[CHAPTER II]
SCEPTICAL VIEW.
But when we cast a retrospect over the attempts made, and made in vain, for more than two thousand years, to find a sure basis for Ethics, ought we not perhaps to think that after all there is no natural morality, independent of human institution? Shall we not conclude that all moral systems are nothing but artificial products, means invented for the better restraint of the selfish and wicked race of men; and further, that, as they have no internal credentials and no natural basis, they would fail in their purpose, if without the support of positive religion? The legal code and the police are not sufficient in all cases; there are offences, the discovery of which is too difficult; some, indeed, where punishment is a precarious matter; where, in short, we are left without public protection. Moreover, the civil law can at most enforce justice, not loving-kindness and beneficence; because, of course, these are qualities as regards which every one would like to play the passive, and no one the active, part. All this has given rise to the hypothesis that morality rests solely on religion, and that both have the same aim—that of being complementary to the necessary inadequacy of state machinery and legislation. Consequently, there cannot be (it is said) a natural morality, i.e., one based simply on the nature of things, or of man, and the fruitless search of philosophers for its foundation is explained. This view is not without plausibility; and we find it as far back as the Pyrrhonians:
οὔτε ἀγάθον ἐστί ϕύσει, oὔτε κακόν,
ἀλλὰ πρὸς ἀνθροπών ταὒτα νό κέκριται,
κατὰ τὸν Tίρωνα[1]
—Sext. Emp. adv. Math., XI., 140.
Also in modern times distinguished thinkers have given their adherence to it. A careful examination therefore it deserves; although the easier course would be to shelve it by giving an inquisitorial glance at the consciences of those in whom such a theory could arise.
We should fall into a great, a very childish blunder, if we believed all the just and legal actions of mankind to have a moral origin. This is far from being the case. As a rule, between the justice, which men practise, and genuine singleness of heart, there exists a relation analogous to that between polite expressions, and the true love of one's neighbour, which, unlike the former, does not ostensibly overcome Egoism, but really does so. That honesty of sentiment, everywhere so carefully exhibited, which requires to be regarded as above all suspicion; that deep indignation, which is stirred by the smallest sign of a doubt in this direction, and is ready to break out into furions anger;—to what are we to attribute these symptoms? None but the inexperienced and simple will take them for pure coin, for the working of a fine moral feeling, or conscience. In point of fact, the general correctness of conduct which is adopted in human intercourse, and insisted on as a rule no less immovable than the hills, depends principally on two external necessities; first, on legal ordinance, by virtue of which the rights of every man are protected by public authority; and secondly, on the recognised need of possessing civil honour, in other words, a good name, in order to advance in the world. This is why the steps taken by the individual are closely watched by public opinion, which is so inexorably severe that it never forgives even a single false move or slip, but remembers it against the guilty person as an indelible blot, all his life long. As far as this goes, public opinion is wise enough; for, starting from the fundamental principle: Operari sequitur esse (what one does is determined by what one is), it shows its conviction that the character is unchangeable, and that therefore what a man has once done, he will assuredly do again, if only the circumstances be precisely similar. Such are the two custodians that keep guard on the correct conduct of people, without which, to speak frankly, we should be in a sad case, especially with reference to property, this central point in human life, around which the chief part of its energy and activity revolves. For the purely ethical motives to integrity, assuming that they exist, cannot as a rule be applied, except very indirectly, to the question of ownership as guaranteed by the state. These motives, in fact, have a direct and essential bearing only on natural right; with positive right their connection is merely indirect, in so far as the latter is based on the former. Natural right, however, attaches to no other property than that which has been gained by one's own exertion; because, when this is seized, the owner is at the same time robbed of all the efforts he expended in acquiring it. The theory of preoccupancy I reject absolutely, but cannot here set forth its refutation.[2] Now of course all estate based on positive right ought ultimately and in the last instance (it matters not how many intermediate links are involved) to rest on the natural right of possession. But what a distance there is, in most cases, between the title-deeds, that belong to our civil life, and this natural right—their original source! Indeed their connection with the latter is generally either very difficult, or else impossible, to prove. What we hold is ours by inheritance, by marriage, by success in the lottery; or if in no way of this kind, still it is not gained by our own work, with the sweat of the brow, but rather by shrewdness and bright ideas (e.g., in the field of speculation), yes, and sometimes even by our very stupidity, which, through a conjunction of circumstances, is crowned and glorified by the Deus eventus. It is only in a very small minority of cases that property is the fruit of real labour and toil; and even then the work is usually mental, like that of lawyers, doctors, civilians, teachers, etc.; and this in the eyes of the rude appears to cost but little effort.
Now, when wealth is acquired in any such fashion, there is need of considerable education before the ethical right can be recognised and respected out of a purely moral impulse. Hence it comes about that not a few secretly regard the possessions of others as held merely by virtue of positive right. So, if they find means to wrest from another man his goods, by using, or perhaps by evading, the laws, they feel no scruples; for in their opinion he would lose what he holds, in the same way in which he had previously obtained it, and they consequently regard their own claims as equal to his. From their point of view, the right of the stronger in civil society is superseded by the right of the cleverer.
Incidentally we may notice that the rich man often shows an inflexible correctness of conduct. Why? Because with his whole heart he is attached to, and rigidly maintains, a rule, on the observance of which his entire wealth, and all its attendant advantages, depend. For this reason his profession of the principle: Suum cuique (to each his own), is thoroughly in earnest, and shows an unswerving consistency. No doubt there is an objective loyalty to sincerity and good faith, which avails to keep them sacred; but such loyalty is based simply on the fact that sincerity and good faith are the foundation of all free intercourse among men; of good order; and of secure ownership. Consequently they very often benefit ourselves, and with this end in view they must be preserved even at some cost: just as a good piece of land is worth a certain outlay. But integrity thus derived is, as a rule, only to be met with among wealthy people, or at least those who are engaged in a lucrative business. It is an especial characteristic of tradesmen; because they have the strongest conviction that for all the operations of commerce the one thing indispensable is mutual trust and credit; and this is why mercantile honour stands quite by itself. On the other hand, the poor man, who cannot make both ends meet, and who, by reason of the unequal division of property, sees himself condemned to want and hard work, while others before his eyes are lapped in luxury and idleness, will not easily perceive that the raison d'être of this inequality is a corresponding inequality of service and honest industry. And if he does not recognise this, how is he to be governed by the purely ethical motive to uprightness, which should keep him from stretching out his hand to grasp the superfluity of another? Generally, it is the order of government as established by law that restrains him. But should ever the rare occasion present itself when he discovers that he is beyond the reach of the police, and that he could by a single act throw off the galling burden of penury, which is aggravated by the sight of others' opulence; if he feels this, and realises that he could thus enter into the possession and enjoyment of all that he has so often coveted: what is there then to stay his hand? Religions dogmas? It is seldom that faith is so firm. A purely moral incentive to be just and upright? Perhaps in a few isolated cases. But in by far the greater number there is in reality nothing but the anxiety a man feels to keep his good name, his civil honour—a thing that touches closely even those in humble circumstances. He knows the imminent danger incurred of having to pay for dishonest conduct by being expelled from the great Masonic Lodge of honourable people who live correct lives. He knows that property all over the world is in their hands, and duly apportioned among themselves, and that they wield the power of making him an outcast for life from good society, in case he commit a single disgraceful action. He knows that whoever takes one false step in this direction is marked as a person that no one trusts, whose company every one shuns, and from whom all advancement is cut off; to whom, as being "a fellow that has stolen," the proverb is applied: "He who steals once is a thief all his life."
These, then, are the guards that watch over correct behaviour between man and man, and he who has lived, and kept his eyes open, will admit that the vast majority of honourable actions in human intercourse must be attributed to them; nay, he will go further, and say that there are not wanting people who hope to elude even their vigilance, and who regard justice and honesty merely as an external badge, as a flag, under the protection of which they can carry out their own freebooting propensities with better success. We need not therefore break out into holy wrath, and buckle on our armour, if a moralist is found to suggest that perhaps all integrity and uprightness may be at bottom only conventional. This is what Holbach, Helvetius, d'Alembert, and others of their time did; and, following out the theory, they endeavoured with great acumen to trace back all moral conduct to egoistic motives, however remote and indirect. That their position is literally true of most just actions, as having an ultimate foundation centred in the Self, I have shown above. That it is also true to a large extent of what is done in kindness and humanity, there can be no doubt; acts of this sort often arise from love of ostentation, still oftener from belief in a retribution to come, which may be dealt out in the second or even the third power;[3] or they can be explained by other egoistic motives. Nevertheless, it is equally certain that there occur actions of disinterested good-will and entirely voluntary justice. To prove the latter statement, I appeal only to the facts of experience, not to those of consciousness. There are isolated, yet indisputable cases on record, where not only the danger of legal prosecution, but also all chance of discovery, and even of suspicion has been excluded, and where, notwithstanding, the poor man has rendered to the rich his own. For example, things lost, and found, have been given back without any thought or hope of reward; a deposit made by a third person has been restored after his death to the rightful owner; a poor man, secretly intrusted with a treasure by a fugitive, has faithfully kept, and then returned, it. Instances of this sort can be found, beyond all doubt; only the surprise, the emotion, and the high respect awakened, when we hear of them, testify to the fact that they are unexpected and very exceptional. There are in truth really honest people: like four-leaved clover, their existence is not a fiction. But Hamlet uses no hyperbole when he says: "To be honest, as this world goes, is to be one man pick'd out of ten thousand." If it be objected that, after all, religious dogmas, involving rewards and penalties in another world, are at the root of conduct as above described; cases could probably be adduced where the actors possessed no religions faith whatever. And this is a thing by no means so infrequent as is generally maintained.