A Review of the Systems of Ethics Founded on the Theory of Evolution

by Cora May Williams

Again, the question may be asked whether the sentimental tendency to regard the criminal as a hero is not fostered by the death-sentence—whether the pity aroused at so extreme a fate would not be inclined to take a less harmful form if the treatment of the criminal were at once firm and humane but less sensational. Doubtless, the glory of crime and half its attractiveness for a large class of morbid criminals would be departed, if we could come to regard the latter with commiseration as of a lower and abnormal type of humanity and to treat them as such. But it must be remembered that society, as a whole, is yet far from so scientific a conception; and that combined firmness and kindness of treatment is difficult to secure, both in prison-officials and in those officers who have the power of pardon at present placed in their hands. We need obviously many reforms in our system of sentence and pardon, as well as in the management of our prisons. We need more men like Mr. Brockway of Elmira, Mr. Wardwell of Virginia, and those other modern reformers of prison-life whose office is to them a matter of humanity and not merely of business. And especially, we need more firmness in society as a whole; sympathy and mercy may be evils in the path of human progress when they deteriorate into a weakness which sacrifices the innocent in a mistaken humanity towards the guilty. In order to be well directed, sympathy must consider all men, and not the individual alone; only then is it an unmitigated good.

But as for the argument noticed above with regard to the employment of large sums of money for the maintenance of the criminal classes while the class of honest laborers is yet in destitution, it cannot be considered, on close inspection, as of great weight. Certainly it would not be well to maintain the criminal in luxury while other reforms were waiting. But if we act on the principle of deferring all less important reforms until all the more important ones are accomplished, we shall be in danger of not reforming at all. Any reform that is well-timed and possible is important; for the complication of social relations makes all reforms of weight in their wider significance. No reforms can or should be made in a lump; improvement must come from all sides and little by little; sympathy must be consistent and influence social conditions in every direction gradually as it gradually increases. It is the superficial Utilitarianism which bids us wait such a reform as this, though possible, for another,—the same sort of Utilitarianism which advocates the introduction of the Spartan custom of preserving only well-formed and vigorous infants, and advises the administration of painless poisons to those hopelessly ill and suffering. All these things have their relation to character, and, therefore, to other social evils, or reforms.

And here we are brought finally to the consideration of the point hitherto left out of account,—a point which bears, however, a strong argument; namely, the fact of the possible condemnation of innocent men to death. Even since the limitation of capital punishment to cases of murder the innocent have been hung or guillotined in mistake for the guilty. And for such mistakes there is no reparation; the grave never gives up its dead. Men have sometimes been discovered to be innocent in spite of the strongest evidence against them; human observation is defective, human memory fallible, human character—especially such as often appears in evidence against the murderer—by no means always strictly honorable and honest. Even confessions of guilt have sometimes been proved false. As with regard to other propositions to place the power of the life or death of individuals in the hands of their fellow men, the question presents itself as to whether the use of so great power is not dangerous. And this appears to me the decisive point of our inquiry.

Societies are being formed for the abolition of capital punishment, and feeling is growing strong in its favor. Let us hope, however, that the reformers will adopt a policy stringent and judicious as well as merciful;—that they will not forget that, in order to render the preservation of the murderer harmless to society we need other reforms in law and prison management.

In general, it may be said of all questions, that the conflict between the principles of justice and mercy, known to theological Ethics, resolves itself, from a higher point of view, into the question of justice only. The mercy which is not justice, is either mercy to one at the expense of others, or mercy that spares the offender in one respect to his own greater disadvantage in another. The ideal character is thus at once gentle and strong.

We have followed the development of altruism from egoism up to the point where the thought of punishment ensuing upon the non-performance of duty ceases to play a large part in the motive to action, the reward of the pleasure of others and of their gratitude and love forming a complex motive. But beyond even the incentives of love there lies still a higher motive which, in cases of conflict, must figure as the highest morally. In an ideal state, the social sanction could not conflict with duty; but until we reach such a state, the independence of moral motive must be observed, the moral man must do what appears to him right, in spite of public opinion. The course has its dangers, and the principle must be carried out with caution, the questions involving such a course be carefully considered from all sides and in all lights. But when this has been done, the sense of duty remains supreme. In the ideal man, the consciousness of duty performed should constitute the strongest pleasure, the consciousness of failure in duty the severest pain. This is the solution of the problem Ibsen gives us in "Rosmersholm"; society has not advanced from savagery by permitting all pleasures which the individual desires; nor can it advance further towards the ideal by permitting the individual to choose those pleasures which the future shall regard as evidence of our present semi-barbarous state, since they are pleasures inimical to the peace of others and the general good of society; as in the past, so in the present and future, the harmony between pleasure and duty (that is between the conflicting pleasures of individuals) can be attained only by habit which shall bring the desires of the individual into harmony with duty. Thus only can all desires, the happiness of all individuals, attain to harmony,—to "full" equilibrium.

And this leads me to remark that we have reason to doubt the moral conviction of very many who protest against the "immoral" and "superstitious" restriction of personal pleasure in certain directions. Were such individuals morally convinced, were duty to their fellow men really uppermost in their minds, they would not choose darkness and secrecy for their deeds, but after careful and thorough statement of their opinions and reasons would show the earnestness of their belief by open act. The man whose moral conviction is to him the highest duty does not fear public opinion, but dares to follow that which seems to him right, in the face of slander; therefore, we suspect the man who hides his deeds, of seeking his own pleasure and not that of society as a whole.

"Conscience is harder than our enemies,
Knows more, accuses with more nicety,
Nor needs to question Rumor if we fall
Below the perfect level of our thought.
I fear no outward arbiter,"

says Don Silva in "The Spanish Gypsy."