“I was,” he tells us, “like those who wish to get awake, but who, overcome by sleep, fall back into slumber. There is certainly no one who would wish to sleep always, and who would not rather, if he is healthy of mind, prefer the waking to the sleeping state; and yet there is nothing more difficult than to shake off the languor which weighs our limbs down; and often, though the hour for waking has come, we are against our will made captives by the sweetness of sleep.... I was held back by the frivolous pleasures and foolish vanities which I had found in the company of my former friends: they hung on the vestures of my flesh, whispering, ‘Art thou going to abandon us?’... If, on the one hand, virtue attracted and persuaded me, pleasure on the other captivated and enslaved me.... I had no other answer for the former, than: ‘Presently, presently, wait a little.’ But this ‘presently’ had no end and this ‘wait a little’ was indefinitely prolonged, Wretch that I am! who will deliver me from the body of this death?”[160]
“I was,” he tells us, “like those who wish to get awake, but who, overcome by sleep, fall back into slumber. There is certainly no one who would wish to sleep always, and who would not rather, if he is healthy of mind, prefer the waking to the sleeping state; and yet there is nothing more difficult than to shake off the languor which weighs our limbs down; and often, though the hour for waking has come, we are against our will made captives by the sweetness of sleep.... I was held back by the frivolous pleasures and foolish vanities which I had found in the company of my former friends: they hung on the vestures of my flesh, whispering, ‘Art thou going to abandon us?’... If, on the one hand, virtue attracted and persuaded me, pleasure on the other captivated and enslaved me.... I had no other answer for the former, than: ‘Presently, presently, wait a little.’ But this ‘presently’ had no end and this ‘wait a little’ was indefinitely prolonged, Wretch that I am! who will deliver me from the body of this death?”[160]
At so painful a juncture, the Christian religion offers its children an all-powerful and efficacious remedy: this is what it callsgrace. But of this means moral philosophy cannot dispose; all it can do is to find in the study of human nature the exclusively natural means God has endowed it with, to elevate man to virtue. Now, these means, limited thoughthey be, should not be considered inefficient, since for many centuries they sufficed the greatest men and sages of antiquity.[161]
179. Rules of Malebranche and Aristotle.—We may take for a starting point this maxim of Malebranche, which he borrowed from Aristotle:Acts produce habits, and habits produce acts.[162]A habit, in fact, is induced by a certain number of often repeated actions; and once generated, it produces in its turn acts, so to say, spontaneous and without any effort of the will. Thence spring vices and virtues; and the problem is to know how the first may be corrected, and the second retained: for the question is not only to pass from evil to good, but we should also take care not to slide from good into evil.
If the first maxim of Malebranche were absolute, it would follow that the soul could not change its habits, nor the bad man improve, nor the good become corrupt; it would follow that hope would be interdicted to the one, and that the other would have nothing more to fear; consequences which experience shows to be entirely false. Some fanatical sects may have believed that virtue or holiness once attained could never again be lost,[163]and this belief served as a shield to the most shameful disorders. Facts, on the contrary, teach us that there is no virtue so infallible as to be secure against a fall, and no vice ever so deeply rooted that may not belessened or destroyed. In fact, and this is Malebranche’s second maxim:One can always act against a ruling habit.If one can act contrary to a positive habit, such acts often repeated may, according to the first maxim, produce, by the effort of the will, a new habit which will take the place of the preceding one. One can thus either corrupt or correct one’s self. Only, as the virtuous habits are the more painful to acquire, and the vicious habits the more agreeable, it will always be more easy to pass from good to evil than from evil to good.
How shall we proceed to substitute a good habit for a bad one? Aristotle says that when we have a defect to get rid of, we should throw ourselves into the opposite extreme, so that after having removed ourselves with all our might from the dreaded fault we may in some respects, and through natural elasticity, return to the just medium indicated by reason, just as a bent wand straightens itself again when let go. This maxim may do in certain cases and with certain characters, but it would have to be applied cautiously. One may, under the influence of enthusiasm, throw himself into a violent extreme, and remain there for some time; but at the moment of reaction it is not impossible that, instead of stopping at the desired medium, he may fall back into the first extreme again.
180. Rules of Bacon and Leibnitz.—Bacon,[164]who did not find Aristotle’s maxim sufficient, tries to complete it by a few additional ones:
1. One should beware of beginning with too difficult tasks, and should proportion them to his strength—in a word,proceed by degrees. For example, he who wishes to correct himself of his laziness, should not at once impose too great a work upon himself, but he should every day work a little longer than the day before, until the habit is formed.
In order to render these exercises less painful, it is permitted to employ some auxiliary means, like some one learningto swim will use bladders or willow supports. After a little while the difficulties will be purposely increased, like dancers who, to acquire agility, practice at first with very heavy shoes.
“There is to be observed,” adds Bacon, “that there are certain vices (and drunkenness is one of them) where it is dangerous to proceed by degrees only, and where it is better to cut short at once and in an absolute manner.
2. The second maxim, where the question is of acquiring a new virtue, is to choose for it two different opportunities: the first when one feels best disposed toward the kind of actions he may have in view; the second, when as ill disposed as possible, so as to take advantage of the first opportunity to make considerable headway, and of the second, to exercise the energy of the will. This second rule is an excellent one, and truly efficacious.
3. A third rule is, when one has conquered, or thinks he has conquered, his temperament, not to trust it too much. It were well to remember here the old maxim: “Drive away temperament,” etc., and remember Æsop’s cat, which, metamorphosed into a woman, behaved very well at table until it espied a mouse.
Leibnitz also gives us some good advice as to practical prudence, to teach us to triumph over ourselves, and expounds in his own way the same ideas as Bossuet and Bacon:
“When a man is in a good state of mind he should lay down for himself laws and rules for the future, and strictly adhere to them; he should, according to the nature of the thing, either suddenly or gradually turn his back upon all occasions liable to degrade him. A journey undertaken on purpose by a lover will cure him of his love; a sudden retreat will relieve us of bad company. Francis Borgia, general of the Jesuits, who was finally canonized, being accustomed to drink freely whilst yet a man of the world, when he began to withdraw from it gradually reduced hisallowance to the smallest amount by dropping every day a piece of wax into the bowl he was in the habit of emptying.To dangerous likingsone must oppose more innocent likings, such as agriculture, gardening, etc.; one must shun idleness; make collections of natural history or art objects; engage in scientific experiments and investigations; one must make himself some indispensable occupation, or, in default of such, engage in useful or agreeable conversation or reading. In a word, one should take advantage of all good impulses toward forming strong resolutions, as if they were the voice of God calling us.[165]
181. Franklin’s Almanac.—To these maxims concerning the formation and perfecting of character, may fittingly be added the moral method which Benjamin Franklin adopted for his own improvement in virtue. He had made a list of the qualities which he wished to acquire and develop within himself, and had reduced them to thirteen principal ones. This classification, which has no scientific value, appeared to him entirely sufficient for the end he had in view. These thirteen virtues are the following: temperance, silence, order, resolution, frugality, industry, sincerity, justice, moderation, cleanliness, tranquillity, chastity, humility.
This catalogue, once drawn up, Franklin, reflecting that it would be difficult to fight at the same time thirteen defects and keep his mind on thirteen virtues, had an idea similar to that of Horatius in his combat with the Curiatii: he resolved to fight his enemies one by one; he applied to morality the well-known principle of politicians: “Divide if thou wilt rule.”
“I made a little book,” he says, “in which I allotted a page for each of the virtues. I ruled each page with red ink, so as to have seven columns, one for each day of the week, marking each column with a letter for the day. I crossed these columns with thirteen red lines, marking the beginning of each line with the first letter of one of the virtues; on whichline, and in its proper column, I might mark, by a little black spot, every fault I found upon examination to have been committed respecting that virtue upon that day.
“I determined to give a week’s strict attention to each of the virtues successively. Thus, in the first week, my great guard was to avoid even the least offense againsttemperance; leaving the other virtues to their ordinary chance, only marking every evening the faults of the day. Thus, if in the first week I could keep my first line, marked T, clear of spots, I supposed the habit of that virtue so much strengthened, and its opposite weakened, that I might venture extending my attention to include the next, and for the following week keep both lines clear of spots. Proceeding thus to the last, I could get through a course complete in thirteen weeks, and four courses in a year. And, like him, who, having a garden to weed, does not attempt to eradicate all the bad herbs at once, which would exceed his reach and his strength, but works on one of the beds at a time, and, having accomplished the first, proceeds to a second; so I should have, I hoped, the encouraging pleasure of seeing on my pages the progress made in virtue, by clearing successively my lines of their spots; till, in the end, by a number of courses, I should be happy in viewing a clean book, after a thirteen weeks’ daily examination.”
182. Maxim of Epictetus.—The wise Epictetus gives us the same advice as Franklin: “If you would not be of an angry temper,” he says, “then do not feed the habit. Be quiet at first, then count the days where you have not been angry. You will say: ‘I used to be angry every day; now every other day; then every third or fourth day, and if you miss it so long as thirty days, offer a sacrifice to God.”[166]He said, moreover: “If you will practice self-control, take, when it is warm and you are thirsty, a mouthful of fresh water, and spit it out again, and tell no one.”
183. Individual character—Cicero’s maxims.—Thephilosophers whom we have just cited give us rules to combat and correct our temperament when it is vicious. Cicero, on the contrary, gives us others to maintain our individual character and remain true to it; and these rules are no less useful than the others. He justly observes that every man has his own inclinations which constitute his individual and original character. “Some,” he says, “are more agile in the foot-race; others stronger at wrestling; these are more noble, those more graceful; Scaurus and Drusus were singularly grave; Lælius, very merry; Socrates was playful and amusing in conversation. Some are simple-minded and frank, others, like Hannibal and Fabius, more crafty. In short, there is an infinite variety of manners and differences of character without their being for that blamable.”[167]
Now, this is a very sensible principle of Cicero, that we ought not to go against the inclinations of our nature when they are not vicious:
“In constraining our talentsWe do nothing gracefully,”
said the fabulist. “Let each of us then know his own disposition, and be to himself a severe judge concerning his own defects and qualities. Let us do as the players who do not always choose the finest parts, but those best suited to their talent. Æsopus[168]did not often play the part of Ajax.” Cicero in this precept, “that every one should remain true to his individual character,” goes so far as to justify Cato’s suicide, for the reason that it accorded with his character. “Others,” he says, “might be guilty in committing suicide; but in the case of Cato, he was right; it was a duty; Cato ought to have died.”[169]This is carrying the rights and duties of the individual character somewhat far; but it is certain that, aside from the great general duties of humanity, which are the same for all men, each individual man has a rôle toplay on earth, and this rôle is in part determined by our natural dispositions; now, we should yield to these dispositions, when they are not vicious, and should develop them.
184. Self-examination.—Finally, what is especially important, considered from a practical standpoint and in the light of moral discipline, is, that each one should render himself an exact account of his own disposition, his defects, oddities, vices, so that he be able to correct them. Such was the practical sense of that celebrated maxim formerly inscribed over the temple at Delphi: “Know thyself.” This is Socrates’ own interpretation of it in his conversations with his disciples: “Tell me, Euthydemus, have you ever gone to Delphi?”—“Yes, twice.”—“And did you observe what is written somewhere on the temple-wall: Know Thyself?”—“I did.”—“Think you that to know one’s self it is enough to know one’s own name? Is there nothing more needed? And as those who buy horses do not think they know the animal they wish to buy till they have examined it and discovered whether it is obedient or restive, vigorous or weak, swift or slow, etc., must we not likewise know ourselves to judge what we are really worth?”—“Certainly.”—“It is then obvious that this knowledge of himself is to man a source of much good, whilst being in error about himself exposes him to a thousand evils. Those who know themselves well, know what is useful to them, discern what they can or cannot do; now, in doing what they are capable of doing, they procure the necessaries of life and are happy. Those who, on the contrary, do not know themselves, fail in all their enterprises, and fall into contempt and dishonor.”[170]
185. Examination of the conscience.—To know one’s self well, it is necessary to examine one’s self. Hence a practice often recommended by moralists, and particularly Christian moralists, known also by the ancients, namely, theexamination of the conscience.
There is a fine picture of it in Seneca’s writings: “Weshould,” says the philosopher, “call, every day, our conscience to account. Thus did Sextius; when his daily work was done, he questioned his soul: Of what defect hast thou cured thyself to-day? What passion hast thou combated? In what hast thou become better? What more beautiful than this habit of going thus over the whole day!... I do the same, and being my own judge, I call myself before my own tribunal. When the light has been carried away from my room, I begin an inquest of the whole day; I examine all my actions and words. I conceal nothing, allow myself nothing. And why should I hesitate to look at any of my faults when I can say to myself: Take care not to do so again: for to-day I forgive thee?”[171]
To designate all the practices which experience of life has suggested to the moralists, to induce men to better, correct, perfect themselves in right doing, would be an endless task. No better method in this respect than to read the Christian moralists: Bossuet, Fénélon, Nicole, Bourdaloue. The advice they give concerning the proper use of time, opportunities, temptations, false shame, loose conversations, perseverance, can be applied to morals as well as to religion. Reading, meditation, proper company, good advice, selection of some great model to follow, etc., are the principal means we should employ to perfect ourselves in the right: “If we extirpated and uprooted, every year, a single vice only, we should soon become perfect men.”[172]
186. Kant’s Catechism.—An excellent practice in moral education is what Kant calls a moral catechism, in which the master, under the form of questions and answers, sums up the principles of morality. The pupil learns thereby to account for ideas of which he is but vaguely conscious, and which he often confounds with principles of another order, with theinstinct of happiness, for example, or the consideration of self-interest.
The following are some extracts from Kant’sMoral Catechism.[173]
Teacher.—What is thy greatest and even thy only wish on earth?
The pupil remains silent.[174]
Teacher.—Is it not always to succeed in everything according to thy wishes and will? How do we call such a state?
The pupil remains silent.
Teacher.—We call ithappiness(namely, constant prosperity, a life all satisfaction, and to be absolutely content with one’s condition). Now, if thou hadst in thy hands all possible earthly happiness, wouldst thou keep it wholly to thyself, or share it with thy fellow-beings?
Pupil.—I should share it with them; I should make others happy and contented also.
Teacher.—This already shows that thou hast a goodheart. Let us see now if thou hast also a goodjudgment. Wouldst thou give to the idler soft cushions; to the drunkard wine in abundance, and all else that will produce drunkenness; to the rogue agreeable manners and a fine presence, that he might the more easily deceive; to the violent man, audacity and a strong fist?
Pupil.—Certainly not.
Teacher.—Thou seest then that if thou heldst all happiness in thy hands, thou wouldst not, without reflection, distribute it to each as he desires; but thou wouldst ask thyself how far he isworthyof it. Would it not also occur to thee to ask thyself whether thou art thyself worthy of happiness?
Pupil.—Undoubtedly.
Teacher.—Well, then, that which in thee inclines to happiness, is calledinclination; that which judges that the first condition to enjoy happiness is to be worthy of it, is thereason; and the faculty thou hast to overcome thy inclination by thy reason, isliberty. For example, if thou couldst without injuring any one procure to thyself or to one of thy friends a great advantage by means of an adroit falsehood, what says thy reason?
Pupil.—That I must not lie, whatever great advantage may result from it to me or to my friend. Falsehood isdegrading, and renders manunworthyof being happy. There is in this case absolute necessity imposed on me by a command or prohibition of my reason, and which should silence all my inclinations.
Teacher.—What do we call this necessity of acting conformably to the law of reason?
Pupil.—We call itduty.
Teacher.—Thus is the observance of our duty the general condition on which we can alone be worthy of happiness.To be worthy of happiness and to do one’s duty is one and the same thing.
THE UNION OF CLASSES.
A subject which has attracted much attention, and which is often referred to in conversation, in books, in political assemblies, is the variousclassesof society; there are upper and lower classes, and between these two, a middle class. We speak of laboring classes, poor classes, rich classes. These are expressions which it were desirable should disappear. They relate to ancient customs, ancient facts, and in the present state of society correspond no longer to situations now all clearly defined. They are vestiges which last long after the facts to which they corresponded have disappeared, and which retained are often followed by grave consequences. They give rise to misunderstanding, false ideas, sentiments more or less blameworthy. I should like to show that in the present state of society, there are no longer any classes, that there are only men, individuals. The wordclasses, in a strict sense, can be applied only to a state of society where social and natural advantages are conferred by the law to certain men at the expense of others; where some can procure these advantages whilst others never can; where the public burden weighs on a certain class, on a certain number of men, whilst the others are entirely free from it, and this, I repeat, by the sanction of law, and by social organization.
This state of things has existed, with more or less differences and notably great changes, in all past centuries. Its lowest degree is, for example, that where it is impossible for certain men to procure to themselves the goods desired by all, where they can never own any kind of property, however small, where they are themselves considered property; where, instead of being allowed to sell and buy, they are themselves sold and bought, themselves reduced to an object of commerce. This state is that calledslavery.
Slavery, in its strict sense, is the state where man is the property ofother men, is a thing; where he is bought and sold, and where his work does not belong to him, but to his master.
This state of things existed through all antiquity. Society, with the ancients, was divided into two greatclasses(the term is here perfectly in its place), classes very unequal in numbers, where the more numerous were the property of the least numerous. The citizens, as they were called, or freemen, who constituted a part of the State, the Republic, had no need of working to make a living, because they owned living instruments of work—men.
This state of things, you well know, did not only exist in antiquity; it was perpetuated till our days, and it is not very long since it still existed in some of the greatest societies of the world. We may consider it at present as wholly done away with.
A notch higher, we find the state calledserfdom, where man is not wholly interdicted to own property, and where he is allowed a family, which fact constitutes the superiority of serfdom over slavery. It is obvious that in a state of slavery, there can be no family: a man, the property of another, liable to be bought and sold, can have no family. Serfdom, which in the Middle Ages existed in all European societies, and but recently was abolished in Russia, allowed the individual a family, and in a certain measure even the right of property; but he was a part of the land on which he was born, and, like that land, belonged to a master, alord.
The serf then was, as it is commonly called, attached to theglebe, to the land, unable to leave it, unable to buy or sell except under extremely restricted conditions, and thus a part of the soil on which he was born, he belonged with that soil to his lord. This state of things was gradually bettered. The serfs, little by little, acquired by their work a small capital; they succeeded in buying their liberty from their lords. It is this which gave rise to that ancient society, calledancien régime, which preceded the French Revolution. But all men were not serfs; things had not reached that point; serfdom had already been abolished by means of certain contracts, certain sums of money which the workingmen paid as a sign of their former thraldom. Yet was there still in force much that was iniquitous, forming what is called an aristocratic society, where, for example, some men had the exclusive right of holding and transmitting to their children territorial property, which they were not allowed to put in trade, the exclusive right of holding public functions, of having grades in the army, the right of hunting and fishing, etc. And conversely, on the other hand, whilst the minority enjoyed so exclusively all these privileges, the costs of society rested on the greater number, and these costs the serfs were obliged to pay. Hence a society in which there were classes, since the law conferredsocial advantages on some in preference to others, and heavy burdens resting on some without resting on others.
As it is not my purpose to write here the history of modern society, I need not enter into all the details of these facts, which are, besides, quite well known.
You all know that these great social injustices and iniquitous practices disappeared at the time of the Revolution, and that the principal object of the French Revolution of 1789 was precisely to suppress all these privileges conceded to some, and these burdens unequally imposed on others. From that moment, there was equality in law, that is to say, that all men belonging to our present society are allowed to accumulate property, exercise public functions, rise to higher grades—in a word, are considered fit to obtain all the advantages which society has to offer, and which nature allows them to desire and acquire.
Since 1789, society, as a matter of course, has continued to move in the same grooves, and, thanks to work and competition, all that which still existed by way of social inequalities has gradually disappeared; if, by chance, there still remain in our laws such vestiges of former inequality, they will in time, and with the help of all enlightened men, disappear; for it is now a truth fully recognized that the good of humanity demands that at least all legal inequalities should be done away with, and that all men, without distinction, should be allowed to acquire any advantages which their special faculties, and the conditions wherein they are placed, enable them to acquire. I say, then, that this being the case, there is no reason why, in the present state of society, men should any longer be designated by classes. They are men, and men alone, and as such they should be allowed to enjoy common advantages, to live by their work—namely, to constitute themselves into families, to cultivate their intelligence, to worship God according to their conscience—in a word, to enjoy all the rights we call the rights of a man and citizen.
But when in a society all legal inequalities have been suppressed, does it necessarily follow that an absolute equality will be the final result? No. Society can only do away with inequalities of its own making; inequalities which, from causes we have not time here to set forth, were added to the already existing natural inequalities. For there are natural inequalities; inequalities which may be called individual inequalities, there being no two persons in the world exactly the same. From this fact alone—men being in a thousand ways different from each other—it necessarily follows that each man’s condition is different from that of his fellow-men. Hence an infinite multitude of inequalities which have always existed and always will exist, because they result from the nature of things; and such inequalities must be clearly distinguished from those dependent on the law.
What now are the principal causes of these inequalities, which I call individual inequalities? They are of two kinds: the inherent faculties of the individual, and the circumstances wherein he is placed.
The faculties of the individual are the work of nature: they spring from his moral and physical organization; and, as I have said above, there being no two men exactly alike, either physically or morally, it naturally follows that there are differences, and these differences bring with them inequalities. Let us, for instance, take the most important of all these differences, namely, physical strength, health. Man is a living being, an organized being, and his organization is subject to the most delicate, most numerous, most complicated conditions. Hence many differences. Some are born strong, robust, able to brave all kinds of temperatures, all sorts of trials—trials of work, of outside events, sometimes the trials of their own excesses even.
Others, on the contrary, are born with a feeble constitution; they are weak, delicate, they cannot bear trials the same as the others.
This is a first difference, and this difference, you well know, may be subdivided into a multitude of others; for there are no two individuals equally healthy, equally strong. What will be the natural result? This, for example: that where strength is required (and every one needs more or less physical strength to accomplish certain heavy works), the strongest will have the advantage over the others; and, after a certain time, of two men who started at the same time, under the same conditions, with equal moral advantages, one, owing to his physical strength, shall have accomplished a great deal, and the other less; one shall have earned much, the other little: their career is unequal.
But it is not always the greater physical strength and health which determine in man his capacity for work; and it is a notable fact, and a matter upon which it is well to insist, namely, that all differences are compensated for, balance themselves, so to say; that such a one, for example, who, in some respect and from a certain point of view, may be inferior to another, may from another standpoint be superior to him; which, again, is as much as to say that there are no classes in society; for if the one who in one respect is inferior to his fellow-man, is in another superior to him, they are equals.
In the class called the laboring class, for example, we see every day that it is not always the strongest and the healthiest that produce the largest amount of work; and love of work is a notable factor in this scale of physical strength, making the balance pretty even. For some delicate men are industrious, whilst others who are stronger are not; some have a natural liking for their work, whilst others again have not. Hence a difference in the character of their work, and, consequently, in the remuneration of it.
A third difference is that of theintelligence. All men have received from nature a special gift which distinguishes them from the animals, and which we call intelligence; but they have not received it all to the same degree. Not all men have the same intellectual faculties, and every one knows how great an element of success intelligence is in all functions, in all departments of human activity, even in those requiring above all physical strength and the use of the hands. It is well known that even the latter find in intelligence their best auxiliary; that it procures them an invaluable advantage, even over those whose physical strength, facility, ardor, tenacity in work, would seem to forestall all rivalry.
There is finally a fourth element which is also inherent in the individual man, and which distinguishes one man from the other, and this ismorality. We all know that morality, independently of its own merit, its incomparable, intrinsic merit, a merit which cannot be estimated by its fruits, is of itself alone one of the greatest factors in bringing about important results in practical life. We all know that even setting aside the intrinsic worth of morality—honesty, virtue—the work resulting from our physical efforts is greatly enhanced by this precious element. We all know that economy, sobriety, a spirit of peace and concord, devotion to the family—in short, all moral elements—give to him who exercises them a vast superiority over his fellows who do not, despite his intellectual and physical disadvantages.
When I say that morality is an element of inequality, I wish to be understood rightly. There are, it is true, moral inequalities among men; and from these moral inequalities spring others; but morality is not in itself a principle of inequality, for what precisely constitutes morality, is that all men can equally attain to it; that it wholly depends on the individual man to attain to it or not. So that if, on this point, a man finds himself inferior to another, he can blame no one for it but himself.
Here, then, is a point where the law is of no avail; where it is evident that man is the master of his actions, and gains for himself what morality he wishes; if, then, there results from this a certain inequality among men, this inequality is to be attributed to the free-will of the individual man, who did not profit by the admirable gift Providence has endowed him with—namely, moral liberty—and by means of which he can choose between the right and the wrong.
You see, then, that there are many causes differentiating men from each other, and in such a manner that it is impossible to define them strictly. We cannot say: there are on the one hand the strong, and on the other the weak; on the one the intelligent, on the other the feeble-minded, because all these elements so combine as to compensate for oneanother. Once more, he who is least favored in one direction, may be better favored in another; he who has an inferior share of intelligence and physical strength, may be the first in will-power. We can thus always fill out natural inequalities, and correct and overcome them by an effort of the will.
Still, however that may be, and despite all effort of individual will-power and moral energy, there unquestionably result from these individual differences a multitude of different conditions among men. Besides, and independently of these purely inward causes due to both the physical and moral constitution of the individual man, there are yet outward causes of inequality. These are the circumstances, the conditions wherein we are born and live.
We are all more or less dependent on the physical and social conditions which surround us. It is quite certain that birth, for example, is a circumstance wholly independent of the will of man. Some are born in the most favorable, some in the least favorable social conditions—some rich, some poor; facts which depend neither on their constitution nor on their will. There are, moreover, still other outward circumstances. One may be born in a rich, a civilized, an enlightened, a progressive country, or in a poor, barbarous, benighted country. One may live in a place where there is every means of education, of making a living, of improving one’s self, where there may be a thousand favorable openings for a man, and again, on the contrary, in a place far away from all civilization, without opportunities for work, without enlightenment, without means of communication with other men. All such circumstances are independent of the will of the individual man, and can only be corrected in time and through the progress of civilization, which gradually equalizes all countries.
There are yet, besides all this, what is generally called the happy and unhappy chances of life. Everybody knows that human events do not always run as one would wish them, that things turn out more or less fortunately, as circumstances, and not men, order them. One may, for instance, get sick, when he has most need of health; a wife loses her husband, the support of her family, when she has most need of him; one may engage in an enterprise apparently founded on the best conditions of success: this enterprise fails on account of unexpected events, and without its being any one’s fault. In commerce, for instance, we see every day the most unfortunate consequences of outward circumstances, against which one is utterly helpless, because, in commerce especially, there is a large share to be left to chance, to the unknown, which no one can calculate beforehand. Now, all such unexpected events, as they are realized, overthrow all our plans, and are cause that some attain to wealth, and others fall into poverty. Farmers particularly know buttoo well how dependent they are on outward circumstances. Cold, heat, rain, are for them elements of fortune or misery, and they are elements over which they have no control whatsoever.
Now these elements, working blindly, as it would seem, are the chief cause of the great diversity of human conditions. Some, it is said, are lucky; others are not; some meet with favorable circumstances, others with contrary and fatal circumstances. Everything seems to co-operate toward crushing some, whilst everything again favors the success of others. These causes are innumerable, and could be multipliedad infinitum; they explain the infinite variety of human conditions, how there are none exactly similar, and how there are consequently no two men exactly alike.
They are equals as men, in the sense that they have the same rights to justice, to truth; the same rights of conscience; but they are not equals as to their circumstances, which circumstances, as we have seen, vary in every respect. But, it may be asked, why all these inequalities? Why are some happy and others unhappy? Why some rich, fortunate, powerful, intelligent, virtuous even? (for it would almost seem that up to a certain point, virtue also depends on social position, since those who are born in a more elevated condition have greater facilities to exercise virtue); why are others, on the contrary, unfortunate, obliged to work so hard to arrive at such poor results; to be scarcely able to make a living for themselves or their family? Certainly these are indeed most grave and serious questions. But, what I contend for is, that it is not to society we should put these questions, but to Providence, who has made life what it is. Society can do but one thing, namely, not to add to natural inequalities, social ones. It can also, to a certain degree, lessen the natural inequalities; but it is not wholly responsible for man’s moral and physical constitution; it is not wholly responsible for the course of events in the world; so that if we would know why things are thus fashioned, we must rise higher; we must not make our fellow-men or society in general answerable for them. I only add that, as legal inequalities disappear, so will the natural inequalities also vanish, and this is the essential point. Natural inequalities cannot be wholly corrected, for the reasons above stated; but as society, in doing away with legal inequalities, strives to lessen the share of responsibility it has heretofore had in these inequalities, the natural inequalities must necessarily grow less, and for the simple reason that avenues being opened to man to enjoy the fruit of his labor, and acquire the rights society holds now out to him, he will be able to fill out these natural inequalities. The inequality of intelligence was largely due to want of culture. As soon as men shall be educated, enlightened, shall themselves endeavor to learn, the differences in human intelligence will gradually disappear; for it has been observedthat as civilization progresses, the number of great men diminishes, and what was formerly called genius, is lost in the larger development of society. This may be only an illusion, for genius never changes; only as the existing differences among men become lessened, the inequalities which separated the great men from the rest are less obvious.
Thus, the more you shall put into the hands of men, and if possible of all men, means for educating themselves, the more you will find these differences vanish; the more will they grow like each other, the more will human intelligence become equalized.
On the other hand, as social and legal inequalities disappear, public prosperity, public wealth, public comforts, will increase at the same rate. As the physical strength of men develops, so will the means of combating infirmities, diseases, all that weakened, enervated, depraved the populations, develop also. As the moral differences diminish (not indeed in the sense that every one will reach the same degree of virtue—that is impossible), the rudeness, the brutality, certain odious vices due to ignorance, to barbarous manners, to the insufficient means of communication with each other, will gradually disappear; and thus, in respect to civilization also, will men grow more like each other.
You see, then, that by culture, by the progress of civilization, all these inequalities due to outward circumstances, may be combated. Society at the present time, being more ingenious, more enlightened, more clever than in past days, has at its command a multitude of means wherewith, if not to destroy, at least to reduce the ill effects of outward chances. That, for example, which we calllife-insurance, is very effective indeed in combating misfortune. By means of a small sacrifice, every man may in some respect protect himself against chances which formerly reduced a large part of the population to misery. It is the same with other similar societies of mutual assistance and benefit; they will increase in proportion to general progress, and will largely counteract the unhappy results of such inequalities as may be combated by human industry.
I go still further; I maintain that the inequalities above noted not only should not be imputed to society, but not even to Providence. They are legitimate and useful; they are the necessary stimulant to work. It is because of that very great variety of conditions that men make the proper efforts to better them, and that by these efforts, by this common labor, society progresses.
Why does every one work? Is it not that each sees above him a position he covets, and which he seeks to secure? It is not the first of positions, nor the highest, for man does not think of those too far above him, nor should he; but the next best, such as others like him occupy, he can attain. If he earns a little money only, he tries to earn more; if he is only a workman, he may become a foreman; if only aforeman, a master; if only a master, a capitalist. He who is but a third clerk will want to be second clerk; he who is second will want to be first; and thus through the whole series of degrees. Now, it is just the possibility of securing a better situation than the one we are in that stimulates us to work and make the necessary efforts. Suppose (a thing, of course, impossible) that all men could be assured of a sufficient quantity of daily bread equally distributed among them, human activity would at once come to a stop, human work would cease; society would consequently become impoverished, and, becoming impoverished, even the small portion each one is satisfied with could no longer be possible, and they would have to fall back upon work again. Work requires a stimulant, and it is the inequality of human conditions which furnishes this stimulant.
Societies are like individuals. Every society has always before its eyes a condition better than the one it is in, a state of greater material prosperity, of greater intellectual development; and it is because we long to reach that superior state that society strives after improvement. There are, indeed, societies that are indifferent to this; that do not experience such a want; but such peoples remain stagnant in their barbarous ignorance; they never advance. It is the civilized nations who are not satisfied with their condition, and where every one endeavors to better his own. We should, therefore, look upon the inequalities which favor individual development, which assist the progress of the race, which excite every man to make an effort to better his condition, as truly desirable.
I have demonstrated how the great legal inequalities which, before the French Revolution, authorized the division of society into classes, have now disappeared, and that what remains, and must of necessity remain, are the natural inequalities resting, on the one hand, on individual faculties, and on the other, on the diversity and the inequality of the conditions wherein we are placed. Let us now see whether in these conditions there is something requiring society to be divided into parts:—some people above, some below, some in the middle, and whether each of these parts should be called a class. I look in vain for anything whereon such distinctions could be based. Let us take the most natural fact which could serve as a basis for such distinctions—namely, fortune, wealth.
It is said: there are the rich and the poor. But what more vague than such terms? Where does poverty stop? Undoubtedly, there are wretched people in all societies. There is no society wholly free of poor unfortunates, so unfortunate as to require the assistance of others. It is what we call beggary, and it exists in all societies. But this is not an element which may be said to constitute a class. It is not any morecorrect to say the class of beggars than the class of invalids. There are invalids in all societies, and we are all subject to becoming invalids, but we cannot say that there is a class of invalids. Those who are ill are to be pitied, but they do not, I repeat, constitute a class, which would allow us to divide society into two parts: a class of people that are well and people that are sick. The same with beggary; it is an anomaly, an unfortunate exception to the rule, and very sad for those who are its victims, but it does not constitute a class. Yet it is not this we generally understand by the poor and the rich classes. We understand by rich those who have a certain appearance of well-being; and by poor those who work more or less with their hands. Now, there is nothing more false than such a distinction, for, among those called rich, there are many that are poor, and wealth and poverty are not generally absolutely different. It depends on the relations between the wants and the means of satisfying them.
How many among physicians, lawyers, artists, for example—among men who belong to what we call the middle class—are, I ask, not only poor, but wretched? How are we to know them? What is it marks in society the rich and the poor? Here we have, for instance, country people, good folks, who have never opened a book, who do not know A from B, and who are rich; and again others of the middle class who are poor. The conditions in society so intertwine that it is impossible to cut it in two and say: these are the rich classes, these the poor. There is an infinite variety of degrees, each having some sort of property, the one more, the other less. In such a number of degrees it is impossible to distinguish precisely the beginning or the end. We admit these individual inequalities, and as many different conditions as there are individuals; but there are no classes, and no one could tell their beginnings and ends. How could you determine the amount of property requisite to belong to either of these categories—the rich or the poor? Shall you say that the rich man is he who has any capital, and the poor, he who has not any? There are many people with capital that are poor, and many without who are very well off. These are but arbitrary distinctions.
Upon what, then, shall we base class differences? On the professions? On those who exercise public functions and those who do not? But this would, in the first place, be a very unequal division; for the number of public functionaries is very small in comparison with the immense mass of people who have no public profession. And again, wherein is the public functionary superior to this or that merchant, this or that big farmer, this or that great builder or contractor? It is impossible to say; for in the hierarchy of functionaries there is also a top, a middle, a bottom, with an infinite variety of degrees in each.
Take the nobility. But who in these days troubles himself about aristocratic names? They are, unquestionably, valuablesouvenirsfor those who can boast of them—of great historical names, for instance; names which have played a part in history; they are grand recollections to cherish and respect, but they give him who possesses them but very feeble advantages. It is not very long since there might have been found some legitimate ground for the class distinctions we are examining, namely, in political rights, at a time when some few enjoyed political rights and a great many had none; but this time has gone by, this inequality is also wiped out; there are no more political classes than there are social classes.
Shall we take material work—work of hand, as a class distinction among men? We hear often the termlaboring classes—men, namely, who live by work of hand; but are not those who work with their brains, workers also? There are a thousand kinds of work, and it is not absolutely necessary one should work with his hands to be a worker. Besides, there are many people working with their hands, who do not belong to what is usually understood by the laboring class: the painters, sculptors, chemists, surgeons; all these people work with their hands. You see, then, that, look at it as you will, it will be very difficult to find distinctive signs whereby society could be divided into classes.
There are groups of workers; groups formed by the variety of work which has to be done. Everybody cannot do the same thing in society. Political economy teaches a very true and necessary law, called division of labor. In order that a certain piece of work be well done, its different parts must be distributed among those who are capable of executing them; and the more each one will exclusively attend to the portion allotted to him, the better will the work be done.
It is the same with society. Society is a great work-shop, a vast factory, where there are a great many different kinds of work to be done. Each must do his share. Hence various groups of workers. Some cultivate the land, because men must be fed; some engage in industrial pursuits, for men must be clothed, must be housed against the inclemencies of the weather; then there is justice to be rendered; there are some needed to protect the laborers; men must also be educated and need educators. There are roads to be made, railroads to be laid, laws to be enforced, and all this gives rise to a multitude of functions, a large number of groups of workers, each working in the line which has been determined, more or less, by birth, circumstances, or natural ability. Shall we still say that each of these groups forms a class? Shall it be the military class, because it is composed of soldiers; the class of ecclesiastics, because composed of priests; the teaching class, becausecomposed of teachers? In no wise. Then should we neither speak of the laboring classes—of the middle classes.
There is, I repeat, but one society, and that society composed of an infinite number of individuals; all differing from each other by reason of their various natural endowments and the outward conditions in which they are placed. They are subdivided into groups which more or less blend with each other, are more or less dependent on each other.
There is, however, a sign whereby men may be distinguished from each other, and that is education: difference in instruction and culture; and this is in these days the only kind of difference that can still exist among them.
How is this to be remedied? In two ways: in observing the duties of society and the duties of individuals. Society at this present moment is doing all in its power to bring education within the reach of all, and according to the particular need of each. Of course all are not obliged to learn the same things. Even among the most enlightened, there are some who, relatively to others, are quite ignorant. So that there are degrees here also. But still there is a certain common ground of customary, useful, necessary knowledge, which brings all together:—the education common to all, and which is as a bond between them. Society is doing its best in extending this education, propagating it, developing it; and men should do their best toward it. It depends, therefore, on the individual man to do away with this last inequality. It behooves us, then, to disseminate education and instruction, as far as it lies in our power; and it behooves those who have not yet enjoyed it to make every effort to improve themselves.
Finally, connected with education, there is a feature which also establishes a certain difference between men: good manners; good habits; good morals; all of which are distinguishing, differentiating, traits. On whom is it incumbent to do away with such inequalities? On us all. Each of us, in his own individual sphere of life, must break down the barrier that separates him from the one above him; he must rise up to him, not so much through morality, for morality is the same below as above, but through his manners, his habits, his dignity, sobriety, politeness, he must win his esteem.
This is accomplished rather through education than instruction, for it is education that makes men good-natured, so that it will be through education that the last inequality between men will be effaced.
I say, then, that we should as much as possible work toward this end, and above all avoid using expressions which tend to separate men from each other. These expressions belong to a past age; they were perpetuated by usage, and still uphold certain imaginary rights, and modes of thinking—certain prejudices and sentiments which divide society intotwo parts, and cause it to believe that it is so divided from necessity. In indulging in such prejudices, what in fact is but an imaginary division becomes a real one.
It is, therefore, this imaginary division of classes which must be done away with; for it is from the imagination that all these feelings of distrust, and jealousy, and ill-will generally spring; and they should be combated resolutely, for they carry with them very lamentable consequences. The remedy is where the evil is. These old prejudices residing in the imagination, it is the imagination we should correct. We must accustom ourselves to think differently; we must look upon ourselves not as belonging to a particular class, but to one and the same society, a society of men, men all equals and in different social conditions, all entitled to the same rights.
It is, therefore, in reciprocal good feeling, in the heart of men rather than in any legal reform, that the true safety of society resides. We must give up those old notions which cause some to imagine that they are oppressed, or threatened, or prevented to rise in the social scale, and others, that they run the danger of being dispossessed of their privileges. There is in such antagonism far greater danger than in the actual evils both sides complain of.
To do away with it only requires reciprocal good-will, kindness, readiness to understand each other. The reform which has taken place in our laws, must take place in our minds also. Class feeling must be suppressed, and there will then appear a truly human society, all being united by brotherly love.
Footnotes:
[1]No. CLIX.—July 1, 1884, pp. 246, 247.
[2]The fifth collegiate year will be devoted to theoretical morality.
[3]The word enthusiasm comes from a Greek word signifying, to be filled with a god.
[4]Drive away nature, and it gallops back again. Lafontaine has said the same thing: “Shut the door against its nose, and it will return by the window.”
[5]J. J. Rousseau,Emile.
[6]Kant,Doctrine de la vertu. French translation of J. Barni, p. 171.
[7]Kant is wrong in rejecting these two maxims, interpreting them in the sense we have just refuted.
[8]Chapter I.,page 22.
[9]It would seem here that negative gratitude becomes confounded with negative ingratitude; the one doing no harm, the other doing no good; it would seem as one and the same condition, wherein neither harm nor good is done; but the distinction exists nevertheless; for the question, on the one hand, is to do no harm when tempted to do some, and on the other, not to do any good when there is an occasion for it. For example, he who despoils others, but abstains before his benefactor, experiences a certain degree of gratitude, and he who does good to his friends and flatterers around him, and does not do any to his benefactor, is already ungrateful.
[10]These questions will be examined more in detail in the next chapter.
[11]See chapter IV.
[12]Lawyers make a distinction betweenpossessionandproperty. The first consists simply in having the object in use; the second, in enjoying its exclusive use, even if the object were not naturally in one’s hands.
[13]Victor Cousin,The True, the Beautiful, and the Good(lectures xxi. and xxii.).
[14]Which is to say that the acts are nothing if the heart is absent.
[15]St. Paul, 1 Cor., xiii., 1-7.
[16]In theProvincialesthis apostrophe is addressed to the Jesuits, whom Pascal accuses of loose maxims on the subject.
[17]Le Devoir.Part iv., Ch. iii.
[18]In Tuscany the penalty of death was abolished in the eighteenth century by the Grand Duke Leopold. It was again established with the Grand Duchy’s annexation to the Kingdom of Italy. In Switzerland, after being abolished by the Confederation, the penalty of death was finally left to be determined by each particular canton.
[19]It answers the frequent assertion that the courtesy and regards which men owe each other reciprocally, would soon disappear if they were not protected by the resource of the duel.
[20]Jules Simon,La Liberté, ii. part, ch. iii.
[21]Thus we see Saint Simonian ideas completely disappear from the modern socialistic sects which all tend to blend with the equality-communism pure and simple.
[22]On the question of property, see Thiers,La Propriété(1848) and theHarmonies économiques de Bastiat, ch. viii.
[23]See in theHarmonies économiquesviii., that ingenious and substantial theory which shows the growing progress of the community by reason of property.
[24]See especially about the question of interest, the controversy between Proudhon and Bastiat. (Works of Bastiat, vol. v.,Gratuity of Credit.)
[25]Mode of reckoning in the time of Louis XIV.
[26]The scene between father and son inThe Miser(Sc. ii., Act iii.).
[27]See, in Molière’sDon Juan, the charming scene between Don Juan and Mr. Dimanche.
[28]“Things lost cannot give rise to an action for theft, when the finder, after having looked for their proprietor in vain, and only retained them when his researches proved fruitless, has ascertained that the proprietor will not present himself. But if the thing has been taken with the intention of appropriating it, if it has an owner, although unknown, there is no doubt about the delinquency.” (Faustin-Hélie,Droit pénal, iv. edit., Leçon v., p. 66.)
[29]The play in Latin is on the wordsotiandiandnegotiandi.—Translator.
[30]De Officiis, Book III., ch. xiv.
[31]Definition of the canon law.
[32]Digest, II., § 3,De Furtis.
[33]Traité des obligations, Part I., ch. i., § 2.
[34]See Racine’s tragedy of Phèdre.
[35]Puffendorf,Of the Duties of Man and the Citizen, ii., c. ix., § 18.
[36]In the United States children can, in the case of neglect by their parents, make contracts which are obligatory for whatever is necessary for them.
[37]Our Code does not admit that a mistake touching the person, vitiates the consent of the contractors, unless this consideration be the principal cause of the agreement.
[38]Esprit des Lois, XV., iv. The stipulations which Montesquieu demanded have been made, and have led to the suppression, or at least to a great diminution, of the slave-trade.
[39]Bymaîtrisewas understood the rank or degree of master; andjurandeswas the name of an annual office by means of which the affairs of the corporation were administered: it also meant the assembly of workmen, who had lent the customary oath.
[40]Beaumarchais,Barbier de Seville.
[41]Nicole does not give any examples; but it is evident, for instance, that it is a graver fault to rashly incriminate theintegrityof a functionary than hisincapacity, thechastityof a woman than hereconomy.
[42]Nicole belonged to the sect of the Jansenists, celebrated for the harshness and rigidity of their morality.
[43]It is also calledcommutativejustice, somewhat improperly, in taking for its type the act of exchange, where one gives the equivalent of what he receives; but this expression is only truly correct when it touches upon property, and particularly upon sale, trust, loan. But the termcommutativehas no longer much meaning when applied to the respect due to the life, the liberty, or the honor of others. Nevertheless, it is necessary to be familiar with the expression, as it is usually opposed todistributivejustice.
[44]Nepotismis the custom of advancing to desirable posts the members of one’s family;simony(which has especially to do with the Church) consisted in the purchase of the ecclesiastical functions: the term may also, by extension, be applied to lay functions.
[45]We give on the next page an analysis of this Essay.
[46]Jouffret,De la politesse(A Lecture at the distribution of prizes at the Tournon Lyceum, Tournon. 1880).
[47]Lamennais,Paroles d’un Croyant, xv.
[48]Kant,Doctrine de la vertu, trad. Barni, p. 160.
[49]It is the question debated between Alceste and Philinte in the first scene of theMisanthrope.
[50]Kant,Doc. de la vertu, trad. de Barni, p. 155.
[51]See Puffendorf,Droits de la nature et des gens, III., ch. iii.
[52]See ourMorale, liv. II., ch. v.
[53]Abstinence from the flesh of animals was based by Pythagoras, as it was with the Brahmins, upon the doctrine of metempsychosis.
[54]The question is as to the acts themselves, and not their abuse.
[55]A philosopher of the school of Descartes, who, like his master, taught that animals are machines.
[56]Education progressive, VI., iv.
[57]Bulletin de la Société Protectrice des Animaux.June, 1868.
[58]Law of the 2d July, 1850, calledGrammont Law: “Shall be punishable by a fine of from five to fifteen francs, or from one to five days’ imprisonment, any one who shall publicly and abusively have maltreated domestic animals. In case of repetition of the offence, imprisonment.”
A society—Société Protectrice des Animaux—has been formed to come in aid to the law. The principal articles of its statutes are: “The aim of the society is to ameliorate, by all the means in its power, and conformably to the law of the 2d of July, 1850, the condition of animals. The society awards recompenses to any propagating its work and inventing proper means to the relief of animals; to the agents of the police, pointed out by their chiefs as having enforced the laws and regulations for the prevention of cruelty and ill-treatment towards animals;—to the agents of agriculture, shepherds, farm-help, farmers, leaders of cattle;—to coachmen, butcher-boys, smiths—in short, to any person who, in some high degree, shall have given proof of good treatment, intelligent and continued care and compassion toward animals.” See in itsBulletins, the useful results obtained by this interesting society.