(c) It is worth observing in this connection that even in Germany the Germanic propaganda had to trick itself out in a pseudo-universal jargon. It had to say large-sounding things about a Kultur-mission to the world in order to validate itself in the eyes of the German people. The claim implied in the Kultur-mission as it was commonly expounded is so preposterous as to be self-refuting to a normal mind; but this systematic diffusion of the idea proves that man has reached a point where the power and wealth of a particular group is no longer able by itself to evoke an effectual response in the individuals who compose the group. The fact is that civilised mankind is slowly learning to think in universal terms. Its social grasp is already faintly embracing the whole world.
This circumstance tends to simplify the sociologist’s task very materially. While the application of the polity which he evolves will require to take account of the peculiar traditions and institutions of different groups, he will be free to work out his polity in terms which are independent of the present exclusive and conflicting aims of the groups which compose the world of man. He will state the ultimate problems of society in Germany in the same terms as he will state those in America; for he will necessarily be dealing with the one factor which is common to both. There cannot be a distinctive social science in Germany and another in America, differing from one another in essentials and both at the same time being true. There will be endless variety in the methods by which social principles are applied by different groups; for we cannot write off the past of a people and the institutions in which its history is embodied. Yet there can be no true sociology in England or in Germany unless its postulates are equally valid in America. In other words these postulates must be drawn from a disinterested study of personality. They will not concern themselves with the welfare of a particular group, in whatever terms that welfare may be defined. But they will be concerned with the good of the world of groups because they are derived from the one fact which is common to and underlies them all, and which, despite conflicting aims still binds human groups together in a permanent unity, namely, personality.
IV
The aims of our social polity must, therefore, be defined congruously with the nature of personality; and the corresponding social processes must validate themselves by bringing to those whom they affect, the sense of movement towards a real and recognisable personal good. It does not require that all the individuals composing a society should organise their common life with the conscious and deliberate aim of personal self-realisation; but it is certain that the processes of a genuine social integration will be accompanied by a certain growing emotional satisfaction in the persons concerned. It is generally assumed that this emotional satisfaction is to be described as happiness; but it is probably something deeper and more organic than the state which this word connotes. Professor Dewey says that “to find out what one is fitted to do, and to secure an opportunity to do it, is the key of happiness.”[[9]] This is, of course, true so far as it goes; but it is symptomatic of the inadequate analysis which this point generally receives. Obviously there are possibilities of self-realisation and personal satisfaction far beyond the attainment which Professor Dewey indicates in this sentence. We might, perhaps, find a better definition of the emotional state which we should require our process of social development to produce, in the New Testament use of the word joy. There the word is clearly associated with an emotional state consequent upon a sense of accomplishment or discovery. The golfer experiences it for a passing moment after a completely successful drive from the tee. The artist knows it more durably as he puts the finishing touch to what he believes to be his masterpiece. Gibbon had it (not without a large tincture of self-admiration) on the memorable evening on which he finished the “Decline and Fall.” It is the condition which is described by the word “fruition;”[[10]] the inward reaction evoked by the sense of arrival, of fulfilment, and of course—derivatively—of being surely on the way. It comes to a man when he knows he is on the road to personal completeness.
[9]. Democracy and Education, p. 360.
[10]. This word is so frequently mishandled that it is perhaps necessary to point out that it does not mean bearing fruit. It is derived from the Latin word fruor, I enjoy; and it describes an inward state.
Illustrative of the New Testament use of the word joy, the following passages may be cited: John ii. 30, “This my joy is made full” (spoken by John Baptist on hearing that Jesus was launched on the full tide of His ministry.) John xvi. 21, “... when she is delivered of the child, she remembereth no more the anguish for joy that a man is born unto the world.” Matt. xiii. 14, “In his joy, he goeth and selleth all that he hath” (the merchant man who has found the pearl of great price). Luke xv. 9, “Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep that was lost.”
It is upon the question of what constitutes personal completeness that we have to reach some kind of conclusion if our sociological thinking is to be fruitful and if we are to have the proper tests to apply to our social programmes. Obviously the society we want to produce is one which will provide the conditions under which every man may rise to the full stature of his manhood. But what is the full-grown man? Apparently the only person in the modern world who has possessed a definite and vivid conception of the full-grown man is Nietzsche. But Nietzsche’s doctrine is ruled out by our democratic hypothesis. He has told us that mankind falls into two broad classes of master and slave, and though he recognises a considerable hierarchy of social grades, he sees, nevertheless, at the one end the ruling class, and at the other “the class of man who thrives best when he is looked after and closely observed, the man who is happy to serve not because he must, but because he is what he is, the man uncorrupted by political and religious lies concerning liberty, equality and fraternity, who is half conscious of the abyss which separates him from his superiors, and who is happiest when he is performing those acts which are not beyond his limitations.”[[11]] Obviously the only kind of society possible on the Nietzschean terms is an armed peace between supermen and “slave morality” for the rest. The will to power soon or late issues in anarchy. The strength of the position of Nietzsche lies in the theoretic justification it provides for the native human bias which leads to the quest of personal ascendency, and the struggle for possession. The result of this tendency has been the constant subordination and exploitation of the weak by the strong, and a ceaseless scrimmage among the strong in which the weak are the pawns; and if this struggle has not brought about the Nietzschean equilibrium, it is due, presumably, to the enervating influence of Christianity. Yet, here, in this self-regarding bias we have the original source of all our social chaos; but the disorder is not to be overcome by inhibiting this impulse. It is sometimes supposed that human nature is incurably and permanently self-regarding and anarchic; but this is not true. It is indeed true that human nature does take easily to the practice of self-assertion as against others; this is the penalty of our inheritance from the “ape and the tiger.” But it is mere folly to suppose that man has to carry this sorrowful entail in perpetuity. It is fastened on him largely by reason of the external circumstances of his life, a vicious social heredity which has put a premium upon power and pushfulness, and an atmosphere of competition in which capacity and cunning win the prize. It is, however, not impossible to communicate to men a social vision which is able to divert the natural energies of the human spirit into more generous channels. This, did they but know it, is the peculiar vocation of the preacher and the teacher.
[11]. A. M. Ludovici, Nietszche, pp. 85f.
Mr. Bertrand Russell has recently laid just emphasis upon the supremacy of impulse in determining human conduct; and has pointed out the distinction between impulses which make for life and those which make for death. William Blake had a somewhat similar view. What Blake in “The Marriage of Heaven and Hell” calls energy appears to be that vital stress which expresses itself in our impulses, and which in the form of “poetic” energy is the source of creative art. In Blake’s psychology, this energy only works out healthily and fruitfully when it is co-ordinated on the one side with Reason and on the other by Desire; and he traces our human troubles to an undue ascendency of one or other of these two balancing principles. When Reason prevails over Desire, it imposes disastrous restraint upon energy; but when the tables are turned, the ascendency of Desire leads to the “vegetated life.” Blake’s analysis has much to commend it; and it appears to supply the necessary complement to Mr. Russell’s. For our impulses, whether they make for life or death are the same impulses—the difference in their result springing from a difference in their direction, and in the conditions under which they operate.