individual needs the social order to assist him, and must therefore in all prudence try to further the so¬ cial ends as a means to the furthering of his own? Does such a system say anything whatever about altruism as such? Does it not make enlightened egoism the one rule of life? And if this is what is meant, why not say so plainly? If the intent of the ALTRUISM AND EGOISM 69 act makes it altruistic or the reverse, then a man who helps his friend, or his neighbor, or society, and who is honest, and kind, and public-spirited solely be¬ cause he wants to get protection and help in return, is no altruist, but is as egoistic as a Judas or as a Thomassen. He is only clearer-headed than they were. On the other hand, if by any possibility any one makes the good of others his sole end, and with this as end takes care of his own health, or devel¬ ops his mental powers, or amasses wealth, but all merely for the sake of being able to benefit others, then is such a man not egoistic, even while working for himself, but altruistic throughout. For such a man by hypothesis aims, not at his own personal good, but solely at the good of others.
All this is consequent upon the general doctrine that the distinction between altruism and egoism, as moral qualities, must depend on no external acci¬ dent, but on the personal deed of the man himself. For, to make special mention of what many forget, the means that you take to get any end are for you merely physical accidents. If things were other¬ wise, you would with the same intent do other things to get what you seek. Not what you have to do in getting your ends, but what you actually aimed at, is morally significant. Hence the altruism of conse¬ quences as such is morally insignificant, and the al¬ truism of intent is alone morally significant. But yet this obvious and seemingly very commonplace distinction is, by the views that we are combating, wholly lost sight of in its further application to hu¬ man life. We may hear in modern controversy, 70 THE RELIGIOUS ASPECT OF PHILOSOPHY for instance, of a “ conflict between altruism and egoism,” such as the one that Mr. Spencer discusses in his “ Data of Ethics,” and we may draw near to learn how the conflict goes. We shall possibly find the question put thus: If a man in trying to be altruistic were so far to forget himself as to injure his health, or to become so weak as to have no healthy children; if he were to be careless of his property, to let his mind go untrained, or to narrow his own life too much, why then his own objects would be defeated, he would be unable to help any¬ body, he might do harm, and he could be no genuine altruist. Therefore altruism must not oppose ego¬ ism too much, else altruism will defeat itself. On the other hand, we hear, if egoism is extravagant, it will in its turn fail to get its own great end, self-sat¬ isfaction. For it is useful to one to have his fellow- members in the social organism well-contented, effi¬ cient, and moral. One must try to make them so, that he himself may enjoy the fruits of their happi¬ ness. He pays more taxes, and also higher prices for what he buys, if the community as a whole is not contented and happy, as well as healthy and moral. Enlightened selfishness therefore means for him public spirit. His neighbor’s diseases are apt to infect his own family; hence, if enlightened, he will do what he conveniently can to keep his neigh¬ bor well. His neighbor’s peace of mind tends to make his own mind peaceful, hence he will help his neighbor out of trouble. Otherwise he would have to live in anxiety, loneliness, weakness, and danger. His life would be hard, and probably his death would ALTRUISM AND EGOISM 71 be early. So egoism must not be too extravagant. Altruism is “ equally imperative.” Thus, perhaps, we should hear the so-called “ conflict ” discussed. If such views were urged, what should we say about them? We should have to say that they touch in no wise at all the true moral distinction and warfare between selfishness and altruism. They show only that, whatever the opposition in aim, the two princi¬ ples have after all, in this world of limitation, to use very much the same means. Surely it is no new thing to learn that in warfare both parties have to burn the same quality of gunpowder, and that even the cats when they fight all have to scratch with claws that are very much alike. Do such re¬ marks explain or tend to diminish or to end the con¬ flicts in question?
How insignificant is this way of studying the con¬ flict of egoism and altruism, we shall see if we take yet other illustrations. In the sense of the fore¬ going comparison of egoism and altruism, even a pirate, in his treatment of merchant vessels, would have to be moderately altruistic; namely, he had better not try to do harm to a merchant vessel that is too well armed for his force to overcome it. On the contrary, his egoism will in this case counsel him unselfishly to let it prosper in its own way. Nay, he may even try to speed it on its course, if it ap¬ pears disposed to change roles and to attack him. He may say that in just this case he thinks that this merchantman ought to have peace, and to be pre¬ served from injury. The other alternative would just here increase his own bill for repairs, or might 72 THE RELIGIOUS ASPECT OF PHILOSOPHY \ make his own existence less happy, or might even bring him to the gallows. The happiness of the crew of the merchantman is therefore just now an object of concern for him, as perhaps furthering his own. So he may be willing to compromise the dif¬ ficulty, even if it should cost him a large sum to per¬ suade the belligerent captain of the armed merchant¬ man to let him alone. Thus he might even add quite a fortune to what the merchantman’s captain and crew already have of good things, and this would surely be very marked altruism. Thus ego¬ ism and altruism may oppose each other, and thus, by careful calculation, their opposing claims may be balanced! Or yet again, suppose that a robber meets me in the highway, and egoistically demands my purse. If now I should manage to disarm him, to present a pistol to his head, and to ask him to accompany me to the nearest town, evidently the claims of altruism would for that man have a consid¬ erably stronger emphasis than they had the moment before. He would now be willing not merely to live and let live in peace for the present; he would not merely be delighted to recognize my rights of property and to leave me free to enjoy them; but he would undoubtedly be glad to increase my happiness by giving me anything of value that he might have about him, or any information of value to me that I might desire, if by such means he could get me to let him go free. A great altruist would my robber now be, however great his egoism just before.
Now do such discussions of the claims of egoism and altruism mean anything for the moralist? But ALTRUISM AND EGOISM 73 if somebody tells us of the altruism that leads a man to advocate good drainage lest he himself may have a fever, of the altruism that pays one’s debts to the sole end that one may get further credit, of the sub¬ lime unselfishness that makes a man civil even to his rivals, because civility in these days is a social requirement, — what have all these wondrous virtues to do in constituting the moral value of altruism as a disposition, more than have the virtues just illus¬ trated? W e have two dispositions in us: one order¬ ing us to respect our neighbor as such, to labor in his behalf because he exists and needs help; the other demanding that we regard him as a mere in¬ strument for our personal pleasure. Only the dis¬ positions as such concern the moralist. Surely in fundamental ethics we are discussing what we ought to aim at, not how we can get our aims, so long at least as we confine ourselves to the general princi¬ ples. Applied morality may have much to say of means. But of principles, this balancing of means can tell us nothing. The means are the physical ac¬ cidents, nothing more. What we want to know is whether egoism as an aim is morally the worthiest aim, or whether altruism is a morally better aim.
And we ask not yet how, if one’s aim is egoistic, he can most successfully be selfish, but only whether one’s aim ought to be selfish, and in how far. To tell us that if we are sensible and selfish we shall avoid having too much trouble with our fellows, is not to tell us that our aims ought to be altruistic, but only that sensible selfish men. are not fools. To tell us that if we are wise and altruistic we shall avoid wasting 74 THE RELIGIOUS ASPECT OF PHILOSOPHY our own powers profitlessly, and shall try to preserve our own health, and to cultivate our own wits in use¬ ful ways, all this is to tell us that unselfish wise men are not fanatics. It may be useful to say this, but it is not useful to the discussion of fundamental moral doctrines. We want to know, for the first, not how successfully to be altruistic, or selfish, but why the effort to be altruistic or to be selfish is mor¬ ally right or wrong.
IV.
IV.
If now such comparisons of the claims of altru¬ ism and egoism throw no light on the fundamental moral questions, what shall we say of the chance that the “ conflict ” may be explained or diminished by any proof that the evolution of our race will tend in time to diminish, or even to extinguish, the opposi¬ tion? If some one shows us that by and by the most selfish being in the social order will find it his own bliss to give as much bliss as he can to everybody else, so that men shall all be even as the people at a successful party, getting pleasure as freely as they give it, and giving it because they get it: and if such predictions seem to anybody to help us to know what duty is, then what can we say in reply, save to wonder at the insight that sees the connection be¬ tween all these facts and our present duty? If a society ever does grow up in which there are no moral conflicts, nothing but a tedious cooing of bliss from everybody, then in that society there will be no moral questions asked. But none the less we ask such. If the people of that day no longer dis- ALTRUISM AND EGOISM 75 tinguish egoism from altruism, they may all be blessed: but what is that to us? We ask, What ought we to do? We learn in answer that the peo¬ ple of the future will feel no need to ask that ques¬ tion. We desire that duty be defined. We learn in answer that if men ever get perfect, the sense of obligation will vanish, so that nobody will question: What is duty? at all. This may be magnificent, but it is not ethics.
For what do we really learn by hearing about the society of the future? Only that, in the time com¬ ing, there will be such and such freedom from moral problems? Do we then also learn that we ought to do our best to bring about that reign of peace f Not at all, for we are sure that we shall never live to see that day; and we cannot know why we should work for it so long as we are still in doubt about the value of selfishness. Do we learn that we ought to conform as nearly as is possible to the rules that will govern men in that ideal state? But how then do we learn that? Is it because the coming form of conduct will be the “ highest form of adjustment of acts to endsf as the modem apostles of evolution teach that it will be? Nay, though we do accept most confidently all that these apostles teach about the future, since surely they must know about it, we still miss anything of moral significance in these physical facts. For why is this coming state the highest? Does any one say: Because it will come at the end of the physical process of evolution? Nay then, if every more advanced state is to be more acceptable, by such reasoning the sprouting potato 76 THE RELIGIOUS ASPECT OF PHILOSOPHY or the incubating egg would always be more accept¬ able than the fresh potato or the fresh egg. Highest, as last, or as most complex, or even as most perma¬ nent, cannot be in meaning identical with the mor¬ ally highest that we want defined for us. We ought to work for the realization of that far-off state, if at all, then, because we see it to be, not merely the last in point of time, but also actually the best, and that for some other reason than this physical one. But once more then, why is it best? And why ought we to try to realize it? Because in that state, every individual will be happiest? But then we want to know what we now are to do, and we see that this future happiness will be at present for us unattain¬ able. If we were in that state we should be happy. But it is not at all plain that, by trying to approach it, we shall now be making ourselves any happier. And why should we do anything unselfish?
Evolution then, as a mere prospect, throws no light on the real and fundamental meaning of duty. If we know what we are to try to do, then we can judge whether we ought to help or to hinder evolu¬ tion as a means to that end. But unless we know our duty otherwise, there is nothing in the mere physical fact of evolution that indicates what is mor- ally higher or lower, better or worse. Why should I work for future ages, if it is not already quite plain, apart from any knowledge of evolution, that I ought to do what I can just now for my brother here?
After all, however, it is another aspect of evolu¬ tion upon which nowadays most stress is laid in ALTRUISM AND EGOISM 77 ethics. It is said that, the future aside, evolution has made us what we now are, and, in particular, has formed our society, and us for society. Hence not only is our welfare in fact best served by a wise al¬ truism, but this fact is plain to us in our very organ¬ ization and instincts. Therefore while throughout our aim is our happiness, our nature has been so or¬ ganized by generations of social evolution as to make pretty certain that our happiness is already depen¬ dent on our good character as social beings. There¬ fore the doctrine of evolution shows that selfishness must itself become even in our day altruistic if it would be successful.
Is this aspect of evolution any more ethical than the other? That is, does it show us, not the means, but the moral End? We must deny that it does. To be sure, if we never actually felt any conflict between egoism and altruism as dispositions, then indeed for us just that ethical problem would not exist. But we do feel a conflict. And since for us our selfish¬ ness is not altruistic in aim, it is quite useless to try to make the warring impulses one by declaring that a perfectly enlightened selfishness, even in our own society, would be altruistic, not indeed in aim, but in consequences. For, in the first place, that would actually be a false statement for our present social condition; since it is still quite possible for a clever selfish man to live very comfortably, by somehow legally wronging and oppressing others. And, in the second place, if the statement were true, it would be ethically worthless. For if good treatment of others is uniformly the behavior that is, selfishly viewed, the 78 THE RELIGIOUS ASPECT OF PHILOSOPHY most advantageous, the man who acts upon that prin¬ ciple is still selfish, not altruistic at all, and he has not solved for himself the conflict between the two principles, save by utterly disregarding the principle of altruism. If altruism were the only goodness, then altruism of aim would be goodness still, what¬ ever the selfish consequences. If altruism needs to be limited in any way by selfishness, then the limit¬ ation must still be a matter of aim, not of accidental result. Altruism as a means to selfish ends would however be no aim at all, but only an accidental tool. If circumstances varied, it would be cast aside, while the selfish aim itself remained constant.
J. S. Mill, following others, tried to distinguish the motive from the intent of an act. According to this distinction, a selfish act would be altruistic by intent, if there was in it the deliberate purpose to make somebody happy, however selfish the motive of the act. So it would be altruism to be deliberately and selfishly just. But this distinction, however useful for some purposes, is for our purpose worthless. The question is: What in the act belongs to the man, and what is this part of the act worth? Now whatever belongs not to the actor, but to the condi¬ tions under which he works, is morally insignifi¬ cant. For it is what we have called the physical accident of his surroundings. But intent, apart from motive, seems to be just such a physical acci¬ dent; for intent, apart from motive, must relate, not to the real aim as such, but only to the means. A man aims to be selfish. If now he lives where his i selfishness requires him to feed and clothe his enemy, ALTRUISM AND EGOISM 79 he will, if enlightened, do so, and deliberately too. And he will show in the act just as much and just as little charity as he would have shown had he lived where selfishness was best served by killing his enemy, and had he killed him. The intent, apart from the motive of the man, can have reference only to the means by which he seeks to get his ultimate aim. And such intent relates to accidental matters. If by a physical accident the selfish man grows up where you must speak politely to your antagonist, and treat him with great show of respect, then the selfish man will deliberately, and with conscious in¬ tent, do so; and if he grows up where you challenge your antagonist to a duel, he will possibly try that way of getting rid of an enemy; and if he lives among the cannibals, the selfish man, no more or less selfish than in the other cases, only by training more brutal in tastes, will torture and eat his antag¬ onist. And if the doctrine of evolution shows that one of these forms of “ adaptation ” is more complete than another, or proves to us that we personally shall be most prudent in adopting one only of the possible courses, all this can in no wise tell us what aim in conduct is morally best, but only what means most exhaustively accomplish the selfish purposes of a civilized man. So intent is morally valuable only in connection with motive.
It is hardly worth while to dwell longer on the curious devices by which certain defenders of the application of the hypothesis of evolution to ques¬ tions of fundamental ethics have tried to establish that the truths of evolution teach us that we ought 80 THE RELIGIOUS ASPECT OF PHILOSOPHY \ to do right. The whole undertaking resembles that of a man who should try to show us that the truth of the law of gravitation clearly indicates that we all ought to sit down. What is evident or doubtful apart from the law of evolution, cannot, in this field, be proved or disproved by the law. Shall we say: “ Do good to thy neighbor to-day, because evolution tends to bring into existence a race of future beings who will do good? ” To say this is to say something utterly irrelevant. What do we care about remote posterity, unless we already care about our neigh¬ bors as they are? Or shall we say: “ Do good to thy neighbor because evolution has made thee a social being, whose instincts lead thee to desire thy neighbor’s good? ” To say this is to say what is only very imperfectly true. One’s instincts often lead him to take much selfish delight in thwarting his neighbor. If it were true universally and strictly, it would not show us why to do right, nor yet what is right. For it is not obviously a funda¬ mental ethical doctrine that we ought to follow an instinct as such. And if we follow an instinct be¬ cause we find it pleasing, our aim is still not to do any right save what pleases us personally. And the whole wisdom of the doctrine of evolution would be reduced to the assurance that we ought to do as we like, with due regard to prudence. Shall we then say: “Do good, because the social order that has evolved is too strong for thee, and will hurt thee unless thou submittest to it?” Still one has the selfish motive insisted upon, and morality is still only prudence. And the doctrine will still have to ALTRUISM AND EGOISM 81 admit that whenever one can outwit society pru¬ dently, and can gain for himself his selfish aims by anti-social but for him in this case safe means, then and there the selfish man may do this anti-social thing if he likes, the doctrine, with all its good mo¬ tives, being unable to show why not. For it will not do to resort to some such subterfuge as this, and to say: “ A man’s advantage depends upon the pros¬ perity of the whole. But anti-social acts ultimately tend to weaken society. Hence they ultimately tend to diminish the prosperity of the whole, and there¬ fore tend to harm the selfish individual.” All this is irrelevant, in case the social consequences cannot return upon the selfish individual’s head during his lifetime. The wasteful owners of great forests in our western mountains, the great and oppressive capitalists that crush rivals and outwit the public, the successful speculators, the national leaders whose possession of the biggest battalions enables them to demand of weaker neighbors unjust sacrifices, all these may listen in scorn to talk about their prosper¬ ity as dependent upon that of society, their enemies and victims included. “We eat the fruit,” they can say. “ To be sure we consume it by eating, and we like to waste it so long as we ourselves profit by the waste, and we could neither eat it nor waste it if there were no fruit; but there is enough to last us and our children for our lifetimes. After us the social famine, but for others, not for us.” The now famous reply ascribed to one of our great railroad kings when, some time since, he was asked about the “ accommodation of the public ” by a certain train,