(7) There is another proof that the moral incentive disclosed by me is the true one. I mean the fact that animals also are included under its protecting aegis. In the other European systems of Ethics no place is found for them,—strange and inexcusable as this may appear. It is asserted that beasts have no rights; the illusion is harboured that our conduct, so far as they are concerned, has no moral significance, or, as it is put in the language of these codes, that "there are no duties to be fulfilled towards animals." Such a view is one of revolting coarseness, a barbarism of the West, whose source is Judaism. In philosophy, however, it rests on the assumption, despite all evidence to the contrary, of the radical difference between man and beast,—a doctrine which, as is well known, was proclaimed with more trenchant emphasis by Descartes than by any one else: it was indeed the necessary consequence of his mistakes. When Leibnitz and Wolff, following out the Cartesian view, built up out of abstract ideas their Rational Psychology, and constructed a deathless anima rationalis (rational soul); then the natural claims of the animal kingdom visibly rose up against this exclusive privilege, this human patent of immortality, and Nature, as always in such circumstances, entered her silent protest. Our philosophers, owing to the qualms of their intellectual conscience, were soon forced to seek aid for their Rational Psychology from the empirical method; they accordingly tried to reveal the existence of a vast chasm, an immeasurable gulf between animals and men, in order to represent them, in the teeth of opposing testimony, as existences essentially different. These efforts did not escape the ridicule of Boileau; for we find him saying:
Les animaux ont-ils des universités?
Voit-on fleurir chez eux des quatre facultés?[6]
Such a supposition would end in animals being pronounced incapable of distinguishing themselves from the external world, and of having any self-consciousness, any ego! As answer to such absurd tenets, it would only be necessary to point to the boundless Egoism innate in every animal, even the smallest and humblest; this amply proves how perfectly they are conscious of their self, as opposed to the world, which lies outside it. If any one of the Cartesian persuasion, with views like these in his head, should find himself in the claws of a tiger, he would be taught in the most forcible manner what a sharp distinction such a beast draws between his ego and the non-ego. Corresponding to these philosophical fallacies we notice a peculiar sophism in the speech of many peoples, especially the Germans. For the commonest matters connected with the processes of life,—for food, drink, conception, the bringing forth of young; for death, and the dead body; such languages have special words applicable only to animals, not to men. In this way the necessity of using the same terms for both is avoided, and the perfect identity of the thing concealed under verbal differences. Now, since the ancient tongues show no trace of such a dual mode of expression, but frankly denote the same things by the same words; it follows that this miserable artifice is beyond all doubt the work of European priestcraft, which, in its profanity, knows no limit to its disavowal of, and blasphemy against, the Eternal Reality that lives in every animal. Thus was laid the foundation of that harshness and cruelty towards beasts which is customary in Europe, and on which a native of the Asiatic uplands could not look without righteous horror. In English this infamous invention is not to be found; assuredly because the Saxons, when they conquered England, were not yet Christians. Nevertheless the English language shows something analogous in the strange fact that it makes all animals of the neuter gender, the pronoun "it" being employed for them, just as if they were lifeless things. This idiom has a very objectionable sound, especially in the case of dogs, monkeys, and other Primates, and is unmistakably a priestly trick, designed to reduce beasts to the level of inanimate objects. The ancient Egyptians, who dedicated all their days to religion, were accustomed to place in the same vault with a human mummy that of an ibis, a crocodile, etc.; in Europe it is a crime, an abomination to bury a faithful dog beside the resting-place of his master, though it is there perhaps that he, with a fidelity and attachment unknown to the sons of men, awaited his own end. To a recognition of the identity, in all essentials, of the phaenomena which we call "man" and "beast," nothing leads more surely than the study of zoology and anatomy. What shall we say then, when in these days (1839) a canting dissector has been found, who presumes to insist on an absolute and radical difference between human beings and animals, and who goes so far as to attack and calumniate honest zoologists that keep aloof from all priestly guile, eye-service, and hypocrisy, and dare to follow the leading of nature and of truth?
Those persons must indeed be totally blind, or else completely chloroformed by the foetor Judaicus (Jewish stench), who do not discern that the truly essential and fundamental part in man and beast is identically the same thing. That which distinguishes the one from the other does not lie in the primary and original principle, in the inner nature, in the kernel of the two phaenomena (this kernel being in both alike the Will of the individual); it is found in what is secondary, in the intellect, in the degree of perceptive capacity. It is true that the latter is incomparably higher in man, by reason of his added faculty of abstract knowledge, called Reason; nevertheless this superiority is traceable solely to a greater cerebral development, in other words, to the corporeal difference, which is quantitative, not qualitative, of a single part, the brain. In all other respects the similarity between men and animals, both psychical and bodily, is sufficiently striking. So that we must remind our judaised friends in the West, who despise animals, and idolise Reason, that if they were suckled by their mothers, so also was the dog by his. Even Kant fell into this common mistake of his age, and of his country, and I have already administered the censure[7] which it is impossible to withhold. The fact that Christian morality takes no thought for beasts is a defect in the system which is better admitted than perpetuated. One's astonishment is, however, all the greater, because, with this exception, it shows the closest agreement with the Ethics of Brahmanism and Buddhism, being only less strongly expressed, and not carried to the last consequences imposed by logic. On the whole, there seems little room for doubting that, in common with the idea of a god become man, or Avatar,[8] it has an Asiatic origin, and probably came to Judaea by way of Egypt; so that Christianity would be a secondary reflection of the primordial light that shone in India, which, falling first on Egypt, was unhappily refracted from its ruins upon Jewish soil. An apt symbol of the insensibility of Christian Ethics to animals, while in other points its similarity to the Indian is so great, may be found in the circumstance that John the Baptist comes before us in all respects like a Hindu Sannyasin,[9] except that he is clothed in skins: a thing which would be, as is well known, an abomination in the eyes of every follower of Brahmanism or Buddhism. The Royal Society of Calcutta only received their copy of the Vedas on their distinctly promising that they would not have it bound in leather, after European fashion. In silken binding, therefore, it is now to be seen on the shelves of their library. Again: the Gospel story of Peter's draught of fishes, which the Saviour blesses so signally that the boats are overladen, and begin to sink (Luke v. 1-10), forms a characteristic contrast to what is related of Pythagoras. It is said that the latter, initiated as he was in all the wisdom of the Egyptians, bought the draught from the fishermen, while the net was still under water, in order to at once set at liberty the captive denizens of the sea. (Apuleius: De Magia, p. 36: edit. Bipont.)[10] Compassion for animals is intimately connected with goodness of character, and it may be confidently asserted that he, who is cruel to living creatures, cannot be a good man. Moreover, this compassion manifestly flows from the same source whence arise the virtues of justice and loving-kindness towards men. Thus, for instance, people of delicate sensitiveness, on realising that in a fit of ill-humour, or anger, or under the influence of wine, they punished their dog, their horse, their ape undeservedly, or unnecessarily, or excessively, are seized with the same remorse, feel the same dissatisfaction with themselves, as when they are conscious of having done some wrong to one of their fellows. The only difference—a purely nominal one—is that in the latter case this remorse, this dissatisfaction is called the voice of conscience rising in rebuke. I remember having read of an Englishman, who, when hunting in India, had killed a monkey, that he could not forget the dying look which the creature cast on him; so that he never fired at these animals again. Another sportsman, William Harris by name, a true Nimrod, has much the same story to tell. During the years 1836-7 he travelled far into the heart of Africa, merely to indulge his passion for the chase. A passage in his book, published at Bombay in 1838, describes how he shot his first elephant, a female. Next morning on going to look for his game, he found that all the elephants had fled from the neighbourhood, except a young one which had spent the night beside its dead mother. Seeing the huntsmen, it forgot all fear, and came to meet them, with the clearest and most lively signs of disconsolate grief, and put its tiny trunk about them, as if to beg for help. "Then," says Harris, "I was filled with real remorse for what I had done, and felt as if I had committed a murder."
The English nation, with its fine sensibility, is, in fact, distinguished above all others for extraordinary compassion towards animals, which appears at every opportunity, and is so strong that, despite the "cold superstition" which otherwise degrades them, these Anglo-Saxons have been led through its operation to fill up by legislation the lacuna that their religion leaves in morality. For this gap is precisely the reason why in Europe and America there is need of societies for the protection of animals, which are entirely dependent on the law for their efficiency. In Asia the religions themselves suffice, consequently no one there ever thinks of such associations. Meanwhile Europeans are awakening more and more to a sense that beasts have rights, in proportion as the strange notion is being gradually overcome and outgrown, that the animal kingdom came into existence solely for the benefit and pleasure of man. This view,[11] with the corollary that non-human living creatures are to be regarded merely as things, is at the root of the rough and altogether reckless treatment of them, which obtains in the West. To the honour, then, of the English be it said that they are the first people who have, in downright earnest, extended the protecting arm of the law to animals: in England the miscreant, that commits an outrage on beasts, has to pay for it, equally whether they are his own or not. Nor is this all. There exists in London the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, a corporate body voluntarily formed, which, without state assistance, and at great cost, is of no small service in lessening the tale of tortures inflicted on animals. Its emissaries are ubiquitous, and keep secret watch in order to inform against the tormentors of dumb, sensitive creatures; and such persons have therefore good reason to stand in fear of them.[12] At all the steep bridges in London this Society stations a pair of horses, which without any charge is attached to heavy freight-waggons. Is not this admirable? Does it not elicit our approval, as unfailingly as any beneficent action towards men? Also the Philanthropic Society of London has done its part. In 1837 it offered a prize of £30 for the best exposition of the moral reasons which exist to keep men from torturing animals. The line of argument, however, had to be taken almost exclusively from Christianity, whereby the difficulty of the task was, of course, increased; but two years later, in 1839, Mr. Macnamara was the successful competitor. At Philadelphia there is an Animals' Friends' Society, having the same aims; and it is to the President of the latter that a book called Philozoia; or, Moral Reflections on the Actual Condition of Animals, and the Means of Improving the Same (Brussels, 1839), has been dedicated by its author, T. Forster. It is original and well written. Mr. Forster earnestly commends to his readers the humane treatment of animals. As an Englishman he naturally tries to strengthen his position by the support of the Bible; but he is on slippery ground, and meets with such poor success that he ends by catching at the following ingenious position: Jesus Christ (he says) was born in a stable among oxen and asses; which was meant to indicate symbolically that we ought to regard the beasts as our brothers, and treat them accordingly. All that I have here adduced sufficiently proves that the moral chord, of which we are speaking, is now at length beginning to vibrate also in the West. For the rest, we may observe that compassion for sentient beings is not to carry us to the length of abstaining from flesh, like the Brahmans. This is because, by a natural law, capacity for pain keeps pace with the intelligence; consequently men, by going without animal food, especially in the North, would suffer more than beasts do through a quick death, which is always unforeseen; although the latter ought to be made still easier by means of chloroform. Indeed without meat nourishment mankind would be quite unable to withstand the rigours of the Northern climate. The same reasoning explains, too, why we are right in making animals work for us; it is only when they are subjected to an excessive amount of toil that cruelty begins.
(8) It is perhaps not impossible to investigate and explain metaphysically the ultimate cause of that Compassion in which alone all non-egoistic conduct can have its source; but let us for the moment put aside such inquiries, and consider the phaenomenon in question, from the empirical point of view, simply as a natural arrangement. Now if Nature's intention was to soften as much as possible the numberless sufferings of every sort, to which our life is exposed, and which no one altogether escapes; if she wished to provide some counterbalance for the burning Egoism, which fills all beings, and often develops into malice; it will at once strike every one as obvious that she could not have chosen any method more effectual than that of planting in the human heart the wonderful disposition, which inclines one man to share the pain of another, and from which proceeds the voice that bids us, in tones strong and unmistakable, take thought for our neighbour; calling, at one time, "Protect!" at another, "Help!" Assuredly, from the mutual succour thus arising, there was more to be hoped for, towards the attainment of universal well-being, than from a stern Command of duty, couched in general, abstract terms,—the product of certain reasoning processes, and of artificial combinations of conceptions. From such an Imperative, indeed, all the less result could be expected because to the rough human unit general propositions and abstract truths are unintelligible, the concrete only having some meaning for him. And it should be remembered that mankind in its entirety, a very small part alone excepted, has always been rude, and must remain so, since the large amount of bodily toil, which for the race as a whole is inevitable, leaves no time for mental culture. Whereas, in order to awaken that sense, which has been proved to be the sole source of disinterested action, and consequently the true basis of Morals, there is no need of abstract knowledge, but only of intuitive perception, of the simple comprehension of a concrete case. To this Compassion is at once responsive, without the mediation of other thoughts.
(9) The following circumstance will be found in complete accord with the last paragraph. The foundation, which I have given to Ethics, leaves me without a forerunner among the School Philosophers; indeed, my position is paradoxical, as far as their teaching goes, and many of them, for instance, the Stoics (Seneca, De Clementia, II., 5), Spinoza (Ethica, IV., prop. 50), and Kant (Kritik der Praktischen Vernunft, p. 213; R. p. 257) only notice the motive of Compassion to utterly reject and contemn it. On the other hand, my basis is supported by the authority of the greatest moralist of modern times; for such, undoubtedly, J. J. Rousseau is,—that profound reader of the human heart, who drew his wisdom not from books, but from life, and intended his doctrine not for the professorial chair, but for humanity; he, the foe of all prejudice, the foster-child of nature, whom alone she endowed with the gift of being able to moralise without tediousness, because he hit the truth and stirred the heart. I shall therefore venture here to cite some passages from his works in support of my theory, observing that, so far, I have been as sparing as possible with regard to quotations.
In the Discours sur l'Origine de l'Inégalité, p. 91 (edit. Bipont.), he says: Il y a un autre principe, que Hobbes n'a point aperçu, et qui ayant été donné à l'homme pour adoucir, en certaines circonstances, la férocité de son amour-propre, tempère l'ardeur qu'il a pour son bien-être par une RÉPUGNANCE INNÉE À VOIR SOUFFRIR SON SEMBLABLE. Je ne crois pas avoir aucune contradiction à craindre en accordant à l'homme la SEULE VERTU NATURELLE qu'ait été forcé de reconnaître le détracteur le plus outré des vertus humaines. Je parle DE LA PITIÉ, etc.[13]
P. 92: Mandeville a bien senti qu'avec toute leur morale les hommes n'eussent jamais été que des monstres, si la nature ne leur eut donné LA PITIÉ à l'appui de la raison: mais il n'a pas vu, que DE CETTE SEULE QUALITÉ DECOULENT TOUTES LES VERTUS SOCIALES, qu'il veut disputer aux hommes. En effet, qu'est-ce que la générosité, la clémence, l'humanité, sinon LA PITIÉ, appliquée aux faibles, aux coupables, ou a l'espèce humaine en général? La bienveillance et l'amitié même sont, à le bien prendre, des productions d'une pitié constante, fixée sur un objet particulier; car désirer que quelqu'un ne souffre point, qu'est-ce autre chose, que désirer qu'il soit heureux?... La commisération sera d'autant plus énergique, que L'ANIMAL SPECTATEUR S'IDENTIFIERA plus intimement avec L'ANIMAL SOUFFRANT.[14]