval thought began longbefore the accepted beginning of the Middle Ages and persisted acentury or so after they are ordinarily esteemed to have come to anend. We have to continue to employ the old expression for convenience'sake, but from the standpoint of the history of the European mindthree periods should be distinguished, lying between ancient Greekthought as it was flourishing in Athens, Alexandria, Rhodes, Rome, andelsewhere at the opening of the Christian era, and the birth of modernscience some sixteen hundred years later. 

The first of these is the period of the Christian Fathers, culminatingin the authoritative writings of Augustine, who died in 430. By thistime a great part of the critical Greek books had disappeared inwestern Europe. As for pagan writers, one has difficulty in thinkingof a single name (except that of Lucian) later than Juvenal, who haddied nearly three hundred years before Augustine. Worldly knowledgewas reduced to pitiful compendiums on which the mediaeval studentswere later to place great reliance. Scientific, literary, andhistorical information was scarcely to be had. The western world, sofar as it thought at all, devoted its attention to religion and allmanner of mystical ideas, old and new. As Harnack has so well said, the world was already intellectually bankrupt before the Germaninvasions and their accompanying disorders plunged it into stilldeeper ignorance and mental obscurity. 

The second, or "Dark Age", lasted with only slight improvement fromAugustine to Abélard, about seven hundred years. The prosperous_villas_ disappeared; towns vanished or shriveled up; libraries wereburned or rotted away from neglect; schools were closed, to bereopened later here and there, after Charlemagne's educational edict, in an especially enterprising monastery or by some exceptional bishopwho did not spend his whole time in fighting. 

From about the year 1100 conditions began to be more and morefavorable to the revival of intellectual ambition, a recovery offorgotten knowledge, and a gradual accumulation of new information andinventions unknown to the Greeks, or indeed to any previouscivilization. The main presuppositions of this third period of thelater Middle Ages go back, however, to the Roman Empire. They had beenformulated by the Church Fathers, transmitted through the Dark Age, and were now elaborated by the professors in the newly establisheduniversities under the influence of Aristotle's recovered works andbuilt up into a majestic intellectual structure known asScholasticism. On these mediaeval university professors--theschoolmen--Lord Bacon long ago pronounced a judgment that may wellstand to-day. "Having sharp and strong wits, and abundance of leisure, and small variety of reading, but their wits being shut up in thecells of a few authors (chiefly Aristotle, their dictator), as theirpersons were shut up in the cells of monasteries and colleges, andknowing little history, either of nature or time [they], did out of nogreat quantity of matter and infinite agitation of wit spin out untous those laborious webs of learning which are extant in their books. "

Our civilization and the human mind, critical and uncritical, as wenow find it in our western world, is a direct and uninterruptedoutgrowth of the civilization and thought of the later Middle Ages. Very gradually only did peculiarly free and audacious individualthinkers escape from this or that mediaeval belief, until in our ownday some few have come to reject practically all the presuppositionson which the Scholastic system was reared. But the great mass ofChristian believers, whether Catholic or Protestant, still professedlyor implicitly adhere to the assumptions of the Middle Ages, at leastin all matters in which religious or moral sanctions are concerned. Itis true that outside the Catholic clergy the term "mediaeval" is oftenused in a sense of disparagement, but that should not blind us to thefact that mediaeval presumptions, whether for better or worse, arestill common. A few of the most fundamental of these presuppositionsespecially germane to our theme may be pointed out here. 

11. OUR MEDIAEVAL INTELLECTUAL INHERITANCE

The Greeks and Romans had various theories of the origin of things, all vague and admittedly conjectural. But the Christians, relying uponthe inspired account in the Bible, built their theories on informationwhich they believed vouchsafed to them by God himself. Their wholeconception of human history was based upon a far more fundamental andthorough supernaturalism than we find among the Greeks and Romans. Thepagan philosophers reckoned with the gods, to be sure, but they neverassumed that man's earthly life should turn entirely on what was tohappen after death. This was in theory the sole preoccupation of themediaeval Christian. Life here below was but a brief, if decisive, preliminary to the real life to come. 

The mediaeval Christian was essentially more polytheistic than hispagan predecessors, for he pictured hierarchies of good and evilspirits who were ever aiding him to reach heaven or seducing him intothe paths of sin and error. Miracles were of common occurrence andmight be attributed either to God or the devil; the directintervention of both good and evil spirits played a conspicuous partin the explanation of daily acts and motives. [20]

As a distinguished church historian has said, the God of the MiddleAges was a God of arbitrariness--the more arbitrary the more Godlike. By frequent interferences with the regular course of events he madehis existence clear, reassured his children of his continuedsolicitude, and frustrated the plots of the Evil One. Not until theeighteenth century did any considerable number of thinkers revoltagainst this conception of the Deity and come to worship a God oforderliness who abode by his own laws. 

The mediaeval thinkers all accepted without question what Santayanahas strikingly described as the "Christian Epic". This included thegeneral historical conceptions of how man came about, and how, in viewof his origin and his past, he should conduct his life. The universehad come into being in less than a week, and man had originally beencreated in a state of perfection along with all other things--sun, moon, and stars, plants and animals. After a time the first human pairhad yielded to temptation, transgressed God's commands, and beendriven from the lovely garden in which he had placed them. So sin cameinto the world, and the offspring of the guilty pair were therebycontaminated and defiled from the womb. 

In time the wickedness became such on the newly created earth that Godresolved to blot out mankind, excepting only Noah's family, which wasspared to repeople the earth after the Flood, but the unity oflanguage that man had formerly possessed was lost. At the appointedtime, preceded by many prophetic visions among the chosen people, Godsent his Son to live the life of men on earth and become their Saviourby submitting to death. Thereafter, with the spread of the gospel, thestruggle between the kingdom of God and that of the devil became thesupreme conflict of history. It was to culminate in the Last Judgment, when the final separation of good and evil should take place and theblessed should ascend into the heavens to dwell with God forever, while the wicked sank to hell to writhe in endless torment. 

This general account of man, his origin and fate, embraced in theChristian Epic, was notable for its precision, its divineauthenticity, and the obstacles which its authority consequentlypresented to any revision in the light of increasing knowledge. Thefundamental truths in regard to man were assumed to be establishedonce and for all. The Greek thinkers had had little in the way ofauthority on which to build, and no inconsiderable number of themfrankly confessed that they did not believe that such a thing couldexist for the thoroughly sophisticated intelligence. But mediaevalphilosophy and science _were grounded wholly in authority_. Themediaeval schoolmen turned aside from the hard path of skepticism, long searchings and investigation of actual phenomena, and confidentlybelieved that they could find truth by the easy way of revelation andthe elaboration of unquestioned dogmas. 

This reliance on authority is a fundamental primitive trait. We haveinherited it not only from our mediaeval forefathers, but, like themand through them, from long generations of prehistoric men. We allhave a natural tendency to rely upon established beliefs and fixedinstitutions. This is an expression of our spontaneous confidence ineverything that comes to us in an unquestioned form. As children weare subject to authority and cannot escape the control of existingopinion. We unconsciously absorb our ideas and views from the group inwhich we happen to live. What we see about us, what we are told, andwhat we read has to be received at its face value so long as there areno conflicts to arouse skepticism. 

We are tremendously suggestible. Our mechanism is much better adaptedto credulity than to questioning. All of us believe nearly all thetime. Few doubt, and only now and then. The past exercises an almostirresistible fascination over us. As children we learn to look up tothe old, and when we grow up we do not permit our poignant realizationof elderly incapacity among our contemporaries to rouse suspicions ofMoses, Isaiah, Confucius, or Aristotle. Their sayings come to usunquestioned; their remoteness makes inquiry into their competenceimpossible. We readily assume that they had sources of information andwisdom superior to the prophets of our own day. 

During the Middle Ages reverence for authority, and for thatparticular form of authority which we may call the tyranny of thepast, was dominant, but probably not more so than it had been in othersocieties and ages--in ancient Egypt, in China and India. Of the greatsources of mediaeval authority, the Bible and the Church Fathers, theRoman and Church law, and the encyclopaedic writings of Aristotle, none continues nowadays to hold us in its old grip. Even the Bible, although nominally unquestioned among Roman Catholics and all the moreorthodox Protestant sects, is rarely appealed to, as of old, inparliamentary debate or in discussions of social and economicquestions. It is still a religious authority, but it no longer formsthe basis of secular decisions. 

The findings of modern science have shaken the hold of the sources ofmediaeval authority, but they have done little as yet to loosen ourinveterate habit of relying on the more insidious authority of currentpractice and belief. We still assume that received dogmas representthe secure conclusions of mankind, and that current institutionsrepresent the approved results of much experiment in the past, whichit would be worse than futile to repeat. One solemn remembrancer willcite as a warning the discreditable experience of the Greek cities indemocracy; another, how the decline of "morality" and thedisintegration of the family heralded the fall of Rome; another, theconstant menace of mob rule as exemplified in the Reign of Terror. Butto the student of history these alleged illustrations have littlebearing on present conditions. He is struck, moreover, with the easewith which ancient misapprehensions are transmitted from generation togeneration and with the difficulty of launching a newer and clearerand truer idea of anything. Bacon warns us that the multitude, "or thewisest for the multitude's sake", is in reality "ready to give passagerather to that which is popular and superficial than to that which issubstantial and profound; for the truth is that time seemeth to be ofthe nature of a river or stream, which carrieth down to us that whichis light and blown up, and sinketh and drowneth that which is weightyand solid". 

It is very painful to most minds to admit that the past does notfurnish us with reliable, permanent standards of conduct and of publicpolicy. We resent the imputation that things are not going, on thewhole, pretty well, and find excuses for turning our backs ondisconcerting and puzzling facts. We are full of respectable fears anda general timidity in the face of conditions which we vaguely feel areescaping control in spite of our best efforts to prevent anythoroughgoing readjustment. We instinctively try to show that Mr. Keynes must surely be wrong about the Treaty of Versailles; that Mr. Gibbs must be perversely exaggerating the horrors of modern war; thatMr. Hobson certainly views the industrial crisis with unjustifiablepessimism; that "business as usual" cannot be that socially perverseand incredibly inexpedient thing Mr. Veblen shows it to be; that Mr. Robin's picture of Lenin can only be explained by a disguised sympathyfor Bolshevism. 

Yet, even if we could assume that traditional opinion is a fairlyclear and reliable reflection of hard-earned experience, surely itshould have less weight in our day and generation than in the past. For changes have overtaken mankind which have fundamentally alteredthe conditions in which we live, and which are revolutionizing therelations between individuals and classes and nations. Moreover, wemust remember that knowledge has widened and deepened, so that, couldany of us really catch up with the information of our own time, hewould have little temptation to indulge the mediaeval habit ofappealing to the authority of the past. 

The Christian Epic did not have to rely for its perpetuation either onits intellectual plausibility or its traditional authority. During theMiddle Ages there developed a vast and powerful religious State, themediaeval Church, the real successor, as Hobbes pointed out, to theRoman Empire; and the Church with all its resources, including itscontrol over "the secular arm" of kings and princes, was ready todefend the Christian beliefs against question and revision. To doubtthe teachings of the Church was the supreme crime; it was treasonagainst God himself, in comparison with which--to judge from mediaevalexperts on heresy--murder was a minor offense. 

We do not, however, inherit our present disposition to intolerancesolely from the Middle Ages. As animals and children and savages, weare naively and unquestioningly intolerant. All divergence from thecustomary is suspicious and repugnant. It seems perverse, and readilysuggests evil intentions. Indeed, so natural and spontaneous isintolerance that the question of freedom of speech and writingscarcely became a real issue before the seventeenth century. We haveseen that some of the Greek thinkers were banished, or even executed, for their new ideas. The Roman officials, as well as the populace, pestered the early Christians, not so much for the substance of theirviews as because they were puritanical, refused the routine reverenceto the gods, and prophesied the downfall of the State. 

But with the firm establishment of Christianity edicts began to beissued by the Roman emperors making orthodox Christian belief the testof good citizenship. One who disagreed with the emperor and hisreligious advisers in regard to the relation of the three members ofthe Trinity was subject to prosecution. Heretical books were burned, the houses of heretics destroyed. So, organized mediaeval religiousintolerance was, like so many other things, a heritage of the laterRoman Empire, and was duly sanctioned in both the Theodosian andJustinian Codes. It was, however, with the Inquisition, beginning inthe thirteenth century, that the intolerance of the Middle Agesreached its most perfect organization. 

Heresy was looked upon as a contagious disease that must be checked atall costs. It did not matter that the heretic usually led aconspicuously blameless life, that he was arduous, did not swear, wasemaciated with fasting and refused to participate in the vainrecreations of his fellows. He was, indeed, overserious and took hisreligion too hard. This offensive parading as an angel of light wasexplained as the devil's camouflage. No one tried to find out what theheretic really thought or what were the merits of his divergentbeliefs. Because he insisted on expressing his conception of God inslightly unfamiliar terms, the heretic was often branded as anatheist, just as to-day the Socialist is so often accused of beingopposed to all government, when the real objection to him is that hebelieves in too much government. It was sufficient to classify asuspected heretic as an Albigensian, or Waldensian, or a member ofsome other heretical sect. There was no use in his trying to explainor justify; it was enough that he diverged. 

There have been various explanations of mediaeval religiousintolerance. Lecky, for example, thought that it was due to the theoryof exclusive salvation; that, since there was only one way of gettingto heaven, all should obviously be compelled to adopt it, for thesaving of their souls from eternal torment. But one finds littlesolicitude for the damned in mediaeval writings. The public at largethought hell none too bad for one who revolted against God and HolyChurch. No, the heretics were persecuted because heresy was, accordingto the notions of the time, a monstrous and unutterably wicked thing, and because their beliefs threatened the vested interests of that day. 

We now realize more clearly than did Lecky that the Church was reallya State in the Middle Ages, with its own laws and courts and prisonsand regular taxation to which all were subject. It had all theinterests and all the touchiness of a State, and more. The heretic wasa traitor and a rebel. He thought that he could get along without thepope and bishops, and that he could well spare the ministrations ofthe orthodox priests and escape their exactions. He was the"anarchist", the "Red" of his time, who was undermining establishedauthority, and, with the approval of all right-minded citizens, he wastreated accordingly. For the mediaeval citizen no more conceived of aState in which the Church was not the dominating authority than we canconceive of a society in which the present political State may havebeen superseded by some other form of organization. 

Yet the inconceivable has come to pass. Secular authority hassuperseded in nearly all matters the old ecclesiastical regime. Whatwas the supreme issue of the Middle Ages--the distinction between thereligious heretic and the orthodox--is the least of public questionsnow. 

What, then, we may ask, has been the outcome of the old religiouspersecutions, of the trials, tortures, imprisonings, burnings, andmassacres, culminating with the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes?What did the Inquisition and the censorship, both so longunquestioned, accomplish? Did they succeed in defending the truth or"safeguarding" society? At any rate, conformity was not established. Nor did the Holy Roman Church maintain its monopoly, although it hassurvived, purified and freed from many an ancient abuse. In mostcountries of western Europe and in our own land one may now believe ashe wishes, teach such religious views as appeal to him, and join withothers who share his sympathies. "Atheism" is still a shocking chargein many ears, but the atheist is no longer an outlaw. _It has beendemonstrated, in short, that religious dogma can be neglected inmatters of public concern and reduced to a question of private tasteand preference_. 

This is an incredible revolution. But we have many reasons forsuspecting that in a much shorter time than that which has elapsedsince the Inquisition was founded, the present attempt to eliminate byforce those who contemplate a fundamental reordering of social andeconomic relations will seem quite as inexpedient and hopeless as theInquisition's effort to defend the monopoly of the mediaeval Church. 

We can learn much from the past in regard to wrong ways of dealingwith new ideas. As yet we have only old-fashioned and highly expensivemodes of meeting the inevitable changes which are bound to take place. Repression has now and then enjoyed some temporary success, it istrue, but in the main it has failed lamentably and produced onlysuffering and confusion. Much will depend on whether our purpose is tokeep things as they are or to bring about readjustments designed tocorrect abuses and injustice in the present order. Do we believe, inother words, that truth is finally established and that we have onlyto defend it, or that it is still in the making? Do we believe in whatis commonly called progress, or do we think of that as belonging onlyto the past? Have we, on the whole, arrived, or are we only on theway, or mayhap just starting?

In the Middle Ages, even in the times of the Greeks and Romans, therewas little or no conception of progress as the word is now used. Therecould doubtless be improvement in detail. Men could be wiser andbetter or more ignorant and perverse. But the assumption was that ingeneral the social, economic, and religious order was fairlystandardized. 

This was especially true in the Middle Ages. During these centuriesmen's single objective was the assurance of heaven and escape fromhell. Life was an angry river into which men were cast. Demons were onevery hand to drag them down. The only aim could be, with God's help, to reach the celestial shore. There was no time to consider whetherthe river might be made less dangerous by concerted effort, throughthe deflection of its torrents and the removal of its sharpest rocks. No one thought that human efforts should be directed to making the lotof humanity progressively better by intelligent reforms in the lightof advancing knowledge. 

The world was a place to escape from on the best terms possible. Inour own day this mediaeval idea of a static society yields onlygrudgingly, and the notion of inevitable vital change is as yet farfrom assimilated. We confess it with our lips, but resist it in ourhearts. We have learned as yet to respect only one class offundamental innovators, those dedicated to natural science and itsapplications. The social innovator is still generally suspect. 

To the mediaeval theologian, man was by nature vile. We have seenthat, according to the Christian Epic, he was assoiled from birth withthe primeval sin of his first parents, and began to darken his scorewith fresh offenses of his own as soon as he became intelligent enoughto do so. An elaborate mechanism was supplied by the Church for washingaway the original pollution and securing forgiveness for later sins. Indeed, this was ostensibly its main business. 

We may still well ask, Is man by nature bad? And accordingly as weanswer the question we either frame appropriate means for frustratinghis evil tendencies or, if we see some promise in him, work for hisfreedom and bid him take advantage of it to make himself and othershappy. So far as I know, Charron, a friend of Montaigne, was one ofthe first to say a good word for man's animal nature, and a hundredyears later the amiable Shaftesbury pointed out some honestlygentlemanly traits in the species. To the modern student of biologyand anthropology man is neither good nor bad. There is no longer any"mystery of evil". But the mediaeval notion of _sin_--a term heavywith mysticism and deserving of careful scrutiny by every thoughtfulperson--still confuses us. 

Of man's impulses, the one which played the greatest part in mediaevalthoughts of sin and in the monastic ordering of life was the sexual. The presuppositions of the Middle Ages in the matter of the relationsof men and women have been carried over to our own day. As comparedwith many of the ideas which we have inherited from the past, they areof comparatively recent origin. The Greeks and Romans were, on thewhole, primitive and uncritical in their view of sex. The philosophersdo not seem to have speculated on sex, although there was evidentlysome talk in Athens of women's rights. The movement is satirized byAristophanes, and later Plato showed a willingness in _The Republic_to impeach the current notions of the family and women's position ingeneral. 

But there are few traces of our ideas of sexual "purity" in theclassical writers. To the Stoic philosopher, and to other thoughtfulelderly people, sexual indulgence was deemed a low order of pleasureand one best carefully controlled in the interests of peace of mind. But with the incoming of Christianity an essentially new attitudedeveloped, which is still, consciously or unconsciously, that of mostpeople to-day. 

St. Augustine, who had led a free life as a teacher of rhetoric inCarthage and Rome, came in his later years to believe, as he struggledto overcome his youthful temptations, that sexual desire was the mostdevilish of man's enemies and the chief sign of his degradation. Hecould imagine no such unruly urgence in man's perfect estate, whenAdam and Eve still dwelt in Paradise. But with man's fall sexualdesire appeared as the sign and seal of human debasement. This theoryis poignantly set forth in Augustine's _City of God_. He furnishedtherein a philosophy for the monks, and doubtless his fourteenth bookwas well thumbed by those who were wont to ponder somewhat wistfullyon one of the sins they had fled the world to escape. 

Christian monasticism was spreading in western Europe in Augustine'stime, and the monkist vows included "chastity". There followed a longstruggle to force the whole priesthood to adopt a celibate life, andthis finally succeeded so far as repeated decrees of the Church couldeffect it. Marriage was proper for the laity, but both the monasticand secular clergy aspired to a superior holiness which should banishall thoughts of fervent earthly love. Thus a highly unnatural life wasaccepted by men and women of the most varied temperament and oftenwith slight success. 

The result of Augustine's theories and of the efforts to frustrate oneof man's most vehement impulses was to give sex a conscious importanceit had never possessed before. The devil was thrust out of the dooronly to come in at all the windows. In due time the Protestant sectsabolished monasteries, and the Catholic countries later followed theirexample. The Protestant clergy were permitted to marry, and the oldasceticism has visibly declined. But it has done much to determine ourwhole attitude toward sex, and there is no class of questions still sodifficult to discuss with full honesty or to deal with critically andwith an open mind as those relating to the intimate relations of menand women. 

No one familiar with mediaeval literature will, however, be inclinedto accuse its authors of prudishness. Nevertheless, modernprudishness, as it prevails especially in England and the UnitedStates--our squeamish and shamefaced reluctance to recognize and dealfrankly with the facts and problems of sex--is clearly an outgrowth ofthe mediaeval attitude which looked on sexual impulse as of evilorigin and a sign of man's degradation. Modern psychologists haveshown that prudishness is not always an indication of exceptionalpurity, but rather the reverse. It is often a disguise thrown overrepressed sexual interest and sexual preoccupations. It appears to bedecreasing among the better educated of the younger generation. Thestudy of biology, and especially of embryology, is an easy and simpleway of disintegrating the "impurity complex". "Purity" in the sense ofignorance and suppressed curiosity is a highly dangerous state ofmind. And such purity in alliance with prudery and defensive hypocrisymakes any honest discussion or essential readjustment of ourinstitutions and habits extremely difficult. 

One of the greatest contrasts between mediaeval thinking and the morecritical thought of to-day lies in the general conception of man'srelation to the cosmos. To the medieval philosopher, as to thestupidest serf of the time, the world was made for man. All theheavenly bodies revolved about man's abode as their center. Allcreatures were made to assist or to try man. God and the devil werepreoccupied with his fate, for had not God made him in his own imagefor his glory, and was not the devil intent on populating his owninfernal kingdom? It was easy for those who had a poetic turn of mindto think of nature's workings as symbols for man's edification. Thehabits of the lion or the eagle yielded moral lessons or illustratedthe divine scheme of salvation. Even the written word was to bevalued, not for what it seemed to say, but for hidden allegoriesdepicting man's struggles against evil and cheering him on his way. 

This is a perennially appealing conception of things. It correspondsto primitive and inveterate tendencies in humanity and gratifies, under the guise of humility, our hungering for self-importance. Themediaeval thinker, however freely he might exercise his powers oflogical analysis in rationalizing the Christian Epic, never permittedhimself to question its general anthropocentric and mystical view ofthe world. The philosophic mystic assumes the role of a docile child. He feels that all vital truth transcends his powers of discovery. Helooks to the Infinite and Eternal Mind to reveal it to him through theprophets of old, or in moments of ecstatic communion with the DivineIntelligence. To the mystic all that concerns our deeper needstranscends logic and defies analysis. In his estimate the human reasonis a feeble rushlight which can at best cast a flickering anduncertain ray on the grosser concerns of life, but which only servesto intensify the darkness which surrounds the hidden truth of God. 

In order that modern science might develop it is clear that a whollynew and opposed set of fundamental convictions had to be substitutedfor those of the Middle Ages. Man had to cultivate another kind ofself-importance and a new and more profound humility. He had come tobelieve in his capacity to discover important truth through thoughtfulexamination of things about him, and he had to recognize, on the otherhand, that the world did not seem to be made for him, but thathumanity was apparently a curious incident in the universe, and itscareer a recent episode in cosmic history. He had to acquire a tastefor the simplest possible and most thoroughgoing explanation ofthings. His whole mood had to change and impel him to reduceeverything so far as possible to the commonplace. 

This new view was inevitably fiercely attacked by the mysticallydisposed. They misunderstood it and berated its adherents and accusedthem of robbing man of all that was most precious in life. These, inturn, were goaded into bitterness and denounced their opponents aspig-headed obscurantists. 

But we must, after all, come to terms in some way with the emotionsunderlying mysticism. They are very dear to us, and scientificknowledge will never form an adequate substitute for them. No one needfear that the supply of mystery will ever give out; but a great dealdepends on our taste in mystery; that certainly needs refining. Whatdisturbs the so-called rationalist in the mystic's attitude is hispropensity to see mysteries where there are none and to fail to seethose that we cannot possibly escape. In declaring that one is not amystic, one makes no claim to be able to explain everything, nor doeshe maintain that all things are explicable in scientific terms. 

Indeed, no thoughtful person will be likely to boast that he can fullyexplain anything. We have only to scrape the surface of ourexperiences to find fundamental mystery. And how, indeed, asdescendants of an extinct race of primates, with a mind still in theearly stages of accumulation, should we be in the way of reachingultimate truth at any point? One may properly urge, however, that assharp a distinction as possible be made between fictitious mysteriesand the unavoidable ones which surround us on every side. How milkturned sour used to be a real mystery, now partially solved since thediscovery of bacteria; how the witch flew up the chimney was agratuitous mystery with which we need no longer trouble ourselves. A"live" wire would once have suggested magic; now it is at leastpartially explained by the doctrine of electrons. 

It is the avowed purpose of scientific thought to reduce the number ofmysteries, and its success has been marvelous, but it has by no meansdone its perfect work as yet. We have carried over far too much ofmediaeval mysticism in our views of man and his duty toward himselfand others. 

We must now recall the method adopted by students of the naturalsciences in breaking away from the standards and limitations of themediaeval philosophers and establishing new standards of their own. They thus prepared the way for a revolution in human affairs in themidst of which we now find ourselves. As yet their type of thinkinghas not been applied on any considerable scale to the solution ofsocial problems. By learning to understand and appreciate thescientific frame of mind as a historical victory won againstextraordinary odds, we may be encouraged to cultivate and popularize asimilar attitude toward the study of man himself. 

NOTES. 

[20] St. Ethelred, returning from a pious visit to Citeaux in the daysof Henry II, encountered a great storm when he reached the Channel. Heasked himself what _he_ had done to be thus delayed, and suddenlythought that he had failed to _fulfill_ a promise to write a poem onSt. Cuthbert. When he had completed this, "wonderful to say, the seaceased to rage and became tranquil". --_Surtees Society Publications_, i, p. 177. 

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VI

 Narrabo igitur primo opera artis et naturae miranda.... Ut videatur quod omnis magica potestas sit inferior his operibus et indigna. --ROGER BACON. 

 I do not endeavor either by triumphs of confutation, or pleadings of antiquity, or assumption of authority, or even, by the veil of obscurity, to invest these inventions of mine with any majesty.... I have not sought nor do I seek either to force or ensnare men's judgments, but I lead them to things themselves and the concordances of things, that they may see for themselves what they have, what they can dispute, what they can add and contribute to the common stock. --FRANCIS BACON (_Preface to the Great Instauration_). 

12. THE SCIENTIFIC REVOLUTION

At the opening of the seventeenth century a man of letters, ofsufficient genius to be suspected by some of having written the playsof Shakespeare, directed his distinguished literary ability to thepromotion and exaltation of natural science. Lord Bacon was the chiefherald of that habit of scientific and critical thought which hasplayed so novel and all-important a part in the making of the modernmind. When but twenty-two years old he was already sketching out awork which he planned to call _Temporis Partus Maximus (The GreatestThing Ever)_. He felt that he had discovered why the human mind, enmeshed in mediaeval metaphysics and indifferent to naturalphenomena, had hitherto been a stunted and ineffective thing, and howit might be so nurtured and guided as to gain undreamed of strengthand vigor. 

And never has there been a man better equipped with literary gifts topreach a new gospel than Francis Bacon. He spent years in devisingeloquent and ingenious ways of delivering learning from the"discredits and disgraces" of the past, and in exhorting man toexplore the realms of nature for his delight and profit. He neverwearied of trumpeting forth the glories of the new knowledge whichwould come with the study of common things and the profitable uses towhich it might be put in relieving man's estate. He impeached themediaeval schoolmen for spinning out endless cobwebs of learning, remarkable for their fineness, but of no substance or spirit. He urgedthe learned to come out of their cells, study the creations of God, and build upon what they discovered a new and true philosophy. 

Even in his own day students of natural phenomena had begun to carryout Bacon's general program with striking effects. While he was urgingmen to cease "tumbling up and down in their own reason and conceits"and to spell out, and so by degrees to learn to read, the volume ofGod's works, Galileo had already begun the reading and had found outthat the Aristotelian physics ran counter to the facts; that a bodyonce in motion will continue to move forever in a straight line unlessit be stopped or deflected. Studying the sky through his newlyinvented telescope, he beheld the sun spots and noted the sun'srevolution on its axis, the phases of Venus, and the satellites ofJupiter. These discoveries seemed to confirm the ideas advanced longbefore by Copernicus--the earth was not the center of the universe andthe heavens were not perfect and unchanging. He dared to discuss thesematters in the language of the people and was, as everyone knows, condemned by the Inquisition. 

This preoccupation with natural phenomena and this refusal to acceptthe old, established theories until they had been verified by aninvestigation of common fact was a very novel thing. It introduced afresh and momentous element into our intellectual heritage. We haverecalled the mysticism, supernaturalism, and intolerance of the MiddleAges, their reliance on old books, and their indifference to everydayfact except as a sort of allegory for the edification of the Christianpilgrim. In the mediaeval universities the professors, or "schoolmen", devoted themselves to the elaborate formulation of Christian doctrineand the interpretation of Aristotle's works. It was a period ofrevived Greek metaphysics, adapted to prevailing religiouspresuppositions. Into this fettered world Bacon, Galileo, Descartes, and others brought a new aspiration to promote investigation andhonest, critical thinking about everyday things. 

_These founders of modern natural science realized that they wouldhave to begin afresh. This was a bold resolve, but not so bold as mustbe that of the student of mankind to-day if he expects to free himselffrom the trammels of the past_. Bacon pointed out that the old dayswere not those of mature knowledge, but of youthful human ignorance. "_These_ times are the ancient times, when the world is ancient, andnot those we count ancient, _ordine retrogrado_, by a computationbackward from ourselves. " In his _New Atlantis_ he pictures an idealState which concentrated its resources on systematic scientificresearch, with a view to applying new discoveries to the betterment ofman's lot. 

Descartes, who was a young man when Bacon was an old one, insisted onthe necessity, if we proposed to seek the truth, of questioning_everything_ at least once in our lives. To all these leaders in thedevelopment of modern science doubt, not faith, was the beginning ofwisdom. They doubted--and with good reason--what the Greeks weresupposed to have discovered; they doubted all the old books and allthe university professors' lecture notes. They did not venture todoubt the Bible, but they eluded it in various ways. They set to workto find out exactly what happened under certain circumstances. Theyexperimented individually and reported their discoveries to thescientific academies which began to come into existence. 

As one follows the deliberations of these bodies it is pathetic toobserve how little the learning of previous centuries, in spite of itsimposing claims, had to contribute to a fruitful knowledge of commonthings. It required a century of hard work to establish the mostelementary facts which would now be found in a child's book. How waterand air act, how to measure time and temperature and atmosphericpressure, had to be discovered. The microscope revealed the complexityof organic tissues, the existence of minute creatures, vaguely calledinfusoria, and the strange inhabitants of the blood, the red and whitecorpuscles. The telescope put an end to the flattering assumption thatthe cosmos circled around man and the little ball he lives on. 

Without a certain un-Greek, practical inventive tendency which, forreasons not easily to be discovered, first began to manifest itself inthe thirteenth century, this progress would not have been possible. The new thinkers descended from the magisterial chair and patientlyfussed with lenses, tubes, pulleys, and wheels, thus weaningthemselves from the adoration of man's mind and understanding. Theyhad to devise the machinery of investigation as investigation itselfprogressed. 

Moreover, they did not confine themselves to the conventionally nobleand elevated subjects of speculation. They addressed themselves toworms and ditch water in preference to metaphysical subtleties. Theyagreed with Bacon that the mean and even filthy things deserve study. All this was naturally scorned by the university professors, and theuniversities consequently played little or no part in the advance ofnatural science until the nineteenth century. 

Nor were the moral leaders of mankind behind the intellectual inopposing the novel tendencies. The clergy did all they could toperpetuate the squalid belief in witchcraft, but found no place forexperimental science in their scheme of learning, and judged itoffensive to the Maker of all things. But their opposition could do nomore than hamper the new scientific impulse, which was far too potentto be seriously checked. 

So in one department of human thought--the investigation of naturalprocesses--majestic progress has been made since the opening of theseventeenth century, with every promise of continued and startlingadvance. The new methods employed by students of natural science haveresulted in the accumulation of a stupendous mass of information inregard to the material structure and operation of things, and thegradual way in which the earth and all its inhabitants have come intobeing. The nature and workings of atoms and molecules are beingcleared up, and their relation to heat, light, and electricityestablished. The slow processes which have brought about the mountainsand valleys, the seas and plains, have been exposed. The structure ofthe elementary cell can be studied under powerful lenses; itsdivisions, conjunctions, differentiation, and multiplication into theincredibly intricate substance of plants and animals can be traced. 

In short, man is now in a position, for the first time in his history, to have some really clear and accurate notion of the world in which hedwells and of the living creatures which surround him and with whichhe must come to terms. It would seem obvious that this fresh knowledgeshould enable him to direct his affairs more intelligently than hisancestors were able to do in their ignorance. He should be in aposition to accommodate himself more and more successfully to theexigencies of an existence which he can understand more fully than anypreceding generation, and he should aspire to deal more and moresagaciously with himself and his fellow-men. 

13. HOW SCIENTIFIC KNOWLEDGE HAS REVOLUTIONIZED THE CONDITIONS OF LIFE

But while our information in regard to man and the world isincalculably greater than that available a hundred, even fifty yearsago, we must frankly admit that the knowledge is still so novel, soimperfectly assimilated, so inadequately co-ordinated, and so feeblyand ineffectively presented to the great mass of men, that its_direct_ effects upon human impulses and reasoning and outlook are asyet inconsiderable and disappointing. We _might_ think in terms ofmolecules and atoms, but we rarely do. Few have any more knowledge oftheir own bodily operations than had their grandparents. The farmer'sconfidence in the phases of the moon gives way but slowly beforerecent discoveries in regard to the bacteria of the soil. Few who usethe telephone, ride on electric cars, and carry a camera have even themildest curiosity in regard to how these things work. It is only_indirectly_, through _invention_, that scientific knowledge touchesour lives on every hand, modifying our environment, altering our dailyhabits, dislocating the anciently established order, and imposing theburden of constant adaptation on even the most ignorant and lethargic. 

Unlike a great part of man's earlier thought, modern scientificknowledge and theory have not remained matter merely for academicdiscourse and learned books, but have provoked the invention ofinnumerable practical devices which surround us on every hand, andfrom which we can now scarce escape by land or sea. Thus whilescientific knowledge has not greatly affected the thoughts of most ofus, its influence in the promotion of modern invention has served toplace us in a new setting or environment, the novel features of whichit would be no small task to explain to one's great-great-grandfather, should he unexpectedly apply for up-to-date information. So even ifmodern scientific _knowledge_ is as yet so imperfect and illunderstood as to make it impossible for us to apply much of itdirectly and personally in our daily conduct, we nevertheless cannotneglect the urgent effects of scientific _inventions_, for they areconstantly posing new problems of adjustment to us, and sometimesdisposing of old ones. 

Let us recall a few striking examples of the astonishing way in whichwhat seemed in the beginning to be rather trivial inventions anddevices have, with the improvements of modern science, profoundlyaltered the conditions of life. 

Some centuries before the time of Bacon and Galileo four discoverieswere made which, supplemented and elaborated by later insight andingenuity, may be said to underlie our modern civilization. A writerof the time of Henry II of England reports that sailors when caught infog or darkness were wont to touch a needle to a bit of magnetic iron. The needle would then, it had been found, whirl around in a circle andcome to rest pointing north. On this tiny index the vast extension ofmodern commerce and imperialism rests. 

That lentil-shaped bits of glass would magnify objects was knownbefore the end of the thirteenth century, and from that little facthave come microscopes, telescopes, spectroscopes, and cameras; andfrom these in turn has come a great part of our present knowledge ofnatural processes in men, animals, and plants and our comprehension ofthe cosmos at large. 

Gunpowder began to be used a few decades after the lens was discovered;it and its terrible descendants have changed the whole problem of humanwarfare and of the public defense. 

The printing press, originally a homely scheme for saving the labor ofthe copyist, has not only made modern democracy and nationalitypossible, but has helped by the extension of education to underminethe ancient foundations upon which human industry has rested from thebeginnings of civilization. 

In the middle of the eighteenth century the steam engine began tosupplant the muscular power of men and animals, which had theretoforebeen only feebly supplemented by windmills and water wheels. And nowwe use steam and gas engines and water power to generate potentelectric currents which do their work far from the source of supply. Mechanical ingenuity has utilized all this undreamed-of energy ininnumerable novel ways for producing old and new commodities intremendous quantities and distributing them with incredible rapiditythroughout the earth. 

Vast factories have sprung up, with their laborious multitudes engagedon minute contributions to the finished article; overgrown citiessprawl over the neighboring green fields and pastures; long freighttrains of steel cars thunder across continents; monstrous masses ofwealth pile up, are reinvested, and applied to making the whole systemmore and more inconceivably intricate and interdependent; andincidentally there is hurry and worry and discontent and hazard beyondbelief for a creature who has to grasp it all and control it all witha mind reared on that of an animal, a child, and a savage. 

As if these changes were not astounding enough, now has come thechemist who devotes himself to making not new _commodities_ (or oldones in new ways), but new _substances_. He juggles with the atoms ofcarbon, hydrogen, oxygen, nitrogen, chlorine, and the rest, and faroutruns the workings of nature. Up to date he has been able to produceartfully over two hundred thousand compounds, for some of whichmankind formerly depended on the alchemy of animals and plants. He canmake foodstuffs out of sewage; he can entrap the nitrogen in the airand use it to raise wheat to feed, or high explosives to slaughter, his fellows. He no longer relies on plants and animals for dyes andperfumes. In short, a chemical discovery may at any moment devastatean immemorial industry and leave both capital and labor in the lurch. The day may not be far distant when, should the chemist learn tocontrol the incredible interatomic energy, the steam engine will seemas complete an anachronism as the treadmill. 

The uttermost parts of the earth have been visited by Europeans, andcommerce has brought all races of the globe into close touch. We havenow to reckon with every nation under heaven, as was shown in theWorld War. At the same time steam and electrical communication havebeen so perfected that space has been practically annihilated asregards speech, and in matters of transportation reduced to perhaps afifth. So all the peoples of the earth form economically a loose and, as yet, scarcely acknowledged federation of man, in which the fate ofany member may affect the affairs of all the others, no matter howremote they may be geographically. 

All these unprecedented conditions have conspired to give business forbusiness' sake a fascination and overwhelming importance it has neverhad before. We no longer make things for the sake of making them, butfor money. The chair is not made to sit on, but for profit; the soapis no longer prepared for purposes of cleanliness, but to be sold forprofit. Practically nothing catches our eye in the way of writing thatwas written for its own sake and not for money. Our magazines andnewspapers are our modern commercial travelers proclaiming the gospelof business competition. Formerly the laboring classes worked becausethey were slaves, or because they were defenseless and could notescape from thraldom--or, mayhap, because they were natural artisans;but now they are coming into a position where they can combine andbargain and enter into business competition with their employers. Liketheir employers, they are learning to give as little as possible foras much as possible. This is good business; and the employer shouldrealize that at last he has succeeded in teaching his employees to bestrictly businesslike. When houses were built to live in, and wheatand cattle grown to eat, these essential industries took care ofthemselves. But now that profit is the motive for building houses andraising grain, if the promised returns are greater from manufacturingautomobiles or embroidered lingerie, one is tempted to ask if thereare any longer compelling reasons for building houses or raising food?

Along with the new inventions and discoveries and our inordinatelypervasive commerce have come two other novel elements in ourenvironment--what we vaguely call "democracy" and "nationality". Thesealso are to be traced to applied science and mechanical contrivances. 

The printing press has made popular education possible, and it is ouraspiration to have every boy and girl learn to read and write--anideal that the Western World has gone far to realize in the lasthundred years. General education, introduced first among men and thenextended to women, has made plausible the contention that all adultsshould have a vote, and thereby exercise some ostensible influence inthe choice of public officials and in the direction of the policy ofthe government. 

Until recently the mass of the people have not been invited to turntheir attention to public affairs, which have been left in the controlof the richer classes and their representatives and agents, thestatesmen or politicians. Doubtless our crowded cities havecontributed to a growing sense of the importance of the common man, for all must now share the street car, the public park, the watersupply, and contagious diseases. 

But there is a still more fundamental discovery underlying ourdemocratic tendencies. This is the easily demonstrated scientifictruth that nearly all men and women, whatever their social andeconomic status, may have much greater possibilities of activity andthought and emotion than they exhibit in the particular conditions inwhich they happen to be placed; that in all ranks may be foundevidence of unrealized capacity; that we are living on a far lowerscale of intelligent conduct and rational enjoyment than is necessary. 

Our present notions of nationality are of very recent origin, goingback scarcely a hundred years. Formerly nations were made up of thesubjects of this or that gracious majesty and were regarded by theirGod-given rulers as beasts of burden or slaves or, in more amiablemoods, as children. The same forces that have given rise to moderndemocracy have made it possible for vast groups of people, such asmake up France or the United States, to be held together moreintimately than ever before by the news which reaches them daily ofthe enterprises of their government and the deeds of their conspicuousfellow-countrymen. 

In this way the inhabitants of an extensive territory embracinghundreds of thousands of square miles are brought as close together asthe people of Athens in former days. Man Is surely a gregarious animalwho dislikes solitude. He is, moreover, given to the most exaggeratedestimate of his tribe; and on these ancient foundations modernnationality has been built up by means of the printing press, thetelegraph, and cheap postage. _So it has fallen out that just when theworld was becoming effectively cosmopolitan in its economicinterdependence, its scientific research, and its exchange of booksand art, the ancient tribal insolence has been developed on astupendous scale. _

The manner in which man has revolutionized his environment, habits ofconduct, and purposes of life by inventions is perhaps the mostastonishing thing in human history. It is an obscure and hithertorather neglected subject. But it is clear enough, from the little thathas been said here, that since the Middle Ages, and especially in thepast hundred years, science has so hastened the process of change thatit becomes increasingly difficult for man's common run of thinking tokeep pace with the radical alterations in his actual practices andconditions of living. 

 * * * * *

VII

 Peace sitting under her olive, and slurring the days gone by, When the poor are hovell'd and hustled together, each sex, like swine, When only the ledger lives, and when only not all men lie; Peace in her vineyard--yes!--but a company forges the wine. --TENNYSON. 

 Could great men thunder As Jove himself does, Jove would ne'er be quiet. For every pelting, petty officer Would use his heaven for thunder; Nothing but thunder! ... Man, proud man, Drest in a little brief authority, Most ignorant of what he's most assured, His glassy essence, like an angry ape, Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven As make the angels weep; who, with our spleens, Would all themselves laugh mortal. --SHAKESPEARE. 

14. "THE SICKNESS OF AN ACQUISITIVE SOCIETY"

It is so difficult a task to form any correct estimate of one's ownsurroundings, largely on account of our very familiarity with them, that historical students have generally evaded this responsibility. They have often declared that it was impossible to do sosatisfactorily. And yet no one will ever know more than we about whatis going on now. Some secrets may be revealed to coming generations, but plenty of our circumstances will be obscure to them. And itcertainly seems pusillanimous, if not hazardous, to depute to thoseyet unborn the task of comprehending the conditions under which wemust live and strive. I have long believed that the only unmistakablecontribution that the historical student can make to the progress ofintelligence is to study the past with an eye constantly on thepresent. For history not only furnishes us with the key to the presentby showing how our situation came about, but at the same time suppliesa basis of comparison and a point of vantage by virtue of which thesalient contrasts between our days and those of old can be detected. Without history the essential differences are sure to escape us. Ourgeneration, like all preceding generations of mankind, inevitablytakes what it finds largely for granted, and the great mass of men whoargue about existing conditions assume a fundamental likeness to pastconditions as the basis of their conclusions in regard to the presentand the still unrolled future. 

Such a procedure becomes more and more dangerous, for although acontinuity persists, there are more numerous, deeper and widerreaching contrasts between the world of to-day and that of a hundred, or even fifty, years ago, than have developed in any correspondinglapse of time since the beginning of civilization. This is not theplace even to sketch the novelties in our knowledge and circumstances, our problems and possibilities. No more can be done here than toillustrate in a single field of human interest the need of anunprecedentedly open mind in order to avail ourselves of existingresources in grasping and manipulating the problems forced upon us. 

Few people realize how novel is the almost universal preoccupationwith business which we can observe on every hand, but to which we arealready so accustomed that it easily escapes the casual observer. Butin spite of its vastness and magnificent achievements, business, basedupon mass production and speculative profits, has produced new evilsand reinforced old ones which no thoughtful person can possiblyoverlook. Consequently it has become the great issue of our time, thechief subject of discussion, to be defended or attacked according toone's tastes, even as religion and politics formerly had their day. 

Business men, whether conspicuous in manufacture, trade, or finance, are the leading figures of our age. They exercise a dominant influencein domestic and foreign policy; they subsidize our education and exertan unmistakable control over it. In other ages a military or religiouscaste enjoyed a similar pre-eminence. But now business directs andequips the soldier, who is far more dependent on its support thanformerly. Most religious institutions make easy terms with business, and, far from interfering with it or its teachings, on the wholecordially support it. Business has its philosophy, which it holds tobe based upon the immutable traits of human nature and as identicalwith morality and patriotism. It is a sensitive, intolerantphilosophy, of which something will be said in the following section. 

Modern business produced a sort of paradise for the luckier ofmankind, which endured down to the war, and which many hope to seerestored in its former charm, and perhaps further beautified as theyears go on. It represents one of the most startling of humanachievements. No doubt a great part of the population worked hard andlived in relative squalor, but even then they had many comfortsunknown to the toiling masses of previous centuries, and wereapparently fairly contented. 

 But escape was possible, for any man of capacity or character at all exceeding the average, into the middle or upper classes, for whom life offered, at a low cost and with the least trouble, conveniencies, comforts, and amenities beyond the compass of the richest and most powerful monarchs of other ages. The inhabitant of London could order by telephone, sipping his morning tea in bed, the various products of the whole earth, in such quantity as he might see fit, and reasonably expect their early delivery upon his doorstep; he could at the same moment and by the same means adventure his wealth in the natural resources and new enterprises of any quarter of the world, and share, without exertion or even trouble, in their prospective fruits and advantages.... He could secure forthwith, if he wished it, cheap and comfortable means of transit to any country or climate without passport or other formality, could dispatch his servant to the neighboring office of a bank for such supply of the precious metals as might seem convenient, and could then proceed abroad to foreign quarters, without knowledge of their religion, language, or customs, bearing coined wealth upon his person, and would consider himself greatly aggrieved and much surprised at the least interference. 

And most important of all, he could, before the war, regard this stateof affairs as

 ... Normal, certain, and permanent, except in the direction of further improvement, and any deviation from it as aberrant, scandalous, and avoidable. The projects and politics of militarism, and imperialism, of racial and cultural rivalries, of monopolies, restrictions, and exclusion, which were to play the serpent in this paradise, were little more than the amusements of his daily newspaper, and appeared to exercise almost no influence at all on the ordinary course of social and economic life, the internationalization of which was nearly complete in practice. [21]

This assumption of the permanence and normality of the prevailingbusiness system was much disturbed by the outcome of the war, but lessso, especially in this country, than might have been expected. It waseasy to argue that the terrible conflict merely interrupted thegenerally beneficent course of affairs which would speedilyre-establish itself when given an opportunity. To those who see thesituation in this light, modern business has largely solved theage-long problem of producing and distributing the materialnecessities and amenities of life; and nothing remains except toperfect the system in detail, develop its further potentialities, andfight tooth and nail those who are led by lack of personal success ora maudlin sympathy for the incompetent to attack and undermine it. 

On the other hand, there were many before the war, not themselvessuffering conspicuously from the system, who challenged itsbeneficence and permanence, in the name of justice, economy, and thebest and highest interests of mankind as a whole. Since the war manymore have come to the conclusion that business as now conducted is notmerely unfair, exceedingly wasteful, and often highly inexpedient froma social standpoint, but that from an historical standpoint it is"intensely unusual, unstable, complicated, unreliable, and temporary"(Keynes). It may prove to be the chief eccentricity of our age; quiteas impermanent as was the feudal and manorial system or the role ofthe mediaeval Church or of monarchs by the grace of God; and destinedto undergo changes which it is now quite impossible to forecast. 

In any case, economic issues are the chief and bitterest of our time. It is in connection with them that free thinking is most difficult andmost apt to be misunderstood, for they easily become confused with thetraditional reverences and sanctities of political fidelity, patriotism, morality, and even religion. There is somethinghumiliating about this situation, which subordinates all the variedpossibilities of life to its material prerequisites, much as if wewere again back in a stage of impotent savagery, scratching for rootsand looking for berries and dead animals. One of the most brilliant ofrecent English economists says with truth:

 The burden of our civilization is not merely, as many suppose, that the product of industry is ill-distributed, or its conduct tyrannical, or its operation interrupted by bitter disagreements. It is that industry itself has come to hold a position of exclusive predominance among human interests, which no single interest, and least of all the provision of the material means of existence, is fit to occupy. Like a hypochondriac who is so absorbed in the processes of his own digestion that he goes to the grave before he has begun to live, industrialized communities neglect the very objects for which it is worth while to acquire riches in their feverish preoccupation with the means by which riches can be acquired. 

 That obsession by economic issues is as local and transitory as it is repulsive and disturbing. To future generations it will appear as pitiable as the obsession of the seventeenth century by religious quarrels appears to-day; indeed, it is less rational, since the object with which it is concerned is less important. And it is a poison which inflames every wound and turns each trivial scratch into a malignant ulcer. [22]

Whatever may be the merits of the conflicting views of our businesssystem, there can be no doubt that it is agitating all types ofthoughtful men and women. Poets, dramatists, and story writers turnaside from their old _motifs_ to play the role of economists. Psychologists, biologists, chemists, engineers, are as never beforestriving to discover the relation between their realms of informationand the general problems of social and industrial organization. Andhere is a historical student allowing the dust to collect on mediaevalchronicles, church histories, and even seventeenth-centuryrationalists, once fondly perused, in order to see if he can come tosome terms with the profit system. And why not? Are we not allimplicated? We all buy and many sell, and no one is left untouched bya situation which can in two or three years halve our incomes, withoutfault of ours. But before seeking to establish the bearing of theprevious sections of this volume on our attitude toward the puzzles ofour day, we must consider more carefully the "good reasons" commonlyurged in defense of the existing system. 

15. THE PHILOSOPHY OF SAFETY AND SANITY

So far we have been mainly engaged in recalling the process by whichman has accumulated such a mind as he now has, and the effects of thisaccumulation on his mode of life. Under former conditions (which arenow passing away) and in a state of ignorance about highly essentialmatters (which are now being put in quite a new light) he establishedcertain standards and practices in his political, social, andindustrial life. His views of property, government, education, therelations of the sexes, and various other matters he reaffirms andperpetuates by means of schools, colleges, churches, newspapers, andmagazines, which in order to be approved and succeed must concur inand ratify these established standards and practices and the currentnotions of good and evil, right and wrong. This is what happened inthe past, and to the great majority of people this still seems to bethe only means of "safeguarding society". Before subjecting thisattitude of mind to further criticism it will be helpful to see howthose argue who fail to perceive the vicious circle involved. 

The war brought with it a burst of unwonted and varied animation. Those who had never extended their activities beyond the usual routineof domestic and professional life suddenly found themselvesparticipating in a vast enterprise in which they seemed to bebroadening their knowledge and displaying undreamed of capacity forco-operation with their fellows. Expressions of high idealism exaltedus above the petty cares of our previous existence, roused newambitions, and opened up an exhilarating perspective of possibilityand endeavor. It was common talk that when the foe, whose criminallust for power had precipitated the mighty tragedy, should bevanquished, things would "no longer be the same". All would then agreethat war was the abomination of abominations, the world would be madesafe for right-minded democracy, and the nations would unite insmiling emulation. 

Never did bitterer disappointment follow high hopes. All the oldhabits of nationalistic policy reasserted themselves at Versailles. Afrightened and bankrupt world could indeed hardly be expected toexhibit greater intelligence than the relatively happy and orderly onewhich had five years earlier allowed its sanctified traditions to dragit over the edge of the abyss. Then there emerged from the autocracyof the Tsars the dictatorship of the proletariat, and in Hungary andGermany various startling attempts to revolutionize hastily andexcessively that ancient order which the Hapsburg and Hohenzollernrulers had managed to perpetuate in spite of all modern novelties. Thereal character of these movements was ill understood in our country, but it was inevitable that with man's deep-seated animistic tendenciesthey should appear as a sort of wicked demon or a deadly contagionwhich might attack even our own land unless prevented by timelymeasures. War had naturally produced its machinery for dealing withdissenters, sympathizers with the enemy, and those who deprecated oropposed war altogether; and it was the easiest thing in the world toextend the repression to those who held exceptional or unpopularviews, like the Socialists and members of the I. W. W. It was plausibleto charge these associations with being under the guidance offoreigners, with "pacificism" and a general tendency to disloyalty. But suspicion went further so as to embrace members of a rather small, thoughtful class who, while rarely socialistic, were confessedlyskeptical in regard to the general beneficence of existinginstitutions, and who failed to applaud at just the right points tosuit the taste of the majority of their fellow-citizens. So thegeneral impression grew up that there was a sort of widespreadconspiracy to overthrow the government by violence or, at least, adangerous tendency to prepare the way for such a disaster, or at anyrate a culpable indifference to its possibility. 

Business depression reinforced a natural reaction which had set inwith the sudden and somewhat unexpected close of the war. The unwontedexcitement brought on a national headache, and a sedative in the formof normalcy was proffered by the Republican party and thankfullyaccepted by the country at large. Under these circumstances thephilosophy of safety and sanity was formulated. It is familiar andreassuring and puts no disagreeable task of mental and emotionalreadjustment on those who accept it. Hence its inevitable popularityand obvious soundness. 

And these are its presuppositions: No nation is comparable to our ownin its wealth and promise, in its freedom and opportunity for all. Ithas opened its gates to the peoples of the earth, who have flockedacross the ocean to escape the poverty and oppression of Europe. Fromthe scattered colonies of the pre-revolutionary period the UnitedStates has rapidly advanced to its world ascendancy. When the Europeanpowers had reached a hopeless stalemate after four years of war theUnited States girded on the sword as the champion of liberty anddemocracy and in an incredibly short time brought the conflict to avictorious close before she had dispatched half the troops she couldeasily have spared. She had not entered the conflict with any motivesof aggrandizement or of territorial extension. She felt herself-sufficiency and could well afford proudly to refuse to join theLeague of Nations on the ground that she did not wish to be involvedin European wrangles or sacrifice a tittle of her rights ofself-determination. 

The prosperity of the United States is to be attributed largely to theexcellence of the Federal Constitution and the soundness of herdemocratic institutions. Class privileges do not exist, or at leastare not recognized. Everyone has equal opportunity to rise in theworld unhampered by the shackles of European caste. There is perfectfreedom in matters of religious belief. Liberty of speech and of thepress is confirmed by both the Federal Constitution and theconstitutions of the various states. If people are not satisfied withtheir form of government they may at any time alter it by a peacefulexercise of the suffrage. 

In no other country is morality more highly prized or stoutlydefended. Woman is held in her proper esteem and the institution ofthe family everywhere recognized as fundamental. We are singularlyfree from the vices which disgrace the capitals of Europe, notexcepting London. 

In no other country is the schoolhouse so assuredly acknowledged to bethe corner stone of democracy and liberty. Our higher institutions oflearning are unrivaled; our public libraries numerous and accessible. Our newspapers and magazines disseminate knowledge and rationalpleasure throughout the land. 

We are an ingenious people in the realm of invention and in theboldness of our business enterprise. We have the sturdy virtues of thepioneer. We are an honest people, keeping our contracts and givingfair measure. We are a tireless people in the patient attention tobusiness and the laudable resolve to rise in the world. Many of ourrichest men began on the farm or as office boys. Success depends inour country almost exclusively on native capacity, which is rewardedhere with a prompt and cheerful recognition which is rare in otherlands. 

We are a progressive people, always ready for improvements, whichindeed we take for granted, so regularly do they make theirappearance. No alert American can visit any foreign country withoutnoting innumerable examples of stupid adherence to outworn andcumbrous methods in industry, commerce, and transportation. 

Of course no one is so blind as not to see that here and there evilsdevelop which should be remedied, either by legislation or by thegradual advance in enlightenment. Many of them will doubtless curethemselves. Our democracy is right at heart and you cannot fool allthe people all the time. We have not escaped our fair quota oftroubles. It would be too much to expect that we should. Thedifference of opinion between the Northern and Southern statesactually led to civil war, but this only served to confirm the naturalunity of the country and prepare the way for further advance. Protestants have sometimes dreaded a Catholic domination; the Mormonshave been a source of anxiety to timid souls. Populists and advocatesof free silver have seemed to threaten sound finance. On the otherhand, Wall Street and the trusts have led some to think that corporatebusiness enterprise may at times, if left unhampered, lead toover-powerful monopolies. But the evil workings of all these thingshad before the war been peaceful, if insidious. They might rouseapprehension in the minds of far-sighted and public-spiritedobservers, but there had been no general fear that any of them wouldoverthrow the Republic and lead to a violent destruction of society asnow constituted and mayhap to a reversion to barbarism. 

The circumstances of our participation in the World War and the riseof Bolshevism convinced many for the first time that at last societyand the Republic were actually threatened. Heretofore the socialistsof various kinds, the communists and anarchists, had attractedrelatively little attention in our country. Except for the Chicagoanarchist episode and the troubles with the I. W. W. , radical reformershad been left to go their way, hold their meetings, and publish theirnewspapers and pamphlets with no great interference on the part of thepolice or attention on the part of lawgivers. With the progress of thewar this situation changed; police and lawgivers began to interfere, and government officials and self-appointed guardians of the publicweal began to denounce the "reds" and those suspected of "radicaltendencies". The report of the Lusk Committee in the state of New Yorkis perhaps the most imposing monument to this form of patriotic zeal. 

It is not our business here to discuss the merits of Socialism orBolshevism either from the standpoint of their underlying theories ortheir promise in practice. It is only in their effects in developingand substantiating the philosophy of safety and sanity that theyconcern us in this discussion. 

Whether the report of the so-called Lusk Committee[23] has anyconsiderable influence or no, it well illustrates a common andsignificant frame of mind and an habitual method of reasoning. Theostensible aim of the report is:

 ... To give a clear, unbiased statement and history of the purposes and objects, tactics and methods, of the various forces now at work in the United States, and particularly within the state of New York, which are seeking to undermine and destroy, not only the government under which we live, but also the very structure of American society. It also seeks to analyze the various constructive forces which are at work throughout the country counteracting these evil influences, and to present the many industrial and social problems that these constructive forces must meet and are meeting. 

The plan is executed with laborious comprehensiveness, and oneunacquainted with the vast and varied range of so-called "radical"utterances will be overwhelmed by the mass brought together. But ouraim here is to consider the attitude of mind and assumptions of theeditors and their sympathizers. 

They admit the existence of "real grievances and natural demands ofthe working classes for a larger share in the management and use ofthe common wealth". It is these grievances and demands which theagitators use as a basis of their machinations. Those bent on a socialrevolution fall into two classes--socialists and anarchists. But whilethe groups differ in detail, these details are not worth considering. "Anyone who studies the propaganda of the various groups which we havenamed will learn that the arguments employed are the same; that thetactics advocated cannot be distinguished from one another, and thatarticles, or speeches made on the question of tactics or methods byanarchists, could, with propriety, be published in socialist, orcommunist newspapers without offending the membership of theseorganizations. " So, fortunately for the reader, it is unnecessary tomake any distinctions between socialists, anarchists, communists, andBolsheviki. They all have the common purpose of overthrowing existingsociety and "general strikes and sabotage are the direct meansadvocated". The object is to drive business into bankruptcy byreducing production and raising costs. [24]

But it would be a serious mistake to assume that the dangers areconfined to our industrial system. "The very first general fact thatmust be driven home to Americans is that the pacifist movement in thiscountry, the growth and connections of which are an important part ofthis report, is an absolutely integral and fundamental part ofinternational socialism. " European socialism, from which ours isderived, has had for one of its main purposes "the creation of aninternational sentiment to supersede national patriotism and effort, and this internationalism was based upon pacificism, in the sense thatit opposed all wars between nations and developed at the same timeclass consciousness that was to culminate in relentless class warfare. In other words, it was not really peace that was the goal, but theabolition of the patriotic, warlike spirit of nationalities". 

In view of the necessity of making head against this menace theCriminal Anarchy statute of the State of New York was invoked, searchwarrants issued, "large quantities of revolutionary, incendiary andseditious written and printed matter were seized". After the refusalof Governor Smith to sign them, the so-called Lusk educational billswere repassed and signed by the Republican Governor Miller. No teacherin the schools shall be licensed to teach who "has advocated, eitherby word of mouth or in writing, a form of government other than thegovernment of the United States or of this state". Moreover, "Noperson, firm, corporation, association, or society shall conduct, maintain, or operate any school, institute, class, or course ofinstruction in any subject without making application for and beinggranted a license from the University of the State of New York [_i. E_. The Regents]. " The Regents shall have the right to send inspectorsto visit classes and schools so licensed and to revoke licenses ifthey deem that an overthrow of the existing government by violence isbeing taught. [25]

But the safe and sane philosophy by no means stops with the convenientand compendious identification of socialists of all kinds, anarchists, pacificists and internationalists, as belonging to one threateninggroup united in a like-minded attempt to overthrow society as we nowknow it. This class includes, it may be observed, such seeminglydistinguishable personalities as Trotzky and Miss Jane Addams, who areassumed to be in essential harmony upon the great issue. But there aremany others who are perhaps the innocent tools of the socialists. These include teachers, lecturers, writers, clergymen, and editors towhom the Lusk report devotes a long section on "the spread of socialismin educated circles". It is the purpose of this section

 ... To show the use made by members of the Socialist Party of America and other extreme radicals and revolutionaries of pacifist sentiment among people of education and culture in the United States as a vehicle for the promotion of revolutionary socialistic propaganda. The facts here related are important because they show that these socialists, playing upon the pacifist sentiment in a large body of sincere persons, were able to organize their energies and capitalize their prestige for the spread of their doctrines. [P. 969. ]

An instance of this is an article in the _New Republic_ which:

 ... Includes more or less open attacks on Attorney-General Palmer, Mr. Lansing, the House Immigration Committee, the New York _Times_, Senator Fall, this Committee, etc. It also quotes the dissenting opinions in the Abrams case of Justices Holmes and Brandeis, and ends by making light of the danger of revolution in America: ... This belittling of the very real danger to the institutions of this country, as well as the attempted discrediting of any investigating group (or individual), has become thoroughly characteristic of our "Parlor Bolshevik" or "Intelligentsia". [P. 1103. ]

So it comes about, as might indeed have been foreseen from the first, that one finds himself, if not actually violating the criminal anarchystatute, at least branded as a Bolshevik if he speaks slightingly ofthe New York _Times_ or recalls the dissenting opinion of two judgesof the Supreme Court. 

Moreover, as might have been anticipated, the issues prove to be atbottom not so much economic as moral and religious, for "Materialismand its formidable sons, Anarchy, Bolshevism, and Unrest, have throwndown the gauge of battle" to all decency. 

 ... What is of the greatest importance for churchmen to understand, in order that they may not be led astray by specious arguments of so-called Christian Socialists and so-called liberals and self-styled partisans of free speech, is that socialism as a system, as well as anarchism and all its ramifications, from high-brow Bolshevism to the Russian Anarchist Association, are all the declared enemies of religion and all recognized moral standards and restraints. [P. 1124. ]

We must not be misled by "false, specious idealism masquerading asprogress". The fight is one for God as well as country, in which allforms of radicalism, materialism, and anarchy should be fiercely andpromptly stamped out. [26]

NOTES. 

[21] Keynes, _The Economic Consequences of the Peace_, pp. 11-12. 

[22] Tawney, R. H. , _The Acquisitive Society_, pp. 183-184. Theoriginal title of this admirable little work, a Fabian tract, was, _The Sickness of an Acquisitive Society_, but the American publishersevidently thought it inexpedient to stress the contention of theauthor that modern society has anything fundamentally the matter withit. 

[23] _Revolutionary Radicalism, Its History, Purpose, and Tactics:with an exposition and discussion of the steps being taken andrequired to curb it, being the report of the Joint LegislativeCommittee investigating seditious activities, filed April 24, 1920, inthe Senate of the state of New York. _ This comprises four stoutvolumes (over 4, 200 pages in all) divided into two parts, dealing, respectively, with "Revolutionary and Subversive Movements at Home andAbroad" and "Constructive Movements and Measures in America". Albany, 1920. 

[24] "While the nature of this investigation has led the committee tolay its emphasis upon the activities of subversive organizations, itfeels that this report would not be complete if it did not stateemphatically that it believes that those persons in business andcommercial enterprise and certain owners of property who seek to takeadvantage of the situation to reap inordinate gain from the publiccontribute in no small part to the social unrest which affords theradical a field of operation which otherwise would be closed to him. "(P. 10. )

[25] The general history throughout the United States of these andsimilar measures, the interference with public meetings, the trials, imprisonments, and censorship, are all set forth in ProfessorChaffee's _Freedom of Speech_, 1920. 

[26] During the summer of 1921 the Vice-President of the United Statespublished in _The Delineator_ a series of three articles on "Enemiesof the Republic", in which he considers the question, "Are the 'reds'stalking our college women?" He finds some indications that they are, and warns his readers that, "Adherence to radical doctrines means theultimate breaking down of the old, sturdy virtues of manhood andwomanhood, the insidious destruction of character, the weakening ofthe moral fiber of the individual, and the destruction of thefoundations of society. " It may seem anomalous to some that thedefenders of the old, sturdy virtues should so carelessly brand honestand thoughtful men and women, of whose opinions they can have no realknowledge, as "enemies of the Republic"--but there is nothing whateveranomalous in this. It has been the habit of defenders of the sturdy, old virtues from time immemorial to be careless of others'reputations. 

 * * * * *

VIII

 Dans les sciences politiques, il est un ordre de vérités qui, surtout chez les peuples libres ... Ne peuvent être utiles, que lorsqu'elles sont généralement connues et avouées. Ainsi, l'influence du progrês de ces sciences sur la liberté, sur la prospérité des nations, doivent en quelque sorts se mesurer sur le nombre de ces vérités qui, par l'effet d'une instruction élémentaire, deviennent commune à tous les esprits; ainsi les progrès toujours croissants de cette instruction élémentaire, liés eux mêmes aux progrès nécessaires de ces sciences, nous répondent d'une amélioration dans les destinées de l'espèce humaine qui peut être regardée comme indéfinie, puisqu'elle n'a d'autres limites que celles de ces progrès mêmes. --CONDORCET. 

16. SOME HISTORICAL REFLECTIONS ON THE PHILOSOPHY OF REPRESSION

Of course the kind of reasoning and the presuppositions described inthe previous section will appeal to many readers as an illustration ofexcessive and unjustifiable fear lest the present order be disturbed--a frenzied impulse to rush to the defense of our threatenedinstitutions. Doubtless the Lusk report may quite properly be classedas a mere episode in war psychology. Having armed to put down theGermans and succeeded in so doing, the ardor of conflict does notimmediately abate, but new enemies are sought and easily discovered. The hysteria of repression will probably subside, but it is now awell-recognized fact that in disease, whether organic or mental, theabnormal and excessive are but instructive exaggerations andperversions of the usual course of things. They do not exist bythemselves, but represent the temporary and exaggerated functioning ofbodily and mental processes. The real question for us here is notwhether Senator Lusk is too fearful and too indiscriminate in hisdenunciations, but whether he and his colleagues do not merely furnishan overcharged and perhaps somewhat grotesque instance of man'snatural and impulsive way of dealing with social problems. It seems tome that enough has already been said to lead us to suspect this. 

At the outset of this volume the statement was hazarded that if onlymen could come to look at things differently from the way they nowgenerally do, a number of our most shocking evils would either remedythemselves or show themselves subject to gradual elimination orhopeful reduction. Among these evils a very fundamental one is thedefensive attitude toward the criticism of our existing order and thenaïve tendency to class critics as enemies of society. It was arguedthat a fuller understanding of the history of the race wouldcontribute to that essential freedom of mind which would welcomecriticism and permit fair judgments of its merits. Having reviewed thearguments of those who would suppress criticism lest it lead toviolence and destruction, we may now properly recall in thisconnection certain often neglected historical facts which serve toweaken if not to discredit most of these arguments. 

Man has never been able to adapt himself very perfectly to hiscivilization, and there has always been a deal of injustice andmaladjustment which might conceivably have been greatly decreased byintelligence. But now it would seem that this chronic distress hasbecome acute, and some careful observers express the quite honestconviction that unless thought be raised to a far higher plane thanhitherto, some great setback to civilization is inevitable. 

Yet instead of subjecting traditional ideas and rules to athoroughgoing reconsideration, our impulse is, as we have seen, tohasten to justify existing and habitual notions of human conduct. There are many who flatter themselves that by suppressing so-called"radical" thought and its diffusion, the present system can be made towork satisfactorily on the basis of ideas of a hundred or a hundredthousand years ago. 

While we have permitted our free thought in the natural sciences totransform man's old world, we allow our schools and even ouruniversities to continue to inculcate beliefs and ideals which may ormay not have been appropriate to the past, but which are clearlyanachronisms now. For, the "social science" taught in our schools is, it would appear, an orderly presentation of the conventionalproprieties, rather than a summons to grapple with the novel anddisconcerting facts that surround us on every side. 

At the opening of the twentieth century the so-called sciences of man, despite some progress, are, as has been pointed out, in much the sameposition that the natural sciences were some centuries earlier. Hobbessays of the scholastic philosophy that it went on one brazen leg andone of an ass. This seems to be our plight to-day. Our scientific legis lusty and grows in strength daily; its fellow member--our thoughtof man and his sorry estate--is capricious and halting. We have notrealized the hopes of the eighteenth-century "illumination", whenconfident philosophers believed that humanity was shaking off itsancient chains; that the clouds of superstition were lifting, and thatwith the new achievements of science man would boldly and rapidlyadvance toward hitherto undreamed-of concord and happiness. We can nolonger countenance the specious precision of the English classicalschool of economics, whose premises have been given the lie by furtherthought and experience. We have really to start anew. 

The students of natural phenomena early realized the arduous path theyhad to travel. They had to escape, above all things, from the past. They perceived that they could look for no help from those whosespecial business it was to philosophize and moralize in terms of thepast. They had to look for light in their own way and in thedirections from which they conjectured it might come. Their firstobject was, as Bacon put it, _light_, not _fruit_. They had to learnbefore they could undertake changes, and Descartes is very careful tosay that philosophic doubt was not to be carried over to dailyconduct. This should for the time being conform to accepted standards, unenlightened as they might be. 

Such should be the frame of mind of one who seeks insight into humanaffairs. His subject matter is, however, far more intricate andunmanageable than that of the natural scientist. Experiment on whichnatural science has reared itself is by no means so readily applicablein studying mankind and its problems. The student of humanity has evenmore inveterate prejudices to overcome, more inherent and cultivatedweaknesses of the mind to guard against, than the student of nature. Like the early scientists, he has a scholastic tradition to combat. Hecan look for little help from the universities as now constituted. Theclergy, although less sensitive in regard to what they find in theBible, are still stoutly opposed, on the whole, to any thoroughgoingcriticism of the standards of morality to which they are accustomed. Few lawyers can view their profession with any considerable degree ofdetachment. Then there are the now all-potent business interests, backed by the politicians and in general supported by theecclesiastical, legal, and educational classes. Many of the newspapersand magazines are under their influence, since they are become thebusiness man's heralds and live off his bounty. 

Business indeed has almost become our religion; it is defended by thecivil government even as the later Roman emperors and the mediaevalprinces protected the Church against attack. Socialists and communistsare the Waldensians and Albigensians of our day, heretics to be castout, suppressed, and deported to Russia, if not directly to hell as ofold. 

The Secret Service seems inclined to play the part of a modernInquisition, which protects our new religion. Collected in itsinnumerable files is the evidence in regard to suspected heretics whohave dared impugn "business as usual", or who have dwelt too lovinglyon peace and good will among nations. Books and pamphlets, although nolonger burned by the common hangman, are forbidden the mails bysomewhat undiscerning officials. We have a pious vocabulary of highresentment and noble condemnation, even as they had in the MiddleAges, and part of it is genuine, if unintelligent, as it was then. 

Such are some of the obstacles which the student of human affairs mustsurmount. Yet we may hope that it will become increasingly clear thatthe repression of criticism (even if such criticism becomesfault-finding and takes the form of a denunciation of existing habitsand institutions) is inexpedient and inappropriate to the situation inwhich the world finds itself. Let us assume that such people as reallyadvocate lawlessness and disorder should be carefully watched andchecked if they promise to be a cause of violence and destruction. Butis it not possible to distinguish between them and those who questionand even arraign with some degree of heat the standardized unfairnessand maladjustments of our times?

And there is another class who cannot by any exaggeration beconsidered agitators, who have by taking thought come to see that ourconditions have so altered in the past hundred years and our knowledgeso increased that the older ways of doing and viewing things are notonly unreasonable, but actually dangerous. But so greatly has thehysteria of war unsettled the public mind that even this latter classis subject to discreditable accusations and some degree ofinterference. 

We constantly hear it charged that this or that individual or groupadvocates the violent overthrow of government, is not loyal to theConstitution, or is openly or secretly working for the abolition ofprivate property or the family, or, in general, is supposed to beeager to "overturn everything without having anything to put in itsplace". 

The historical student may well recommend that we be on our guardagainst such accusations brought against groups and individuals. Forthe student of history finds that it has always been the custom tocharge those who happened to be unpopular, with holding beliefs anddoing things which they neither believed nor did. Socrates wasexecuted for corrupting youth and infidelity to the gods; Jesus forproposing to overthrow the government; Luther was to the officials ofhis time one who taught "a loose, self-willed life, severed from alllaws and wholly brutish". 

Those who questioned the popular delusions in regard to witchcraftwere declared by clergymen, professors, and judges of the seventeenthcentury to be as good as atheists, who shed doubt on the devil'sexistence in order to lead their godless lives without fear of futureretribution. How is it possible, in view of this inveterate habit ofmankind, to accept at its face value what the police or Department ofJustice, or self-appointed investigators, choose to report of theteachings of people who are already condemned in their eyes?

Of course the criticism of accepted ideas is offensive and will longremain so. After all, talk and writing are forms of conduct, and, likeall conduct, are inevitably disagreeable when they depart from thecurrent standards of respectable behavior. To talk as if ourestablished notions of religion, morality, and property, our ideas ofstealing and killing, were defective and in need of revision, isindeed more shocking than to violate the current rules of action. Forwe are accustomed to actual crimes, misdemeanors, and sins, which arehappening all the time, but we will not tolerate any suspected attemptto palliate them in theory. 

It is inevitable that new views should appear to the thoughtless to bejustifications or extenuations of evil actions and an encouragement ofviolence and rebellion, and that they will accordingly be bitterlydenounced. But there is no reason why an increase of intelligenceshould not put a growing number of us on our guard against thisancient pitfall. 

If we are courageously to meet and successfully to overcome thedangers with which our civilization is threatened, it is clear that weneed _more mind_ than ever before. It is also clear that we can haveindefinitely more mind than we already have if we but honestly desireit and avail ourselves of resources already at hand. Mind, aspreviously defined, is our "conscious knowledge and intelligence, whatwe know and our attitude toward it--our disposition to increase ourinformation, classify it, criticize it, and apply it". _It is obviousthat in this sense the mind is a matter of accumulation and that ithas been in the making ever since man took his first step incivilization. _ I have tried to suggest the manner in which man's longhistory illuminates our plight and casts light on the path to befollowed. And history is beginning to take account of the knowledge ofman's nature and origin contributed by the biologist and theanthropologist and the newer psychologists. 

Few people realize the hopeful revolution that is already beginning toinfluence the aims and methods of all these sciences of man. Noprevious generation of thinkers has been so humble on the whole as isthat of to-day, so ready to avow their ignorance and to recognize thetendency of each new discovery to reveal further complexities in theproblem. On the other hand, we are justified in feeling that at lastwe have the chance to start afresh. We are freer than any previous agefrom the various prepossessions and prejudices which we now seehampered the so-called "free" thinking of the eighteenth century. 

The standards and mood of natural science are having an increasinginfluence in stimulating eager research into human nature, beliefs, and institutions. With Bacon's recommendations of the study of common_things_ the human mind entered a new stage of development. Now thathistoric forces have brought the common _man_ to the fore, we aresubmitting him to scientific study and gaining thereby that elementaryknowledge of his nature which needs to be vastly increased and spreadabroad, since it can form the only possible basis for a successful andreal democracy. 

I would not have the reader infer that I overrate the place of scienceor exact knowledge in the life of man. Science, which is but the mostaccurate information available about the world in which we live andthe nature of ourselves and of our fellow men, is not the whole oflife; and except to a few peculiar persons it can never be the mostabsorbing and vivid of our emotional satisfactions. We are poetic andartistic and romantic and mystical. We resent the cold analysis andreduction of life to the commonplace and well substantiated--and thisis after all is said, the aim of scientific endeavor. But we have toadjust ourselves to a changing world in the light of constantlyaccumulating knowledge. It is knowledge that has altered the world andwe must rely on knowledge and understanding to accommodate ourselvesto our new surroundings and establish peace and order and security forthe pursuit of those things that to most of us are more enticing thanscience itself. [27]

No previous generation has been so perplexed as ours, but none hasever been justified in holding higher hopes if it could but reconcileitself to making bold and judicious use of its growing resources, material and intellectual. _It is fear that holds us back. _ And fearis begotten of ignorance and uncertainty. And these mutually reinforceone another, for we feebly try to condone our ignorance by ouruncertainty and to excuse our uncertainty by our ignorance. 

Our hot defense of our ideas and beliefs does not indicate anestablished confidence in them but often half-distrust, which we tryto hide from ourselves, just as one who suffers from bashfulnessoffsets his sense of inferiority and awkwardness by rude aggression. If, for example, religious beliefs had been really firmly establishedthere would have been no need of "aids to faith"; and so with ourbusiness system to-day, our politics and international relations. Wedread to see things as they would appear if we thought of themhonestly, for it is the nature of critical thought to metamorphose ourfamiliar and approved world into something strange and unfamiliar. Itis undoubtedly a nervous sense of the precariousness of the existingsocial system which accounts for the present strenuous opposition to afair and square consideration of its merits and defects. 

Partisanship is our great curse. We too readily assume that everythinghas two sides and that it is our duty to be on one or the other. Wemust be defending or attacking something; only the lily-livered hidetheir natural cowardice by asking the impudent question, What is itall about? The heroic gird on the armor of the Lord, square theirshoulders, and establish a muscular tension which serves to dispeldoubt and begets the voluptuousness of bigotry and fanaticism. [28] Inthis mood questions become issues of right and wrong, not ofexpediency and inexpediency. It has been said that the worthy peopleof Cambridge are able promptly to reduce the most complex social oreconomic problem to a simple moral issue, and this is a wile of theFather of Lies, to which many of us yield readily enough. 

It is, however, possible for the individual to overcome the fear ofthought. Once I was afraid that men might think too much; now, I onlydread lest they will think too little and far too timidly, for I nowsee that real thinking is rare and difficult and that it needs everyincentive in the face of innumerable ancient and inherentdiscouragements and impediments. We must first endeavor manfully tofree our own minds and then do what we can to hearten others to freetheirs. _Toujours de l'audace!_ As members of a race that has requiredfrom five hundred thousand to a million years to reach its presentstate of enlightenment, there is little reason to think that anyone ofus is likely to cultivate intelligence too assiduously or in harmfulexcess. 

17. WHAT OF IT?

Our age is one of unprecedented responsibility. As Mr. Lippmann has sowell said:

 Never before have we had to rely so completely on ourselves. No guardian to think for us, no precedent to follow without question, no lawmaker above, only ordinary men set to deal with heartbreaking perplexity. All weakness comes to the surface. We are homeless in a jungle of machines and untamed powers that haunt and lure the imagination. Of course our culture is confused, our thinking spasmodic, and our emotion out of kilter. No mariner ever enters upon a more uncharted sea than does the average human being born in the twentieth century. Our ancestors thought they knew their way from birth through all eternity; we are puzzled about day after to-morrow.... It is with emancipation that real tasks begin, and liberty is a searching challenge, for it takes away the guardianship of the master and the comfort of the priest. The iconoclasts did not free us. They threw us into the water, and now we have to swim. [29]

We must look forward to ever new predicaments and adventures. _Nothingis going to be settled in the sense in which things were once supposedto be settled, for the simple reason that knowledge will probablycontinue to increase and will inevitably alter the world with which wehave to make terms_. The only thing that might conceivably remainsomewhat stabilized is an attitude of mind and unflagging expectancyappropriate to the terms and the rules according to which life's gamemust hereafter be played. We must promote a new cohesion andco-operation on the basis of this truth. And this means that we havenow to substitute purpose for tradition, and this is a concisestatement of the great revolution which we face. 

 Now, when all human institutions so slowly and laboriously evolved are impugned, every consensus challenged, every creed flouted, as much as and perhaps even more than by the ancient Sophists, the call comes to us ... To explore, test, and, if necessary, reconstruct the very bases of conviction, for all open questions are new opportunities. Old beacon lights have shifted or gone out. Some of the issues we lately thought to be minor have taken on cosmic dimensions. We are all "up against" questions too big for us, so that there is everywhere a sense of insufficiency which is too deep to be fully deployed in the narrow field of consciousness. Hence, there is a new discontent with old leaders, standards, criteria, methods, and values, and a demand everywhere for new ones, a realization that mankind must now reorient itself and take its bearings from the eternal stars and sail no longer into the unknown future by the dead reckonings of the past. [30]

Life, in short, has become a solemn sporting proposition--solemnenough in its heavy responsibilities and the magnitude of the stakesto satisfy our deepest religious longings; sporty enough to tickle thefancy of a baseball fan or an explorer in darkest Borneo. We can playthe game or refuse to play it. At present most of human organization, governmental, educational, social, and religious, is directed, as italways has been, to holding things down, and to perpetuating beliefsand policies which belong to the past and have been but too gingerlyreadjusted to our new knowledge and new conditions. On the other hand, there are various scientific associations which are bent on revisingand amplifying our knowledge and are not pledged to keeping alive anybelief or method which cannot stand the criticism which comes withfurther information. The terrible fear of falling into mererationalizing is gradually extending from the so-called naturalsciences to psychology, anthropology, politics, and political economy. All this is a cheering response to the new situation. 

But, as has been pointed out, really honest discussion of our social, economic, and political standards and habits readily takes on thesuspicion of heresy and infidelity. Just as the "freethinker" who, inthe eighteenth century, strove to discredit miracles in the name of anall-wise and foreseeing God (who could not be suspected of tamperingwith his own laws), was accused of being an atheist and of reallybelieving in no God at all; so those who would ennoble our ideals ofsocial organization are described as "Intellectuals" or "parlorBolshevists" who would overthrow society and all the achievements ofthe past in order to free themselves from moral and religiousrestraints and mayhap "get something for nothing". The parallel isvery exact indeed. 

The Church always argued that there were no new heresies. All would, on examination, prove to be old and discredited. So the Vice-Presidentof the United States has recently declared that:

 Men have experimented with radical theories in great and small ways times without number and always, always with complete failure. They are not new; they are old. Each failure has demonstrated anew that without effort there is no success. The race never gets something for nothing. [31]

But is this not a complete reversal of the obvious truth? Unless wedefine "radical" as that which never does succeed, how can anyone withthe most elementary notions of history fail to see that almost all thethings that we prize to-day represent revolts against tradition, andwere in their beginnings what seemed to be shocking divergences fromcurrent beliefs and practices? What about Christianity, andProtestantism, and constitutional government, and the rejection of oldsuperstitions and the acceptance of modern scientific ideas? The racehas always been getting something for nothing, for creative thoughtis, as we have seen, confined to a very few. And it has been thecustom to discourage or kill those who prosecuted it too openly, notto reward them according to their merits. 

One cannot but wonder at this constantly recurring phrase "gettingsomething for nothing", as if it were the peculiar and perverseambition of disturbers of society. Except for our animal outfit, practically all we have is handed to us gratis. Can the mostcomplacent reactionary flatter himself that he invented the art ofwriting or the printing press, or discovered his religious, economic, and moral convictions, or any of the devices which supply him withmeat and raiment or any of the sources of such pleasure as he mayderive from literature or the fine arts? In short, civilization islittle else than getting something for nothing. Like other vestedinterests, it is "the legitimate right to something for nothing". [32]How much execrable reasoning and how many stupid accusations wouldfall away if this truth were accepted as a basis of discussion! Ofcourse there is no more flagrant example of a systematic endeavor toget something for nothing than the present business system based onprofits, and absentee ownership of stocks. 

Since the invention of printing, and indeed long before, those fearfulof change have attempted to check criticism by attacking books. Thesewere classified as orthodox or heterodox, moral or immoral, treasonable or loyal, according to their tone. Unhappily this habitcontinues and shows itself in the distinction between sound andunsound, radical and conservative, safe and dangerous. The sensiblequestion to ask about a book is obviously whether it makes somecontribution to a clearer understanding of our situation by adding orreaffirming important considerations and the inferences to be madefrom these. Such books could be set off against those that were butexpressions of vague discontent or emulation, or denunciations ofthings because they are as they are or are not as they are not. I havepersonally little confidence in those who cry lo here or lo there. Itis premature to advocate any wide sweeping reconstruction of thesocial order, although experiments and suggestions should not bediscouraged. What we need first is a change of heart and a chastenedmood which will permit an ever increasing number of people to seethings as they are, in the light of what they have been and what theymight be. The dogmatic socialist with his unhistorical assumptions ofclass struggle, his exaggerated economic interpretation of history, and his notion that labor is the sole producer of capital, is sheddingscarcely more light on the actual situation than is the Lusk Committeeand Mr. Coolidge, with their confidence in the sacredness of privateproperty, as they conceive it, in the perennial rightness andinspiration of existing authority and the blessedness of the profitsystem. But there are plenty of writers, to mention only a few of themore recent ones, like Veblen, Dewey, J. A. Hobson, Tawney, Cole, Havelock Ellis, Bertrand Russell, Graham Wallas, who may or may nothave (or ever have had) any confidence in the presuppositions andforecasts of socialism, whose books do make clearer to any fair-mindedreader the painful exigencies of our own times. 

I often think of the economic historians of, say, two centuries hencewho may find time to dig up the vestiges of the economic literature ofto-day. We may in imagination appeal to their verdicts and in somecases venture to forecast them. Many of our writers they will throwaside as dominated by a desire merely to save the ill-understoodpresent at all costs; others as attempting to realize plans which werealready discredited in their own day. Future historians will, nevertheless, clearly distinguish a few who, by a sort of persistentand ardent detachment, were able to see things close at hand morefully and truly than their fellows and endeavored to do what theycould to lead their fellows to perceive and reckon with the factswhich so deeply concerned them. Blessed be those who aspire to winthis glory. On the monument erected to Bruno on the site where he wasburned for seeing more clearly than those in authority in his days, isthe simple inscription, "Raised to Giordano Bruno by the generationwhich he foresaw. "

We are all purblind, but some are blinder than others who use thevarious means available for sharpening their eyesight. As an onlookerit seems to me safe to say that the lenses recommended by both the"radicals" and their vivid opponents rather tend to increase thandiminish our natural astigmatism. 

Those who agree, on the whole, at least, with the _facts_ broughttogether in this essay and, on the whole, with the main _inferences_suggested either explicitly or implicitly, will properly begin towonder how our educational system and aims are to be so rearrangedthat coming generations may be better prepared to understand thecondition of human life and to avail themselves of its possibilitiesmore fully and guard against its dangers more skillfully than previousgenerations. There is now widespread discontent with our presenteducational methods and their elaborate futility; but it seems to methat we are rather rarely willing to face the fundamental difficulty, for it is obviously so very hard to overcome. _We do not dare to behonest enough to tell boys and girls and young men and women whatwould be most useful to them in an age of imperative socialreconstruction. _

We have seen that the ostensible aims of education are various, [33]and that among them is now included the avowed attempt to prepare theyoung to play their part later as voting citizens. If they are to dobetter than preceding generations they must be brought up differently. They would have to be given a different general attitude towardinstitutions and ideals; instead of having these represented to themas standardized and sacred they should be taught to view them asrepresenting half-solved problems. But how can we ever expect tocultivate the judgment of the young in matters of fundamental social, economic, and political readjustment when we consider the reallydominating forces in education? But even if these restraints wereweakened or removed, the task would remain a very delicate one. Evenwith teachers free and far better informed than they are, it would beno easy thing to cultivate in the young a justifiable admiration forthe achievements and traditional ideals of mankind and at the sametime develop the requisite knowledge of the prevailing abuses, culpable stupidity, common dishonesty, and empty political buncombe, which too often passes for statesmanship. 

But the problem has to be tackled, and it may be tackled directly orindirectly. The direct way would be to describe as realistically asmight be the actual conditions and methods, and their workings, goodand bad. If there were better books than are now available it would bepossible for teachers tactfully to show not only how government issupposed to run, but how it actually is run. There are plenty ofreports of investigating committees, Federal and state, which furnishauthentic information in regard to political corruption, graft, waste, and incompetency. These have not hitherto been supposed to haveanything to do with the _science_ of government, although they areobviously absolutely essential to an _understanding_ of it. Similarreflections suggest themselves in the matter of business, international relations, and race animosities. But so long as ourschools depend on appropriations made by politicians, and colleges anduniversities are largely supported by business men or by the state, and are under the control of those who are bent on preserving theexisting system from criticism, it is hard to see any hope of a kindof education which would effectively question the conventional notionsof government and business. They cannot be discussed with sufficienthonesty to make their consideration really medicinal. We laud thebrave and outspoken and those supposed to have the courage of theirconvictions--but only when these convictions are acceptable orindifferent to us. Otherwise, honesty and frankness become mereimpudence. [34]

No doubt politics and economics could be taught, and are being taught, better as time goes on. Neither of them are so utterly unreal andirrelevant to human proceedings as they formerly were. There is noreason why a teacher of political economy should not describe theactual workings of the profit system of industry with its restraintson production and its dependence on the engineer, and suggest thepossibility of gathering together capital from functionless absenteestockholders on the basis of the current rate of interest rather thanspeculative dividends. The actual conditions of the workers could bedescribed, their present precarious state, the inordinate and wastefulprevalence of hiring and firing; the policy of the unions, and theirdefensive and offensive tactics. Every youngster might be given someglimmering notion that neither "private property" nor "capital" is thereal issue (since few question their essentiality) but rather the newproblem of supplying other than the traditional motives for industrialenterprise--namely, the slave-like docility and hard compulsion of thegreat masses of workers, on the one hand, and speculative profits, onthe other, which now dominate in our present business system. For theexisting organization is not only becoming more and more patentlywasteful, heartless, and unjust, but is beginning, for variousreasons, to break down. In short, whatever the merits of our presentways of producing the material necessities and amenities of life, itlooks to many as if they could not succeed indefinitely, even as wellas they have in the past, without some fundamental revision. 

As for political life, a good deal would be accomplished if studentscould be habituated to distinguish successfully between the emptydeclamations of politicians and statements of facts, between vagueparty programs and concrete recommendations and proposals. They shouldearly learn that language is not primarily a vehicle of ideas andinformation, but an emotional outlet, corresponding to variouscooings, growlings, snarls, crowings, and brayings. Their attentioncould be invited to the rhetoric of the bitter-enders in the Senate orthe soothing utterances of Mr. Harding on accepting the nomination forPresident:

"With a Senate advising as the Constitution contemplates, I wouldhopefully approach the nations of Europe and of the earth, proposingthat understanding which makes us a willing participant in theconsecration of nations to a new relationship, to commit the moralforces of the world, America included, to peace and internationaljustice, still leaving America free, independent, self-reliant, butoffering friendship to all the world. If men call for more specificdetails, I remind them that moral committals are broad andall-inclusive, and we are contemplating peoples in the concord ofhumanity's advancement. "

After mastering the difference between language used to express factsand purposes and that which amounts to no more than a piousejaculation, a suave and deprecating gesture, or an inferentialaccusation directed against the opposing party, the youth should beinstructed in the theory and practice of party fidelity and theeffects of partisanship on the conduct of our governmental affairs. Infine, he should get some notion of the motives and methods of thosewho really run our government, whether he learned anything else ornot. 

These _direct_ attempts to produce a more intelligently critical andopen-minded generation are, however, likely to be far less feasiblethan the _indirect_ methods. Partly because they will arouse strenuousopposition from the self-appointed defenders of society as nowregulated, and partly because no immediate inspection of habits andinstitutions is so instructive as a study of their origin and progressand a comparison of them with other forms of social adjustment. I hopethat it has already become clear that we have great, and hitherto onlyvery superficially worked, resources in History, as it is now comingto be conceived. 

We are in the midst of the greatest intellectual revolution that hasever overtaken mankind. Our whole conception of mind is undergoing agreat change. We are beginning to understand its nature, and as wefind out more, intelligence may be raised to a recognized dignity andeffectiveness which it has never enjoyed before. An encouragingbeginning has been made in the case of the natural sciences, and asimilar success may await the studies which have to do with thecritical estimate of man's complicated nature, his fundamentalimpulses and resources, the needless and fatal repressions which thesehave suffered through the ignorance of the past, and the discovery ofuntried ways of enriching our existence and improving our relationswith our fellow men. 

There[35] is a well-known passage in Goethe's "Faust" where he likensHistory to the Book with Seven Seals described in Revelation, which noone in heaven, or on the earth or under the earth, was able to openand read therein. All sorts of guesses have been hazarded as to itscontents by Augustine, Orosius, Otto of Freising, Bossuet, Bolingbroke, Voltaire, Herder, Hegel, and many others, but none ofthem were able to break the seals, and all of them were gravely misledby their fragmentary knowledge of the book's contents. For we now seethat the seven seals were seven great ignorances. No one knew much (1)of man's physical nature, or (2) the workings of his thoughts anddesires, or (3) of the world in which he lives, or (4) of how he hascome about as a race, or (5) of how he develops as an individual froma tiny egg, or (6) how deeply and permanently he is affected by theoften forgotten impressions of infancy and childhood, or (7) how hisancestors lived for hundreds of thousands of years in the darkignorance of savagery. 

The seals are all off now. The book at last lies open before those whoare capable of reading it, and few they be as yet; for most of usstill cling to the guesses made in regard to its contents beforeanyone knew what was in it. We have become attached to the familiarold stories which now prove to be fictions, and we find it hard toreconcile ourselves to the many hard sayings which the book proves tocontain--its constant stress on the stupidity of "good" people; itsscorn for the respectable and normal, which it often reduces to littlemore than sanctimonious routine and indolence and pious resentment atbeing disturbed in one's complacent assurances. Indeed, much of itsteaching appears downright immoral according to existing standards. 

One awful thing that the Book of the Past makes plain is that with ouranimal heritage we are singularly oblivious to the large concerns oflife. We are keenly sensitive to little discomforts, minorirritations, wounded vanity, and various danger signals; but ourcomprehension is inherently vague and listless when it comes tograsping intricate situations and establishing anything like a fairperspective in life's problems and possibilities. Our imagination isrestrained by our own timidity, constantly reinforced by the warningsof our fellows, who are always urging us to be safe and sane, by whichthey mean convenient for them, predictable in our conduct andgraciously amenable to the prevailing standards. 

But it is obvious that it is increasingly dangerous to yield to thisinveterate tendency, however comfortable and respectable it may seemfor the moment. 

History, as H. G. Wells has so finely expressed it, is coming more andmore to be "a race between education and catastrophe. Our internalpolicies and our economic and social ideas are profoundly vitiated atpresent by wrong and fantastic ideas of the origin and historicalrelationship of social classes. A sense of history as the commonadventure of all mankind is as necessary for peace within as it is forpeace between the nations". There can be no secure peace now but acommon peace of the whole world; no prosperity but a generalprosperity, and this for the simple reason that we are all now broughtso near together and are so pathetically and intricatelyinterdependent, that the old notions of noble Isolation and nationalsovereignty are magnificently criminal. 

In the bottom of their hearts, or the depths of their unconscious, donot the conservatively minded realize that their whole attitude towardthe world and its betterment is based on an assumption that finds noleast support in the Great Book of the Past? Does it not make plainthat the "conservative", so far as he is consistent and lives up tohis professions, is fatally in the wrong? The so-called "radical" isalso almost always wrong, for no one can foresee the future. But heworks on a right assumption--namely, that the future has so far alwaysproved different from the past and that it will continue to do so. Some of us, indeed, see that the future is tending to become more andmore rapidly and widely different from the past. The conservativehimself furnishes the only illustration of his theory, and even thatis highly inconclusive. His general frame of mind appears to remainconstant, but he finds himself defending and rejecting very differentthings. The great issue may, according to the period, be a primevaltaboo, the utterances of the Delphic oracle, the Athanasian creed, theInquisition, the geocentric theory, monarchy by the grace of God, witchcraft, slavery, war, capitalism, private property, or nobleisolation. All of these tend to appear to the conservative under theaspect of eternity, but all of these things have come, many of themhave gone, and the remainder would seem to be subject to undreamed-ofmodifications as time goes on. This is the teaching of the nowunsealed book. 

NOTES. 

[27] Mr. James Branch Cabell has in his _Beyond Life_ defended man'sromantic longings and inexorable craving to live part of the time atleast in a world far more sweetly molded to his fancy than that ofnatural science and political economy. There is no reason why manshould live by bread alone. There is a time, however, for naturalscience and political economy, for they should establish theconditions in which we may rejoice in our vital lies, which will thendo no harm and bring much joy. 

[28] The relation of our kinesthesia or muscular sense to fanaticismon the one hand and freedom of mind on the other is a matter nowbeginning to be studied with the promise of highly important results. 

[29] _Drift and Mastery_, pp. 196-197. 

[30] G. Stanley Hall, "The Message of the Zeitgeist", in _ScientificMonthly_, August, 1921--a very wonderful and eloquent appeal by one ofour oldest and boldest truth seekers. 

[31] _Delineator_, August, 1921, p. II. 

[32] Adopting Mr. Veblen's definition of a vested interest whichcaused some scandal in conservative circles when it was firstreported. Doubtless the seeming offensiveness of the latter part ofthe definition obscured its reassuring beginning. 

[33] See Section 2 above. 

[34] The wise Goethe has said, _"Zieret Stärke den Mann und freies, muthiges Wesen, O, so ziemet ihm fast tiefes Geheimniss noch mehr"_, --Römische Elegien, xx. 

[35] The closing reflections are borrowed from _The Leaflet_, issuedby the students of the New School for Social Research, established inNew York in 1919, with a view of encouraging adults to continue theirstudies in the general spirit and mood which permeate this essay. 

APPENDIX

SOME SUGGESTIONS IN REGARD TO READING

It may happen that among the readers of this essay there will be somewho will ask how they can most readily get a clearer idea of thevarious newer ways of looking at mankind and the problems of the day. The following list of titles is furnished with a view of doingsomething to meet this demand. It is not a bibliography in the usualsense of the term. It is confined to rather short and readilyunderstandable presentations appropriate to the overcrowded scheduleupon which most of us have to operate. All the writers mentionedbelong, however, to that rather small class whose opinions are worthconsidering, even if one reserves the imprescriptible right not toagree with all they say. There may well be better references thanthose with which I happen to be acquainted, and others quite asuseful; but I can hardly imagine anyone, whatever his degree ofinformation, unless he happens to be a specialist in the particularfield, failing to gain something of value from any one of the volumesmentioned. 

For the astounding revelations in regard to the fundamental nature ofmatter and the ways in which the modern chemist plays with it, seeJohn Mills, _Within the Atom_ (D. Van Nostrand Company), and Slosson, _Creative Chemistry_ (The Century Company). 

A general account of the evolutionary process will be found inCrampton, _The Doctrine of Evolution_ (Columbia University Press), chaps, i-v. For our development as an individual from the egg seeConklin, _Heredity and Environment_ (Princeton University Press). 

The general scope of modern anthropology and the influence of thisstudy on our notions of mankind as we now find it can be gathered fromGoldenweiser, _Early Civilization, Introduction to Anthropology_(Knopf). This should be supplemented by the remarkable volume ofessays by Franz Boas, _The Mind of Primitive Man_ (Macmillan). 

Of the more recent and easily available books relating to thereconstruction of philosophy and the newer conceptions in regard tomind and intelligence the following may be mentioned: Dewey, _Reconstruction in Philosophy_ and _Human Nature and Conduct_ (Holt);Woodworth, _Dynamic Psychology_ (Columbia University Press); _Trotter, Instincts of the Herd in Peace and War_ (Macmillan)--especially thefirst two sections, pp. 1-65; Bernard Hart, _The Psychology ofInsanity_ (Putnam), an admirable little introduction to the importanceof abnormal mental conditions in understanding our usual thoughts andemotions; McDougall, _Social Psychology_ (J. W. Luce); Everett D. Martin, _The Behavior of Crowds_ (Harpers); Edman, _Human Traits_(Houghton-Mifflin). For the so-called behavioristic interpretation ofmankind, see Watson, _Psychology from the Standpoint of a Behaviorist_(Lippincott). Haldane, _Mechanism, Life, and Personality_ (Dutton), isa short discussion of some of the most fundamental elements in ourmodern conception of life itself. 

When it comes to gaining an idea of "Freudianism" and all theoverwhelming discoveries, theories, and suggestions due to those whohave busied themselves with the lasting effects of infantile andchildish experiences, of hidden desires--sexual and otherwise, of "theUnconscious" and psychoanalysis, while there are many books, great andsmall, there would be no unanimity of opinion among those somewhatfamiliar with the subjects as to what should be recommended. It wouldbe well if everyone could read in Havelock Ellis, _The Philosophy ofConflict_ (Houghton-Mifflin), the essay (XVIII) on Freud and hisinfluence. Wilfred Lay, _Man's Unconscious Conflict_ (Dodd, Mead), isa popular exposition of psychoanalysis, and Tansley, _The NewPsychology_ (Dodd, Mead), likewise. Harvey O'Higgins, _The SecretSprings_ (Harpers), reports, in a pleasing manner, some of the actualmedical experiences of Dr. Edward Reede of Washington. But much ofimportance remains unsaid in all these little books for which onewould have to turn to Freud himself, his present and former disciples, his enemies, and the special contributions of investigators andpractitioners in this new and essential field of psychologicalresearch and therapy. 

Turning to the existing industrial system, its nature, defects, andrecommendations for its reform, I may say that I think that relativelylittle is to be derived from the common run of economic textbooks. Thefollowing compendious volumes give an analysis of the situation and aconsideration of the proposed remedies for existing evils andmaladjustments: Veblen, _The Vested Interests and the Common Man_, also his _The Engineers and the Price System_ (Huebsch); J. A. Hobson, _Democracy after the War_ (Macmillan) and his more recent _Problems ofa New World_ (Macmillan); Tawney, _The Acquisitive Society_ (Harcourt, Brace); Bertrand Russell, _Why Men Fight_ (Century) and his _ProposedRoads to Freedom_ (Holt), in which he describes clearly the historyand aims of the various radical leaders and parties of recent times. 

As for newer views and criticism of the modern state and politicallife in general, in addition to Mr. Hobson's books mentioned above, the following are of importance: Graham Wallas, _The Great Society_(Macmillan); Harold Laski, _Authority in the Modern State_ and_Problems of Sovereignty_ (Yale University Press); Walter Lippmann, _Preface to Politics_ and _Drift and Mastery_ (Holt). 

J. Russell Smith, _The World's Food Resources_ (Holt), is a larger andmore detailed discussion than most of those recommended above, butcontains a number of general facts and comment of first-rateimportance. 

One who desires a highly thoughtful and scholarly review of the trendof religious thought in recent times should read McGiffert, _The Riseof Modern Religious Ideas_ (Macmillan).