The Evolutionist may state the problem in still a new form, as follows: The survival of any organism at a given period is determined by the fitness of that organism for the conditions of the environment at that period. The form and function of the animal are thus, at each moment, determined by the environment. And since only functions in harmony with the environment render the organism capable of survival under that environment, the functions of surviving organisms are in a direction favorable to the preservation of the form of which they are the functions. Since, moreover, self-preservation in some form, whether as preservation of the whole organism or as preservation of a part through satisfaction of its function (rendered possible only through harmony between the function and the environment), always constitutes the end sought by the will, the individual appears to himself to will ends, whereas these are all determined for him by the survival of the fittest, whose function he inherits and carries out subject only to the modification of the peculiar elements of his own environment. If we suppose, at any point of development, an action not in accord with that which the laws of nature necessitate decided upon by the will, such an action cannot be carried out. But even a decision is impossible contrary to natural law, since in preceding evolution there has been no point at which nature has not in like manner determined action, and the present decision, being the expression of function attained as the result of evolution, must be as much determined as the action which follows.
Or if we return to our conception of the development of stable from unstable conditions, we may consider all evolution of higher function as increased adaptation, that is, as harmony with an ever wider circle of nature, the reason appearing as corresponding concomitant knowledge of this widening circle, to which the function of the organism is adjusted. The reflection preceding decision on an end consists in the imagination, by aid of the memory of past experience, of some of the constant results of particular function, to which function, however, the organism is irresistibly moved. Thus that which is generally regarded as the greatest independence of nature is, in reality, the greatest subjection to nature considered as a whole, although this wider subjection means an increasing independence of the mere excitation of the moment. The ability to weigh all sides of a question, sometimes termed Freedom, is rather the widest adaptation, which means the widest determination by nature. The lower organisms may be, as Rolph and Alexander assert, as well adapted to their particular environment as the higher; but the higher are adapted to a wider environment, to more of the variations of the conditions on the earth's surface. Man is the most widely adapted of all animals. This is a fact which we express when we say that man's power of adaptation is greatest,—that is, that there are latent tendencies in him, the result of former adaptations, which may correspond sufficiently to new environment, i.e. to environment involving many new elements, to enable him to survive. This wider adaptation expresses itself especially in the higher development of the nervous centres, to which man's higher reason corresponds; it is through the reason especially that his adaptiveness comes to light.
The statistician often has considerable to say against a doctrine of freedom of the will. He calls attention to the necessary character of human action as evidenced by its uniformities under uniform circumstances, in the various important relations of life. These uniformities are not less than those which statistics reveal in disease and death and other events classed as not under the control of the will.
And to all this evidence we may add that of the history of the mental life of the species, derived from the combined labors of the geologist, the ethnologist, the philologist, and the historian. Everything goes to prove an evolution in the mental life of man, as gradual, and as much subject to the influence of the environment, as his physical evolution has been. Carneri says, "The eternal laws of mind point out the way upon which man has to proceed; it is the same way by which man has become man, and by which mankind must go forward even if it does not will thus to proceed."[132]
And again, the authorities on mental disease demonstrate the constant relations, not only of general health of brain to health of mind, and of disease of brain to mental unsoundness, but also of particular physical symptoms to particular mental symptoms. This constancy of relations is revealed with more certainty and distinctness by every step in the progress of medical knowledge. The specialist in mental disease inquires with reason how we can acknowledge the physical processes of the body to be governed by natural law, yet assert the emancipation from law of the psychical processes which vary concomitantly with these in a manner that science shows to be perfectly constant. To the testimony of Psychiatry may be added that of the comparatively new science of Criminology.
And, finally, Evolutional Ethics demonstrates the constancy of character, the persistence of habit, and the uniformity of its change under the influence of environment. If there is no persistence of character and uniformity in its action, we have no reason, as various authors have shown, for trust or distrust, for praise or blame; and, I think we may add, none for love or dislike, reverence or contempt, enthusiasm or coldness, in the contemplation of character or conduct. If the fact that a man acts honorably, kindly, nobly, in one instance is not a warranty that we may with reason expect him to act similarly again under similar circumstances, allowance being made for error in our interpretation of motive (which may have been merely self-interested where we thought it disinterested) and for changes produced in character by the environment between the first act and the opportunity of the second, then character is merely a jumbled chaos of chance, and the name "habit" a contradiction in terms. We may, perhaps, respect the single act, but we have no reason for respecting the individual performing it, since the "individual" cannot be regarded as coëxtensive with a single act of his life, and least of all when the act gives no clew to a permanent basis issuing in uniform action of which law can be predicated. In this case, the noble deed, or any number of noble deeds, afford us no security that the next act of the person performing them, or all the rest of the acts of his life, may not be wholly ignoble, base, and vile.
In the face of all the considerations thus offered us, we cannot well find reason for accrediting the will with a peculiar position in the universe, as emancipated from the natural law which we discover in all other phenomena. But it behooves us, in this connection, to inquire as to just what is the significance of the term "natural law." It has already been implicitly defined in our previous considerations. Lewes and several other modern philosophical writers have given excellent definitions of the expression. Lewes writes as follows: "Law is only one of two conceptions, (1) a notation of the process observed in phenomena, which process we mentally detach and generalize by extending it to all similar phenomena; (2) an abstract Type, which, though originally constructed from the observed Process, does nevertheless depart from what is really observed, and substitutes an Ideal Process, constructing what would be the course of the process were the conditions different from those actually present. The first conception is so far real that it expresses the observed series of positions. It is the process of phenomena, not an agent apart from them, not an agency determining them, but simply the ideal summation of their positions.... Phenomena, in so far as they are ruled, regulated, determined in this direction rather than in that, and necessarily determined in the direction taken,... are determined by no external agent corresponding to Law, but by their coöperant factors internal and external; alter one of these factors and the product will be differently determined. It is owing to the very general misconception of the nature of Law, that there arises the misconception of Necessity; the fact that events arrive irresistibly when their conditions are present is confounded with the conception that the events must arrive whether the conditions be present or not, being fatally predetermined. Necessity simply says that whatever is, is, and will vary with varying conditions."[133] Neither Natural Law nor Necessity is an entity extraneous to phenomena which governs or compels them; the two are generalizations merely by which we express a certain uniformity that we find universal.
Let us return to our analysis of the organic as matter and of function as its motion. Go as far as we like in our analysis, and we still have left positive entities of matter and force, or matter, motion, and the equivalent of motion in resistance; moreover, we cannot suppose either matter or force to decrease by our analysis. Here, therefore, we have indestructible entities, and these, not Law and Necessity, are the positive factors. But if the final divisions of matter leave us still positive factors, then the combinations of these must be positive also; not only the theoretical atoms of the chemist, or the organic cells with their motions and functions, but the combinations of these in organisms, must be positive.
It is said that the organism answers to its environment "as the clay to the mould"; that it is formed by the environment and adjusted to it. Here we may inquire whether the adjustment referred to is present adjustment or that of the whole development of the organism. If present action of the environment is all that is had in view, it may be objected that not anything in the environment, and not the whole environment, is more positive than the organism. The one of the two factors cannot be regarded as positive, the other as merely negative, the environment as the active and formative, the organism as the passive and formed, the environment as determining, the organism as determined.
But we may also consider the organism in the process of development. In this case, we seem to find reason for regarding it as purely the product of the environment in which it has arisen. The product it certainly is in one sense; that is, it is the end-form of a series of changes which we may suppose originally inorganic matter, or (if we prefer to begin with the lowest form of life) simplest forms of organic matter, to have undergone. But the present forms of matter everywhere are, in like manner, the products of the past changes of matter; if we trace these changes which have produced present forms, in the case of the inorganic as well as that of the organic, back to any point of time which we may choose as a beginning, we shall find in neither case more matter or a greater amount of force than at the present period; we shall find the same matter in different combinations, the same force in other forms. Present forms are not greater or less than past ones, but their exact equivalents; the beginning was not greater than the end; the producing forms and forces were not greater than are their products. By a backward course of thought comprehending evolution we may bring unity into our conception of the organic, but we find no new factors of force, and need to avoid laying stress upon the process to the depreciation of the importance of the product. We may be led to suspect that our search after new and more important factors was only another form of the search after an independent cause according to which all other phenomena may be said to vary. Our mathematical habit of selecting some one side of natural process as independent, in order to trace, by its variation, the variation of the others, leads us to regard the one side, phase, or portion, of phenomena as actually thus independent; although we forget, in this assumption, that we may select any phase for our mathematical independent, and are not confined to any particular one. The organism is itself a part of the environment regarded as conditioning, when we consider the development of other organisms, or change in inorganic matter, with which it is in contact. Our minds are unable to comprehend the whole of nature as variation only, and we fasten on some one part of the process as independent of the general change or as holding a unique position in it, from which to consider the variation of the rest. And the conception of some one part of phenomena as cause disappointing us, on closer investigation, as far as merely present phenomena are concerned, we remove the conception farther back into a dim past which we fail to analyze in thought with the same completeness with which we analyze the present. We are not, however, in the habit of tracing back any other than just the organic forms to an arbitrary point which we call the beginning, and emphasizing this in distinction from present conditions; in considering the inorganic, we simply notice present conditions and mark the result of action and reaction between this and that other form of matter with which it comes in contact.