Progressive Morality: An Essay in Ethics

by Thomas Fowler

And here, perhaps, I may take occasion to draw attention to the importance of the acquisition of political knowledge by all citizens of the state, and especially by those who belong to the leisured classes. It is a plain duty to society, that men should not exercise political power, unless they have some knowledge of the questions at issue. The amount of this knowledge may vary almost infinitely, from that of the veteran statesman to that of the newly enfranchised elector, but it is within the power of every one, who can observe and reason, to acquire some knowledge of at least the questions which affect his own employment and the welfare of his own family and neighbourhood, and, unless he will take thus much pains, he might surely have the modesty to forego his vote. To record a vote simply to please some one else is only one degree baser than to barter it for money or money's worth, and indeed it is often only an indirect mode of doing the same thing.

There is a large class of cases, primarily affecting individuals rather than society at large, which, if we look a little below the surface and trace their results, are of a much more pernicious character than is usually recognised, and, as ethical knowledge increases, ought to incur far more severe reprobation than they now do. Foremost amongst these is what I may call the current morality of debts. A man incurs a debt with a tradesman which he has no intention or no reasonable prospect of paying, knowing that the tradesman has no grounds for suspecting his inability to pay. The tradesman parts with the goods, supposing that he will receive the equivalent; the customer carries them off, knowing that this equivalent is not, and is not likely to be, forthcoming. I confess that I am entirely unable to distinguish this case from that of ordinary theft. And still there is many a man, well received in society, who habitually acts in this manner, and whose practice must be more than suspected by his friends and associates. He and his friends would be much astonished if he were accosted as a thief, and still I cannot see how he could reasonably repudiate this title. Short of this extreme case, which, however, is by no means uncommon, there are many degrees of what may be called criminal negligence or imprudence in contracting debts, as where a man runs up a large bill with only a slender probability of meeting it, or a larger bill than he can probably meet in full, or one of which he must defer the payment beyond a reasonable time. In all these cases, which are much aggravated, if the goods obtained are luxuries and not necessaries (for it is one of the plainest duties of every man, who is removed from absolute want, to live within his means), there is either actual dishonesty or a dangerous approximation to it, and it would be a great advance in every-day morality if society were to recognise this fact distinctly, and apportion its censures accordingly. Where the tradesman knows that he is running a risk, the customer being also aware that he knows it, and adapts his charges to the fact, it is a case of 'Greek meet Greek,' and, even if the customer deserves reprobation, the tradesman certainly deserves no compassion. But this is a case outside the range of honest dealing altogether, and must be regulated by other sentiments and other laws than those which prevail in ordinary commerce. There is another well-known, and to many men only too familiar, exception to the ordinary relation of debtor and creditor. A friend 'borrows' money of you, though it is understood on both sides that he will have no opportunity of repaying it, and that it is virtually a gift. Here, as the creditor does not expect any repayment, and the debtor knows that he does not, there is no act of dishonesty, but the debtor, by asking for a loan and not a gift, evades the obligation of gratitude and reciprocal service which would attach to the latter, and thus takes a certain advantage of his benefactor. In this case it would be far more straightforward, even if it involved some humiliation, to use plain words, and to accept at once the true position of a recipient, and not affect the seeming one of a borrower. Connected with the subject of debtor and creditor is the ungrounded notion, to which I have already adverted, that the payment of what are called debts of honour ought to take precedence of all other pecuniary obligations. As these 'debts of honour' generally arise from bets or play or loans contracted with friends, the position assumed is simply that debts incurred to members of our own class or persons whom we know place us under a greater obligation than debts incurred to strangers or persons belonging to a lower grade in society. As thus stated, the maxim is evidently preposterous and indefensible, and affords a good instance, as I have noticed in a previous chapter, of the subordination of the laws of general morality to the convenience and prejudices of particular cliques and classes. If there is any competition at all admissible between just debts, surely those which have been incurred in return for commodities supplied have a stronger claim than those, arising from play or bets, which represent no sacrifice on the part of the creditor.

Another instance of the class of cases which I am now considering is to be found in reckless gambling. Men who indulge in this practice are usually condemned as being simply hare-brained or foolish; but, if we look a little below the surface, we shall find that their conduct is often highly criminal. Many a time a man risks on play or a bet or a horse-race or a transaction on the stock exchange the permanent welfare, sometimes even the very subsistence, of his wife and children or others depending on him; or, if he loses, he cuts short a career of future usefulness, or he renders himself unable to develope, or perhaps even to retain, his business or his estates, and so involves his tenants, or clerks, or workmen in his ruin, or, perhaps, he becomes bankrupt and is thus the cause of wide-spread misery amongst his creditors. And, even if these extreme results do not follow, his rash conduct may be the cause of much minor suffering amongst his relatives or tradesmen or dependents, who may have to forego many legitimate enjoyments in consequence of his one act of greed or thoughtlessness, while, in all cases, he is encouraging by his example a practice which, if not his own ruin, is certain to be the ruin of others. The light-heartedness with which many a man risks his whole fortune, and the welfare of all who are dependent on him, for what would, if gained, be no great addition to his happiness, is a striking example of the frequent blindness of men to all results except those which are removed but one step from their actions. A gamester, however sanguine, sees that he may lose his money, but he does not see all the ill consequences to himself and others which the loss of his money will involve. Hence an act, which, if we look to the intention, is often only thoughtless, becomes, in result, criminal, and it is of the utmost importance that society, by its reprobation, should make men realise what the true nature of such actions is.

I pass now to a case of a different character, which has only, within recent years, begun to attract the attention of the moralist and politician at all—the peril to life and health ensuing on the neglect of sanitary precautions. A man carelessly neglects his drains, or allows a mass of filth to accumulate in his yard, or uses well-water without testing its qualities or ascertaining its surroundings. After a time a fever breaks out in his household, and, perhaps, communicates itself to his neighbours, the result being several deaths and much sickness and suffering. These deaths and this suffering are the direct result of his negligence, and, though it would, doubtless, be hard and unjust to call him a murderer, he is this in effect. Of course, if, notwithstanding warning or reflexion, he persists in his negligence, with a full consciousness of the results which may possibly ensue from it, he incurs a grave moral responsibility, and it is difficult to conceive a case more fit for censure, or even punishment. Nor are the members of a corporation or a board, in the administration of an area of which they have undertaken the charge, less guilty, under these circumstances, than is a private individual in the management of his own premises. If men were properly instructed in the results of their actions or pretermissions, in matters of this nature, and made fully conscious of the responsibility which those results entail upon them, there would soon be a marked decrease in physical suffering, disease, and premature deaths. The average duration of life, in civilized countries, has probably already been lengthened by the increased knowledge and the increased sense of responsibility which have even now been attained.

Closely connected with these considerations on the diminution of death, disease, and suffering by improved sanitary arrangements, is the delicate subject of the propagation of hereditary disease. It is a commonplace that the most important of all the acts of life, is that on which men and women venture most thoughtlessly. But experience shews, unmistakably, that there are many forms of disease, both mental and bodily, which are transmitted from the parents to the children, and that, consequently, the marriage of a diseased parent, or of a parent with a tendency to disease, will probably be followed by the existence of diseased children. In a matter of this kind, everything, of course, depends on the amount of the risk incurred, that is to say, on the extent of the evil and the probability of its transmission. The former of these data is supplied by common observation, the latter by the researches of the pathologist. It is for the moralist simply to draw attention to the subject, and to insist on the responsibility attaching to a knowledge of it. The marriages of persons who are very poor, and have no reasonable prospect of bringing up children in health, decency, and comfort, are open to similar considerations but, as in the last case, I must content myself with simply adverting to the responsibility attaching to them, and noting the extent to which that responsibility is usually ignored. In connexion with this question, it may be added that many of the attempts made by well-meaning people to alleviate poverty and distress have, unfortunately, too often the effect of ultimately aggravating those evils by diverting attention from their real causes. A not unnatural reluctance to discuss or reflect on matters of this delicate character, combined with the survival of maxims and sentiments derived from an entirely different condition of society, are, doubtless, to a great extent, the reasons of the backward condition of morality on this subject.

The importance, from a social point of view, of the careful education of children with reference to their future position in life has already been considered, but, in connexion with the class of duties I am now treating, I may draw attention to the obligation under which parents lie, in this respect, to their children themselves. The ancient morality, which was the product of the patriarchal form of society, when the patria potestas was still in vigour, laid peculiar stress on the duties of children to parents, while it almost ignored the reciprocal duties of parents to children. When the members of a family were seldom separated, and the pressure of population had not yet begun to be felt, this was the natural order of ideas with respect to the parental relation. But now that the common labour of the household is replaced by competition amongst individuals, and most young men and women have, at an early age, to leave their families and set about earning their own living, or carving out their own career, it is obvious, on reflexion, that parents are guilty of a gross breach of duty, if they do not use their utmost endeavours to facilitate the introduction of their children to the active work of life, and to fit them for the circumstances in which they are likely to be placed. To bring up a son or daughter in idleness or ignorance ought to be as great a reproach to a parent as it is to a child to dishonour its father or mother. And yet, in the upper and middle classes at all events, there are many parents who, without incurring much reprobation from their friends, prefer to treat their children like playthings or pet animals rather than to take the pains to train them with a view to their future trials and duties. It ought to be thoroughly realised, and, as the moral consciousness becomes better adapted to the existing circumstances of society, it is to be trusted that it will be realised, that parents have no moral right to do what they choose with their children, but that they are under a strict obligation both to society and to their children themselves so to mould their dispositions and develope their faculties and inform their minds and train their bodies as to render them good and useful citizens, and honest and skilful men. It is to be hoped that, some day, people will regard with as much surprise the notion that parents have a right to neglect the education of their children as we now regard with wonder, when we first hear of it; the maxim of archaic law, that a parent had a right to put his child to death.

Much of the trouble, vexation, and misery of which men are the cause to themselves is due to cowardice, or the false shame which results from attaching undue importance to custom, fashion, or the opinion of others, even when that opinion is not confirmed by their own reflexion. Shame is an invaluable protection to men, as a restraining feeling. But the objects to which it properly attaches are wrong-doing, unkindness, discourtesy, to others, and, as regards ourselves, ignorance, imprudence, intemperance, impurity, and avoidable defects or misfortunes. While it confines itself to objects such as these, it is one of the sternest and, at the same time, most effective guardians of virtue and self-respect. But, as soon as a man begins to care about what others will say of circumstances not under his own control, such as his race, his origin, his appearance, his physical defects, or his lack of wealth or natural talents, he may be laying up for himself a store of incalculable misery, and is certainly enfeebling his character and impairing his chances of future usefulness. It is under the influence of this motive, for instance, that many a man lives above his income, not for the purpose of gratifying any real wants either of himself or his family, but for the sake of 'keeping up appearances,' though he is exposing his creditors to considerable losses, his family to many probable disadvantages, and himself to almost certain disgrace in the future. It is under the influence of this motive, too, that many men, in the upper and middle classes, rather than marry on a modest income, and drop out of the society of their fashionable acquaintance, form irregular sexual connexions, which are a source of injury to themselves and ruin to their victims.

A circumstance which has probably contributed largely, in recent times, to aggravate the feeling of false shame is the new departure which, in commercial communities, has been taken by class-distinctions. The old line, which formed a sharp separation between the nobility and all other classes, has been almost effaced, and in its place have been substituted many shades of difference between different grades of society, together with a broad line of demarcation between what may be called the genteel and the ungenteel classes. It was a certain advantage of the old line that it could not be passed, and, hence, though there might be some jealousy felt towards the nobility as a class, there were none of the heart-burnings which attach to an uncertain position or a futile effort to rise. In modern society, on the other hand, there is hardly any one whose position is so fixed, that he may not easily rise above or fall below it, and hence there is constant room for social ambition, social disappointment, and social jealousy. Again, the broad line of gentility, which now corresponds most closely with the old distinction of nobility, is determined by such a number of considerations,—birth, connexions, means, manners, education, with the arbitrary, though almost essential, condition of not being engaged in retail trade,—that those who are just excluded by it are apt to feel their position somewhat unintelligible, and, therefore, all the more galling to their pride and self-respect It would be curious to ascertain what proportion of the minor inconveniences and vexations of modern life is due to the perplexity, on the one side, and the soreness, on the other, created by the exclusiveness of class-distinctions. That these distinctions are an evil, in themselves, there can, I think, be no doubt. Men cannot, of course, all know one another, much less be on terms of intimacy with one another, and the degree of their acquaintance or intimacy will always be largely dependent on community of tastes, interests, occupations, and early associations. But these facts afford no reason why one set of men should look down with superciliousness and disdain on another set of men who have not enjoyed the same early advantages or are not at present endowed with the same gifts or accomplishments as themselves, or why they should hold aloof from them when there is any opportunity of common action or social intercourse. The pride of class is eminently unreasonable, and, in those who profess to believe in Christianity, pre-eminently inconsistent. It will always, probably, continue to exist, but we may hope that it will be progressively modified by the advance of education, by the spread of social sympathy, and by a growing habit of reflexion. The ideal social condition would be one in which, though men continued to form themselves into groups, no one thought the worse or the more lightly of another, because he belonged to a different group from himself.

Connected with exaggerated class-feeling are abuses of-esprit de corps_. Unlike class-feeling, esprit de corps is, in itself, a good. It binds men together, as in a vessel or a regiment, a school or a college, an institution or a municipality, and leads them to sacrifice their ease or their selfish aims, and to act loyally and cordially with one another in view of the common interest. It is only when it sacrifices to the interests of its own body wider interests still, and subordinates patriotism or morality to the narrower sentiment attaching to a special law of honour, that it incurs the reprobation of the moralist. But that it does sometimes deservedly incur this reprobation, admits of no question. A man, to save the honour of his regiment, may impair the efficiency of an army, or, to promote the interests of his college or school, may inflict a lasting injury on education, or, to protect his associates, may withhold or pervert evidence, or, to aggrandize his trade, may ruin his country. It is the special province of the moralist, in these cases, to intervene, and point out how the more general is being sacrificed to the more special interest, the wider to the narrower sentiment, morality itself to a point of honour or etiquette. But, at the same time, he must recollect that the esprit de corps of any small aggregate of men is, as such, always an ennobling and inspiriting sentiment, and that, unless it plainly detach them from the rest of the community, and is attended with pernicious consequences to society at large, it is unwise, if not reckless, to seek to impair it.

To descend to a subject of less, though still of considerable, importance, I may notice that cowardice and fear of 'what people will say' lies at the bottom of much ill-considered charity and of that facility with which men, often to the injury of themselves or their families, if not of the very objects pleaded for, listen to the solicitations of the inconsiderate or interested subscription-monger. It has now become a truism that enormous mischief is done by the indiscriminate distribution of alms to beggars or paupers. It is no less true, though not so obvious, that much unintentional harm is often done by subscriptions for what are called public objects. People ought to have sufficient mental independence to ask themselves what will be the ultimate effects of subscribing their money, and, if they honestly believe that those effects will be pernicious or of doubtful utility, they ought to have the courage to refuse it. There is no good reason, simply because a man asks me and I find that others are yielding to him, why I should subscribe a guinea towards disfiguring a church, or erecting an ugly and useless building, or extending pauperism, or encouraging the growth of luxurious habits, or spreading opinions which I do not believe. And I may be the more emboldened in my refusal, when I consider how mixed, or how selfish, are often the motives of those who solicit me, and that the love of notoriety, or the gratification of a feeling of self-importance, or a fussy restlessness, or the craving for preferment is frequently quite as powerful an incentive of their activity as a desire to promote the objects explicitly avowed. There is, moreover, an important consideration, connected with this subject, which often escapes notice, namely, the extent to which new and multiplied appeals to charity often interfere with older, nearer, and more pressing claims. Thus, the managers of the local hospital or dispensary or charity organisation have often too good cause to regret the enthusiastic philanthropy, which is sending help, of questionable utility, to distant parts of the world. People cannot subscribe to everything, and they are too apt to fall in with the most recent and most fashionable movement. In venturing on these remarks, I trust it is needless to say that I am far from deprecating the general practice of subscribing to charities and public objects, a form of co-operation which has been rendered indispensable by the habits and circumstances of modern life. I am simply insisting on the importance and responsibility of ascertaining whether the aims proposed are likely to be productive of good or evil, and deprecating the cowardice or listlessness which yields to a solicitation, irrespectively of the merits of the proposal.