Se seme isos Py rr ere TE z atatatactesecadu — Firgaas ri [SERRE] EE ERE Re EARN RTA PARA N ASAE SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD BY J LIONEL TAYLER, MRCS, L.R.C.P, London University Extension Lecturer on Biokgy and Sociology BOSTON SMALL, MAYNARD & COMPANY PUBLISHERS f 4 ¥ | / i PREFACE Turis short volume is not written as a text book on the Crowd Problem, still less as a history of that problem, but as a brief, suggestive and, it is hoped, serviceable introduction to a new prospect, or perhaps a much more extended vision in an old prospect, of a subject which is coming to be recognised as of increasing vital importance. I am indebted to several friends for kindly com- ments and suggestions on the text. The book has grown out of lectures given at the meeting of ‘“ The Women’s International League for Peace and Freedom ’’ held at Salzburg at their 1921 Summer School, with additional notes taken from earlier lectures on social subjects. LL.1T CONTENTS PAGE PREFACE . .: . « ‘aiii.iina iis PART 1} THE DECLINE OF RATIONALISM CHAP. 1. INTRODUCTORY. THE SITUATION . . i II. THE EMOTIONAL AND PASSIONAL POWERS BEHIND DEMOCRACIES AND ARIS- TOCRACIES : ‘ . : . 16 [iI. THE PEOPLE AND THE CROWD PROBLEM. THE DREAM OF AN EASY SOLUTION . 25 IV. PSEUDO-DEMOCRATIC FULFILMENT AND REACTION . , . . : Lina V. SOME EVIDENCE OF THE FAILURE OF MODERN PSEUDO - DEMOCRACIES. THE PRESS . A : 3 ; i AON VI. SOME EVIDENCE OF THE FAILURE OF MODERN PSEUDO - DEMOCRACIES. : THE READING PUBLIC . . . 51 VII. THE BREAKDOWN OF THE RATIONALISTIC DEMOCRATIC THEORY. WITH APPENDIX 62 PART 11 NEW THEORIES OF POPULAR GOVERNMENT VIII. THE NEW POLITICAL PERSPECTIVE OF ROUSSEAU, HEGEL AND GLADSTONE . 81 7 8 CONTENTS CHAP, PAGE 1X. ROUSSEAU’S GENERAL AND OTHER SOCIAL WILLS ' : ' . . 8g X. HEGEL'S “ REAL” AND INCIDENTAL WILLS 97 XI. GLADSTONE’S POLITICAL SUPRA-HUMANISM 110 XII. RESEMBLANCES AND DIFFERENCES OF OUTLOOK AND THE DEMAND FOR SCIENTIFIC STUDY TO SUPPORT THE NEW THEORIES . . . , «122 PART 111 THE NEW CROWD STUDY. ITS FOUNDATION IN FEELING, NOT REASON XIII. THE NEW CROWD STUDY. ITS TWO SCHOOLS ‘ . : 120 XIV. THE NEO - COMMUNISTS—WHO STRESS BASIC FEELINGS . ‘ . . 155 XV. MASS RETROGRESSION—A DANGER . . 107 XVI. THE CHECKING OF MASS RETROGRESSION 173 XVII. GREGARIOUS MOTIVES NOT ENOUGH FOR SOCIAL EVOLUTION . : : . 177 XVIII. THE NEO-INDIVIDUALISTS' SOCIAL SYN- THESIS AND ARISTO-DEMOCRACY . 183 XIX. THE SOCIAL ORIENTATION OF INDIVID- UAL DESIRE . i ; . 102 XX. SUMMARY OF CONCLUSIONS AND THE NEED FOR PERSONAL AND SOCIAL HUMAN IDEALS . . : . : 217 Ct = A 0D E = 7 = © m z 0 = ~ wm oT T CHAPTER 1 INTRODUCTORY. THE SITUATION AT a time when Democracy—which may be popularly defined as an optimistic belief in the capacity of any unfettered multitude to govern itself—is being triumphantly voiced by the popu- lace as the one and only principle of social pro- gress, it is not a little curious to observe how whenever and wherever the rule of this actual multitude takes place it tends to arouse in the real social student, and even in democratic leaders themselves who observe its groping, amceba-like activities, increasing terror and dismay. The older social students, and even politicians, took the people on trust, they asked no questions, they assumed qualities in human nature which were flagrantly at variance with the most obvious, frequent and fundamental facts of daily observa- tion. All living creatures have senses which they none the less use only along very limited paths, and men and women have eyes and see not, have ears and hear not, except in certain often unex- 11 12, :50CIAL- LIFE AND THE CROWD pected directions. "It takes a very little impartial experience to reveal that opinions, and often very dogmatic ones, are very seldom formed as a result of either observation or study, and such study as exists is almost always undertaken to confirm what are already interested and selfish motives. And a deeper study of the vagaries of fashion; of the sophistical strength of prejudiced opinion; of the extreme rarity of scholarly wisdom or even disin- terested common sense in the discussion of almost any subject, springs a mine under the views of the believer in Democracy and ‘‘ government by the people,”’ which leaves a yawning, deep and vast gulf in thought incapable of being bridged by any rationalistic assumption of the reasonable in human beings. If the power of desire is so tremendous in making our thoughts sophisticated, will not this force always exist, and, if so, is education really the great political remedial agent that once was dreamed; is there not, as it were, a subtle psycho- logical chemistry with laws of affinities and com- binations and with groupings of individuals as social units which must be understood before any safe political theories can be formed? This awakening to the obvious facts of the situation has led most modern social students to realise that the psychological, even temperamental, study of men’s and women’s natures and of the way INTRODUCTORY, 13 these temperaments herd, crowd, group and con- sort with and repel each other is the only solid basis on which theories of government, whether democratic or otherwise, can be built. In this modern outlook the investigator is falling into line with the experience, if not always the teaching, of Genius in all ages. Genius mostly begins by trusting the people, it mostly ends by being persecuted or neglected by this very people to whom it has appealed. Simple unaided culture and discovery do not win their way by inherent cultural qualities. This is not, however, to assert that the modern tendency of inquiry is to echo the old vulgar con- tempt for the masses of humanity which people of wealth and position once felt for what was unsym- pathetically called the ‘‘ rabble,” all human beings are seen in a new light, at once less and more favourable ; the perspective of the problem is found to be more complicated; and though difficult, it is hoped that, by natural history methods, facts will be obtained which will open up a scientific solution. : The upholders of Democracy began with a theory of humanity which was too simple; they discovered with dismay, and are still discovering, that human relationships are very complex and 1 See the author’s paper ‘The Study of Individuals”. in Soco- logical Papers, Vol. iii., Macmillan & Co., 1907. 14 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD difficult, and this dismay has led to the develop- ment of a social psychology and biology upon which all future theories of government will prob- ably rest. The behaviour of a people must be scientifically interpreted, it cannot be taken blindly on trust. This is a modern discovery of stupend- ous significance. What follows in this volume is in no sense a criticism of Democracy as Democracy; it is a general criticism, which experience will corrobor- ate, of all simple theories of government. The general trend of social study throughout the world is towards the recognition of a like complexity of social reactions to that which Hamlet discovers in the individual human mind. i. In mental development desires act, react and interact, and circumstance plays upon them, the mind is more than the rational by itself can explain. 2. There is a kind of harmony that the playing upon these desires reveals, not a logical sequence, and discords and antagonisms are aroused when desires are jangled together, not played. 3. Complex as playing on a flute, or other musical instrument is, this playing is yet very simple when compared with human reactions. “ Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing J Te INTRODUCTORY 13 you make of me. You would play upon me; you would seem to know my stops; you would pluck out the heart of my mystery; you would sound me from my lowest note to the top of my compass. . . . Why do you think I am easier to play than a pipe? ’'! Shakespeare in this saw dimly what to-day is becoming clearer vision. How unworthy a reality one makes of the individual mind and the social spirituality of a nation or an age when one pro- poses simple logical or simple emotional explan- ations of human activities. The failure of all such simple views of government is what crowd psychology and modern social investigation have revealed. And it is this failure which is now to be discussed. 1 Hamlet, Act iii., Scene 3, CHAPTER II THE EMOTIONAL AND PASSIONAL POWERS BEHIND DEMOCRACIES AND ARISTOCRACIES IT is necessary at this point to make a digression. The word aristocracy is often used to label all past governments in which the appellation ‘‘ king ’’ or ‘ emperor ’’ or some similar supreme title is applied to the social leader, and corresponding ones to signify specific rank to his chief followers, while other words such as ‘ president’ and ‘“ senator »’ are considered to be the sure symbols of democratic power. This is reversing the Shakespearean claim that ‘“ a rose by any other name would smell as sweet,”” and implies that a name gives the qualities to that which bears it, very much as one occasionally finds people who really believe that the words Mary and Jane and John and Henry confer some mysterious character- istics upon those who are so christened and that ever after each will bear the qualities which some birthday-book gives them. It is a curious fact, as Huxley and other writers have pointed out, how 16 pena 2 THE POWERS BEHIND 17 much names and labels do mislead even wise minds, a dog that is given a bad name being as good as already hung; and the political field is not exempt from this danger. To-day aristocracy is an unpopular name and democracy popular, but perhaps not one human being in a million asks what are the realities behind such words. An enlightened people might choose its best citizens, not its most popular ones, as its representatives, and it would then be both aristocratic and demo- cratic at the same time, so that there is no necessary antagonism between aristocracy and democracy in their highest meanings. An autocratic govern- ment, however, is one in which the people exercise little control over government processes, while in a democratic one the people exercise great, perhaps even preponderating power. Between autocracy and democracy there is a clash of principles, though even here if the autocratic is looked upon as a patriarchal or paternal form of government and the democratic as fraternal, there is no deep and lasting antagonism, only a people needs more direct guidance in the early periods of its growth than it does in its later ones, so that, as has often been pointed out, the only true antagonism is ~ between the good and bad forms of the same type of government. But behind the forms of government of both aristocracy and democracy are unnamed rulers B 13 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD who are the real powers ‘‘ behind the throne,” and it is necessary that we should discuss these. ‘ Aristocratic’’ is used in two senses. It sometimes implies a best type of ruler that is bred, at other times a best type that is selected, more often both of these ideas are confused together. Occasionally it is quite loosely defined as govern- ment by the few.! But it is, of course, obvious that an aristocracy in the Socratic, Platonic and Aristotelian as well as in the modern eugenic and hygienic senses, has never had even an approach to an existence except in the crudest way in Sparta. The conception of an hereditary and hygienically selected best and, because best, ruling class in a nation is at present a dream of the Maybe; it never has been, and it would involve so high a degree of unselfishness in the mass of a nation’s citizens in order that cliqueism, favourit- ism, etc., should be subordinated to claims of real worth as to necessitate a moral and cultural trans- formation of humanity. Aristocracy is not, then, a form of government we are leaving behind us, it is one which involves so high a human standard as to be near the unrealisable. =~ And democracy is another and not antagonistic social principle which is almost as ideal in its remarkable require- ments, for it assumes a people, a whole united people, so well-educated and above all so morally 1 See Austin’s treatment of Kant’s view in his Jurisprudence. THE POWERS BEHIND 19 and religiously inspired that a large majority would vote in accordance with what honour, research and general culture would demand. To think such a people to be capable of existing, at once so enlightened and so noble, is to assume men and women to be much nearer to the species ‘“ angel »’ than modern social science leads us to believe possible. Aristocracy and democracy are not, therefore, rival political alternatives; indeed, as more than one authority has pointed out, the future may hold in store some kind of combination of these ideals; but they both are governmental dreams of so high an order as for the moment almost to be unattain- able. It is necessary to emphasise and underline this thought because, for the most part, all govern- ments of the past have been, and are still to-day, neither artistocratic nor democratic but geneo- cratic;! and the effort to provide a true democratic social aim is an effort that is almost new. We all know what the word genealogy suggests; it is the acceptance of family and family associa- tion as a great fact of life; a genealogist is one who traces descents of people, and genealogising is the furthering these descent and association influences. Geneocracies are what almost all past governments have been, and to grasp this fact 1 Geneocratic is used throughout the present volume as govern- ment by family influences in the state. 20 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD clearly and firmly is to see something of the diffi- culty which aristocratic and democratic ideals will have to face. In 1826, John Burke first published his Peerage, which is defined ‘‘ as a genealogical and heraldic dictionary,” and also his Landed Gentry. Sir John Burke, his second son, carried on his father’s task, and to say that these works have been in constant demand ever since is not to exaggerate the interest which the volumes have aroused. Similar modern tendencies exist in other countries. In 1826 the careful recording of genealogies began to arise, but the interest was always there. I will give only two other examples; (1) the importance attaching to genealogies in the Bible and other ancient sacred books and (2) primitive man’s feeling. The evidence Lord Avebury and other British and continental anthropologists collected in regard to ancestor worship is a curious testimony to the all but universal, perhaps wholly universal, interest in the genealogical aspect. Dr W. H. R. Rivers (in a paper published in Volume IIT of the Sociological Review, January, 1910, on The Genealogical Method of Anthropological Inquiry) was able to show in detail how the natives in the Eastern Solomon Islands remembered with great accuracy long ancestral pedigrees and attached much importance to them. I will not refer to family and clan feuds which have existed THE POWERS BEHIND 21 in regions so widely separated as Italy, Scotland, France, China and Japan and among the aborigines of America, Africa and Australia. I only note the fact that this genealogical factor is seemingly universal and very powerful, whereas the aristocratic and democratic principles are not really vital forces. The phrase ‘‘ A chip of the old block »’ gives a parental feeling of satisfac- tion that is an all-time human feeling. Space does not permit me to enlarge on this but the evidence is patent and easily obtainable. The governments of peoples of the past have been mainly geneocracies which have for their bases non-discriminating and non-selective blood ties of family descent, with an admixture of what are spoken of as social parvenus. These geneocracies have again and again arisen, and the geneocrats which they have produced have as often expressed a contempt for the poor lettered and the poor unlettered worker, and grouped all unopulent and all unambitious people together and branded them as ‘‘ rabble,” ‘‘ canaille,”’ etc. This contempt men like Samuel Johnson and Beethoven did much to remove as regards lettered people, but the proletariat is now itself feeling that it is time to treat all human beings with respect as Christ, Buddha and Confucius long ago taught. Democracy need not then fear the principle of aristocracy; both have to deal with 22 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD the much more widespread and powerful influence of geneocracy, which every parent tends to mani- fest towards his or her child; every man or woman to a family friend or associate; every member of a clan, town, county, nation, school, college, class or race to another member, and which arouses in sex some of the most complicated issues of favouritism. The study of ruling families in a state is a study of genealogical influences; the study of gild influences in industry is a study of like family influences, of which the most colossal example is the caste system in India, and underneath all the outward forms of society are the real forces of family and family friendships which make geneo- cratic forms of government the dominating ones, whether it be in the fields of Tammany or Free- masonry or in the preference a father and mother give to their child to succeed them in their busi- ness. Can we hope for a democratic. or an aristocratic influence or both combined which will modify and lead upwards to noble and disinterested social heights this bias of affection and love? This is the real issue. It would be neither wise nor possible to seek to obliterate these sources of sympathy and strength, but can we make them noble and disinterested? The position is: Are the age-long geneocracies to become at last suffused with the democratic or the truly aristo- THE POWERS BEHIND 23 cratic spirit? And which is the better spirit to do this or are both required ? But although the geneocratic influence is of dominating power, there are two others of only less commanding strength. ‘‘ Seniores priores ’’ is a phrase which, at any rate, in its meaning is far older than its Latin clothing, and the little humorous saying ‘‘ Age before honesty >’ has historically a sinister justification. The value of experience, of length of real service, and even of length of time in a well-lived life is not to be denied, but seneocratic mass influences in govern- ment have not always had a value basis.? And if nepotism is used in the narrower sense, as that which describes the self-regarding impulses, then this word also is of great political significance, for while there is a social insistence on personal needs which is quite justifiable, there is also a parasitic mutualism among the self-seeking which is danger- ous to state efficiency. It would seem, then, that there are six powerful political groups of factors—geneocratic, seneo- cratic, nepotic, autocratic, aristocratic and demo- cratic, and of these the first four are both the dangerous and the common influences. All six of them require much more research than they have hitherto received and lead us to a new study 1 Perhaps these have a geneocratic patriarchal origin, but they present a problem of their own. 24 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD of the habits of life of groups of men and women and to other crowd problems. It must be understood that the author is simply trying to state facts and is not casting aspersions. What led to pride of family, the particular psychology which educed and educes it, is a matter for investigation. How such words as ‘‘ rabble ”’ with their connotations came into existence is another problem, the author simply states the fact that they did come. And the book would have to be greatly enlarged and lose its present character if the many exceptions to the rule were carefully examined. For instance, it is true, even to this day, that family pride takes precedence over cultural pride (it is not suggested that either form of this feeling is praiseworthy), but family pride in protecting the learned man through patronage (and sometimes very real affection and respect were added) did a great deal for literature, art, music, religion and even science, and as at first the ‘‘ great families ’’ were mostly military, their protection of the unmilitary student in past warlike periods was a very real assistance to the general growth of mental life in the nation. The object the author has in view is simply to point out that blind geneocratic and autocratic forces were almost immeasurably stronger than aristo- cratic and democratic ones. CHAPTER 11 THE PEOPLE AND THE CROWD PROBLEM. THE DREAM OF AN EASY SOLUTION WHEN Europe awakened to social inquiry at the Reformation, the mass or crowd problem did not at first present itself as a problem. Milton has a paper entitled The Ready and Easy Way to Establish a Free Commonwealth and this is expres- sive of his whole attitude, and no other writer who thought of democratic awakening conceived of it as other than an easy enlightenment. John Locke, like Milton, assumed that people would use their liberty and their education wisely.! Lessing, though more cautious, also thought that freedom is the safe and obvious road to learning. ‘‘It is not true that speculations upon these things have ever done harm or become injurious to the body politic. You must find fault not with specula- tions, but with the folly and tyranny of checking 1 Probably he was thinking of a /Zmited popular control, as he did not think truth and reason are popularly appreciated. 26 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD them.”’* Channing, Emerson, and the whole of the New England poets, Cullen Bryant, Long- fellow, Lowell, Whittier, echoed the same thought, and Mill, from the rational standpoint, saw in Liberty no real danger. Mazzini at times saw that there was at least a case for another side. Thoughts upon Democracy in Europe, written for the People’s Journal in 1847 contains a great many wise statements. He says ‘“ even among the friends of democracy there are men who put their hands to the work with hesita- tion, and who sometimes appear seized with vague terror *’; and again ‘‘ Give the suffrage to a people unfitted for it, governed by hateful reactionary passions, they will sell it, or make a bad use of it,”” and his ideal of democracy, ‘‘ the progress of all through all, under the leading of the best and wisest,’’ is very far from what democrats are seek- ing to-day. Yet he believed as Milton and Locke and Lessing believed before him ‘‘ Men are the creatures of education and their actions are but the consequence of the principle of education given to them ’’;? only open the doors of the palace of knowledge to men and women and they will read and study the best, show them the great call and they will follow it as the lark seeks the sky. “ Child of Humanity, raise thy brow to the 1 Education of the Human Race, Section 78. 2 7he Duties of Man, Chapter I, Introduction. THE CROWD PROBLEM 27 sun of God, and read upon the heavens: It moves. Faith and Action! The future is ours.” Somewhere in the voice of the people is to be heard the voice of God. Awaken the people, give them light and there will be no more to fear. The amazing element in this teaching is the notion that the tremendous world-wide indiffer- ence, ignorance and sin of the multitude could rest on so simple and so passive a state as lack of knowledge. If a Roger Bacon, a Shakespeare, a John Bunyan, could gain knowledge in spite of a life’s vicissitudes, why could not the multitudes of men and women, if they desired it, gain it too? Of course it may be said, with much truth, that men and women are not so bad or so indifferent as their behaviours suggest. The use of narcotics is world-wide and is almost co-extensive with human history, and one of the explanations fre- quently given for this enormous addiction to such drugs is that the struggle with circumstance strains men and women almost to the breaking point. ‘‘ The desire for an emotional release out of physical suffering or general weakness into a sense of well-being and even of ecstasy creates the morphino-maniac and the cocaine victim as well as the dipsomaniac. The temptation to drugs of 1 Closing words of Faith and the Future. 28 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD addiction in particular arises from the desire to escape from what Arthur Symons has described in a suggestive phrase as the ‘ bondage of exterior- ity.” ’* This is, no doubt, true as an explanation of the narcotic habit, but it does not meet even the majority of the cases as so many persons begin these habits almost in youth, long before the stress of life is seriously felt; and though the struggle with circumstance is severe, the circumstance which counts in making this strain is strictly the fashion, custom and etiquette of human society which control personal desires and which human beings collectively impose on the single individual, everyone complaining at his own restriction but approving of such restriction for others, and there- fore this irksomeness and harshness of our human surroundings is further proof of the general low tone of the masses who form, or acquiesce in, such collective standards. It is not merely a negative evil we are confronted with but desires which often obstinately resist enlightenment. Shakespeare’s works are full of sayings as to the rarity of virtuous qualities in the average man and woman. ‘“ How far that little candle throws his beams! So shines a good deed in a naughty world.”’2 1 ““The World-Problem of Drugs of Addiction,” paper by Basil Mathews in Vol. xx. of Z%e British Journal of Inebriety. 2 The Merchant of Venice, Act v., Scene 6. THE CROWD PROBLEM 29 And his view of the multitude is condemning. ‘“ What many men desire :—that many may be meant By the fool multitude, that choose by show, Not learning more than the fond eye doth teach, Which pries not to the interior . . I will not choose what many men desire, Because I will not jump with common spirits, And rank me with the barbarous multitude.’’1 Here are but two references out of one play and how easily they could be multiplied! And even a people’s poet such as Burns, writes of ‘“ Man’s inhumanity to man” and in his Epistle lo a Young Friend, he could say: : “ Ye'll find mankind an unco squad, And muckle they may grieve ye.” Yet Mazzini, knowing the little and great naughti- ness of the world, as Milton, Locke and Lessing knew it too, knowing that men and women choose by show, knowing the inhumanity of men and women to each other, which makes countless thou- sands mourn, could yet believe that the Child of Humanity had but to raise its brow to the sun of God and all would be well. No problems of temperament, no selfishness, no lust of power, no sensationalism had to be conquered. Only free- dom, only education, and the future is that of a noble-hearted people! J. A. Symonds has given us this dream in a few words : 1 The Merchant of Venice, Act ii., Scene 9, 30 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD ‘“ These things shall be: a loftier race Than e’er the world hath known shall rise, With flame of freedom in their souls, And light of knowledge in their eyes. ‘“ Man shall love man with heart as pure And fervent as the young-eyed throng Who chant their heavenly psalms before God’s face with undiscordant song.” We who have lived through an age that is getting its freedom, is getting its education and is misusing it, who see the suffrage given and know how it has been won and how it is now wasted—we read unmoved of this dream except to feel amazement that fine and noble minds could thus delude themselves. For thousands of years, in all lands, men and women have lived lives of wastage; desires not reason, desires not faiths, desires, and these chiefly bodily ones, have been the kings and queens of life; the problem is to quicken the better, the nobler side of these desires. The easy plan has failed, there has come a reaction of despair, but this too will pass and leave instead the direct path of religious and scientific achievement. A great task of spiritual psychology is before us. It will be a Pilgrim People’s Slow Progress over hundreds and thou- sands of years, but humanity will climb its distant hill-tops at last. It is something to know that indifference to the crowd problem is at last passing. CHAPTER 1V PSEUDO-DEMOCRATIC FULFILMENT AND REACTION So far two main points have been illustrated: (1) that democracy, as an outlook, is not hostile to aristocracy, as an outlook; that Mazzini himself almost embodied them in one ideal when he gave as the aim of democracy ‘‘ the progress of all through all under the leading of the best and wisest *’; the real difficulty is to uplift the universal geneocratic tendency which allows private, family, and friendly associations and intrigues to direct public affairs, whereas these affairs should be organised on disinterested and impartial principles. Nepotic self-seeking and autocratic social influences may also when per- verted be inconsistent with the calls of true aristocracy and democracy. This is the first, great, almost supreme and dominating difficulty. (2) Only less important is it to help men and women to feel for themselves and others that ““ waste is not the rule of life,”” however much at times circumstances may appear to suggest this, 31 32 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD and to stimulate people to purposeful activity not by vague words or encouraging fanciful dreams, which end in nothing, nor by flattery, but by the study of the sciences of individual and crowd developments, so that through trained sympathetic insight the sources of higher human activities may be reached. Graham Wallas® says ‘‘ We all feel, indeed, in 1920 much more humble when approaching the problem of reconstruction, than did the followers of Rousseau or Adam Smith before the French Revolution, or the followers of Bentham or Godwin or Hegel or Mazzini, after the world-war that ended in 1815.” And the reason for this is obvious. The Puritan Commonwealth of England and Cromwell, though it aroused the antagonism of Scotland and the active dislike later of England itself, probably was more trusted as a government than any government has been, and the United States Republic seemed to confirm this trust with- out awakening the dislike, but in the French Revolution, the whole problem of democracy, the naked rule of a people, stood out in unabashed ascendancy, and men asked in amazement and fear or almost trembling hope, what would be the out- come. But it seemed to mean something, and that something to-day we are less confident of. Burke and Wordsworth in England are typical of those 1 Our Social Heritage, p. 24 (1921 edition). PSEUDO-DEMOCRATIC FULFILMENT 33 who lost confidence in the people’s ability to govern itself, and Dr Richard Price’s bold, but at the same time cautious, undetailed and vague predic- tion that it would end well, was typical of the other side. These protagonists were the pre- cursors of students who have tried to face the issues of what government by the people really means, and from their time doubts about popular government have grown in the minds of social scientific thinkers, while for the masses, the dream and the practicality of mass government has been the increasingly favoured commonplace of the hour. Hegel was, I fancy, the first great teacher really to ask the question how could masses of men and women, so prejudiced, so ignorant, so egotistic as the vast majority of men and women are even in the most enlightened countries, wisely govern themselves, and he honestly faced the issue and gave to the world the first genuine theory of democratic government; but since his day, the real danger of popular government has become more and more evident and our attitude has become correspondingly humbler. Michelet too has had less than Justice done to his little book on The People, and its endeavour to understand the peasant mind, the tradesman’s mind, the modern workman and his machine, and even the bourgeoisie. He saw, romanticist though Cc 34 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD he was, the need for a study of human nature as the basis of all government, a need which Mazzini, as well as Bentham and the ulitarians, entirely overlooked, and we may say that in Burke, Price, Hegel and Michelet,? the study of the people began to be faced, and that these are the general founders of the modern political outlook, an out- look which is critical even where it is not reaction- ary in its hopes of and for the masses. Some Frenchmen like Renan, some Germans like Goethe, Wagner and Nietzsche and quite a number of Englishmen of whom Goldsmith, Charles Pearson, John Ruskin, William Morris, and even at times Gladstone, are examples, looked upon the whole of modern civilisation with questioning eyes, and if they did not go so far as to see in it ‘‘ a sorry scheme of things,” yet felt that somewhere a blunder, and that a huge one, had been made. Recently, Mr Sidney Dark, in a popular little essay on Books and The Man summarises three of our modern fictionists as follows : ‘“ Mr Hardy looks out on the world and sighs at what seems to him its almost unbroken tragedy and pain ”’ (p. 52). ‘‘ We are all the sport of fate 1 About Gladstone’s influence and views I shall say a word later ; he feared the sense-gratifying power of modern civilisation, think- ing that it might destroy religious purpose. Rousseau did not see the dangers of democratic rule which are at the centre of the problem. PSEUDO-DEMOCRATIC FULFILMENT 35 and the bigger we are the more fate loves to play with us” (p. 47). “ Mr Wells gets into a furious passion at the muddles and the bewilderments and the pain. They seem to him unnecessary, the result of sheer stupidity . . .” (p- 52). Mr Bennett thinks ‘‘ Modern commercial con- ditions rob human life of almost all its dignity.” These attitudes are quite different from what one might call the French attitude of Comte, the Positivist, who thought that man is as it were coming into his own and will put all difficulties straight; they are widely different from Shakes- peare’s and Thackeray’s acceptance of a world process of social conditions too big and vast for man to understand; they are different from Dickens’ or Mark Twain’s cheery amusement at it all and still more different from Channing’s and Mazzini’s faith. It is a feeling that collective man has taken the wrong road and is, therefore, the world over near destruction or at least disaster. Now this attitude forms undoubtedly a background on which the narrower criticism of democracy rests, and it is almost as modern® probably as the desire for and the criticism of such a democracy, but it must not be confused with it. It is perhaps the most vital need of the times to give man, if it can 1 Of course, the evils of cities and civilisations had long been recognised, but these had not been traced to some defect in the process of civilisation itself. 36 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD be done scientifically, a full belief in the value and worth of modern civilisation and even of the whole of human history. But for the moment I am speaking of the more restricted reaction to democracy itself. I will take four competent English writers as examples of this spirit, and as they are men of widely different natures and learning their con- clusions are the more valuable. George Gissing was not an ordinary novelist; he has sometimes been spoken of as a ‘‘ sordid ”’ and more often as a ‘‘ depressing ’’ writer, with what truth I will not now attempt to consider; he was undoubtedly, like many fictionists and poets, an erratic character, but he as undoubtedly tried hard to see the truth and he had very ample oppor- tunity of meeting with those men and women who make up the core of what are called the democratic sections in a community. As to his attitude towards this proletariat it is difficult to form an opinion; his own friends are not agreed as to what this attitude was; but he writes sympathetically, and as only a sympathetic critic could, of what is . called working-class life. =~ Demos, published in 1886, is a story in which one theme runs through the book from its opening to its close, that the finer qualities of life, our real culture and our real civilisation will suffer, are now suffering, destruc- tion by the rule of the many. And in his other PSEUDO-DEMOCRATIC FULFILMENT 37 works, this idea is repeated unvaryingly. It is obviously his belief derived from his experience.! In 1896 Lecky,”? the historian, published Democracy and Liberty; generally his view appears to be that there must be a decline in the qualities of leadership when the full representative power of a people is once established. Again twelve years later, Professor Graham Wallas published a work Human Nature in Politics, in which he notes that ‘‘ in the very nations which have most whole-heartedly accepted representative democracy, politicians and political students seem puzzled and disappointed by their experience of it.” Viscount Bryce is not, I think, a more scholarly man, and though he has a larger, it is not, I think, a more intimate experience than the preceding writers; his American Commonwealth, published in 1888, is admittedly a world classic, and his recent Modern Democracies may become another; they are, indeed, almost the only books in which something like comprehensive surveys have been made, surveys, that is, which are not 1 Gissing says in his Ryecroft Papers (16th Section, Spring): — “I am no friend of the people. As a force by which the tenor of the time is conditioned they inspire me with distrust, with fear; as a visible multitude, they make me shrink aloof and often move me to abhorrence.’’ 2 T am not forgetting older warnings like those of Aristotle, and, more recently, Alison and J. L. Milton, but I have deliberately chosen those writers who have experienced democratic influences at work, 33 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD palpably one-sided; yet although Bryce writes with far more friendliness to the democratic hope than Lecky, he is almost as definite in his insist- ence that democracies do not attract the best men who exist in a nation, and though it may be urged, as it has been, that other governments do not achieve this either, it is evident that Bryce is speaking of public men who wish for public service, not the great scholars who are for the most part, rightly or wrongly, detached from public affairs and have always been so. Bryce apparently thinks that democracies often arise in relatively free and relatively enlightened peoples, but his point is that the national enlightenment is not made full use of, and the impressive part of his books is his guarded half-apprehensive praise. It is as if a sympathetic friend were watching a younger man’s development and while he can still respect him, sees delicate and subtle and sometimes even coarse signs of deterioration in his character, and while confident of his natural capacity is yet afraid that he will not ‘‘ make good ’’ his powers when the final testing comes. It is a qualified approval which has more of doubt than confidence in its genuinely friendly attitude. In this it is more destructively impressive than *‘ damning with faint praise.’’! 1 Now that the ideal of democracy ‘‘has been tried by time and by numerous instances, no one could write of it with the Mazzinian glow.” Professor Hobhouse reviewing Bryce’s ‘Modern Demo- cracies,”’ Sociological Review, Vol. xiii., p. 126, PSEUDO-DEMOCRATIC FULFILMENT 39 It is suggested that these four references do offer a fair sample of a change of opinion, which, the world over, is steadily being increasingly mani- fested by thoughtful minds towards this political problem of the government of a people by itself. Cheery optimism is often a great evil when it obscures real weaknesses, as when, for example, our late nineteenth century health students pro- claimed the greater vigour and strength of the modern man, woman and child, when all that the facts warranted was that modern nations were served by a better sanitary system which masked a real fall in vital capacity. A like potent optimism is now masking much that is extremely dangerous in the democratic tendency. How far is the rule of the many a wise one? We may not in the end go so far as Aristotle in claiming that it never can be wise or efficient, but there are evident and grow- ing signs of distrust in thoughtful and informed minds. One may, therefore, proceed to examine a little more closely the causes of this distrust, and we need once again to remind ourselves that it is not true democracy which has failed, but that social geneocratic influences which before were exercised mainly by a few families, are now spread widely over the whole of society; where before it was a selective, it is now a disseminated geneocracy which displays the whole people's tastes. CHAPTER V SOME EVIDENCE OF THE FAILURE OF MODERN PSEUDO-DEMOCRACIES. THE PRESS I MusT ask once more that the reader keep in his mind the pseudo-nature of all existing democracies, and the general failure of all past governments because of geneocratic evils; I shall try to omit these weaknesses and only consider those that would appear to be of a directly democratic nature which have forced on the student the need for a crowd psychological study to combat them. Also in the references that follow I shall quote chiefly from British sources, not because I am unaware of similar movements in other countries; my whole point is that such movements are world-wide, but because any statements I may make will not be thought to be partisan if they are made about a country and an empire of which I am myself a loyal citizen. French, German and American students can easily fill in like data for their own lands where I have not made special references to them. 40 THE PRESS 41 THE PRress!? Of all hopes that have been belied none are greater and more striking than those which gathered around what is known as ‘‘ The Press.” Milton chiefly thought of printing as a source of widespread dissemination of knowledge, and the newspaper was less in his mind than the teaching power of books; could he, however, have had a dream of what our world’s newspapers have become in their accessibility and dissemination and in their daily publication without seeing thetr contents, he would have felt far more confident than he was that the power would be used to open, enlarge and uplift the mind of man, and his con- fidence would have been shared by the rest of his contemporaries as is evident by such writers as Jeremy Taylor in his Discourse of the Liberty of Prophesying. Put simply, thinking men and women at first believed that just as the multitude would not choose rancid and putrid bodily food if they had an alternative of sweet and wholesome varieties ; so with mental food. In an open public market, and the more public the better, the healthy appeal would survive. We see now this was a very childlike attitude. Disease is as natural as health and has its own way of reaching its objective, and 1 Professor Gilbert Murray has rightly insisted that in these studies of crowd influences, we might have learnt much from the Greeks and Romans. 42 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD perverted tastes may relish the morbid. Further, mental tastes cannot be safely compared to bodily ones; bodily foods which are unhealthy nauseate us far more definitely than do mental ones. Lastly, neither Milton nor his contemporaries knew that in the appeal to an indiscriminate multitude, it necessarily follows that this appeal must be lower in proportion to its vastness and numbers. Beyond this it was assumed that the free, open market for ideas is easy of attainment, instead of appallingly difficult. Milton’s Areopagitica: a Speech for the Liberty of Unlicensed Printing. To the Parliament of England is perhaps the world’s classic on this subject. The tractate begins by a fine quotation from Euripides : ‘“ This is true Liberty, when free-born men Having to advise the public, may speak free, Which he who can, and will, deserve high praise ; Who neither can, nor will, may hold his peace; What can be juster in a state than this?” it ends by a splendid appeal to cosmopolitan truth: ‘“ But to redress willingly and speedily what hath been erred . . . is a virtue (honoured lords and commons!) answerable to your highest actions and whereof none can participate but greatest and wisest men.” There is in this essay great loftiness, but what THE: PRESS 43 Milton failed to realise was how others than the greatest and the wisest would participate in and determine what should be printed, and flood the little stream of truth-seekers out of its course, or, as we say to-day, ‘‘snow it under.” Milton’s belief was that the many would choose the best and wisest if they had the opportunity of choice. The Areopagitica was published in November, 1644. In a little book on English Journalism by Charles Pebody, published in 1882, the following appreciations of journalism, not without justifica- tion for the journalism of that day, are made. ““ The Press errs, no doubt, now and then, but it is on the whole, honest, independent, and able; and as long as that is the case, the English Press, with all its faults, must remain what it is at present —one of the ornaments of our public life, one of the surest guarantees for the purity of our public men, and one of the bulwarks of public liberty ”’ (p. 25). And on the last page of the work, the claim is made that the English Press is the ‘‘ only Press in the world . . . that has grown purer as it has grown freer. It is the only Press in the world that has improved in its tone as it has become cheaper.” This is too boastful, though its general conten- tion was then near the truth; the eighties of last 44 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD century were the high water-mark of English journalism ;' but already though the tone is still Miltonic, how ominous is the statement that ours is: — . ““The only Press in the world that has grown purer as it has grown freer.” and ‘The only Press in the world that has improved in its tone as it has become cheaper.” But the rising tide of the Yellow Press, though it had left one little sand-heap unflooded, was soon to sweep even this away. The sinister warn- ing in that word only should have been better heeded and guarded against. In 1909 appeared J. B. Fagan’s play The Earth, and in 1910, Arnold Bennett's What the Public Wants; no one would deny that these are both expert writers on the Press, but how changed is the attitude with regard to the confidence in the power and the will of the public mind to choose the wholesome and the refined ! _ 1 Tt is not easy, of course, to fix any date of a general deteriora- tion, as the better minds are always dissatisfied with their own generations. James Sully, writing of the stage as early as 1874, says ‘‘ the theatre is abandoned to those who thirst for some new horror, and are ready to gape in impotent wonder at every cumbrous mechanical device for representing the unrepresentable,” Sensation and Intuition, p. 312. The masses in these respects have always been unsatisfactory. They are so still. THE PRESS 45 The chief character speaks thus in Mr Bennett’s play: ‘““ I've only got one principle. Give the public what it wants. Don’t give the public what you think it ought to want, or what you think would be good for it; but what it actually does want sie ps 21) And the chief character speaks thus in Mr Fagan’s play: “You've got to write for the man in the street; if he isn’t in the gutter he’s pretty near it. . . . If you're a newspaper man, your business is to sell news. If you want to sell moral lessons —that’s the parson’s trade ’’ (pp. 38-9). “ . .. All the good news in the world will not sell a copy of the evening Press, whilst murder never fails.? The best defence of ‘ The Press’’ 1 am acquainted with is that of Booker T. Washington in the fourth chapter of his volume My Larger Education. (1) “To a very large extent the daily news- 1 “The newspaper proprietors give the public what it wants. That is why they have succeeded. Broadly speaking, they find that what the public wants is sport, divorces, crimes, and a tincture of politics, made up of facile emotions, of which national vanities, fears and hatreds are the most easily stimulated,” Sociological Review, Vol. xiii., p. 133; Professor Hobhouse’s review of Bryce’s Modern Democracy. 2 C. W. Saleeby, Zhe Eugenic Prospect, p. 88, 1921. 46 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD papers have merely taken up the work that was formerly performed by the village gossip or by the men who sat around in the village store, talked politics and made public opinion.” (2) But they do this work more responsibly. ““ What I know of the newspapers convinces me that they do not print one-tenth of the reports that are sent in to them.” The newspapers err but less than individual gossips would. (3) The newspaper ‘‘ represents the interest and reflects the opinions and intelligence of the average [person] in the community where the paper is published *’ but it tends to represent ‘‘ the average [person] at his [or her] worst’ rarely at the best aspect. Because, presumably, this pleases the newspaper reader. (4) Newspapers are socially valuable because they are, as it were, an improved reflection of public opinion. This may be a valid defence of ‘‘ The Press ” but, it shows the mass mind in a still more lurid light. If public opinion would be worse without ““ The Press ’ and its restraining influence; if with growing popularity the tone of the representing newspaper must correspondingly fall; if it is popular to dwell on the worse rather than the better aspects of human life, then it is self-evident that a blind political trust in the masses is indeed ‘““ fool’s folly.” THE PRESS 47 Here ends a dream, after two centuries of test- ing, by the failure of many noble efforts. The man and the woman of the street are near the gutter in their tastes, like to read spiritual garbage, and will have it. Bunyan’s human being with the muck rake is not only true for his day but for ours. It is not wholly ignorance but desire also which makes people choose darkness rather than light.! Yet Ebenezer Elliott, ‘‘ The Corn-Law Rhymer ”’ wrote only in the second quarter of the nineteenth century— “God said—‘ Let there be light’— Grim darkness felt His High and fled i 2 *¢ ¢The Those? all lands shall sing ; The Press, the Press we bring, All lands to bless: O pallid Want! O Labour stark! Behold we bring the second ark ! The Press! the Press! the Press!” I take the contents of a typical illustrated paper which happens to be before me as I write. It is published in the year 1916, and it has, so it claims, a sale of more than two millions, and is, therefore, read by five to ten million people. Here are the contents: — 1st page: Sensational War Photographs of no educative or informative value. 1 On other lines than circulation, the Press may recover its lost prestige, 48 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD 2nd page: Some War information, the grief of a millionaire, a girl’s bridal trip, and a bishop" who blames homes, etc. 3rd page: Real War News. 4th and 5th pages: Pages of popular writing. 6th and 7th pages: Pages of illustrated gossip. 8th and gth pages: Illustrated sensationalism. A page of advertisements. A page of musical comedy and theatrical danc- ing revues. A page of sensational ‘‘love-story’’ writing, with three advertisements which disguise the truth. A page of gossip about women. The other page advertisements, all disguising the truth, and sensational illustrations. This analysis is much above not below the ordinary level, for ugly divorce news, murder and theft trials and prize-fighting, gambling and racing are all absent, instead of filling as they usually do, the prominent places. But if Milton could come back, would he still say: ‘‘ Liberty . always with right reason dwells.” Would Mr Pebody still write: ‘“ The tendency of the Press to-day is to enlist all the intellectual forces of the nation in its service ’’ as he wrote in 1882. : THE PRESS 49 Would Elliott, a people’s poet, still think of the Press as the dispeller of the people’s spiritual darkness? Or would they say with Thackeray : be . Vanitas vanitatum! . . . Come, children, let us shut up the box and the puppets, for our play is played out.”” (Conclusion to Vanity Fair.) It requires a stout heart still to believe in the ‘“ voice of the People ’’ after one has studied the People’s Press, with its items of ‘‘ All the Winners,” ‘‘ Race for the Jubilee,” ‘‘ The Great Pight,” etc. I will not illustrate how the modern theatre is declining, how men like Henry Irving and Forbes Robertson seem to have less and less chance as the years go by. How even the music hall is being killed by its still more sensational rival, the cinema. William Archer,! Granville Barker? and others have schemes for the reversal of this tendency and both are hopeful, but the same questions are asked as Fagan and Bennett ask about ‘‘The Press.”” Mr Barker’s plea for a special kind of ‘“ Exemplary Theatre ’ is that the standard of success to-day is ‘‘ the power to attract the greatest possible crowd in the shortest possible time,” 1 Art and the Commonweal, etc. 2 The Exemplary Theatre. 50 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD and this is admitted to have a degrading influence. Facts on which such conclusions are based can be studied to-day by us all, and are patent on (3 every ‘‘ publicity’ hoarding. Standards fall as popularity rises. CHAPTER VI SOME EVIDENCE OF THE FAILURE OF MODERN PSEUDO-DEMOCRACIES. THE READING PUBLIC A Goop deal of the flamboyant optimism that is met with to-day is due to the fact that most people are ignorant of even the rudiments of scientific method and do not think of the relative and actual proportions of a problem. Books are a typical example of this danger. A book may succeed reasonably well if two thousand copies are sold in a few months, but if the people who ought to buy it are not two thousand but sixty or eighty thou- sand, and, shall we say, one thousand eight hundred and fifty copies are sold, although it may not be a failure financially, the fact of its very moderate success may be of quite sinister signi- ficance. The question is not, therefore, when we consider the democratic issue, whether a few enthusiastic men and women can be got together to listen to a good lecture, or will buy and read a good class of book; it is, What proportion are these of the class they belong to? If this is 51 52 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD not clearly recognised, the whole problem of democracy will be misunderstood. The Scottish popular education movement began with Knox and was quickly extended, English popular education began with the Nonconformist Academies of the second half of the seventeenth century, and the Conformist effort through *‘ The Society for the Promotion of Christian Knowl- edge,” and this society, when it was inaugurated, expressed its opinion on the ‘‘ barbarous ignorance of the common people.”’? It would take too long to go into the history of these national movements, but for more than two centuries in both countries, general education as an aim has been before the minds of the British people. I will pass over many attempts that failed; Robert Owen's effort to make intelligent citizens, Dr John Aikin’s provision of really good popular literature to reach the people; Knight's publica- tion of the Penny Magazine and Chambers’ Information for the People, which were read by professional classes, and to a limited extent only by these, and not by the people as a whole; all of these attempts were, one after another, abandoned. I will not discuss the failure, except in a few instances, of ‘‘ Working Men’s Col- leges ’’ and ‘‘ Institutes,” because it was said that 1 du Important Chapter on English Church History, S.P.C.K., 1698-1904, p. 4. THE READING PUBLIC 53 the people were not ready, that the elementary ‘“ schools of the people’ not having been universal the people were not prepared to appre- ciate any kind of study. Such arguments were terribly weak, they ignored the evidence that there always was, as there still is, a positively gigantic leakage in all educational work, and that there was no effective relation between the educational effort expended and the educational taste aroused. But taking the special pleading for what it is worth, and ignoring the thousands and thousands who had been through voluntary schools and had not become readers of any kind of solid literature, the plea of the reality of a general popular demand for mental life in any form has met its death-blow in the work which has been done in England, and other countries, during the last forty years, since Board and County Schools have been established. The House of Cassell and Professor Henry Morley deserve great credit for trying in the eighties of last century, at a time when more than a generation of people had been through the schools, to provide the best literature at the modest price of 3d. a paper volume and 44d. a cloth one. This series would have succeeded even if the middle classes had taken it up; it did not succeed —though in a much more limited and expensive form, it has not completely failed. 54 + SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD I will not go over the melancholy decline of publishers’ catalogues, when publishers have followed the course of the Press and sought popularity, though the decadence is similar in almost all respects. But I will take another aspect. 1 have been in a Tutorial Class Movement, which was perhaps the most promising one in the world, where adult students choose their own subjects, do not pay the lecturers’ fees at all, but only about one penny a lecture for hall accommodation, and where everything is done to make the lectures attractive by the tutors, who are of university standing or its equivalent. I do not believe I exaggerate when I claim that the proportion of such students to the general population in a given locality is not thirty-five to twenty thousand, though there has been a fine enthusiasm in those who attended. It is folly, indeed, to assert that there is a thirst for education in the face of such incontestably strong evidence to the contrary. And, speaking broadly, Trades Unions will not support any form of real education, though they will give sparingly to pro- pagandist work that expresses their own economic views. We need percentage figures in terms of the whole general population of districts to show what people will pay for cinema, theatre, fiction, gambling, and outdoor amusements as compared with real education. = x" THE READING PUBLIC 55 It is when we try to think in these comparative terms, and consider the money spent on alcohol and narcotics; on unhealthy, and nearly always sensational, forms of entertainment; on outdoor sports and their betting accompaniments; on the grosser forms of non-literary fiction; on education which, while it is real, is taken up purely for monetary reasons, and economic studies which are mainly followed because of a personal cupidity interest; it is when we weigh these lower human activities on one side and the higher ones on the other, that we see how little remains which can be honestly called cultural. How can a people rule itself wisely, when by far the majority of its citizens do not spend, out of their money allotted not to necessities but to recreation, one penny in the pound on the higher life aims? ““ The Adult School ”’ and the better Brother- hoods are a fine leaven in the people, but they are a small, a very small proportion of the whole, and these movements are not wholly independent and wholly supported by the members themselves. The living wage standard has long been passed in many occupations in this country—in almost all occupations before the war in Australia—and there is little or no evidence of any moral or cultural uplifting as a consequence, though there is a wider and wider prevalence of gambling and neo- malthusian and other doubtful tendencies. 56 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD When during the war, allotments of land were granted in parks, and in fields directly overlooking some of the finest of English sea-coast scenery, no attempt was made to prevent disfigurement of the landscape. A chicken-run would be put up and an old perambulator, a pail with bricks in it or some other makeshift would be used to keep the top from being blown away when a few nails would have made the whole more presentable; and the study of any park after a bank holiday with its litter and the trampled-down flower beds is enough to give a lover of humanity the heartache. Where is even the beginnings of the aesthetic in such men and women? I will refer to one last general head which may be covered by the word, ‘‘ QUACKERY.” Bald-headed chemists sell quantities of hair restorers, and it is of no consequence to their sales that they are bald-headed themselves. And a study of the foolishness of the ordinary advertise- ment columns of newspapers gives ample testimony of the truth of this assertion. A writer in a good-class Sunday paper* speaks of a concert where three pieces were badly played, yet “ won such a round of applause as compelled an encore.”’ Another writer in a daily paper of good standing writes ‘‘ These hysterical sentences show 1 The Observer, 8.5.21. THE READING PUBLIC 57 how impossible it is to issue a spirited manifesto to the workers in all lands which shall bear any relation to the truth.’”’® Another writer, and I take these references quite at random, says ‘‘ genuine lovers of reading . . . stand aghast at the morbid- ity of many modern publications.” We are told of a certain Medical Association made up of ““ Wizards, soothsayers, cure-alls, herb-doctors, advertising doctors and irregulars,’”’ and it was reported® of a certain wife who had been “a Spiritist,”” ‘* an Economite,”” ‘‘ a Mesmerist Mind- reader,” ‘‘a Fortune-teller,”” ‘‘a Christian Scientist,”’ *“ a Theosophist,”” ‘‘ a New Thought,” ‘“ a Reformed Anabaptist,” ‘‘ an Angel Dance,” and a ‘‘ Numerological,”” all in a few months, that she was more than her husband could tolerate. _ Dr Edwin Hatch* says ‘‘ an ill-informed writer may state almost any propositions he pleases, with the certainty of finding listeners; a well-informed writer may state propositions which are as demon- strably true as any historical proposition can be, with the certainty of being contradicted.” Sir Frederick Mott addressing the Medico-Psycho- logical Society, in June, 1921, spoke of ** a certain class of people whose minds are open to any sug- gestive influence, and are ever ready to run after 1 Daily Telegraph, 2.5.21. 2 Inguirer, 7.5.21. ? Daily Telegraph, 11.5.21. 4 Hibbert Lectures, p. 15, 1888. 58 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD any new craze, good or bad.”” All this is part of the democratic difficulty. Every year now when the streets are tarred, one may see men and women, who are obviously fond of their dogs, go out, without leading them, though large municipal notices are put up, ‘‘ Beware of the Tar.”” They will even cross a road and take no pains to save their dog’s feet. They know that tar is sticky, they know that tar in their houses makes marks on oil cloth and carpet, they know that the dogs will, when they get home, lick and fidget with their paws until they often ‘‘ worry ”’ sore places on them. It makes no difference, every year the same performance is repeated. The battle over the use of a baby’s dummy is another of these sheer imbecilities which are yet more than imbecilities, for people are not so unintelligent as these facts would imply. In these and similar cases there must be emotional factors which numb the intelligence. George Swinnock, one of the great Puritan Divines, said, wittily and truly, nearly two and a half centuries ago, that we often behave like ‘ a silly hen, which though much good corn lie before _ her, takes little notice of it, but still scrapes on the earth.”’! One sees a different aspect of this problem in all committee work. Miss Savill, a high school head- 1 James Nichol, Works, Vol. i., p. 71, 1868. THE READING PUBLIC 59 mistress, made a commonly confirmed statement at a conference recently! when she said ‘the formal working on a committee sometimes seemed to induce a certain mental atrophy in those who embarked upon it.”’ This is not only true of all committee work, it is true of nearly every kind of official duty, which in the end becomes cautious, non-committal and colourless. The whole problem of democracy is beset with this kind of difficulty, even down to the question of one person one vote. There are many glowing passages in literature on the dignity of voting and the ballot box, and some are in fairly good second- class poetry, but Rudyard Kipling’s description is nearer to the cold hard reality.? The man voter, and it is now a woman too— ‘“ May not know how to run his own business . . . may be pauper, half-crazed with drink, bank- rupt, dissolute, or merely a born fool, but he has a vote.”’ This seems to have been the view of the great jurisprudist, John Austin. His wife says of him : ‘“ The idea of popular legislation was to him as alarming as it was absurd, and it was precisely on account of the disastrous consequences which he was certain must result from it to the people them- selves, that he felt indignant at the uses made of 1 Times Educational Supplement, 18.6.21. ‘“Head Mistresses Conference.” 2 From Sea to Sea, 24th Chapter, 60 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD their ignorance, and the unmanly affectation of deference to their wishes by those whose duty it is to enlighten and guide them ’’ (Preface, Austin on Jurisprudence). He seems to have desired as Socrates did the same responsibility and advisory skill in the politician as in other callings. If one watches how Sunday is being spent, how the greater and sublimer parts of life are being steadily neglected, we get ample data for question- ing how far pseudo-democracy is or is not good and is or is not a true social benefit. It may be that in all ages, masses of men and women have shown these common characteristics— the masses of both sexes and all classes and occupa- tions—history makes this assumption all but certain, but the point is that now at this moment of history, the human race is committed to a full democratic ideal, and if some voices are heard, and these not the least intelligent, calling ‘‘ Watch- man, what of the Night? ’’ there is a real warning in their call. An able article in The Times Literary Supple- ment speaks of the higher appeals, which Pro- fessor Gilbert Murray has made to peoples gener- ally, and adds ‘‘ But what if the appeal fails? What if when the appeal is made to the democracy, right and reason do not prevail? >> This is the great, the supreme issue, and it makes men like 1 28th April, 1921. THE READING PUBLIC 61 Gissing, Lecky, Graham Wallas and Bryce feel more than a shiver of uncertainty. Have we lost our way? And The Times writer continues, ‘‘ Supposing things go wrong, supposing the evil forces of passion and avarice and egotism and hatred threaten to become too strong,’’ will men be found to stand like lions in the path to check retrogres- sion? Was Christ right when he pictured men and women as sheep needing a shepherd, as want- ing a real leader not a mere representative ? It is questions such as these that make the old dreamlike words of Milton’s Areopagitica and his ‘‘ easy ways to establish commonwealths ’’ seem so far distant and muffled in their appeal to us. And it is questions such as these that force us to feel that a crowd study based on an individual study of the human mind is a vital, an urgent, a fundamental need of our times. And it is ques- tions such as these that make us ask other greater questions; what is real Democracy and on what social theory, or theories, does it rest? CHAPTER VII THE BREAKDOWN OF THE RATIONALISTIC DEMOCRATIC THEORY IN considering a few of the sources of evidence which explain the growing distrust felt for the democratic appeal, I did not touch on another source of this lack of confidence—a view which sees the popular element as mainly a retrogressive one whenever social improvements are sought to be introduced. Professor White, in his interest- ing volumes on the Warfare of Science with Theology really demonstrates something else than that which he sets out to prove, he demonstrates that in theology the progressive factor is per- secuted, and this is also Spencer’s and Draper’s position; but in Science, Art, Music, Literature and social reform it is also persecuted. Hadow, for instance, speaking of the treatment of Hector Berlioz, the musician, says: ‘‘ He had kept every condition which officialism could impose, every rule which pedantry could formulate, and he lost his reward, not because his work was open 62 BREAKDOWN OF THEORY 63 to blame, but because there was not one of his critics who had enough knowledge to under- stand,”’! and he points out in study after study how the critics misunderstood the genius. He quotes with approval® Mendelssohn’s view of the general public, ‘‘ so devoid of taste, so dependent on the . . . so-called connoisseur.” Here is the inevitable conclusion that meets the real student everywhere. The more popular forces are almost always ignorant and impeding forces which are led by critics who are, as Hadow says, officialised and formalised and almost as ignorant and imped- ing, and are yet supported by those they lead in their adherence to ceremony and pedantry. So that as Maudsley truly observes ‘‘ the faithful study of human history would be calculated to demoralise human nature ’’ but for ‘‘ the redeem- ing instances of the few lives.””> It is not a question therefore of the warfare of any particu- lar -ology against science and its progress, the depressing reality of history is that the forward steps of the enlightened few tend to be resisted by the mutable many. This is especially seen in nearly all sanitary and hygienic reforms which are resisted by the many in all classes and both sexes. Now in face of this mass ignorance, this 1 W. H. Hadow, Studies in Modern Music, p. 90. First series, 1905. 2 Jbid., p. 303. 3 Last paragraph Natural Causes and Supernatural Seemings. 64 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD ignorance which will always relatively, and per- haps actually, exist and impede progress, it seems strange, beyond all words to express and all logic to explain, to found a theory of government solely upon this impeding power. It is said that voting power makes men and women responsible, but there is not the slightest evidence that even political leaders, to say nothing of the rank and file, ever equip themselves by the study of their subject to induce the voter to vote more wisely, and there is no evidence that the voter feels a responsibility for which his or her leader sees no necessity.! Indeed, the appeal to the indiscriminating or even the discriminating many, cannot be on any ground of knowledge, because as Mandell Creighton? points out in regard to books (and it is true universally) the more skilled and learned the treatment, the smaller is the circle that is likely to be reached. And this was also the opinion of men with such wide mass knowledge and experience of teaching as Pro- fessor Huxley. Not only so, but Mazzini claimed more than once that it is duties, not rights, which encourage responsibility whereas representation favours rights rather than duties. The above is 1 Even such a leader as Gladstone, for instance, always appealed to one side of the issue and to party feelings. A leader who is not partisan is almost inconceivable. 2 Historical Lectures and Addresses, p. 26, 1904. BREAKDOWN OF THEORY 63 said as expressing the exigencies of the situation, not to disparage politicians. Now it may be urged that anyone can talk and vote on ‘‘ Politics,”’ because politics is a subject which is everybody’s affair and is within every- body’s experience, but the best minds are agreed that social problems are at least as difficult as any other scientific ones, and Comte thought them more difficult because of the complexity of the subject itself, and Spencer more difficult because of the prejudices which the subject arouses, and Huxley more difficult because this science of politics has for its ideal our own destiny and we can never know what that destiny is. Therefore, it seems certain that in this subject, if anywhere, the utmost skilled information is required by the ‘many, the majority, if democracy is to succeed. But this majority has hitherto been necessarily an impeding and ignorant power, disinclined to rise out of its ignorance. How then can the rule of ‘‘ the many ’ bring anything more than anarchy, incompetence and disaster to the State? This was apparently Aristotle’s attitude, and the outlook is a far more difficult one to-day, when all our social needs are much more complex, much more technical, much more specialised, much vaster, than when Aristotle thought and wrote. John Austin held similar views. ‘‘ Profoundly con- vinced as he was of the scarcity of great ability, E 66 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD and of the still greater scarcity of a disinterested love of truth, it may easily be imagined that he regarded with a sort of horror all schemes for placing the business of legislation in the hands of large bodies of men ’’ (Preface, Austin on Juris- prudence). Let us, therefore, examine a few of the new theories which seek to justify the demo- cratic standpoint, but before doing so, let us realise what these theories need to explain. 3» THE FIRST ESSENTIAL Now in considering the claim of democracy, it must be insisted upon that this claim rests on the assumption that the wider the franchise the more direct the control of the state by the whole people, the better will be the nature of the government. But if one looks critically, soberly and dis- passionately at this claim, one sees that it must assume that there is an obscure transformation principle at work. There is no doubt about this, as the study of the multitude is one which can be made by anyone, and its features are visible everywhere. Mr Anstey in his Voces Populi humorously describes people at a ‘‘ Conjuror’s,” ““ In an Omnibus,” * At the Royal Academy,” #4 At a Dance,” “A Row in the Pit” of a theatre, ‘‘ At a Music Hall.’ One of his best sketches is on ‘‘ Bank Holiday.” It is more serious studies of this kind that we must, how- BREAKDOWN OF THEORY 67 ever, keep in mind. ‘‘' The Public House ”’ in England and what was the Saloon in America, and their counterparts in other countries, why do they attract? Political Clubs and Meetings, why is it their characteristics are so one-sided and sometimes too convivial? The typical smoking- concert, why does it lean to vulgarity just as the Music Hall and the Cinema do? What is the meaning of the inanity, the sensationalism and the absence of truth in the ordinary advertisement, and why does it pay to advertise in this manner? Why does gambling figure so largely in all forms of spectacular sports? Why do popular preachers and lecturers season their thoughts so constantly with unfitting jokes? Why is it that fiction, and that generally in the form of the °‘‘shilling shocker ”’ or ‘‘ the penny dreadful,” is the chief source of popular reading after the sensational Press? What is the source of street curiosity and of the interest in ‘‘ Tub’ oratory? And what is the intelligence and morality of many tradesmen and even professional men, seen in the desire for novelties which often are tried but not tested, revealing such men as first cousins to quacks, and why is it that O. W. Holmes’ satire is, at least, near the truth: “When legislators keep the law, When banks dispense with bolts and locks, When berries—whortle, rasp and straw— Grow bigger downwards through the box, 68 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD When he that selleth house or land, Shows leak in roof, or flaw in right, When haberdashers choose the stand Whose window hath the broadest light. When preachers tell us what they think, And party leaders what they mean— 7%// then let Cumming blaze away, And Miller's saints blow up the globe ; But when you see that blessed day, Then order your ascension robe!” (From ‘Latter-day Warnings”). This is humorous, but it is nearer to the heart of the problem than the sentimental talk that once was pleasing ‘‘ about the multitude’s aching breast ’’ or ‘‘ yearning souls bound down by slavery’s economic chains,” and about ‘thrills of joy that run prophetic trembling on from East to West,” and of ‘“ Woman’s universal mother- hood,” etc.! These less pleasant characteristics of most men and women are what made Gissing feel abhorrence when he contemplated them as multitudes. But democracy must transform such weaknesses if it is to succeed. It would not be true, however, to think too ill of either ourselves or our fellow-men and women; the old contempt for the multitude was as silly as last century's sentimentality. There is a trust- worthiness in the ordinary man, and the broad 1 It has been suggested to me that ‘‘ Prohibition” in the United States shows a reverse tendency; it may be so, if there goes with it a moral uplifting, and not abuses spreading to other fields, as Shadwell suggests, in Spain and Turkey. BREAKDOWN OF THEORY 69 reliability of all classes of workers in industry is a reality far more impressive than it is usually considered to be. That, on the whole, we can depend on all car and rail drivers and our sailors on the sea as implicitly as we do, is a very remark- able proof of reliability ; that food and clothing are not more tampered with; that for the most part, suspicion is as bad and silly an attitude as gulli- bility, these are strong, weighty realities on the credit side of humanity. But it is when we try to build up a theory of government upon them that the difficulties begin. Given the general level of intelligence of what is called the man and the woman of the street, how can we assert that the wider the franchise, the more direct the control, the better will be the nature of the government? No observation, not a single one, scientifically interpreted, of the multitude of men and women justifies this extra- ordinary optimism, and therefore all the best modern democratic views rest on the assumption of a transformation which takes place when men and women are considered in the mass or acting together as distinct from singly; this implies the abandonment of the simple view and is the first essential. THE SECOND ESSENTIAL It may be said that such conclusions are vo SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD extremely depressing; that even if true, there can be no use in dwelling on this side of human nature; that all educational efforts will suffer if it is once recognised how little mankind profits from such efforts; that religious appeals will cease if it is known that the many lives in all ages and climes have been so unsatisfactory; that even the pursuit of science and truth will be abandoned if it is accepted that intellectual capacity is commonly perverted by feelings of all kinds, such as family affections, or the ambitions arising out of lust of power, seniority and self-seeking. This is not so, however; Shakespeare saw clearly and accurately that it is the unworthy and incompetent view of mankind, both personal and social, which sees only the obvious and superficial in human motives; that to see life too simply is, in fact, to see it both meanly and falsely; we need not, therefore, fear a critical examination of the data upon which the claims for social reform are based. The complexity of human nature and of human affairs demands a less immature view for their comprehension, and the new psychological and biological attitudes are the beginnings of an attempt to sense mind from a larger standpoint. On the human horizon we are probably near a change as tremendous as that which helped Kepler and Newton to get away from the conception of ‘‘ canopy,” ‘‘ o’erhanging firmament,”” ‘‘ this i BREAKDOWN OF THEORY 71 majestical roof ’’ as descriptions of the vast immensity called sky, so that the problems of astronomic space could be better appreciated, or like another change which Lyell laid bare by the discovery of the stupendous antiquity of Time. Such an expansion of spiritual vision should not excite apprehension, but it should help us all to realise that the first essential in modern political study is the abandonment of the simple confined prospect and the realisation of indirect processes at work, and that the second essential is the recognition that by this abandonment we step out into unfamiliar scenery and need new charts and sign-posts to discover our whereabouts, which before, from our previous limitations, were not required. Hitherto ‘‘the making of nations’ has been looked upon in much the same simple way as the making by a carpenter of a piece of furniture, namely, as a plain matter of obvious human con- trivance, but what is now coming to be realised, however dimly as yet, is the presence of a distant background region of Natural Law which lies behind and governs the tiny foreground of per- sonal and social human effort to which we have all been used. It is this distant background which gives to the gaze of the modern student the recog- nition of huge regions as yet untrodden to which our own past studies have been little more than a 72 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD very obvious and not altogether trustworthy fore- court of inquiry. The new ground is broken when we once realise this, and it will be found on inquiry that for nearly two to three hundred years this governing background, itself perhaps the scientific heir of the older Providentialism, has been increasingly recog- nised. Great students saw and see, like Moni- esquieu, a ‘‘ Spirit of Laws ’’ which is behind the human legislators though they know it not; like Maine, they see an Ancient Law which reveals and determines modern law; like Vico, a Providence which works through men’s and women’s actions; like Comte and Spencer, stages of culture and laws of progress; like Hegel, a Real Will behind our transient impulses ; like Gladstone, a purpose which is behind the endless, wordy, and often seemingly meaningless, political contentiousness of men and women, directing society towards something better than this contentiousness; like Kipling, a far-call of empires and, perhaps, of personal human life which gives dignity and value to what often seems undignified and valueless. Once catch this vision and the teaching of Bentham and other rational- ists, however useful and practical this teaching may be for the moment, shrinks before one’s mind’s eye to very insignificant proportions and never afterwards regains its magnitude. Once clearly realise the complexities of our own 3 BREAKDOWN OF THEORY 73 human natures and their resulting frailties, and that our minds are not less but greater because of them; once realise that society because of these multiform social interactions depends on natural laws rather than human intriguing and endeav- ours, and instead of depression a new vigour is given us, because human issues are raised to a more than human horizon. We pass from the social nursery into the great arena of social life and know that as there are courses for the stars and planets, evolution in life-forms up to man, so even in human history there are majestic cosmic fulfilments. It is unavoidable that with this shrinkage of the old view, simple claims that the education of humanity will make men and women rational; that giving every adult human creature a vote will reform the world; or that the payment of a living wage or the raising of the school age, or both together, will make men act wisely and honourably for ever more; these simple claims cease to fascinate us, and all utopian dreams seem at once chimerical, and the old political theorist of the Mill and Mazzini schools is thus separated from the new by almost the widest and most unbridgeable of gulfs; but the point is, that in this new and very much wider outlook, old boundaries have to be cast away and new paths, new land- marks, milestones and sign-posts have to be set up. 24 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD As examples of this new position, I can only touch upon Rousseau’s, Hegel’s and Gladstone’s teachings, as their views lead naturally to crowd investigations and principles, and help us to realise the path on which Modern Democracy may be started, but even in these examples the simple old-fashioned prospect is left behind and the un- familiar, with all its strangeness and yet absorb- ing interest, is before us. APPENDIX Difficulties, which a democratic theory of popular government must meet. Compiled from Austin’s ““ Jurisprudence.”’ Second Edition. Mr Austin is really much nearer to those who have given up rationalism as the basis of govern- ment, than he was himself aware of. Although admiring Locke and Bentham, he sees the difficulty of popular appeal far more clearly than they do. He claims ‘‘ that the ignorance of the multitude is not altogether invincible *’; that ‘‘ the multitude might clearly understand the elements or ground- work of the science [of Ethics] together with the more momentous of the derivative practical truths. To that extent they might be freed from the dominion of authority; from the necessity of BREAKDOWN OF THEORY 75 blindly persisting in hereditary opinions and practices; or of turning and veering, for waht of directing principles, with every wind of doctrine.’’* This is not a very hopeful basis for a democratic theory, but his wife adds® in a note: *‘ The experi- ence of the thirty years which have elapsed since the foregoing lecture was written does not seem to justify the author’s sanguine anticipation of the effects of the spread of education among the people.” This note was written in 1861, it is even more true in 1922. It is here claimed that Mr Austin would almost certainly have abandoned his rationalistic position were he living now, and that what he concedes is virtually Gladstone’s attitude, to be considered later, and that no rationalistic theory of democracy could be founded on the summary of Mr Austin’s position given below. 1. Individual Influence Almost Negligible. #$ The powers of single individuals are feeble and poor, though the powers of conspiring numbers are gigantic.’’? Comment. Mr Austin here refers to the ordin- ary man, not the genius and talented man ; see the next point. The above was written in 1832, but the vast trade combines and trusts and workers’ trade unions, as well as all large-scale production, have shown that the power of the single individual is declining even more than he contemplated. 1 P, 65.6. 2 P. 74. 5: P. 450, v6 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD 2. The Small Mental Capacity of the Citizen. Austin’s ‘‘ estimate of men was low.” : ‘“ He had followed, step by step, the progress of the great minds by which systems of law had been, through ages, slowly and painfully elabor- ated; and the project of submitting these highest products of the human intellect, or the difficult problems they deal with, to the judgment and the handling of uneducated masses, seemed to him a return to barbarism.’’! Comment. In this also, Austin was before his time, as recent observations and psychological tests show. The mental capacity of the ordinary citizen appears to be not much above a fourteen-year-old standard. See Binet-Simon literature in France, America and Great Britain. 3. The Unreliability of Knowledge. *‘ Little of any man’s knowledge is gotten by original research. It mostly consists of results . . . taken upon testimony.’’* 4. Prejudice and Bias. (a) In leaders of men. Sinister interests or prejudices begotten by such interests are the driving motives of most popular leaders of men who are ‘‘ advocates rather than inquirers.’’® (b) The ignorance of the led. 1 Pp. xxix. and xxx. 2p. 156, 3P 57 BREAKDOWN OF THEORY 77 ““ Now how can the bulk of mankind who have little opportunity for research compare the respec- tive merits of these varying and hostile opinions.’"! ‘“ But those numerous classes of the community were commonly too coarse and ignorant to care for books '’? of a socially informing character. (c) Even the writer is untrustworthy. Such authors, depending on a few influential critics and a narrow range of readers, know *‘ that a fraction of the community can make or mar their reputation, they unconsciously or purposely accommodate their conclusions to the prejudices of that narrower public. Or, to borrow the expressive language of this greatest and best of philosophers [John Locke] ‘they begin with espousing the well-endowed opinions in fashion; and, then, seek arguments to show their beauty, or to varnish and disguise their deformity.’ ”’? (d) All minds are perverted by their particular social situations. ‘“ For every man’s public is formed of his own class : of those with whom he associates : of those whose favourable or unfavourable opinion sweetens or imbitters his life.’ If these positions that Mr Austin thus main- tains as being representative of social opinion are even approximately true, it is clear that no theory 1P 57 2 p. 69. 3 Pp, 6S. 4. P.63 v8 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD of popular or even any form of government, which rests directly on the conscious intelligence of a people, or of a class, is possible. If popular or class governments are successful in spite of the above-mentioned drawbacks, it must be because of some indirect social laws which transmute such desire-governed opinions and tendencies into more impartial and scientific fulfilments. New and less elementary theories are therefore required to explain social activity. PART UI NEW THEORIES OF POPULAR GOVERNMENT CHAPTER Vii} THE NEW POLITICAL PERSPECTIVE OF ROUSSEAU, HEGEL AND GLADSTONE THE peculiarity of Rousseau’s, Hegel’s and Glad- stone’s views of society is that they seek a general subordinating principle which while it dominates the individual wills yet harmonises them. It is not, however, that this power destroys each individual will, but rather that in the collective ensemble all are transformed. Each writer recog- nises that the opinions of the typical citizen, per- haps of any citizen, are insufficient for the task asked of them. That besides the belief that each member of a community feels that his or her opinion directly counts—a belief which is largely erroneous—there is an unconscious role for this personal opinion which is of real, though indirect, value as it helps to form a social will which is superior to the different wills which compose it. Rousseau’s general will does not necessarily assume any power higher than man, it simply suggests that man’s collective intelligence is 81 F 82 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD superior to his particular intelligence, but Hegel and Gladstone do assume that either in some absolute reality or some Providence there is a greater power than the powers of individual men and women directing human destiny. Thomas Huxley’s mind, as anyone may realise who studies his writings, was, like Matthew Arnold’s, torn between the attraction of two con- flicting yet interacting tendencies: (1) a natural process which often bewildered, sometimes horrified and as often inspired him; (2) a human process which he felt he understood, and sometimes set above nature in claiming it to be ethical, and some- times below nature in having both insufficient power and intelligence. Yet there was almost always an undercurrent which caused him to feel that human effort must always be subservient to natural law, and this subservience was often accepted with an exultant joy. There are a great many passages in Huxley's works which assume the insufficiency of men and women to organise their own social life. Huxley’s claim, that man, if he obeys nature's laws, can be a master gardener to the plants and animals which he cultivates, because he knows what kinds of plants and animals he requires, but that he“can never be a master gardener to himself because he cannot rise above his nature and see what is needed, is a striking admission. In another place NEW POLITICAL PERSPECTIVE 83 he compares social life to a game of chess, in which opposite to each man and woman is the Almighty Player of nature, and in his letters to Kingsley, many passages come very close indeed to the full acceptance of a providential guidance. To under- stand our social and personal destinies, therefore, an attempt must be made to reach this real con- trolling power, and hence the interpretation of it is a matter of first importance. Hegel and Glad- stone, like Vico, both appeared to recognise to the full the inadequacy of individual man’s own ambi- tions and even intelligence (as who does not who reads human history attentively), they felt like the old Stoics that we are actors in a drama, the great- ness of which will always be super-human, and that we must act the parts given to us, but they were unlike them in that they sought the Master Dramatist’s instructions. This search for the Master Gardener’s or the Master Dramatist’s teachings, and the assumption that these teachings are of much greater theoretical, and even practical, importance than our own human speculations, brings the study of society into line with other sciences, since instead of trying first to make social laws of our own regardless of scientific social ones, we do as the astronomer and the biologist do, we first study Nature's laws and then) and not until then, strive to work within the limits of the sphere that Nature informs us are the 84 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD real and true ones. To see ourselves thus objec- tively is what, whether they knew it or not, Hegel and Gladstone strove to help us to realise. This aspect may be reached from another, and simply personal, approach. Adelaide Proctor’s words in The Lost Chord almost certainly owe their popularity to the general expression of a very common personal experience which is reached in middle life, when actual knowledge of human affairs has taught us—if we are capable of learning and many are not—that life is not so simple as we think it to be in youth. We are tired, over- burdened with circumstance and ill at ease; and we begin to feel we have lost our ambitions and have nothing to put in their places; conditions are awry with us, and out of this discordance we strive to find some distant harmonious echo, a message, a social harmony in life, which we may not at first have heard, because we have been too much like members of an orchestra who are too intent on their own parts and do not sufficiently notice the general orchestral effect. A more commonplace description of the same mental experience is given when we say we cannot see the wood for the trees. Politicians, as well as private citizens, have hitherto heard only the several parts in the orchestra, they have never tried to discover the effect the whole social orchestra was producing; they have studied the relation of different trees to each other, they NEW POLITICAL PERSPECTIVE 85 have not tried to find out what the shape of the whole wood is. To strive thus to detach oneself and see more adequately is the object of the most intelligent social theorists. This view is not only reached by the politician, and from a personal experience of human affairs by all of us, it is seen also by the modern psycho- logical social student. He sees a very large field of human consciousness and the resulting social activity as just a blind following of desire; as pigeons associate with pigeons, rather than with rooks or starlings because of common food aims and similarity of habits of flight, etc., so men and women associate and form their social life on a common behaviourism of desire which has almost nothing to do with thought. When these desires conflict, biases are aroused and irrational likes and dislikes are manifested. © Why do these desires which are so complex and wayward, seemingly so incalculable, not result in social chaos? He sees there is the power of social convention and that to some extent conventions and laws grow out of a real teaching of experience, a social educa- tive inheritance, scientifically measurable, and in this inheritance geographic, industrial and trading experiences as well as those of manners and polite- ness all play their part. But looking dispassion- ately at this conventional side of life, its logical absurdities seen in dress, food, work and courtesies, 86 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD in medical quackery, sensationalism and irrespon- sible as well as responsible emotion and thought, it will be seen that they probably far outweigh, or at least equal, the really profitable power of custom. And though such absurdities no doubt have psychological significance, yet it is not a rational significance. Why, therefore, is conven- tionalism on the whole a law-making influence and not a chaotic one? Accepting, what some authorities would deny, the reality of conscience with its intuitive morality as an uplifting force of our minds, it seems certain that its teaching, while it has a general common trend, is yet so individual in its application as to lead to diversity rather than conformity of ethical action. What power is it, therefore, other than conscience which persistently works in the direction of a mational, international and human moral solidarity 2 And more difficult question still, what aggregat- ing, transcendent harmonising influence is it which gives some unity of achievement to all of these activities, to wayward desire, ever-changing and often grotesque fashion, and conscience with its individual appeal ? These are questions the modern psychological student asks and finds no solution in rationalism. Jeremy Taylor would have replied, *‘ The divine gift of human reason,” but the study of human NEW POLITICAL PERSPECTIVE. 3% history shows that dispassionate unbiassed thought is of the utmost rarity, and that the little thought there is in the world is for the most part grossly sophisticated and partisan, and is the desire-driven tool of men’s and women’s, as well as children’s, inclinations and not their disinterested guide. What then are the forces which, in spite of counter tendencies, on the whole are powerful enough to be ascendant civilising instruments? The social student who looks at human life spectacularly as a detached but sympathetic scientific inquirer seems compelled to conclude that there are as powerful natural social laws, not yet discovered, which govern human society, as there are natural physical and biological laws which govern what is possibly wrongly called ‘‘ inert matter active processes of life. From the ‘ contract’ teaching of Locke to Bentham, the trend of inquiry has been to find the motives of social evolution within the self-conscious activities of man; this is what the ordinary politician and private citizen still seek. From Montesquieu and Blackstone to the most recent crowd psychologists the tendency is, while not ignoring this self-directing power of man, to seek for dominating natural social laws outside of and controlling man’s self-conscious activities. These two schools have at present no common meeting ground. The naturalistic and ascendant ” and the obviously $8 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD school of social students finding all self-guiding and self-reasoning processes of men and women quite inadequate to explain the social order, looks for some principle above man’s intelligence and mental capacity to explain why human society exists and evolves. Rousseau, in spite of his fallacious belief in the social contract origin of society, yet felt this need and was the first explorer of a new and vast domain. CHAPTER IX ROUSSEAU’S GENERAL AND OTHER SOCIAL WILLS ROUSSEAU, as all students know, did not discipline his mind, and, except in his teaching of a general will, his outlook was not original. He borrowed very extensively from Locke, and often perverted his teaching; from other British and Continental writers, and he often took no trouble to harmonise quite contradictory borrowings. Rousseau, in his ‘‘ social contract ’’ theories, belongs to the old political school; in his doctrine of social wills, as distinct from, but growing out of personal wills, he is a pioneer of the new. He faced both West and East indiscriminately and did not ask if his action was inconsistent. He is not alone in this inconsistency, he was and is popular because of it. But his pitfall must be noticed and avoided. To a restrained and disciplined mind, like that of Socrates’ or Locke’s, an intelligently arranged, concensus government growing out of 89 go SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD the rationally guided wills of its citizens, was easily imaginable and not improbable; to a mind like Rousseau’s, only a little less intelligent but undisciplined, wilful and wayward, full of whims and vagaries, such a dream, probably even from his first thoughts on the subject would have been rejected as impossible, because in this respect Rousseau’s mind was far nearer than that of Socrates and Locke to the ordinary man’s and woman’s with their impulse activity. In any case, Rousseau seems to have been the first who saw the necessity for some supra-personal socially govern- ing principle. Hobbes, like many other political writers, believed that some kind of autocratic power is necessary in order for government to exist at all, and Locke was, perhaps, the first exponent of a democratic policy. But Locke’s democracy was a moral acceptance by the many of an intelligence which came from the governing few, not an intelli- gence of the many directing a policy which was only carried out by the representing few. Rous- seau neither accepted the intelligence of the few nor of the many, and, while he followed Locke's democratic impulse, he discovered another principle of guidance which he thought would allow the people as a whole to rule without their conflicting desires wrecking the State. Rousseau appears to have been the first to see clearly, though he does ROUSSEAU’S WILLS 91 not always distinguish them clearly, that there are four modes of human action in society involving four types of intelligence, and yet all four arising quite naturally out of the ordinary human mind. There is the particular will of the individual. Rousseau had an adequate appreciation of the fact that this particular will is subject to selfish desires of an anti-social character and to impulses which are so blind and almost incalculable because of their unreasonableness and unreliability that they can neither be inferred by logic nor predicted by science and are very unlikely to arrive at workable concordats by any simple processes of addition. But he also realised that there is what may be called an institutional will, which, whenever a public body is elected for a given purpose, tends to act as a unity and that its activities are likely to be different from the wishes of any single member of that body. He realised that, what to-day would be called team work and team intelligence, is not the same kind of work or intelligence as the work or the intelligence of the several members of that team; that how people act together is a different problem from the simpler one of how they act separately. He also believed that the general will of numbers is not simply an addition will, that numbers moderate excessive demands of dominant members and that where numbers exist, disin- terested influences predominate and, as he thought, 92 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD natural goodness of humanity asserts itself. In all this, Rousseau was something of a pioneer as also in his insistence on the inborn natural healthi- ness of the human mind (though he confused together the healthy and the primitive). In his realisation that society is confronted with (1) particular, (2) institutional or team, (3) general and (4) addition, he may with some justice be called a kind of unconscious godfather of the science of sociology, as it is the grouping tendencies of human beings that is the central concern of this science; and such problems need a careful psycho- logical study which perhaps this century may take in hand. Rousseau was, however, ‘‘ speaking as a fool,” in the Pauline sense, when he claimed that institu- tional or team and general wills are capable of giving society an elevated disinterested govern- ment. He made, in fact, egregious omissions in his assumptions. He never asked What kind of leadership a typical general assembly of people tends to tolerate? How the appeal of intelligence is altered and this not for the better but for the worse, by its being a general and not a specialist assembly? How to keep the intelligence of a specialist grouping and yet avoid its partisanship ? These were questions that were probably not even seen by the Franco-Swiss thinker. In particular he ignored the stimulus to the already strong ROUSSEAU’S WILLS 03 personal tendencies of sensationalism and lust of power which the mere bringing of people together arouses, and missed also the counterpoise of the effect of non-democratic influences in favouring individuality of mind and meditation, without which true thought and deep feeling are well-nigh impossible; while he failed to realise that awful indifference, that inborn turpitude and ineptitude of the many, that spiritual inertia which combined with the deadening effect of custom daunts the spirit of the bravest and most intelligent reformer when he once faces it. Bentham and Austin seem to have had similar fallacious dreams when they wrote of general happiness, utility or good ideals, which do not coincide with each other, and if they did, have no general embodiment. Sir John Simon in his classic Reports relating to The Sanitary Condition of the City of London, p. 44, for the years 1849-52 says, ardent reformer though he was, ‘‘ there do dwell whole hordes of persons, who struggle so little in self-defence against that which surrounds them, that they may be considered almost indifferent to its existence, or almost acclimated to endure its continuance,’’ and anyone who takes the trouble to read social history carefully, and study men and women of to-day will find that these whole hordes of indiffer- ent men and women who acoept what they are used to and reject what is not usual, are in all classes 94 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD and stations of life one of the most formidable problems for all welfare workers and especially for believers in democracy. Mr John Dunlop, a very cautious and experienced observer of men and women, remarks: ‘‘ In every community (that ever I met with) there exists always a great mass of inertia, stupidity and brutish appetite ’’ (W. Logan, Early Heroes of the Temperance Reforma- tion, p. 49). It would be easy to demonstrate how widespread in Time, in national and class outlooks is the evidence of the existence of a very large majority of the population which is almost always desire-governed and in many instances is imper- vious to any desire but that which effects the self. The seventh chapter of George Herbert's 4 Priest to the Temple is a naked avowal of the many inducements a preacher needs to fall back upon if he would hope to catch the popular ear. The book written about 1630 runs parallel with recent war experiences in nearly all countries. Thus Neville S. Talbot in Thoughts on Religion at the Front (p. 10) states: ‘‘ There is a great heart in the people. It is not a great mind.”” Intellect is here meant. ‘‘ Englishmen [says Oswin Creighton, Letters, p. 230] . . . do not think and never have thought,” and he assumes French, Russians and Germans do. But a study of international war books shows that each country notes its own lack. The comparative scholarliness of Germany is not Se ROUSSEAU’S WILLS 05 disputed, yet Dr Muehlon in his Diary speaks of the *‘ thoughtless stupidity,” *‘ the victims of their craving for sensation,’ as describing the attitude of the ordinary individual of all classes, while Barbusse in Under Fire shows like qualities for the French. I suggest that in peace and war those qualities are always there and have been strangely overlooked in political theory. Rousseau looked at human nature through ‘‘ roseate ’’ tinted glasses; he, like the ‘‘ New England Poets ”’ did not dare to see men and women as they really are, nor even look too closely into the nature of his own mind. The institutionalising of the mind does not have the effect of uplifting but of deadening it; the limited liability of the committee member, of the company promoter, of the member of any public body, does not make the liability a higher one though it limits and changes its aim; in short there is no evidence for the assumption that the general mind is higher in its manifestations than the particular mind. Rousseau saw rightly when he realised that particular, institutional, general, and addition wills are all different, and in realising this difference he contributed a new outlook for social research; but when he claimed that institutional and general wills are able to correct the social ills that men and women are heir to, he wrote wildly and with- out any data. But someone may ask is it necessary that the social effort should be better than the o6 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD individual effort, if this really be social effort and therefore different from particular effort will it not explain social activity? Rousseau did not ask this. None the less it is as an exploring mind, with its vision of an unexplored panorama, that he will be remembered. CHAPTER X HEGEL’S ‘‘ REAL ’’ AND INCIDENTAL WILLS For Chapters X and XI the following? diagram may be of assistance to the reader :(— RoOUsSEAU’s WILLS HEGEL'S WILLS Personal golne denial 3a Incidental Institutional < Real Social { Addition ; Incidental General ZT Real Hegel's teaching seems to divide all wills, except the addition will, into Incidental and Real. DEFINITIONS OF WILLS, Personal or particular. The individual will. Social, comprising (a) Institutional or team traditions. (6) General, expression of national conven. tions. (c) Addition, being only the expression of a numerical majority. The term “will” is of questionable psychology, some word expressive of consensus activity would no doubt be better. I HAVE ventured to use the word ‘‘ incidental ’ instead of the word ‘‘ actual ’’ as opposed to Hegel’s other term of *‘ real,” as it seems to me to express more clearly Hegel’s attitude. His con- 97 G 98 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD tribution raises a different view from that of Rous- seau, though no doubt he was greatly helped by him. Hegel, like Rousseau, abandons the contention that Politics is simply a vote-seeking and vote- counting process; he, even more than Rousseau, sees the incapacity of the ordinary man and woman to cope self-consciously with the political task. When, then, was Hegel's teaching? I am, of course, not here concerned with the complicated philosophy of Hegel, or even with his idea of State sovereignty, any more than with Rousseau’s; what for the moment is the issue is that Hegel, like Rousseau, sees the necessity of an indirect process which, as it were, sublimates, changes and raises individual activities. Hegel begins by assuming that there are in our natures two kinds of will, or perhaps it would be truer to say two manifestations of the same will; the real will, deep, constant, abiding, and the incidental or momentary will. There is the parti- cular or personal will with these two manifestations, and in addition there is the social will also with these two manifestations, so that the teaching of incidental and real wills is added to Rousseau’s conceptions. There is no antagonism, only a further development of the general position. Mr H. A. L. Fisher has a statement in his Essex Hall Lecture on ‘‘ Orthodoxy ’’ which explains HEGEL'S WILLS 99 Hegel's outlook, though it was not written in rela- tion to his teaching. ‘‘ To disengage the per- manent, the fundamental . . . from the transitory and variable embodiments . . . to note what characteristics . . . are fashioned by historic accident . . . and what characteristics on the contrary are rooted in the deep subsoil of humanity, is perhaps the greatest function which the historian is called upon to perform.’ Here are assumed, as almost axiomatic, three proposi- tions: (1) That there is a surface state of the mind, an incidentalism which has the appearance of historic accident. (2) That there is a deeper and nobler reality which directs this incidentalism and which it is the business of the historical student to interpret. (3) That there is an unknow- able rock of reality below the subsoil not compre- hensible to our minds. Hegel is concerned with the first two. No great thinker ever puts forward a view that is fundamentally stupid, and this claim of Hegel's rests on a very real foundation and has some strong evidence in support of it. First, let us consider the realities of these real and incidental tendencies in the individual man and in society, admitting that the word ‘‘ will *’ is open to criticism. It is evident if one thinks of one’s friends or of oneself, or reads a good comprehensive biography ! Orthodoxy, pp 12-13. 100 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD that these real and incidental manifestations are easily observable. Perhaps there are few better examples than that of Dr Samuel Johnson. Here was a man capable of saying, and who frequently did say, words with the sharpest of stings in them; but for the most part, people understood that behind this rough, moody and changeable exterior was a kindly, inspiring, reliable personality. In Johnson as in most, if not all, men and women, the contrast between these two so-called wills is self- evident and it is also, of course, evident that the relatively constant real will rules over the incidental. But the position even here is not so simple as it looks. The real will is constant in some lives, it is strangely different at different ages in others, and if it is different rather than progres- sive, what becomes of the uplifting power of the real will? But even the incidental will is not always inferior to the real will. Dr Martineau has defined these changes of our moods as ‘‘ tides of the spirit ’’ and these ebb and flow in moments of small and great ‘“ aspiration ’’ and inspiration,’’ hence the incidental is sometimes far above the real constant character, it may even inspire it and lead to a higher level of constancy. And though it may be probably truly said that the healthy unfolding of X ! In some minds it is not the contrast but the amplifica- tion that one notices. HEGEL'S WILLS" 7" “ge the stages of human life from the cradle to rich green old age, manifests a real will or tendency which is ever reaching greater and greater mental or spiritual heights, yet this healthy unfolding is the exception rather than the rule, and what no one knows is how far the tides of the incidental will, in their ebb and flow, influence this final result. Now, as Professor Hobhouse! urges, it is when we attempt to bridge the chasm between the Personal and the Social Incidental and Real wills, that the difficulty begins. It is fairly easy to see that there is some con- census of social tradition or heritage, and that this, as many writers, and lately Professor Graham Wallas, have pointed out, is very large, but what evidence is there that the real will of the individual and the real will or constant tendency of the nation correspond ?* If they do not correspond, there is great injustice in majority rule, and, moreover, the real and incidental wills of any society would always seem to be below the real and incidental® wills of the healthy individual, because the real and incidental social wills could not rise above the highest common denominator of the uniting forces of the personal human mind, but must always * The Metaphysical Theory of the State. 3¢ In fact it is most often in abnormal circumstances, such as war, that a true common will emerges” (Sociological Review, Vol. xiii., p. 131). * Only the incidental in moments of inspiration. #9 “102” SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD tend to be lower, and this is what crowd experience confirms. A political audience may have an intense, it seldom has an exalted feeling, unless the orator is, as it was said Gladstone was, able to make his own feelings reverberate in those men and women to whom he was speaking; but is it the social general will which achieves this? Have we not better examples of the social wills in such” gatherings as an army, or a meeting of trades unionists, or a formal meeting of some financial company where common interests unite and direct masses of men and women? Have we any reason to believe these common calls are more exalted than individual ones? I think it must be said that the reverse is the case. In war, as in peace, great acts of heroism and sacrifice are usually individual personal acts, though they may or may not have the social will behind them. In the acting together of a body of men, let us say in order to succeed in a forlorn hope, it is likely that the madness of a courageous despair will lead them to deeds of extreme power, or if fear catches them, of extreme panic; but it is doubtful if in these moods, such a body of individuals ever acts with that sublimer mercy or sacrifice that one solitary soldier will deliberately tender to a wounded com- rade or even to a fallen enemy. Lowell says, and history confirms his assertion, that the brave man chooses the side of Truth or HEGEL'S WILLS 103 any other good ideal at a time when the multitude of comrades or associates stand aside or even oppose, and that this brave man or a small group of brave men, stand on the unpopular side, till the “ multitude make virtue of the faith they had denied.” If this is human history, what becomes of the plea that the social real wills exalt the personal real one? Facts are, however, the court of appeal, and even if they are seemingly contradictory, we must recognise them. Lowell, to quote once more from his poem The Present Crisis, says, ‘‘ Truth for ever on the scaffold, wrong for ever on the throne, yet the scaffold sways the future.” Is this an example of the social general real will leading upwards and influencing both the personal incidental and real wills and the general incidental will? To take again Hadow’s quotation from Mendelssohn and give it in full as Hadow gives it. Mendelssohn writes : ““ That which is called ‘ the public’ is exactly the same here as elsewhere and everywhere : the simple public assembled together for an instant, so fluctuating, so full of curiosity, so devoid of taste, so dependent on the judgment of the musician— the so-called connoisseur.” Disregarding the assertion that the public is the same in France as in England or America, or 104 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD similar to the public in a Kaffir kraal; disregard- ing this assertion, have we in this fluctuating, unreliable public an example of the general incidental will? And when Mendelssohn con- tinues, ‘‘ But against this we must set the great public, assembling year after year, wiser and more just than connoisseur and musician, and judging so truly and feeling so delicately,’”’ have we an example of Hegel's general real will rising above both personal wills (real and incidental), more certain, more constant, more dominating and up- lifting in its power ? Mendelssohn wrote this in 1846, Hegel died in 1831. It is unlikely that Mendelssohn read Hegel or that if he did, he was thinking of him when he wrote those words to Jenny Lind, and yet they state in two contrasted sentences all that Hegel seemed to have intended. Bring, Hegel would claim, our little personal incidental and real wills, and the social incidental wills of a nation or humanity nearer to the social real wills that voice Time’s testimony, and you will, you must, make discords cease and win over a nation or humanity to the goal of progress. Lord Haldane in an extremely informing little book on Higher Nationality seems to assume that Hegel meant by his social real wills, kinds of crystallised social conventions and traditions, he speaks of ‘‘ The system of ethical habit in HEGEL'S WILLS 105 a community. . . . There may be a low level . and we have the spectacle of nations which have even degenerated in this respect. It may possibly conflict with law and morality, as in the case of the duel. But when its level is high in a nation, we admire the system, for we see it not only guiding a people and binding them together for national effort, but affording the most real freedom of thought and action for those who in daily life habitually act in harmony with the general will.” Haldane gives the example of Socrates when he is unjustly and unsocially condemned by the Athenian state and could escape and would not, as obeying the social real will in sacrificing him- self for its ideals, but I think in Socrates’ mind there would be three distinct elements. 1. There would be the better social conventions of Athens, which would suggest to Socrates that he must act as an Athenian free man and as an Athenian philosopher, and not ‘“ play truant,” when the hour of peril comes. It is a convention, as Ruskin says, for soldiers and doctors, and policemen and firemen, not to desert their respective posts in times of peril. These are conventions, or Rousseau’s social wills, which may be compelling and either high * Higher Nationality, pp. 25-26. 106 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD or low. But it would not be Mendelssohn’s greater public that qualitatively selects the geniuses age by age, and, where it is strong, uplifts a nation. When Haldane continues and quotes the words Socrates says, he seems to feel, I think, that the second element in Socrates’ decision is begin- ning to influence him. This second element is not any one of Hegel's social real wills, but Socrates’ personal real will that addresses him. 2. ‘“ Listen, Socrates, to us who have brought you up.”’ I don’t think Socrates meant any conventions by this expression, but the invisible call of greatness that came from the visible signs of the great minds of the past. These minds, like Dante’s noble shades, seemed to fuse into one great appeal, ““ Do not fail us,” and Socrates continues, ““ This is the voice which I seem to hear murmuring in my ears . . . and prevents me from hearing any other.” 3. Lastly, in Socrates’ trial, he uses the reverse simile; ¢ the voice ’’ is silent as it only is when it need not warn him; there is the peace and rest of a still and quiet conscience in his own soul, and so with the better social conventions (Rousseau’s social general will), with the call of the personal real will and with the silent small voice all in agreement, he takes his course and abides his fate. HEGEL’S WILLS 107 Now, the first of these elements is undoubtedly social in this, that the conventions are the tested and proved workings of a social body of men and women. The second element is the social- and world-past of the great minds speaking immaterially to those present minds that are great enough to listen to them ; this is the personal real will at its highest, and is truly aristocratic in that it is the great of the past speaking to the best and the better of to-day; by the multitude it would be scarcely heard. The third element is ‘‘ the voice > which prob- ably all hear in moments of moral indecision and which, if one refuses to listen to it, becomes more and more inaudible. It is an individual intuition almost exclusively. It seems that this thought of Hegel’s has opened up great issues in regard to ideals of social progress. 1. It looks as if there is a personal real will in every human character to which the fleeting incidental will, mostly a wayward one, should con- form, but occasionally its exalted activity should be dominating. 2. That there are conventional social traditions or wills, the good taste of a society, the custom of an institution, which are the sublimated and ‘relatively constant guides or wills of individual 108 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD citizens in civic matters. These may or may not tend to rise with democratic institutions and they are kinds of social ‘‘ jumping off ”’ platforms for each member of the community. It is this principle that Dr F. H. Hayward would seek to make as conscious and as effective as possible by school celebrations, etc. 3. There is the law of righteousness written in a man’s or woman’s soul. And great and magnificent sources of social power as these are, I think it must be said at present that Hegel’s theory of Social Real Wills is not yet fully substantiated; that so far as it is, it does not yet afford any support to the view that a widening system of representation tends to uplift a nation, though it does raise questions of the utmost importance for all societies. OTHER CrOwWD, PoPULAR AND HERD VIEWS OF SOCIETY I have not space to touch on such views as those of Professor Robert Michels who assumes an inevitable oligarchical tendency in democracy. But in the main it may be stated that there is no * Lecky, History of England in the Eighteenth Century, Vol. vi., Chapter XVIII, says, ‘All nations are in truth governed by aristocracies ’’; he means autocracies and Bryce seems to hold a similar opinion. HEGEL'S WILLS 109 existing theory that can, so far as it seeks to explain democracy, be called scientific. It does not, of course, follow that because no democratic theory of society is forthcoming there- fore no social theory of the people’s influence and value in public life is obtainable. It has become almost an axiom, especially since Herbert Spencer sought to show how public social conditions are related to the individual effort of genius and even partly explain it, to make the people the centre of most social inquiries and even to claim that genius is only the expression of the mass life. But ‘‘ Popular’’ and ‘‘ Great Man ’’ views of society may both be held without upholding either democratic or aristocratic views. CHAPTER XI GLADSTONE’S POLITICAL SUPRA-HUMANISM HUXLEY, in his fascinating book, Evolution and Ethics, which is important but at times irritating in its contradictory presentations, suggests in one and the same breath, as we have already seen in Chapter VIII, that man can never govern his own destiny and yet must do so, because while he can breed and environ domestic animals and plants (as he knows what he wishes these to be) he can never do the same for himself as he cannot be the creature to be bred and reared, and the breeder and nurturer at the same time. Man cannot con- trol his own destiny because he needs a master- gardener to tell him what this destiny ought to be. Yet he appeals to man to foster his own ethical efforts against nature’s unethical teaching. Tennyson also speaks of the ‘‘grand old gardener '’ who smiles at the claims of long descent. If Christ had extended his great views to society, he also probably would have used the same image but added to it the concept of pro- 110 GLADSTONE’S SUPRA-HUMANISM 111 vidence; that God, in His Providence to us, and in a deeper sense to all life, is the Master-gardener. And this assumes, and Huxley ought logically to have assumed it too, that in human political affairs, the utmost scholarship fails and that man must rely for a political principle on some supra- human method which will get over the difficulty of man’s inability to predict what even the next ten years may bring forth. Christ would have said, ‘‘ Observe the begin- nings, observe the new seeds of social effort in order to surmise what the full plant will grow into,”’ and Professor Patrick Geddes has often used, I think wisely, a corresponding simile, in suggesting that the budding effort of the new social tendencies should be noted so as to be able to inter- pret what the later unfolding will be. The conclusion of Gladstone’s Impregnable Rock of Holy Scriptures is peculiarly interesting to the social student, as there he gives more clearly than elsewhere his views about the way he looked at and socially studied his fellow-men. It is here made evident that many of Gladstone’s seeming inconsistencies, which Lecky, from his point of view of ascertainable truth and scholarship regarded as Jesuitical, were explainable in another way.! 'I am not dealing, it must be remembered, with Gladstone’s character, but with his avowed and probably sincere political perspective. (See also the reference to Austin at the end of Chapter VII.) 112 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD Gladstone, a student of men and women, is in this curiously like Stubbs, a student of books and human history ; they both seemed to feel the need for a higher guiding principle even than that which could be derived from the most scholarly and pains- taking of personal opinions. Gladstone's view would appear to be that (1) the opinions of men and women are in an incessant state of ‘‘ argumentative contention,’ that even wise and capable men are apt to be misled by the contentiousness of their own minds and th.! reactions of opinion are so various as to be rationally unpredictable. (2) During the time of contentiousness it is almost impossible to say in what direction the final conclusions will turn, but there comes a stage when thought crystallises itself, and immediately this process begins to occur is the time when a question is politically ripe for ‘“ agitation *’ and subsequent legislation. For this reason he does not claim for himself, what most authorities would, an unusually sound experience on the issue to be considered, and an extensive scholarship; he says ‘‘ They form the testimony of an old man, in the closing period of his life. It is rendered with no special qualification but this one. Few persons of our British race have lived through a longer period of incessant argu- mentative contention, or have had a more diversified experience in trying to ascertain, for purposes GLADSTONE’S SUPRA-HUMANISM 113 immediately practical, the difference between tenable and untenable positions. Such experience is directly conversant with the nature of man and his varied relations. . . .’} Gladstone thought this experience of great value because he doubted apparently the capacity of any powers in his own mind, or in any other person’s, to form, by means of scholarship, a political opinion which would tell him what are the advancing and what the receding waves of thought; and how and in what way these advancing waves would amplify or moderate each other. Gladstone’s belief in this respect might be called a kind of Political Pragmatism except that he strongly held that it is a Providence that finally directs man’s activities. When, therefore, Lecky says of him, that the whole great field of modern scientific discovery seemed out of his range,” his reply would have been he did not need it; and to the criticism that no ‘“ other great politician so habitually steeped his ~ politics in emotion,” ¢‘ that the power of ingenious, subtle, refined controversy attained in Gladstone an almost preternatural perfection,’’ that ‘‘ he excelled in noble, dignified declamation appealing to the loftiest motives,” Gladstone would have replied again that these aspects were necessary to influence rightly living minds; and when Lecky adds ‘‘ No ‘c The Impregnable Rock of Holy Scripture, pp. 253-4. H 114 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD English politician indeed so frequently introduced into the perorations of his political and even party speeches God, duty, honour, justice, moral obliga- tion, divine guidance . . .”’ the answer would have been ‘‘ It is providential laws which decide the issues of controversy.” And Lecky’s assertion that ‘“ Gladstone was incomparably superior to Burke in the power of moving great masses of men, dominating in parliamentary debate, catching the tone and feeling of every audience, and carrying an immediate issue ’’; that he had ‘‘ susceptibility to every passing impression, the constant regard to immediate issues and immediate popularity ’’; that he could when he chose, use strangely ambiguous ‘“ misty sentences’’; Gladstone would once more have answered, ‘‘ I watch and guide the moods of men ’’; and to the charge that no ‘‘ prominent English statesman has so fundamentally changed his convictions’ and ‘‘ has combined so remark- ably extreme confidence in his own infallibility with the utmost instability of judgment,” Gladstone would, no doubt, have said, ‘‘ men’s opinions guide me.” Hence there is no inconsistency in the fact that he was ‘‘ the first English minister . . . to bring his policy, in great meetings, directly upon the people,” and ‘‘ delighted in placing himself in touch with the masses of his fellow-countrymen ”’ ;! these and other powerful and illuminating criticisms * Lecky, Democracy and Liberty, Introduction, 1913 GLADSTONE’S SUPRA-HUMANISM 115 of Lecky’s can be explained by one principle which Gladstone has given us in his own words; he believed in the study of ‘‘ tenable and untenable *’ positions, and that the tendencies of men could be read directly from themselves, just as a gardener studies how to treat his flowers by directly ob- serving them, rather than from books. He had apparently no belief whatever in the immediate or final educability of the masses of men and women, ‘‘the masses of mankind, to whom historical and scientific arguments, whether negative or affirmative, are, and probably must remain, inaccessible,”’* but he watched ideas coming and going in these masses, saw what thoughts had vitality and what seemed to be dying and, like William James, he saw that when these vital thoughts in the people have reached a certain fruition, then is the time for action. He believed in scholarship apparently for a study of past events and as an improver of scientific knowledge and invention ; but as for politics and practical action, he conceived the destiny of mankind to be hidden from the wisest as well as the most ignorant ; there- fore one must act ‘‘ upon the signs of the times ’ as manifested by the thoughts and feelings of men, as read in their faces and conversation. Gladstone watched the people as a football or cricket expert might do his game, for developments, and gave ' Impregnable Rock of Holy Scripture, Conclusion. 116 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD to the most living and successful ideas political clothing. Stubbs, in spite of his life of scholarship, held very similar views. He felt with Gladstone that knowledge makes one modest; ‘‘ there are few questions on which as much may not be said on one side as on the other,” ‘‘ the great necessity of practical judgment is patience and tolerance,” ““ for men are born most certainly with constitu- tional inclinations,’”’! which it is difficult to over- ride, and on current issues these inclinations can hardly be over-ridden. Stubbs also held that history taught its best lessons when it dealt with a past sufficiently far away to have few living issues. In Gladstone’s mind, the people are to be con- sulted because only through intimate contact with them can the feasible be discovered, and the long vision of truth, with its scholarship, is not helpful to the shorter principles of political urgency. Truth and Feasibility are therefore to him dignified twin studies, the first telling us how the path of history reveals itself, the second, hardly less important, teaching us to read from practical association with the lives of the people what can be done now. Let me expand and illustrate this position a little. Comte, Lewes and Spencer towards the end of their ! Stubbs, Lectures on The Study of Medieval and Modern History. GLADSTONE’S SUPRA-HUMANISM 117 lives, all considered that they had not sufficiently emphasised the play of feelings in men’s and women’s lives, and Ratzenhofer has amplified this claim. Hegel apparently believed that this play of feelings incapacitated their incidental wills, but that the real wills kept in spite, or perhaps because of these feelings a fairly true course. But for the most part all of these thinkers believed that the ordinary man and woman in any occupation, who constitute the masses of all lands, seldom think and when they do, use their powers sophistically. Max Miiller states this view of mankind very clearly. ‘“ Arguing when reason meets reason is most delightful, whether we win or lose; but arguing against unreason, against anything that is by nature thick, dense, impenetrable, irrational, has always seemed to me the most disheartening occu- pation. Majorities, mere numerical majorities, by which the world is governed now, strike me as mere brute force, though to argue against them is no doubt as foolish as arguing against a railway train that is going to crush you. Gladstone could harangue multitudes; so could Disraeli; all honour to them for it.”’! Gladstone would have accepted this attitude, but have added ‘‘ haranguing has its principles and its utilities, for it deals with the feasibilities of human life,” and when Max Miiller continuing writes as a * My Autobiography, pp. 209-300. 118 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD student, he would have nodded acquiescence. ‘If we know some truth, what does it matter whether a few millions, more or less, see the truth as we see it? Truth is truth, whether it is accepted now or in millions of years. Truth is in no hurry, at least it always seemed to me so. When face to face with a man, or a body of men, who would not be con- vinced, I never felt inclined to run my head against a stone wall! ’’? Gladstone would have accepted this cleavage between the student and the ordinary citizen and asks us to consider it. ‘‘ The whole system of our moral conduct, and much also of our conduct that is not directly moral, rests upon belief as contra- distinguished from knowledge.”’> This attitude must be reckoned with. ‘‘ I do not say that we are creatures of what surrounds us, for we have power to reflect and control it. Yet, reflection and control are exercised but little, in comparison with the need for them; and in the absence of such exercise, it is the surrounding atmosphere, it is the ordinary standard, accepted, and to a great extent necessarily accepted, without examination, that both supplies the stock wherewith we individually begin the great adventure of the world, and that guides our life, except in the rare cases where depravity on one ! My Autobiography, p. 301. 2 Barnett Smith, Thoughts of William Ewart Glad- stone, pp. 47 and 81, GLADSTONE’S SUPRA-HUMANISM 119 side, or . . . heroism on the other, causes us to adopt a separate standard for ourselves.” ‘‘ The truth is we are all traditioners in a degree much greater than we think.”’ William James paraphrasing the Bible’s teaching has a chapter in his Talks to Teachers ‘“ On a certain Blindness in Human Beings ’’ and in his Will to Believe raises more comprehensively the same question and says ‘‘ Our passional nature not only lawfully may, but must, decide an option between propositions whenever it is a genuine option that cannot by its nature be decided on intel- lectual grounds.” Gladstone holds a more extended and general attitude than this, that the emotional and passional influences pervert truth to such an extent that the majority of men and women never see it and, unlike Stubbs, he assumes that this bias is beyond the power of the educationist to get rid of, and that in most cases the teacher is biassed too. But Gladstone also appeared to believe that even if man were dominantly intellectual (and he is not) he yet would fail, as social circumstances them- selves are beyond the control of human thought. In Mr Frank Norris’s Octopus a Railroad Magnate is made to say ‘‘ Railroads build them- selves,” ‘‘ The wheat grows itself,”’ *“ The wheat is one force, the railroad another, and there is a 'W. E. Gladstone, ‘‘ On Ecce Homo,’ p. 42, 1368. 120 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD law that governs them,” ‘‘ Men have only little to do in the whole business.” This was Gladstone’s other teaching. The issues of men’s and women’s lives are not only weighted with human feeling, they are weighted with world circumstance and gigantic laws. Men play in such positions only a minor part. And he believed that it is a politician’s first business, and almost his last, to investigate the contentiousness of human beings, and discover its laws, and the conditions of inter- actions of circumstances and discover their laws, and from the two form a political judgment of expediency. Gladstone disliked an issue being forced before its time, he disliked corruption in public life which prevents natural fruition of an idea or tendencies. Max Miiller has a passage which summarises this view, ‘ what happens . . . when fruit is pulled off a tree before it is ripe. It is expected to ripen by itself, but it never becomes sweet, and often it rots. A premature measure may be carried through the House by a minister with a powerful majority, but it does not acquire vitality and maturity by being carried; it often remains on the statute-book a dead letter! ’’! Gladstone believed that there was a tree of social life, it is not simply or chiefly a rationalistic tree; when the legislative fruit begins to ripen there are signs that it is ripening and these are more than logical signs; My Autobiography, p. 303. GLADSTONE’S SUPRA-HUMANISM 121 thought, feeling and circumstance must all co- operate, and nature’s social laws will tell us what is vital and what is maturing, as well as what is unripe, over-ripe and rotten. Men have far less to do in this than they egotistically believe, Pro- vidence and Nature have far more. A new perspective, a new panorama, a more scientific if less clearly focussed vision is opened up with the teaching of men of the calibre of Rousseau at his best, Hegel and Gladstone. The self-con- scious intelligences of men and women do not explain the major factors of the political situation. This, whether we know it or not, is a great discovery. It does not lead either to despair or carelessness but to the anatomy, physiology and psychology of society, as like discoveries in biology have led to the anatomy, physiology and psychology of the single organism. It is therefore Dawn not Darkness which is ahead of us, if we choose to realise it. CHAPTER Xl RESEMBLANCES AND DIFFERENCES OF OUTLOOK AND THE DEMAND FOR SCIENTIFIC STUDY TO SUPPORT THE NEW THEORIES THE great blunder that Rousseau and Hegel made was the assumption, though for different reasons, that the social ideal is higher than the individual one. Perhaps this was because both men confused importance with excellence. The importance of the State must always be far greater than that of its greatest or noblest citizen, but there is no ground for believing, as Rousseau erroneously asserted, that common opinion is ever more ex- cellent than corresponding states of individual opinion, when for purposes of comparison each is drawn from a similar social strata of culture. The institutional will and the general will have lower, probably less extensive, ranges than the personal will, but the chief point to recognise is that they are different and ask for a different psychology to interpret them, a social, not a per- sonal, psychology. This discovery of the necessity 122 RESEMBLANCES AND DIFFERENCES 123 of a social psychology was probably Rousseau’s greatest achievement, though perhaps he did not understand what psychology scientifically meant. Hegel’s position is not an alternative to Rousseau’s, it supplements and extends it. But he also hoped that in the discovery of the incidental and real wills he had found a series of ascending values of (1) personal incidental, (2) personal real, (3) general incidental and (4) general real, wills. It is surprising that a mind of the great- ness of Hegel could miss such an obvious line of destructive evidence as is afforded by genius itself. It is not merely that the inspirational moments of even ordinary men and women are above the level, incidental and real, of social wills, but in genius, the level of both wills is so much above that there seems no near prospect of society reaching even its lowest ranges, nevertheless his recognition of the distinction between incidental and real personal and social activities is an impor- tant addition to Rousseau’s discovery. Rousseau and Hegel both saw that society works along vaster lines than the individual mind can account for, and this attitude put an end to the personal ‘‘ contract’ view of society which Rousseau illogically also supported; both, how- ever, were content with an expanded human vision. Gladstone still further enlarged the horizon by the conception of supra-human forces 124 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD or natural laws which operated beyond and within the range of man’s personal and collective con- scious and subconscious activities. Rousseau was the unwitting Godfather of Crowd and Social Psychology; Hegel shares with Herbart a like position for the subconscious and ‘‘ behaviour ”’ schools of psychological thought, and Gladstone brought social practice within the objective, imper- sonal reign of scientific law. To summarise : (1) The attempt to think out what aristocracy and democracy mean has led us to the conception that it is family feelings and the development of them which explain ancient and modern states; that geneocracies, not aristocracies and demo- cracies, are the social systems that have been tried, and these have arisen by feelings rather than by abstract thought. (2) The ‘social contract’ rationalists from Milton and Locke, even to Mazzini, raised vain hopes because they saw men and women as reasonable when they are actually desire-driven and use thought only as an expedient. (3) This brought on a reaction against the rationalistic sentimentalism which had represented the people as acting for freedom and as kept down by tyrannous rulers, and the study of realities discredited the belief that the voice of the people is the voice of God. RESEMBLANCES AND DIFFERENCES 125 (4) It would appear that no logical democratic theory has ever been formulated, or is likely to be formulable; but Rousseau’s, Hegel’s and Glad- stone’s principles lead us away from Tationalism, towards, perhaps, an impulse-theory of popular control. (5) Hence as the power of the people has grown, the need for a scientific herd or crowd study of the people has grown with it, and the impetus of this study has come from the practical perplexities which the rule of the people has brought about. It is this crowd inquiry we must next consider, as all our investigations lead us to realise its importance. PART 1IV THE NEW CROWD STUDY. ITS FOUNDA.- TION IN FEELING, NOT REASON CHAPTER XIII THE NEW CROWD STUDY. ITS TWO SCHOOLS IT is with the French Revolution that the crowd as a natural history problem of scientific signif- icance begins. The controversy, to give only one example, in which Richard Price and Thomas Paine on one side and Burke on the other were protagonists, had in it new features of questioning, unlike the earlier references to crowds, such as one finds in Greek, Roman, and later historians. A questioning which suggests the first perception of something unfamiliar, and it is in the nineteenth century, not, as one might expect, in earlier centuries when crowds were more unruly, that this awakening to the distinctive behaviour of crowds begins to be noted. Perhaps the industrial development with the formation of large cities (in which great factories, large schools, huge churches, public halls, mass domestic housing and increased traffic had to be catered for) affected the mind of the student; be this as it may, it is in 129 I 130 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD last century that the scientific study of the crowd is first mooted. THE GROWTH OF THE IDEA I speak subject to correction, but the first thinker I am acquainted with who really deserves to be called the father of crowd studies is John Dunlop; his name is so little known, except in temperance circles, that he is given no place in the British Dictionary of National Biography, but he published two works, the first on Drinking Usage in the thirties of last century, and in 1840 the second The Universal Tendency to Association in Mankind. In this latter volume he defines the laws of this association. ““ The same modes and habits of life, a desire for the same description of food, like methods of constructing lairs and nests and rearing their young, similar necessities for defence; all con- tribute to produce an instinctive association among many of the varieties of living creatures. . . .”’* He then considers in man the effect of common language, identity of name, neighbourhood, the effect of a ‘ Common Head or Leader,” public opinion, public press, and a moral ** Vis Inertize.” Forms of government are considered and then such ! Principle of Association in Mankind, p. 5s. NEW CROWD STUDY 131 effects as conventions, military and other modes of association, and mobs. In fact there is very little that is not given some definite space, in a book of 227 pages. 1 know of no writer on this subject earlier than this Scottish author. The second name is the Englishman, Philip Gilbert Hamerton, whose work on Human Inter- course deals more particularly with the effects of a few individuals on each other; this was con- ceived as early as 1877 as an idea, though his work was not published until 1885. Sir Francis Galton’s celebrated section on ‘“ Gregarious and Slavish Instincts ’’ in his work Inquiries into Human Faculty was given to the world in 1883; in this the term ‘‘ herd ’’ is applied to early human associations. Whether there are corresponding names in French or other literatures, I am unable to state, but in 1900 the word ‘‘ behaviour ’’ and a school to be known as the ‘‘ Behaviourists’’ grew up in which Lloyd Morgan was an important worker, and the term was soon applied to human behaviour. Between 1890 and 1900 Gustave Le Bon and Tarde published their first works dealing with specific crowd problems, and from this time onward, what is often spoken of as ‘‘ Social Psychology ’’ has its active adherents all over the civilised world. 132 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD When a thought thus takes nearly a century and a half to ripen and be focussed in the mind; when despite its difficulty it replaces an idea like *‘ equal rights,” easy to apply and requiring little know- ledge to talk about it, one may be sure it presents a new horizon and that its influence will not readily pass away. MASss AND SOLITUDE PSYCHOLOGIES What is the essential principle of crowd psycho- logy? It is that passional and emotional not rational modes of association chiefly explain the organisation of society. We have two fundamental feelings with regard to our attitude towards our fellows which seem contradictory to each other, but are, as Emerson’ in his essay on Society and Solitude finely saw, linked together in a see-saw relationship; we feel both oppressed and impressed by numbers. Emerson truly says: ““ Through sympathy we are capable of energy and endurance. Concert fires people to a certain fury of performance they can rarely reach alone,” and goes on ““ But the people are to be taken in very small ! Kant’s teaching on this subject was probably the source of this essay of Emerson’s. NEW CROWD STUDY 133 doses. If solitude is proud, so is society vulgar. In society, high advantages are set down to the individual as disqualifications. We sink as easily as we rise through sympathy. . . . Men cannot afford to live together on their merits, and they adjust themselves by their demerits—by their love of gossip, or by sheer tolerance and animal good- nature. They untune and dissipate the brave aspirant.’ ‘“ The remedy is to reinforce each of these moods with the other. Conversation will not corrupt us, if we come to the assembly in our own garb and speech, and with the energy of health, to select what is ours and reject what is not. Society we must have; but let it be society, and not exchanging views or eating from the same dish. . . . Society exists by . . . affinity and not otherwise . . . and so often nature delights to put us between extremes and antagonism. . . . Solitude is impracticable, and society fatal. . . . The conditions are met, if we keep our independ- ence, yet do not lose our sympathy. These wonderful horses need to be driven by fine hands. . . .” : This whole essay I would put in the forefront of our study. He gives the essentials of our 1A view curiously contrary in its claims to that of Rousseau and Hegel. 133 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD crowd problem. We have two natural feelings which are intended by nature to be checks to each other, they must always be in relationship, can never safely be separated and must be felt rather than reasoned about. In contact with people we sink as easily, far more easily than we rise; high advantages are a disqualification in society, and the aspirant is untuned by it. We need our own garb and speech, and can associate without ‘‘ eating from the same dish.” This danger of eating from the same dish and drinking often from the same cup, rationed portions of identical food and liquid is a spiritual as well as material danger of all crowd influences. Emerson is challenging as he always is when at his higher level. He says ‘‘ men cannot afford to live together on their merits,”” he dismisses it as an impossibility, assuming that the best always has and always will create rivalries, and he would have us balance this by a large measure of living alone. Emerson, as always, here assumes that individualism is neither selfishness nor egoism but the craving to fulfil the natural individual life. Is it true that not even as an ideal, let us think care- fully of these words, not even as an ideal can men and women ‘‘afford to live together on their merits ’? There are great issues hanging on this question. We may begin by looking at the central principle ‘¢ NEW CROWD STUDY 135 of association, the crowd feeling. First, there is the indisputable fact that complete sentient loneli- ness is terrible to man and beast. The Bible opens with the thought that the solitary Adam needs a companion, it reaches its climax, though not its conclusion, in the scene before the Crucifixion, when Christ’s disciples fell asleep and Christ is left, alone wrestling with his fate, and Robertson’ probably truly says that his greatest agony was that no one really understood the vastness of his thoughts and feelings, and that his spiritual loneliness was his extreme trial. The solitude of nature’s fastnesses at The Poles, the solitude of the mountain tops, or of being alone in a little boat on the ocean, or walking over a vast prairie or moor at nightfall; these are always terrifying experiences to men, even the bravest of them, and to women more so and children most of all. Shepherds go mad shut in on solitary heights. And yet there is no solitude that is worse than the indifference of a great city thronged with people, or that of being actively isolated from public opinion. One of my students stated this very clearly in the following words: ‘‘ It would seem that one of the most outstanding fears of the average man and woman is the fear of ridicule. They feel that to voice an independent thought would be to court isolation and, to them, to be 'F. W. Robertson, Zhe Loneliness of Christ. Sermon. 136 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD isolated is to be in a ridiculous position.” On the other hand, on polar expeditions men see so much of each other, that they seek solitude apart from their companions, and women much strained, often hide themselves in lonely places they would at other times have feared. Higher animals have this fear of solitude, even the unsociable ones, and when great catastrophes of nature arise, unsociable and sociable ones are drawn together. Animals also by isolation from their kind make strange companions, as a pig and a horse in a field at night, or even an old gander going to rest on the back of a mettlesome mare. There is abund- ant and conclusive evidence as to the power and widespread nature of this fear of being alone, and also the dangers of a recluse’s life under any and all circumstances. This is the basis of the negative side of Crowd and Social Psychology. Sir Hubert Parry? puts quite simply and nakedly the opposite feeling, the positive stimulus of the crowd. ““ Very few people are capable of being really exhilarated by an audience of half a dozen, how- ever enlightened. Most people, even of fine dis- position and fine abilities, infinitely prefer an audience of a thousand dolts. There is such exhilaration in being the focus of two thousand eyes, and seeing the flash of a thousand faces. It * College Addresses, p. 129, 1920. NEW CROWD STUDY 137 thrills the speakers, the performers, the actors. To the person who has any humanity about him it gives extra vitality. . . >! Here is the positive feeling; the thrill comes with numbers, illogically it is true; the enlight- ened half-dozen do not draw as the thousand dolts do; but the other fact is, the thrill comes in pro- portion to numbers both to speaker and listener if it is an audience and not an unrelated accumula- tion of people. And because there is no logic in it, there are times when to see many people gives one the feeling of disgust, as it has been expressed, of maggots tumbling over each other on a fat cheese. Probably everyone has experienced these feelings. Now let me return to Emerson’s challenge. He says ‘‘ men cannot afford to live together on their merits > and, of course, in this thought he includes women too. It was the dream of Socrates that they could; he was always exhorting people to make the best of themselves (we all think we are willing to do this, but we are really unwilling to face the labour of it) and at the same time to help others to make the best of their natures too. ! This view of Parry’s, though no doubt true of the large majority of men and women, is not true of all characters. It was said of John Austin, “He wanted no [public] excitement and no audience.”” See also p. 203 of this volume. 138 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD Two CaMPS OF SOCIAL STUDENTS Now it will be found if one studies the literature of ‘Social Psychology’ widely, and also the aspirations of many different kinds of active social workers, that there are two tendencies which divide the students of the subject into two camps. 1. There is the claim for the unity of the social mind because it is said to rest on the basic unities of all human minds. Professor Graham Wallas' quotes and sum- marises Professor Dallas Sharp’s claim as to what is the social basis of education, but he does so, I think, wisely with only qualified approval. ““ The true end of American Education is the knowledge and practice of democracy—whatever other personal ends our education may serve. . . . We must all go together to school, with a common language, a common course of study, a common purpose, faith and enthusiasm for democracy.” He recognised the need of special courses and even special schools for the mentally deficient; but for him the species is divided into the ‘“ deficient ’ and the *‘ normal,” and all the normal are apparently treated in his thinking as identical with each other. For the normal he pro- poses ‘‘ one common school only for rich and poor, up to the end of high school (i.e., sixteen years of ! Graham Wallas, Our Social Heritage, p. ¢8, 1921. NEW CROWD STUDY 139 age); by which time we are pretty well all we need for the purposes of democracy.” In this common school there shall be ‘‘ one common course, one broad universal course, thus educating for democracy first and after that for life and living.” Here is a beginning, and a very rigid beginning for the identity of civic values. 2. Now let us take the other view, the belief that there is something in life that is higher than social unity, namely social harmony or a unity in diversity. “The spirit of human brotherhood is not promoted by artificially breaking down those lines of natural separation in the intercourse of different classes, which result inevitably from congeniality of pursuits and interests, from correspondence in social position, and from harmony in manners, tastes and sentiments. The folly here is in meddling with the spontaneous operations of nature. Left to themselves the different elements of society fall easily into their proper places and assume their natural functions, and work peace- fully together without any collision—each man happy in habitual association with those whom education and circumstances have fitted him most readily to sympathise with, and enable him best to understand.’’? ! John James Tayler, Christian Aspects of Faith and Duty, p. 150, Second Edition, 185s. 140 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD This is a view which seeks to reconcile and combine individual and social aims together; is it an impossible goal? It has one weakness in its presentation, it does not state how hard it is to encourage natural capacities to break through the bondages of natural affections. Family ties do not easily give capacity the opportunity to select con- genial callings, those beyond the family pale are always or nearly always given less favoured treat- ment and those within more favoured, and so clans and castes rather than true classes are built up. Is it impossible to overcome these age-long geneocratic tendencies? Which is the better : the unity, or the harmony of the social mind? This is the central issue in Social Psychology and it is not yet decided into what schools of thought this problem will divide us. THE ELEMENTS OF THE STUDY It is well to remember what some of us in our enthusiasm are excusably ready to forget, that this new objective view of society is very new, and hence assume that it is more ready to guide politics than it is. It seems certain that we have two funda- mental feelings, which are not intellectual ones nor influenced by any aesthetic qualities; these feelings NEW CROWD STUDY 141 blindly draw us together or as blindly separate. There is a crowd or herd feeling and there is the unsatisfied longing called loneliness when we are isolated from our kind, and even from the general manifestations of life. There is a joy in solitude, and there is a nausea of people of all kinds when this solitary desire is not given its opportunity of realisation. Some kind of health rhythm probably exists between these seemingly antagonistic but really complementary emotions. These emotions vary very widely in human beings, probably much more widely than in other living creatures, some men and women always wanting much more of one experience than the other, the extremes pass- ing from the unhealthy limits of recluse tendencies on one hand, to equally unhealthy limits of extreme communism on the other, and the majority of individuals who like a good deal of both, bridge over the intervening degreess These feelings form, as Kant claimed, the basis of human association, but they are only the basis, not the superstructure, and even at this stage, the first opening of our study, we are in a state of nearly complete ignorance as to what are the conditions which stimulate the solitary, and what the associa- tive feeling and what is the alternating relation between them. If by instinct is meant those activities which seem to be done without the need of play and 142 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD education to acquire skill in performance because such activities being specifically hereditary are involuntary and need no teaching, then man is not an instinctively social animal, he has no specific innate social capacities as insects have, though in times of crisis more general but usually subcon- scious powers are awakened and may then irresist- ibly command his consciousness. Man is not, therefore, an instinctively social creature. But he has in very full degree, what John Dunlop has described, common modal habits of life which arise out of his physiological functionings and what Professor F. H. Giddings very aptly termed ‘ the consciousness of kind ’’ and Professor Lloyd Morgan, organic behaviour qualities. As Dunlop, applying the great teaching of Daubenton and Cuvier to man, pointed out, because we are human beings, we have human habits of living; we eat, drink, protect ourselves, rear our young, associate together in this human manner. We inherit certain bodily and mental characteristics which bring us together in both rivalry and association, along discerning lines of antipathy and sympathy, because of a certain common organic behaviour. Our facial expres- sions and gestures being human we can interpret other human beings fairly correctly, as like feelings and expressions go together and are shared by us all. This is an intelligent interpretation but not NEW CROWD STUDY 143 an intellectual one, because no logical process is involved in it. By antipathetic or sympathetic responses to the gestures and expressions of other human beings, we feel what these other human beings are feeling and respond in a hostile or amicable way to them. We feel out our problem, we do not think it out. This is our region of biological inheritance. But we are in quite an exceptional degree culture —or nurture—profiting creatures, and language has made it possible to make more complete use of this nurture-profiting capacity and the discoveries of writing and printing have vastly increased its usage-storing power. Man has thus a social inheritance only a little less important than his biological, and even more distinctive of himself. This inheritance is partly intellectual. And as Tarde has shown, man is an imitative creature governed by fashions, customs, public opinion, common social atmospheres. Again the grouping and isolating tendencies of temperament lead not only to friendships and enmities, loves and antagonisms, but also to the breaking up of the social unity which the herd feeling and imitative tendencies foster; thus the solitary temperamental and individualising pro- cesses develop side by side and interact with gregarious ones. The situation grows more com- plex as we contemplate it and we become more 144 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD and more conscious of our ignorance. There is further a possession feeling which animals and ourselves blindly feel, and which explains in man such insanities as miserliness and other hoarding obsessions. So far, therefore, some social factors are shared with other life-forms. Instinctive social impulses are largely subconscious and of less relative strength in our natures, but their very obscurity and their power during times of stress, make them all the more dangerous if we fail to recognise and understand them. Herd and solitary feelings we share with the large majority of sentient creatures. Animals are imitative as we are, some remarkably so, they have temperamental and individualising- characteristics, and they have ‘‘ a consciousness of kind ”’ and a social inheritance after their kinds as ours are after our kind. The social instincts, the herd and solitary feelings, temperamental associations and aloofnesses scarcely take wus beyond animal sociability. These elements in the problem are not in the least distinclive of human society, they explain a common foundation, not the peculiar human architecture of the super- structure raised upon it. Max Miiller as far back as 1870 saw the danger of thinking that herd impulses explain human society, but he went too far in his condemnation. ‘‘To say that man is a gregarious animal, and that, like swarms of bees, NEW CROWD STUDY 145 or herds of wild elephants, men keep together instinctively, and thus form themselves into a people, is saying very little ”’ (Introduction to the Science of Religion, p. 146). We know amazingly little of these common basic qualities, and studies which help us to, must be useful ones, but they are not in themselves sufficient. Our distinctive behaviour and our social inherit- ance would perhaps explain the difference between a Kaffir kraal and a beehive, but not why man’s efforts have changed the face of the earth. The most human aspects of society probably centre round what to-day are popularly and even scienti- fically disregarded, our intuitions, an inhibitory will power and a desire, which we vaguely call ambition, which is as blind as the hoarding desire. It is doubtful if animals are intuitive; if they have much or any will power; if they are ambitious. If they do possess these qualities it is to an extremely small degree, they are characteristics of our natures. They explain man’s dominance over all life. The ability to think, even if it is little used, appears to be a human characteristic, for by a pro- cess of inhibitory exclusion, objects of like natures are grouped together and common characteristics with their concepts are defined. Only man appears able to do this. And it may be as Kant thought, that these abstract conceptions partly K Of mar i oy St Gof ~ pT VATE 5 146 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD rest on an intuitive basis. Perhaps aesthetic design rests partly on the same will process, on the power to exclude, as thought does, and on intuitive ideals of beauty, such as the Hellenic Greeks maintained. At any rate in this region where moral obligation is felt and the need for truth-seeking together with esthetic appreciation— in this intuitive region of Pascal, Shaftesbury and Kant—there seem to be powers, which, if difficult to define, are almost or quite peculiar to man’s nature and give him the power which animals do not possess to look consciously before and after. It is not denied, indeed it is part of the object of this book to prove, that these higher powers of thinking and idealising play but a small part yet in human life, but small though this influence is, it symbolises a greater that is to be, and it has made man a tool-designing and manu- facturing creature. These intuitional aptitudes are for the most part only dimly perceived by the ordinary man and woman as very distant influ- ences in their lives, but in higher minds they loom slowly up until they dominate the whole perspec- tive of life. Alfred Russel Wallace thought that this part of our minds is separated by a gulf from the minds of other animals, and even if this be not the case, and it probably is not, these back- ground, guiding powers leading man forward will humanise him more and more, and perhaps give NEW CROWD STUDY 147 him other incentives for labour than mere appetite- desires which are satisfied with physical living, and help him to conquer his own most powerful craving—ambition. Ambition has been the most influential fore- ground feeling, and it is of all blind unintellectual impulses the strangest. Mere desire—satisfaction or greediness—is not a very dangerous tendency except to the possessor. It is what animals manifest and it is satisfied with satiety. = Gormands, drunkards, libertines, even sensationalists are chiefly danger- ous to themselves and—by the arousing of like feelings in others, causing the spreading of a social contagion of lower desire through large areas of society—social development is thus impeded; but all forms of healthy and even per- verted desire-satisfaction are checked by more or less definite reactions of repletion. It is not so with ambition; it grows, as it has been said, by what it feeds on. It is insatiable. It is this blind aggrandisement of self far beyond all bodily or mental needs which is the cruel and dominating force and brings about ruthless animosities and rivalries, vast world changes, and the most terrible of human disasters. Even in its best forms it is still insatiable from ‘‘ Log cabin to White House ”’; the Cinderella of the kitchen desires to be the first princess of the land; the private 148 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD soldier has the dreams of being field-marshal. Most parents desire that their children should have at least first, second, or third places in classes, or be ‘‘ gold medallists ’’ or senior wranglers. It is known that there are forty or more boys in a class and only three top places, but each of those eighty parents of those forty boys stimulates the son to struggle for a supremacy which can come only to three. It is known that medallists and wranglers are rarer still, but the ambition is to be first, to strive for the simple, blind object of competitive supremacy with its show and display of power. To be in all things ‘‘ top dog.” Yet this lust of lusts, blind and unintelligent as it is, causing its possessor violent twinges, pangs, thwartings from rivalry and jealousy, and often a ruined and overstrained mind and body; yield- ing also little joy in success; has given man one of his greatest sources of strength over other life forms; it has graded society into ranks, it has made specialisation of service, with all its tremend- ous social advantages, possible. It is a human quality as much in its perversion as when it exhibits a knightly glory. It has caused man to labour both voluntarily and under compulsion. High rank, preferment, place, even laurels—the stimulus behind these words through this absorb- ing, sterilising, creating feeling—has been, and still is, tremendous. This blind, unintelligent, €¢ NEW CROWD STUDY 149 psychic power almost appallingly strong—men and women will train themselves for its mirage, its will-o’-the-wisp phantom which it holds out, and will seek its bubble supremacy not only in the cannon’s mouth but in every sphere where mind and body may be staked, in order to listen at last, if one succeeds against heavy odds, to a song of envy, or more rarely of chivalrous praise, which others less successful but of like minds sing. I am not, it must be noticed, condemning ambi- tion; it has, I suggest, given man a large part of his greater heritage, but I assert that it is a blind desire, entirely irrational, and yet it is, perhaps, the greatest driving force of the ordinary man’s or woman’s soul. If, now, an attempt is made to summarise the position, it would be as follows; human beings have a vast subconscious instinctive, and, because instinctive, uncontrolled, and because uncontrolled, therefore irrational field of the mind, much smaller relatively than in animals, but which in times of crisis may completely dominate them, and in ordinary phases of consciousness is probably more active than they know; they have simple, crude, blind feelings of association or herding, of solitude, of possession, and these irrational feelings have irrational relationships of impulse to each other. There is an immense imitative field which explains the irrational, unasthetic and sometimes unmoral i150 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD character of fashions and customs, a field in which logic plays no part at all. And in the higher area of biological behaviour where bodily gestures and facial expressions reflect hidden psychic activities so that men and women interpret each other's motives by sympathetic and antipathetic responses and thus many problems of life are felt out, but not thought out, there is still no place for reason. And when at last we come to the motive which has dominated social effort, the ambitious motive, overwhelmingly powerful as it is, we find it not only without rational justification, but that it serves no end of bodily or mental functioning as do all other desires. Finally in higher cultural fields esthetic, moral and scientific activities depend largely upon intuitions which, howeyer arising, are not rationalistic. It is clear then that when man is called a rational being, what ought to be meant by this statement should be that he is so comparatively, but not actually. In the whole domain of man’s mind, reason plays a very small, though, it is also necessary to insist a very important part. Rousseau, Hegel and Glad- stone, and to a large extent James, were not wrong in thinking that rationalist theories are very much too small to explain the whole field of man’s mind. The failure to realise to an adequate extent the non-rational factors of our consciousness has caused much tragic error to be disseminated NEW CROWD STUDY 151 in human affairs. It is not advisable that in religious, educational-industrial and political fields, this true proportion of the human mind should be ignored. Recent measurements of human intelli- gence have revealed a low level of intellectual capacity in the ordinary citizen; a capacity, little if any higher than the boy or girl of fourteen years of age. This conclusion is supported by a study of popular proverbs and by an impartial study of daily and weekly newspapers, by popular fiction, and the popular taste as shown in the ordinary cinema, music hall and theatre. But the question may be asked would it be so if more attention were paid to our desires?’ In the scientific answer to this question there may be the hidden hope. A political theory of government cannot, there- fore, be scientifically founded on the intellectual capacity of the citizen, it must take in the whole range of the mind; no scientific theory of educational development can rest on the claim that our human natures are dominantly reasonable; no scientific theory of trade or industry can be devised which gives an ascendant position to the delibera- tive action of the ordinary consumer in buying goods or the ordinary salesman and producer in ! Sir Arthur Newsholme expresses the hope that our educational system in the future ‘‘ will no longer be in the main intellectual, but will train the emotions of vouth.”’ See p. 95, Vol. xliii., Journal of Royal Sanitary Institute 152 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD selling and manufacturing them. Desires, fashions and traditional customs outweigh, and probably far outweigh, any rational considerations; even in religion itself, the histories of all religions reveal not only large supra-rational noble intuitive elements but still larger impulse-factors which appeal to gregarious, ambitional, behaviouristic and esthetic feelings, without which religious ceremony is felt to be cold and dead, and reason and science play a minor but not unimportant part. It seems then that the modern student is con- fronted with what it is no exaggeration to claim is an immense new field of research and our ignorance of this field is so great that we have not yet reached the exploratory stage of its investi- gation. But this appears to be certain; if men and women are not dominantly reasonable in their activities, then natural social laws must play the part which social students once assigned to human intellectual guidance, and these laws must lead human societies along some greater than human path. What is this path? The Stoics and even the Hebrews were content to realise that it existed, the modern mind wishes to ask where it leads, and in asking this question we leave the nursery stage of our political existence behind and wander into the untrodden regions where our social courses must be set by the political stars of a political NEW CROWD STUDY 153 firmament which is not man-made; and therefore scientific compasses and charts are needed rather than logical human dreams of how we should like to make social utopias of our own. It is impossible to predict what this new inquiry will open up, but one immediate practical result of great importance is already manifesting itself, namely a re-study of the political horizon from this objective crowd standpoint and the discard- ing of the old logical ‘‘ wishing gate ’’ point of view with its vain rationalistic promises. ALTERNATIVES IN THE MODERN OUTLOOK If one comes, from the acceptance of this new horizon, to envisage society as being desire-driven rather than thought-driven; if one sees that dis- interested thoughtful, zesthetic and moral con- siderations appeal strongly to the very few and only very dimly to the many; if social progress is reached not directly but indirectly through some strange general laws which melodise or harmonise what is so often a matter of personal conflict and discord; if like Richard Baxter we come to see human beings as busy, contentious, covetous ants, only with Gladstone’s hopefulness that vast laws prevent these contentious tendencies from going astray ; if, once again, we accept with Gladstone, 154 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD certain laws, as vast as those governing human character, governing also human circumstance, and that somewhere there is to be discovered a larger view, where mighty world forces and cosmic forces mould human destinies; if this new horizon is realised, and we are genuine social reformers, we shall either seek universal, primal impulses in our human natures to which great basic appeals can be made, or we shall study how racial, national, temperamental, idiosyncratic and other differences, so often appearing antagonistic, are really directed by one harmonising aim, then we may find that what previously has been in con- flict will, in the future, be resolved. One school will seek to employ these universal, primal impulses psychologically to communalise citizens, the other socially to orientate them, and will make use of all differences for a social harmony which have hitherto so often been discordant. These neo-communists and neo-individualists rest their foundations on social psychology and the laws of human life and not upon rationalistic speculations. CHAPTER XIV THE NEO-COMMUNISTS—WHO STRESS BASIC FEELINGS THE *‘ neo-communists ’’ are not the old-fashioned ‘* levellers ”’ in a new guise, corresponding to John Ball or John Lilburne or to the communists of last century. This older view still lingers, it needs answering, but it is the older and scienti- fically obsolete outlook. Mr Frank Hodges voiced this levelling appeal as late as 1921. ‘“ The raison d’étre of the Miners’ Federation has been to try to get the human mind to level out as far as it is possible the natural geological differences ’’ and he suggests that as it is good luck that some coal owners own rich coal seams, and some miners are lucky enough to work these, so some colliery managers and engineers are lucky enough to have inborn aptitudes for their work, and he considers that in all these cases the more fortunate should be prepared ‘‘ out of their good fortune to make some sacrifice.’’* * Daily Telegraph, 13th April, 1921. 155 156 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD There is much in this claim that every generous mind will sympathise with, but it is too vague to be helpful. There are several questions at issue: (1) How far is success in work a matter of good luck, and how far of character? (2) The more gifted should make, no doubt, some real sacrifices for the less gifted; it is a matter of degree, these sacrifices should not be burdensome, and the less gifted should be asked to live lives worthy of the sacrifices made and thus respond in some adequate measure themselves. It is wrong that the strong should be exploited for the weak, and it is anti-social. (3) It is assumed that the needs of gifted and less gifted minds are nearly equal for very unequal efficiency. This is not the fact. (4) The greatest blunder is, however, the assump- tion that labour can be successfully organised on some rational or even ethical plan, that ambitions and geneocratic feelings can be over-ridden, and that natural aptitude which tends to work along individual lines will work equally well when con- trolled by collective systems. But were these difficulties surmounted, the ideal of justice would not be reached, another kind of injustice would instead take the place of the older form; to average out our powers and wants, even if it would not make us all most hungry and enfeebled where our aptitudes were strongest and often highest, would at any rate take away the directing incen- THE NEO-COMMUNISTS 157 tives of our minds, and a state of dullness would be induced which would rob life of its best efforts. The whole of this levelling policy is an attempt to work against nature, to rationalise it, to assume that a common agreement made between men and women is all that is required. If the neo-com- munists had restated these views they would have made no real contribution but simply be resting on the old assumption that men and women are in their natures fundamentally, or at least dominantly rational, and this we have already seen is a delusion. It has been assumed by some competent biologists, notably Archdall Reid, that ‘‘ man is distinguished from all other animals by his enormous power of storing mental experiences,”’ of utilising these, and of profiting by the teaching and experience of past generations. No doubt individuals differ ‘* as much in their inborn mental capacity as they do in bodily powers,”’ but it is, he contends, a more or less general teachability of all races of mankind which is the significant factor. ‘“ You can train a man of great innate capacity to have the appearance of a fool. You can so train a man of comparatively mean capacity that among worse trained men he has every appearance of ability.” Hence it is the system of education which matters rather than natural powers.? ' The Biological Foundations of Sociology, Sociological Papers, Vol. iii., and other works. 158 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD Now while one may admit that Sir Archdall Reid’s statements are sound and, indeed, may not wish to controvert them so far as they insist on the enormous educative capacity of man as compared with all living creatures, it yet appears not less certain that he underrates other factors. The stages of development in human life are real stages if difficult to decipher, and these reveal a close connection between educative capacity and bodily states. Recent ‘‘ Mental Tests ’’ though they are open to criticism yet reveal enormous differences in range of functional mental capacity, and the evidence thus obtained is confirmed by medical records of prodigies, of distinctive talents as well as of deficiencies, and these show that though genius has a range of its own, yet the instrumentality of ordinary minds is often strik- ingly unlike even in those who are at work in similar occupations. And it is within the experi- ence of all social workers who are brought in contact with men and women that individual susceptibilities are touchy and difficult to manage in the highest degree. And, lastly, the great educationists like Locke, Pestalozzi, Seguin, etc., all claim that the individual factor cannot be wisely overlooked. Reid, in fact, has revived the easy political dream of Milton and Locke, but not Locke’s truer educational one.’ 1 Reid in this holds similar views to Professor Dallas THE NEO-COMMUNISTS 159 The meo-communists do mot base their claims either on a levelling or on an educative basis, but rather on the appeal to great basic impulses which they think largely explain the social aspects of human life. It would hardly be fair to quote any one writer as voicing this new social claim. But Trotter and McDougall as well as Ross (who largely follows Tarde) seem to assume, though often for different reasons, a human gregariousness which explains the structure of human society and that lesser kinds of group mind, included in larger groups, explain the origins of human social institutions. Professor McDougall puts his attitude shortly. ‘““ If this view, that human nature has everywhere and at all times this common native foundation, can be established, it will afford a much-needed basis for speculation on the history of the develop- ment of human societies and human institutions. For so long as it is possible to assume, as has often been done, that these innate tendencies of the human mind have varied greatly from age to age and from race to race, all such speculation is founded on quicksand and we cannot hope to reach views of a reasonable degree of certainty.’’! In this passage it is the agreement, the unchang- Sharp, quoted on p. 138. Locke referred to the emptiness of the child’s mind, but he denied its general and equal receptivity. : 1 Social Psychology. Section 1. 160 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD ing factors in the human race, its common basis that is emphasised, and it is on these common impulses that Professor McDougall would seem- ingly build. Many critics may say, ‘‘ But how is this? Is not the same teacher also a eugenist, does he not want a selection of the better types, and if he does, how can he also wish for ‘innate tendencies of the human mind’ that do not vary greatly ‘from age to age’ ‘and from race to face?” I am not sure that I understand this desire for constancy on Professor McDougall’s part; it does seem to conflict with any eugenic claim for improvement of stock, but interest in the common factors of society rather than the individual ones, is not impossible to a eugenist, if it is the ‘““ common ’’ he wishes chiefly to select. Such common selection Professor McDougall favours (though he does not reject for his ‘‘ Eugenia ”’ state individual selection either); he says ‘‘ Any population may in principle be regarded as con- sisting of two halves; the half made up of all individuals the sum of whose innate qualities or potentialities is above the average or mean value ”’ . . . (if) *“ the birthrate of the superior half be maintained at a higher rate than that of the inferior half, then, even though the difference be but slight, we may face the future with a well- grounded hope,”’ and he quotes with approval a THE NEO-COMMUNISTS 161 passage from a work of Messrs Popenoe and Johnson, Applied Eugenics, which is as follows: ‘“ By getting that half of the race which is, on the whole, superior in the traits that make for human progress and happiness, to contribute a larger proportion to the next generation than does the half which is on the whole inferior in that respect ’’ it is possible to raise the level of the human race.! This is a communal rather than an aristocratic effort to apply eugenic aims to society. Dr C. W. Saleeby voices this commun- istic effort still more drastically by quoting on the title page of his Eugenic Prospect Browning's words ; ¢ Make no more giants, God, But elevate the race at once.” Professor McDougall would not, I imagine, reject giants if they can be born, but he stresses both in his social psychology and in his eugenic teaching a general elevation of the race, and is in these respects a neo-communist. It is social solidarity that he aims at encouraging. Mr Fisher has recently expressed similar principles from another angle.? ‘That the sane and comfortable conduct of human relations * McDougall, National Welfare and National Decay, PP. 192-3. 2Hon. H. A. L Fisher, Orthodoxy, pp. 5 and 6. L 162 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD demands some common ground of belief and implies a general similarity in the constitution of the human mind is a proposition which no serious thinker would dispute. . . . Without some such ground of common belief or orthodoxy the business of life could not be conducted at all.” Here Mr Fisher’s attitude corresponds to Pro- fessor McDougall’s; society rests on ‘‘ a general similarity in the constitution of the human mind,” which explains a certain orthodox unity in Politics and Religion and in other social sub- jects; but Mr Fisher recognises also a social, and more individualistic heterodoxy, would Professor McDougall do the same? And if he would, would he stress the orthodox side as being the one of greater importance or allow that the heterodox is an equal vital necessity? If he accepts such common and divergent outlooks in citizens, is he implying that these must both be relatively unchanging from age to age, and from race to race, or else all study will be founded on quick- sand? There would appear to be an assumption here that the communal far outweighs the individual aim. The stress therefore is placed on the agreement of human characteristics. And Tansley follows McDougall in making a like claim that three primitive instincts, of the ego, herd and sex in their individual interactions explain, if not all, at THE NEO-COMMUNISTS 163 least most of human character, and it is these interactions of ‘‘ universal complexes ’’ which enable social and personal life to be understood. It is unnecessary to quote more largely, and the reader who is unfamiliar with ‘‘ Social Psychology *’ and with ‘‘ Psycho-Analysis *’ need not at the moment seek to realise what such terms as instinct and complex mean; it is sufficient to understand this, that a rationalistic theory of society is abandoned and a new attempt is made to show that ‘‘ the inherited instincts of man form the basis on which the whole of his mental activity is built up.””* This neo-communism which stresses the basic impulses of men and women, assumes a position upon which an impulse theory of democracy might be built on the foundations of the Rousseau, Hegel and Gladstone position we have already referred to. It is too early to criticise such efforts; as I have said, even the exploratory paths are not yet opened up. Mazzini, though in some aspects commun- istic, wrote wise words, many times over, on this communistic danger. ‘‘ These dreams . . . of the abolition or fusion of the individuality in the whole, have been through all time only transitory incidents in the onward march of the human race; reproducing themselves at each great intellectual and moral crisis, and signalising the urgency of * Tansley, The New Psychology. 164 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD a transformation; but in themselves nothing, and very happily incapable of realisation.’ This, perhaps, errs in not showing the meaning of the fusion tendencies. But meanwhile it will be readily conceded that there is a great work for those who believe that special gregarious impulses, whether fixed or con- sistently varying, and special distinctively human sources of behaviour draw men and women together and make social beings of them. But if this orthodox factor is necessary, as we must accept it to be, is there another side often too much over- looked, a progressive factor which through its individualising power prevents the common forces of our natures leading us into a stagnant state, and thus does not allow the forces of reaction to destroy us? If so, the too great insistence on unifying impulses may not allow the healthy play of individuality and even confuse healthy individ- ualism with unsocial, selfish particularism. It may arouse a desire to minimise race differences, though not a few experts on the subject tell us that race cannot safely be so minimised, that on the contrary it needs only to be understood; there is the wish even for the mixing of racial blood, though much of the teaching of the world is that ! Mazzini, Life and Writings, Vol. vi., pp. 195-6, Smith Elder, 1891. THE NEO-COMMUNISTS 165 the results are not satisfactory. There is the effort to attain an anti-national cosmopolitanism, though the experience of the modern world shows that nationalism as in Poland and Ireland, to name only two instances, is almost irrepressible. There is the desire to obliterate not only caste but class, when all the authoritative social students tell us that division of labour is essential to a modern state, and with these divisions, classes must, there- fore, increase and not decrease. There is the desire for equality of remuneration, when nature tells us that we ought to be paid according to our capacities and needs. There is the blurring of sex ideals when nature and hygienists tell us that sex differentiation is most significant in the human being and that parenthood is a great ideal which can only be realised by the recognition of the different spheres of fatherhood and mother- hood. In our educational system, there is the curriculum method, when all our great educa- tionists tell us, from Locke, Commenius, Rousseau, Pestalozzi, down to Seguin and Groos to-day, that the individual method of teaching should be the guiding principle for social as well as individual ideals, though it is not denied that common practices are also necessary. The question is, Can we assume, either that these individualising tendencies are evil, or if not evil, that they can look after themselves, and that mass methods and 166 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD communal life are what the State must seek to enforce? The objections to these assumptions are many, but the most formidable are those already con- sidered, which suggest the deteriorative influence of all mass organisations; let us consider this point a little more definitely in the next chapter. CHAPTER XV MASS RETROGRESSION—A DANGER ProressorR McDouGaLL notes that most crowd psychologists ‘‘ are concerned chiefly to point out how participation in the group life degrades the individual, how the group feels and thinks and acts on a much lower plane than the average plane of the individuals who compose it.”’! This is a significant, ominous admission, and though our author thinks he has a remedy for it, this is not yet practically tested, whereas the degradation of individual character is a self-evident reality, as any close student of factory life or public recrea- tion centres, etc., knows. This process of the deterioration of character I have watched, when in Medical Practice, in the deteriorative changes of the individual mind under varying circumstances, with my own eyes, as have other observers of experience. Robertson Scott has recently referred to them in his new volume on Japan and the Japanese.? 'The Group Mind, p. 20, 1920. 2 The Foundations of Japan. 167 168 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD The explanation appears to be that intelligence and feeling unless these are specially kept up, as one sometimes sees in the tone of a good school, a good factory, or a good church under some capable leader, fall always to the highest and some- times almost to the lowest common denominator of the mental responses of the group. And this common denominator is nearly always below the natural spiritual levels of the average man and woman of such a group, and it falls lower as the group increases in numbers. There is one possible gleam of light. Have we paid too much attention to intellectual influences and too little to emotional and passional tendencies ? And will this neo-communistic study of the feelings of gregariousness add new knowledge to combat this great and growing evil which menaces modern civilisation ? Parry, speaking of such a high level institution as the ‘“ Royal College of Music,” says, ‘‘ every institution like ours (note the word every) has constantly to be on the look out for and to circum- vent > what he calls ‘‘ academism,’”’ which he describes as ‘‘ knowledge of formulae without understanding >’ and there is a ‘‘ factoryism *’ of a very much more sinister character which drags down and degrades factory life and which needs open and careful study to-day, a study which it has never yet received. MASS RETROGRESSION 169 I will quote as an example, and only as an example, for hundreds of references could be given, the view, taken from the Life of Dr Arnold, of school life, and though it may be said that the abuses which were rife in Arnold’s day have been largely swept away, it has to be remembered also that the ordinary schoolmaster is not a Dr Arnold and does not see with the eyes of one, and has not the great uplifting power on his pupils. Dr Martineau reviewing Stanley’s Life of Arnold* points out how Arnold frequently laments ‘‘ the irresistible strength of a low and tyrannical school opinion; his vain attempts to encourage any large number to struggle against the stream; his sorrow ever renewed, at watch- ing the declension from innocence to corruption, and his pathetic forebodings on receiving, at the opening of each half year, boys now in their home simplicity, but entering on a trial, always severe and rarely triumphant. He admits that, while minds of a peculiar strength are elevated by the ordeal, the ordinary class of amiable, well-disposed, neutral characters are usually carried away by the evil influence of the place, and gradually sink from promise into corruption.” Anyone who turns to Arnold’s own letters will find this a balanced summary of their many references to this subject. I will not consider other references such ' Essays, Reviews and Addresses, Vol. 1., pp. 6g and 7o. 170 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD as those of Charles Dickens and Professor Henry Morley nor turn to recent ones on school life, nor will I stop to analyse the claims of co-education, which to me, at least, appear extremely weak. I know of no trustworthy evidence to show that vice is less in the co-education schools of the United States of America or in Scotland than it is in the mainly non-co-educational schools of England. The tendency of the growing promiscuous sex life of our century has not, I am convinced, been uplifting but retrograde; its influence is patent in factories and other institutions, in the Press, Fiction and the Divorce Court. Co-education may not be responsible for this, but it has had no visible refining influence, it may even have the reverse. This point, however, I am not concerned with at the moment, except to dismiss it. It is the crowd influence I wish to consider. There is not a single one of Arnold’s statements that the sincere honest clergyman could not repeat from his own experience of grown men and women now; he too knows ‘‘ the irresistible strength of low and tyrannical >’ public opinion, he knows of his own ‘‘ vain attempts to encourage any large number to struggle against the stream,” ‘his sorrow, ever renewed, of the declension woof character, and he understands, as Arnold must have done, those splendid and pathetic lines sung in all our churches for centuries, ‘‘ lay not our MASS RETROGRESSION 171 sins to our charge,” the secret call of the man and woman who have found human circumstances beyond their strength, and which goes on to express their secret hope ‘‘ to decline from sin and incline to virtue.” What makes this struggle of the schoolboy and girl and the adult man and woman so hard? No one could accuse Kipling of being unsym- pathetic to mass life, and yet he, like Burns, in his advice to a young friend, speaks with no hesitancy in If about what the boy will find when he goes out into the world. To keep your mental balance when all about you lose theirs and blame their loss on you— “If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, And ‘ being lied about’ . . . ‘ don’t deal in lies’ . . . Or ‘ being hated, don’t give way to hating.’ . . . “If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken Twisted by knaves, to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, And stop and build ’em up with worn-out tools.”” “ If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue ” . . . “If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: ‘ Hold on.’ ”’ “ Yours is the Earth, and everything that’s in it. And—which is more—yow’ll be a Man, my son!’ Why is the Earth the boy’s if he does this? Because it is so exceptional to rise above and not 172 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD be dragged down into the ruck of circumstances, or be even trampled down and destroyed. There must be some universal influence which does this, which produces the declension from innocence to corruption, and it is found in the principle that at low, not high points of character "the common or vulgar, even the basic, contacts are made. Man is more exceptional than a Mammal. A Mammal is more exceptional than a Vertebrate, A Vertebrate than an Invertebrate, A Multicellular than a Unicellular Organism. ~ What is common is, other things equal, always lower, and the high is always rarer, though all rare things are not always of the better type. CHAPTER XVI THE CHECKING OF MASS RETROGRESSION Now there are various ways in which this mass retrogression may be checked and probably the best chance of an uplifting influence is in the use of them all. The Rev. Osborne Jay' made a proposal many years ago, for what he unfortunately called a ‘‘ Penal Settlement ’’ when he meant a supra- penal one for the supra-feeble-minded. Stated shortly, the position is this. It is admitted that there are a few criminals who are of unsound mind in this respect that they seem to be born without some or all of the moral and social qualities, and because of this inborn anti-social attitude need to be kept in criminal lunatic asylums, even though some of these unmoral men and women are quite intelligent. It is found that others have been led astray and that social circumstances are often dominantly to blame. These should be reformed, and what is needed is that the Reformatory, now chiefly confined to the boy and girl in their teens, * The Social Problem, 18393. 173 174 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD should be made a less forbidding institution and include some adults. Those needing the reforma- tory are often more courageous and intelligent than the masses of men and women, but social life has failed to satisfy them. There is, also, a normal intelligent class who err because they are provoked, for whom all that is wanted is some kind of expiatory institution, again greatly differing from our ordinary prison. Perhaps for all of these, except the inborn criminal, the indeterminate sentence is the only scientific one. With some such basis as this, Mr Jay’s proposal could be put in force, because there would remain a class that goes wrong not because it has any peculiarly vicious tendencies, or is morally sinning, but because it is unequal to life's circumstantial struggle. ““ Do not go blundering on with your wretched, silly little vindictive teasing, short sentences. Admit that when persons have no mental or moral equilibrium, they need judicious treatment. Do not send them to prison, which will only make them worse (these supra-feeble-minded), cost you a great deal, and probably infect others; send them to a . . . settlement, that is, a place which has been specially selected ’’ where these may be interned. ‘‘ Let this . . . settlement be ruled and governed and conducted and carried out on reasonable and sensible methods. In such a place, THE CHECKING 175 the inmates will be made as comfortable as possible, and yet there will be a possibility of easy recourse to punishment when necessary.” Parentage will be denied them, but they * will be occupied as far as possible with remunerative employment . . . they will be comfortably fed and fairly housed, and never allowed to return to the outside life for which their very natures entirely unfit them.’’* Would not the whole of society be lifted up by the removal of those who form centres of anti-social activity just as the removal and isolation of fever patients has been beneficial to the community? Professor McDougall (National Welfare and National Decay) has suggested a colony for those with minds too advanced for the present social conditions. Dr F. H. Hayward? has put forward a scheme which ought to be supplementary to Mr Jay’s, a scheme by which he hopes that the whole standard of Public Opinion can be raised. Put briefly, his position is that we must create, not leave to chance, a common denominator of Public Opinion, if only it can be made a high one. This is to be done in two ways, to have on school and college walls of all grades, corresponding records of information. These will give sometimes * The Social Problem, pp. 94-5. 2 The Spiritual Foundations of Reconstruction. 176 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD pictorially, sometimes simply in words, the fundamental data, on all subjects and always proportioned to the child’s stage of development, and so when it leaves school and college, it will have familiarly accepted in its mind the common accepted doctrines of aesthetics, science and philosophy. To this passive influence of educa- tional school and college atmosphere, he would add a more active side, in his idea of ‘‘ School Celebrations.”” The examples which he gives are rather samples of his own personal choice, and he recognises that these would have to be chosen by a responsible body of informed opinion and would vary in different nations. He claims that this would give to younger generations a high jumping off ground of common memories acquired under conditions of high emotion, or at any rate of dignity and impressiveness, which would make quackery and lowness of life less able to hold their own, and be a means of social unification and invigoration. Professor McDougall would, perhaps, achieve this uplift through the skilful arranging of people into groups, and Mr Ross! by the strengthening of the individual and the home factor. Can we take these and other suggestions and form one large- minded general policy so as to avoid some of the greater evils of our time? 'E. A. Ross, Social Psychology. CHAPTER XVII GREGARIOUS MOTIVES NOT ENOUGH FOR SOCIAL EVOLUTION WE saw in last chapter that there are certain means at the disposal of society to check the danger of mass retrogression. The position would seem to be as follows: The ideals of both Aristocracy and Democracy are good but they have never been carried out because of the geneocratic influence of family affection which causes parents and members of one family to support family influence against an aristocratic selection, based on qualitative and efficiency principles. Seneocratic, nepotic, and autocratic tendencies all are apt to work against a true aristocratic selection and against any true democratic principle of responsible, skilled voting power. This is not to say that geneocratic, seneocratic, and other influences have not their place; on the contrary it is because they have such power and 177 M 178 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD rightful position in society that they easily gain an influence of more than what is due to them. But as all governments have been hitherto geneo- cratic ones, modified by seneocratic, autocratic and nepotic influences, it is clear that some psycho- logical study of the healthy social control of the impulses which make these tendencies so strong, is urgently needed. There is hope that such social control is not an impossible task, in spite of the age-long dominance it will have to contend with, because hitherto human beings have considered themselves primarily rational creatures instead of being chiefly desire-driven ones. A change of our educational, industrial, economic and political systems and a more truly Christian interpretation of religion might alter the ascendancy of our desires, calling out and stimulating what has hitherto been suppressed. Mr Jay’s proposal for colonies for the supra-feeble-minded and Professor McDougall’s for super-citizens might both have to be considered, as well as the skilful grouping of citizens, so that herd tendencies may not be so powerfully retrograde, and Dr Hayward’s jump- ing-off ground of culture and Mr Ross’s develop- ment of domestic life are all valuable suggestions and ought to receive the most careful considera- tion. But these are all negative in this that they are restraining and conserving, not initiating influences, how are we to supply those initiatory GREGARIOUS MOTIVES 179 forces of leadership' and the necessary ideals of personal and civic life so vital to progress from so useful but negative a background.? Mr Jay and Professor McDougall would rely on negative and positive aspects of eugenic teaching, and it has already been pointed out that these influences would supply higher ranges of potentiality, but “the question must be asked potentiality for what? Some order of social effort, some satisfying personal and social ideal is required to mark out a positive path or at least a direction for society to travel towards. The gregarious impulses in themselves supply no such motives. Let us come back once more to Sir Hubert Parry’s reference to a crowd or assembly, already quoted ; he speaks of the feeling of being one of many as an ‘‘ exhilaration ’’ even if it is one of a thousand dolts and it ‘‘ thrills’ one. To the person who has any humanity about him it gives ‘‘ extra vitality.”” This was also Emerson’s view. This feeling alternates with the complemental feeling of solitude, but neither supplies motives of progress. ! Social leadership is, of course, an inquiry in itself. ? Dr Hayward claims for his proposals that they would increase initiative, and they include a suggestion for giving the enthusiast, the visionary and the genius a platform by which the multitude may be reached. He claims also that the ‘‘ crank ’’ would become more normal in truly scholastic surroundings. 180 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD Gustave Le Bon says® ‘‘ The most careful observations seem to prove that an individual immersed for some length of time in a crowd in action, soon finds himself—either in consequence of the magnetic? influence given out by the crowd, or from some other cause of which we are ignorant —in a special state. . . .”? There are various views as to how this state is produced ; Le Bon, W. J. Long and others favour some undiscovered telepathic influence, and I do not think this view is one which ought to be dis- carded lightly. Tarde attributes the chief influ- ence to imitation, and Trotter and McDougall to a definite herd feeling which is inborn in us. It is to me probable that all three of these assump- tions are true. And when Herbert Spencer takes the contrary view and asserts that it is only the sum of individual activities, this attitude is also useful as showing how very different individual reactions are which produce the crowd feelings. In my own case I seem to be conscious of them all: (1) I feel the ‘‘ draw *’ and the ‘‘ repulsion ”’ of the multitude. (2) I have less often felt the YThe Crowd, p. 11, 1907. 3 That is, telepathic or other unknown communicative influence. * Myers and one or two other writers link the herd feelings with a call of the subconscious mind; it would then generally, but not always, be of low origin and influence. GREGARIOUS MOTIVES 181 imitative impulse, but I can easily imagine the strength of the feeling, it is not foreign to my nature. (3) I can incipiently realise a sudden motive of the many transmitted to me so that I might be carried away and feel a blind panic, or a blind surging rage, or a blind and sentimental pity. Something of this, when it is skilfully led, is seen in the theatre when laughter or fear or pathos become sentimentally contagious. (But this may be imitative as well as telepathic because one looks at faces which are expressing the same feelings as one’s own and reacts to them.) But I am also very powerfully affected by what every lecturer, worthy of the name, knows as atmosphere, and this seems telepathic; I feel it as a distinct feeling, I respond to it as a distinct feeling, and I do not think that Le Bon is wrong in claiming a distinct and high place for it. In my own mind, it is an important factor. (4) I can understand Spencer’s dead-weight feeling by the sum of numbers. Probably we are very unequally served by these feelings or states. Now while it is vitally important that we should know more of these herd impulses, it is also neces- sary that we should see how they act, and the point on which all social psychologists are agreed is that they alter our personalities. The individual does not behave as he would without them. Le Bon asserts that ‘‘ The conclusion to be 182 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD drawn from what precedes, is that the crowd is always intellectually inferior to the isolated individual, but that, from the point of view of feelings, and of the acts these feelings provoke, the crowd may, according to circumstances, be better or worse than the individual.” This seems to me a fair statement if it is added that the tendency of the feelings and acts of the crowd is downward unless it can be inspired by good leadership. Ross, Trotter, and even McDougall seem broadly to concur in this, though they each put in important caveats. When all is said, therefore, experience is on the side of the view that all Public, Mass influences, if left to themselves, have the downward not the upward pull.” The little boy or girl before he or she enters school is by almost universal admission of the better parent more refined than after doing so. Industrial and other later public influences are not more favourable. Gregarious motives are not enough for social evolution. CHAPTER XVIII THE NEO-INDIVIDUALISTS’ SOCIAL SYNTHESIS AND ARISTO-DEMOCRACY THE rationalistic theory of democracy would then appear to have no basis; it seems to rest on a desire for equitable justice, a justice of similarity of circumstances and on a denial (which is not true to nature and never can be true) of the temperamental differences in one sex and in the two sexes. It has served its day. Life is bigger, more incalculable, more aspirational and inspira- tional than this. Society is a gigantically complex | growth. And yet, why do people long for this like treatment when it can only lead to a terribly dull monotony; is it due to a blind feeling, which serves as a natural check to the lusts of power and place, a feeling so natural that the idea of its “ not being fair ”’ seems to rise almost spontane- ously in the schoolboy’s and schoolgirl’s minds and even in the mind of the child? While inequality must exist and is indeed the life of 183 184 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD society, is it the artificial, not the natural inequality which is the chief source of social bitterness? For a century and more a better teaching has been active; it is time it became a general one. “I am a democrat wishing to advance, and to make others do the same, in the name of these three sacred words—Tradition, Progress, Associa- tion. I believe in the great voice of God which ages bring to me through the universal tradition of the human race. It tells me that the Family, the Nation and Humanity are the three spheres through which human individuality must labour to the common end.” So wrote Mazzini' nearly a hundred years ago, and the best part of his teaching was devoted to trying to separate the ‘ rationing,” ‘‘ levelling out >’ teaching of com- munism from true democracy which seeks a wider and fuller outlook for the individualities of each and all. And Mazzini, if ever there was one, was a people’s man. I pass over deliberately a quantity of fine and noble similar teaching to come down to our day. In 1916 Benchara Branford, a member of an active group of social students, wrote: ‘‘ The stress we lay upon the increasingly great need of evolving a . . . world view is not to be confused ! Mazzini, Life and Writings, Vol. vi., pp. 194-5, Smith Elder. * Janus and Vesta, pp. 21-22. NEO-INDIVIDUALISTS’ SYNTHESIS 85 with the advocacy of a weak and vacuous cosmo- politanism of which the ordinary type is the relatively unreal and doctrinaire state of mind, thin experience and resultant view of the man who ignores the . . . interests of his own nation, per- haps even prides himself on having crushed his nationality beneath recognition under a supposed cosmopolitan temper. “It is not cosmopolitanism in this effete sense that is urged. Rather have we in mind the once great meaning of the word, as represented by a Socrates in ancient times or a Franklin in modern, whose cosmopolitanism was a veritable world citizenship. : ‘“ This implies, when interpreted in its proper historical valuation and evolution, that the attain- ment of a world citizenship is an arduous, slow and deliberate achievement, never fully and com- pletely realised. A true cosmopolitan, whether man or woman, must be first a devoted member of the family, then a good citizen in the life of the town and region, an ardent patriot, a cultured member of the Western or Eastern institution woven into the particular civilisations in which he or she is born. Thus in its various degrees of development, life is filled in each period to the brim with rich experiences of the gentle ties of family, of the progressive activities of the city, of the conservative growth of stability of the 186 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD surrounding rural region, so that the very soil of the native land becomes part of the soul, and the millennial institutional traditions and sentiments of his own race and the racial families nearest to his own grows up within the citizen luxuriantly, if also under due discipline. ‘““ It is only then, when such a man (or woman) feels that for any one of these he would, if necessary, sacrifice his life, and still more for all—it is only then that he is prepared to begin his apprentice- ship to that august assemblage of human beings, past, present and future, which we know as citizens of the world of humanity, in which, if the interests and ideals of the family are fundamental, and the honour of one’s native land central, the interests and ideals of the whole of humanity, past, present and future are supreme. . . .”’ ““ There is mo point of the unending spiral of inter-relations vast and continually increasing at which one can stop and say this is the one vital element. . . . ““ This it is that we mean by world citizenship.” This is finely and scholarlily stated; it is a scientific idealism to which Michelet, Mazzini, as well as Kipling at his best, and Comte and Spencer could have complementally subscribed. It is the wiser view, it must hold the future. I will quote one more reference—the three references are quite unrelated—to voice this modern NEO-INDIVIDUALISTS' SYNTHESIS 187 wiser outlook. Paul Revere Frothingham,' in ‘“ Every one a Beam ’—says ‘‘ the most primitive and fundamental, sacred, fruitful and enduring growth that civilised existence knows, and on which all our civilisation rests—I mean the group which comes together in the family and establishes the Home . . . and what is the secret of all secure, and permanent, and happy family existence? It is the secret of a community of interests: a com- bination of desires, hopes and efforts. . . . No doctrines of a ‘‘ new womanhood,’’ and no duties of a larger sphere of influence, can do away with an old and fundamental fact. ¢“ These laws are writ in human hearts by Him who built the day: The Pillars of the universe not deeper based than they.” ““ And where there is failure . . . where unhappiness comes in at the door, and discontent is seated moodily beside the fire . . . is when the man is bent on ‘ getting ’ something, and is not prepared to give; it is when the woman hopes to secure something, and is not inclined to make a sacrifice—it is when both, or either, fail to bear or bring the necessary beam—it is then that the shelter of the roof gives way, that the structure of the home is not secure. ! Anniversary Sermon (British and Foreign Unitarian Association) May, 1021, reported in Z%e Inquirer for 21st and 28th Mav 188 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD ‘“ The Family, however, is the first group only, and the smallest in the social organism. Beyond it lie the community, the city, the State, the nation and the world itself. And in each of these the same great principle holds good. It is a constant process of enlargement, and of the application of service and unselfishness to wider circles of relation- ship. Many people will do for their own, give to their own, who bear no beam on their shoulders to add to the strength, the beauty and the safety of the larger whole of which they form a part. ‘‘ Inter-nationalism does not mean anti-national- ism. Instead of meaning the absence of national feeling, it would imply the development of national feeling. ““ We have an immense amount to learn in these respects; and an equally immense amount to unlearn. Tolstoy, so great in many respects, so small in others, could speak of Patriotism as a ‘survival of barbarism.” He claimed it the enemy of Christianity . . . and condemned it as presenting the chief impediment to a union among nations. The trouble was, however, that Tolstoy’s understanding of patriotism was as limited and as superficial as his understanding of Christianity. He was too nearly in agreement with the cynical Voltaire. For, according to Voltaire, patriotism consisted ‘in loving your own country, and in wishing other countries ill.” But it was another NEO-INDIVIDUALISTS’ SYNTHESIS 189 Frenchman, of a later day, who upheld a nobler and much larger thought. ‘ You ask me,” wrote de Musset, ‘ if I love my country? and I answer: Yes! But I love also Spain and Italy and I do not hate either Australia or India.’ ‘““ There is, therefore, such a thing as a ‘ New Patriotism,” which is being built up slowly, and that we hope will not be cut off in its early youth. And it is new in this that it consists not in loving your own country any less, but in appreciating, honouring, and loving other countries more than has been our custom in the past.” In these voices speak the truer, the real demo- cracy of the spirit; they express too not merely the path of human but also of individual personal progress ; our individual minds, if we do not shut them in, grow in this same direction towards the benignant, kind, genial old age. Professor Urwick following in the steps of Max Miiller’s teaching has in his Message of Plato helped us towards the vision of East and West, so necessary to a true and lasting universalism and if he favours the East a little too strongly, it is that his own life has taught him how worthy is the life of contemplation and that action is only the preliminary to it. His plea is that the best ideals of the West are for youth, and maturity, embodying as they do the wish for achievement and action, but the best ideals of the East flow igo SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD from a source of inward being, and are for old age and its enlarged but restful vision. To quote Mr Branford once more: ‘“ We see the whole human race in gradual co-operation, albeit doubtless with frequent periodic reverses . . towards a world polity of citizens offering increasing scope alike in duties and in rights to child, woman and man, family, city, region, nation, and race, and doing justice to each accord- ing to its nature and needs.”’? This sequence of expanding conceptions is the fundamental one of neo-individualism and the newer aristo-democratic spirit, and it is hoped that neo-communism which stresses the gregarious appeal will not find its teaching antagonistic to it. It is necessary to remember that while for importance the order is from individual, family, city, region, nation, race, towards humanity, and is increasingly collective in its comprehensiveness, for excellence the voice of the genius raises an individual ideal that the collective aim follows and becomes increasingly individual. What is before us if we accept such an appeal ? A subtle series of scientific studies on tempera- mental, national, and racial issues, investigating the susceptibilities and the interactions of these, and a tremendous personal and social change in * Janus and Vesta, xvii and xviii. NEO-INDIVIDUALISTS’ SYNTHESIS 19 social theory, a recognition that not the equitable but the inequitable, if it is natural, is right and that finding the harmonies in the inequalities of life, not the simple melodies of unison, is our great ideal. CHAPTER XIX THE SOCIAL ORIENTATION OF INDIVIDUAL DESIRE IT may be urged that this plea of neo-individualism is merely a sentimental one, that no evidence has been brought forward beyond that of the existence of sentimental feelings in favour of the home, the nation, the race, and humanity. The obvious answer to make to this criticism is that it is senti- ment we are investigating. The claim of the modern social student is precisely this, that the contempt for mere sentiment has been overdone, if it has ever been justified, as the power of senti- ment in directing social activities has been largely overlooked. The power is often not less when the sentiment works quite blindly, or, if it is not quite blind, sophistically, than when it is aided by real intellectual vision. This is the curious position that one needs to examine carefully. The impres- sive reality is:—that family, national, racial and human feelings have existed side by side without any logical or scientific claim to support them, and have been as strong as if they were so supported, 192 THE SOCIAL ORIENTATION 193 or even stronger in their blind uncalculating and often intellectually contradictory ‘‘ urges.” Our Bible with its seemingly discordant patriarchal, national, racial and cosmopolitan passages, which originated with the Jews and has been accepted by the Western Gentile for nearly two thousand years, is a case in point, but it does not stand alone, other Bibles bear like impresses upon them. And as Herbert Spencer points out' Europeans have taught to their children, for hundreds of years, Greek and Christian principles side by side, without pausing to see to what extent they were consistent, because both appealed to them. The ‘“ mere sentiment ’’ argument is one that history does not support, sentiment is often age-long in its strength and dominating assertiveness. This is the impressive reality which the social student of to-day means to investigate, and it is humiliating but true that thought, however clear, scientific, and convincing without the support of feeling, is passive, and when thus supported with feeling is apt to be biassed. The neo-individualist position is not, therefore, less significant if it is supported by sentiment, as it undoubtedly is, but it also stands on a very firm scientific basis, and to meet the intellectual criticism, I will briefly refer to the arguments in favour of it. (1) It is said that the family origin of society is ' The Introduction to Sociology, Chapter VIII. N ‘194 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD at least doubtful. The family origin may be, but not the later developments of the family spirit in society. These are patent and undeniable. Even as regards origin the family claim has a better case than the herd one. If there are traces of a very early general descent through the female line, and if this suggests that, as in many animals, the paternal influence was at first not recognised, this might mean that the female was in a herd of human beings and was generally protected by the herd and that the family unit came later. Even if this be so, the family spirit is still a very early one. But there are weighty arguments against it. Almost all dis- orders of the mind arouse solitary habits in the deranged person, the lunatic is not more but less communal; this suggests that the earliest human state was more solitary, not more herding, and that the diseased mind reverts to it. Early man was a large, wild animal; before he made use of weapons, a relatively defenceless one, and he was probably arboreal, as the anthropoid apes still are, he would more readily escape the carnivora if the family grouping, as in Gorilla and Chimpanzee, etc., prevailed rather than the herd. But even if the herd was the original source of social unity, the family type came soon after and it has dominated every form of human government and social life ever since, so that individual living, THE SOCIAL ORIENTATION 195 family living, state living, human living, does broadly represent the order of development in the individual and the nation. The immature mind is mainly self-centred, family ties follow, then exclusive national ones, with civic responsibilities, and the inclusive human appeal comes later still. History, on the whole, supports the neo- individualist claim. (2) A criticism from an opposite quarter may accept this family influence in the past but ask Will it continue? Let me refer to some of the great influences that must give support to the belief in the value of the home in all ages that are not decadent ones. 1. The physical elemental needs of early human life demand the family basis. The pre- natal existence of the new human life depends broadly on the dietetic and assimilative capacity and healthfulness of the mother and on a certain absence of violence and strenuousness in her bodily motions. Psychological disturbances are also principal causes of dyspepsia and ill-nourishment, and as such are hurtful to the woman. And what is dangerous to the child-bearing woman is at the same time hurtful to the development of her later nursing capacities. The home, if it is a good one (and it is this ideal we should strive for), is the best 196 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD and perhaps the only satisfactory place where these health needs can be complied with. 2. In the Nursing or Infancy period the mother ought to supply her child with its natural food. There is no other efficient substitute. And to keep this food of good quality, the same conditions as in (1) are required. 3. The Weanling (or Toddling) stage, from the end of infancy (about nine months) to established childhood (about three years), is a dependent help- less period that needs personal and individual attention, and it is doubtful if this can be given without the interest of parental feeling. In any case, why should a salaried woman do for money what a mother ought to do from desire and duty ? Lack of delicacy in the handling of a child, in toilet and other attentions, has frequently laid the foundations of bad habits and even gross immorality in later years. 4. Up to seven years of age, at least, children are extremely susceptible to many infectious and contagious diseases, and all massed institutional life favours the catching of such ailments. It is neither necessary nor advisable for children to be subject to what are called ‘‘ childish complaints ”’ and to have these in succession one after another. Galton and Newsholme and others have shown that diseases probably devitalise permanently. For about the first seven years of life the child is THE SOCIAL ORIENTATION 197 far better in a good home where a good mother and father are effective isolation officers. 5. Is there no place for affection of parent and child? Are we growing so material that it needs a scientific psychological demonstration (a demon- stration which can easily be given) of the value of endearment and touch in developing not only the child’s but also the parents’ minds? And if affection has its value, then the home must persist. 6. Spencer has pointed out that individuation, the process by which a mind individualises itself, is not the same as selfishness. The one is noble, the other ignoble, and individuation with its mind- unfolding process necessarily reveals and unlocks each citizen's highest powers which can be used, when unlocked, by the nation. The home is the only place in which this process can be realised. 7. Comte has pointed out that in economic inquiries consumption and skilled shopping for individual needs are the keys to the study of the development of the State. The home is the basis for this. Michelet, Ruskin, and Morris, as well as other writers, have all seen in machinery a danger that mechanism may make us slaves. Machinery can do this only if individual taste is not cultivated. Large-scale production is able to create a surplus of labour, and by excessive standardisation of machinery and repetitive duplication of what is produced it allows an extreme specialisation of 198 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD workmanship so that labour becomes mechanical and monotonous. The home is a check to this. 8. Locke claimed society is for the individuals who compose it (if society is not for them, what :s it for ?), and, without a home, society has no place for individual self-expression. 9. In early Victorian thought the home is spoken of as a fledgling ground of initiation for the young life before the cold plunge into the world—this position has not been disproved—and it is also a character-formative influence. 10. Religion acts individually and repose or meditation is needed by all of us, and incidentally also for bodily health. The home could give this opportunity. 11. Confucius in past times, Mazzini, Spencer, Locke, etc., in recent times, have pointed out that the noblest bonds of hierarchialism are forged in “ the home: (a) Filialism passing to (b) Fraternalism as society develops. 12. Affection and Faith demand the home ideal : Love in a cottage is better than stalled luxury and ease without it. The marriage tie inviolate is a Faith ideal. Many people have pointed out that the marriage vow would be uninspiring if it read : ““ For better, not for worse; for richer, but not for poorer; in health, but not in sickness; till con- venience do us part.” And no one yet has been able to dissolve and blot out memories and mind THE SOCIAL ORIENTATION 199 associations by Act of Parliament, nor cause children once born of two parents to be re-born of one of these with another. 13. Dunlop, Ross, McDougall, etc., have pointed out that in the growing collective or mass life of a State the individual influence of the home is required to prevent people becoming too sheep- like and thinking as their morning and evening papers, trades unions, clubs, colleges suggest. 14. The whole trend of mind development and reform favours impulsive and therefore individual treatment rather than compulsive and collective. One need only mention Pestalozzi, and the need of mothers capable of educating their children in their early years; Froebel and Groos, and the value of spontaneous play; Pestalozzi, Seguin, and his disciple Montessori, and the need of individual tuition; Hill and Connolly, who maintained that asylums should be more like homes and less like barracks; the cottage asylum and hospital move- ment; Howard, the Elmira system, and later the Borstal plan of treatment for crime; persuasion rather than cruelty towards animals; the milder aspect of religion, which aims at threatening less and converting more. Every one of these fourteen headings, and each of them is in itself a large and important subject of study, favours the home and voluntaryistic appeal. 200 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD Moreover, the scientific fields of Personal, Public and Racial hygiene now being worked out, make it practically certain that this neo-individua- list claim of a widening outlook which commences with the home and widens towards the region, the nation, and the world, is the natural order of human development and is the way in which a world humanity will at last be built. The real difficulty of the neo-individualist is the social orientation of individual desire. Desire is so powerful that it can only be checked by the intensifying of some opposing desire. We have already seen that the social forces behind such words as aristocratic and democratic are not aristo- cratic and democratic ones, but geneocratic, seneocratic, nepotic and autocratic. 1. Family influence is universal in all states. 2. Seniority of service nearly always takes pre- cedence over quality of service. 3. The use of ‘“ a friend at court’ is also universally recognised. 4. Last, but not least in influence, the lust for power, place and precedence over our fellows, the ambitious motive of human life, is that which of all motives has been the most ruthless. Socially to orientate these feelings in all classes of the nation (for no class is exempt from their dangerous dominances) and in both sexes (because THE SOCIAL ORIENTATION 201 women are even more influenced by feelings than men) is the great task for the psychological and religious students of the future. : Of these four feelings, let me only illustrate one. Christ in common with, but more strongly than, other world religious teachers emphasises the danger of the ambitious desire for precedence. He teaches that in order to be spiritual we must conquer and subordinate this lust for power. We must cease to wish to sit in high places, to be seen of men, to be gratified by applause, to long for notoriety ; what we should seek is the growing, expanding spiritual life in our own natures and a sympathy with a like growth in the natures of others. . William Law! long ago urged ‘The first temper that we try to awaken in children is pride; as dangerous a passion as that of lust, we stir them up to vain thoughts of themselves, and do everything we can to puff up their minds with a sense of their own abilities. ‘“ And when we have taught them to scorn to be outdone by any, to bear no rival, to thirst after every instance of applause, to be content with nothing but the highest distinctions; then we begin to take comfort in them. . . .” Is such an education calculated to make a people contented with the simple but magnificent fruits of ! Serious Call, Chapter XVIII. 202 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD knowledge and also make it favourable to peace, or will you not have in the scorn to be outdone, the source of personal, sex, class and national rivalries which make war inevitable? Spencer! also says ‘‘ It is not, as we commonly suppose, that there are no governments but those of monarchs, and parliaments, and constituted authorities. These acknowledged governments are supplemented by other unacknowledged ones that grow up in all circles, in which every man or woman strives to be the king or queen, or lesser dignitary. To get above some and be reverenced by them, and to propitiate those who are above us, is the universal struggle in which the chief energies of life are expended. . . . We are none of us content with quietly unfolding our own individualities to the full in all directions.” Speaking of the evils of education and educators, Mr Clutton-Brock says: ‘‘ It is not merely the vulgar will to power over the child, but something far subtler and more unconscious. It is the constant tendency (of teacher and parent) to associate education with status, to regard it as a means not to freedom of the spirit but to some kind of superiority.’’? ““. .. There is always the same strain after show, and the same endeavour to make a little * Education, Chapter 1. 2 Richmond, Permanent Values in Education, p. Xiv. THE SOCIAL ORIENTATION 203 look a mickle. The children of five hundred a year must look like those of a thousand; and those of a thousand must rival the tenue of little lords and ladies born in the purple.’ While writing this volume, I thought of one who in America was called ‘‘ The White Mr Long- fellow.” I thought of him as he wrote about the abolition of war and the substitution of education for arsenals and forts. I thought of him in his Dante circle, in the quiet authority which he wielded in the best cultured society that America has yet seen. And I thought this lover of children and youths and maidens, this teacher of goodwill towards men could never have followed other than an ambition- less path, and then I turned to the larger Life, which Samuel Longfellow wrote of Henry Wads- worth. And this is what I found dated 3ist December, 1824. As a youth he wrote to his father, *“ I will be eminent in something,’’ and his father did not discourage the assertion, and he wrote again and yet again in the same spirit. If men like Longfellow? are ambitious, can we hope ! E, Lynn Lynton, The Girl of the Period, Chapter I. On Modern Mothers. 2 Sir Charles Lyell says in his autobiography, speaking of one of his earlier schools: ¢ There was nothing at Radcliffe’s for exciting the emulation of the boys, and as I had an aversion to labour, which nothing but a stimulus could overcome, I learned but little during the two years I was at school ”’ (Life, Letters and Friends, Vol. i., p. 10), On the other hand it was said of John Austin, ‘‘The 204 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD to make the ordinary man and woman less so? At any rate, this difficulty of desire is the problem in democracy; it is the problem in the study of the crowd and social psychology, it is the problem of the ideal of peace. 1920 was the centenary of the birth of Herbert Spencer, the greatest theoretical advocate for peace the world has ever seen. His Education is a call to the peaceful life, his eighth chapter of the Study of Sociology is a plea that a ““ Religion of Amity ’’ may one day, and will one day, supersede the past age-long and powerful ‘““ Religion of Enmity,”” his hope of ‘ In- dustrialism > was that it would supersede ‘“ Militarism,’ and he is the greatest co-operative teacher relying not on force but on common desire to unite us that the world has yet known. And at the end of the most terrible and costly war in all history, the world passed him by. 1921 was the centenary of the death of Napoleon and almost every important paper and monthly magazine throughout the world paid its tribute to his memory; was it to the ‘‘ Code Napoleon,” by which alone he has any claim to a great, other than a notorious, social memory? Was it even highest applause or admiration of ignorant millions would have failed to give him the smallest satisfaction. The approbation of the few whose judgment he respected or the persuasion that his labours tended to general utility were the only stimulants which affected him’ (Preface Austin, Jurisprudence). THE SOCIAL ORIENTATION 2035 his military skill? No, it was to Napoleon, the Conqueror. Can we, dare we, be sure that the Kaiser’s centenary will not also be celebrated? Such, alas, is human weakness. There has recently been a glove fight in America for the ‘‘ Championship of the World.” Thousands and thousands, including women, watched the fighting, and a world, a whole world, was informed and almost kept breathless for the result. It is not reasoning which will conquer this war desire. It is the uplifting of better desires in our minds which alone can exalt the higher and abase, not debase the lower. But this is a vast, a gigantic problem of applied Social Psychology. Gissing? says truly, ‘‘ it is so difficult (for human beings) to associate, however transitively, and even under the most favourable conditions, without some shadow of mutual offence. Consider the differ- ences of task and of habit, the conflict of pre- judices, the divergence of opinion (though that is probably the same thing),? which quickly reveal themselves between any two persons brought into more than casual contact, and think how much self-subdual is implicit whenever for more than an hour or two, they co-exist in seeming harmony. Man is not made for peaceful intercourse with his fellows; he is always self-assertive, commonly * George Gissing, Ryecroft Papers, Section VI, Summer. * The Gladstonian claim. 206 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD aggressive, always critical in a more or less hostile spirit of any characteristic which seems strange to him.’> The average man or woman is always at open discord with someone; the great majority could not live without oft-recurrent squabble. Allowing for this quarrelsomeness in in- dividuals, ‘‘ it passes the wit of man to explain how it is that nations are ever at peace! ”’ Though Gissing’s position could not be denied by the experienced mind, it yet raises the three issues which open the door for hope: (1) Is this quarrel- someness less than it was? (2) Do desires which arouse conflict between individuals yet serve some larger social and harmonious end? (3) Is there a psychology of amity and enmity so that a culture of the former may be founded upon it? Ambitious and competitive motives are not necessarily bad ones, their uses have already been referred to; they have given grades to society, have caused the specialisation of industry and in early times have been a great incentive to all forms of labour, and are seen as helpful influences even in the lives of such unlikely examples as Sir Charles Lyell and Longfellow. But to make these yield to higher motives as age in the individual and in society advances; this is what is now needed. Is it possible to throw a sufficient weight of THE SOCIAL ORIENTATION 207 public opinion behind the social reformer to check motives so strong as the desire to rise in life or the family feeling which resorts to favouritism and gives its relatives and friends the ‘fruits of office’? Can we in face of such paramount feel- ings insist on impartiality and qualitative efficiency in public affairs? These feelings are quite unquestionably widespread over all classes of men and women throughout the world, and have been the ruling influences in the past. There is, more- over, a tremendous weight of indifference and detachment to be overcome. Can we have love and friendship in private affairs without its inevit- able favouritism affecting public ones? Can we have disinterestedness and impartiality and yet avoid dilatoriness in human effort? To ask these questions seriously is to see at once how futile ‘ Rationalism ’’ is as a political doctrine. What is wanted is obviously not the destruction of the family spirit, nor the denial of the true value of seniority, nor even the destruction of the glory in power and precedence, but some psychological orientation of such tremendous motives so that their anti-social tendencies may be checked. Many cultured minds sensitive to moral and social changes are beginning to feel ‘‘ that the whole world seems to have reached a great moment of transition. It seems to have got near the top of a narrow pass which will look over into a new 208 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD era.”’! Professor Gilbert Murray and Mr Tawney have ably maintained this view. Is it that we are near a new vision of human effort and that we are coming to realise at last, perhaps without knowing it, that the desires of our minds, the driving impulses of our minds are what we need to investigate and understand ? If we are to recognise individual differences to the full, we must abolish rivalries and must find in our differences not the sources of hostility, nor misunderstandings, but mutual help and strength. A change of orientation must therefore come if the new view is to survive and this will begin with education. . Dean Inge rightly says that the ‘‘ examination system flourishes best where there is no genuine desire for mental cultivation.”’®? It must be so, for the method of a curriculum is non-individual and its aim is to confer financial material benefit rather than cultural enlargement of the mind. ‘The whole of school life is stimulated by the principle of competition, and kept together by a healthy and, on the whole, a kindly self-assertion. . ..” Is this, as Mr W. W. Vaughan asks, the best kind of education? Mr Vaughan in his very interest- ing paper is only allying himself with and restating what Pestalozzi, Seguin and Spencer ! Times Literary Supplement, 6th January, 1921. 2 Cambridge Essays on Education, 1917. THE SOCIAL ORIENTATION 209 claimed, that development not competition should be accepted, at least as the ideal of all cultural effort. M—— This also seems to be the dream at the back of Mr Tawney’s mind; he assumes that industry and even national ideals must follow the path not of rivalry and emulation but of self-development. Mr Vaughan truly says this issue raises a dilemma never yet solved by man and ‘‘ the rulers find it more difficult than the ruled.” Man has reached a stage when he is both con- scious of his power and also of a desire to resist any form of compulsion where it affects himself. The hope is, without ignoring human unity, that he will vse this power to favour a widespread personal diversity. But up to now, man has been spurred on by rivalries, excited by and stimulated and quickened through competition. In order to check these ambitions in himself he has sought to weaken home and sex ties, to give all labour a common remunerative value, to destroy alike individualism and nationalism. The difficulty is, nature will not permit this; if sex affection is weakened, sex-licence is encouraged; if the incentive of labour is removed, laziness is encouraged ; if individualism is destroyed, self- respect goes also; and nationalism is so strong that it will not be suppressed. The better way, indeed the only way, is to oO N 210. SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD change the precedence of our own desires. We cannot make men or women feel what is not already existing in their natures, but we can emphasise, in educational, industrial, political and domestic life, an unemphasised aspect. We can change the accent of our lives and in doing so produce a silent revolution. Are we equal to our task? I passed a man in the street, his clothes were tattered, his face wore an expression of utter indifference to circumstance, which it was easy to see revealed the whole state of his character. Self- respect and incentive were alike gone, even his appeal for alms lacked all eagerness. He stood there apathetic. On the opposite side of the road a young girl of about seventeen walked with an egoistic deport- ment, which it was no less obvious was not only native to a side of her disposition but bred in her by her home and school. How to take from one the indifference which his failure had given him and from the other the lust of pride and self-seeking which made her blind to all else and give both alike true self-respect is part of this great question of social orientation. Is it an impossible aim ? CHAPTER XX SUMMARY OF CONCLUSIONS, AND THE NEED FOR PERSONAL AND SOCIAL HUMAN IDEALS IN attempting to bring together a summary of the main conclusions of this volume, I hope that the general ideas thus placed in their relation to each other which animate the modern schools of social thought will stand out more sharply than could be the case when each of these ideas was considered separately and a little more in detail. I have not discussed questions of terminology (as in the vague use of the word will, and the almost as unsatisfactory use of the term instinct) but apart from this I have tried to give a representative picture. I. THE PROSPECT A new social territory has been discovered with vast horizons—this is the cardinal, the under- lying or foundation teaching of the new school of thought. All other aspects of the question 211 212 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD grow out of this. All simple rationaiistic theories of government or of a people’s ways stand con- demned in the light of the complex human _ motives with which modern psychology shows human and other animal beings to be possessed. The behaviour of all living creatures is complex, that of man most of all, and he therefore must exert complex social interactions. ‘“ Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of »’ society, when you would pluck out the heart of its mystery with a few trite assumptions. II. INTELLECTUAL NAMES FOR (GOVERNMENTS WHICH ARE DESIRE-FASHIONED Aristocracies and Democracies imply very high aims, wide culture, and noble daily standards of life in a people who could embody their ideals in public iaws, customs and precedents. _~ No real aristocracy and no real democracy have ever yet existed in this very imperfect world of human affairs. The characteristics of peoples of all ages and climes have hitherto been those dependent on fashion, custom, and desire- behaviour (which is, for the most part, self- seeking) as well as on gregarious and solitary inclinations. But custom, desire and sociabiiity are not the ordinary seed-grounds of culture or SUMMARY OF CONCLUSIONS 213 unselfish duty, and what is conspicuous about any political controversy is the prevalence of catch words and catch phrases which often obviously contradict each other and yet none the less pass as currency for thought and scholarship, and of biases so obvious that party, party-loyalty and partisanship are the deciding factors of the situation. It is not merely that such a situation could not produce an atmosphere where the best would be selected and, perhaps, bred, as in aristocracy, and that it still less could produce a condition where all citizens were able to vote responsibly and intelligently as in democracy, but on the obvious face of the situation it is not rationalism and truth which prevail, but dominant and assertively intense desire-forces. III. Rear PouriticaL PoOwEeRs Aristocracy and democracy have been used, perhaps subconsciously, as words which have cloaked the real political powers of family affection with its resuiting favouritism, and the ambitious motive of lust for power and precedence. These motives are not evil, they can, however, be easily perverted, and in the main it is true that all societies have been geneocracies with a hierarchical ordering, such ordering being the result of interacting rival personal ambitions, 214 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD Political rule thus emulatively established gains and maintains its power by supplying the appetite- demands of the peoples that have been so governed. .. The words ** Reason,” *‘‘ Truth,” ~ “Culture ”’ and ‘‘ Morality ”’ have been used sophistically. They have been the weapons of ~ controversy, but the real combatants which have used such weapons have been rival desires. This is why even such a giant mind as Aristotle’s did not place in the forefront of his Ethics and Politics the issue of slavery, and why slavery lasted into the nineteenth century as a discuss- able question. This is why the tremendous indifferentism of the masses in all occupations and their desire for sensationalism has never received any serious study to this day, and why in all political issues, the most obviously central posi- tions, which disinterested thought would suggest, are so frequently overlooked. G. Stanley Hall in Senescence, 1922, p. 4350, says: “It would seem that young people have no business with the contemplation and meaning of death and that it is absurd for them to occupy themselves with it.”’ But it is unnatural not absurd; on the contrary, if we were rationally-minded it is just what young people would be occupied with, but they are not emotionally awakened and so pass it by. Desires are the real combatants and the weapons which these sophistically use are | SUMMARY OF CONCLUSIONS 215 Reason, Truth, Culture and Morality, though under Time’s guidance, the weapons take on life and the temporary desires are drowned in oblivion. IV. THE UNSCIENTIFIC EXALTATION OF REASONABLENESS Yet men and women have always liked to believe that they are dominantly reasonable and intellectual beings and the sublime teaching of Socrates rests partly on such an erroneous ideal. And when at the beginnings of The Reformation and The Renaissance a larger humanity led the age to the problem of the people it was assumed that rational teaching was all that the people required. Then followed the hard lesson of experience and a reaction from such a simple, child-like belief. Teaching has not brought wisdom to the masses; desires are still the real combatants in the social arena; and it has come to be seen that popularity and vulgarity have more than a linguistic relationship. At first the proprietors of newspapers and ‘theatres and publishers of books were blamed for the tone of the Press, the Drama and the Book World, but it is now realised after repeated trials and failures that demoralisation of effort seems always to accompany the successful popularisation of a 216 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD cause. This is not a discovery for social students to bemoan, it is rather one for them to investigate. The conclusion, however, has led in recent times to the breakdown of the rationalistic democratic theory, to the realisation that the direct voice of the people is not the voice of God; that the low general levels of intelligence and the still lower levels of scholarship in a people are not sufficient to make its opinion of value, and that even if such were not the case, its desires would outrun its intellect. The first essential in modern political inquiry is the abandonment of the assumption that human beings are dominantly reasonable, /and the second is that with this abandonment the student has to begin his inquiries afresh, and step into unfamiliar scenery and to need new charts, new sign-posts and new methods of exploration, and new political theories like those of Rousseau, Hegel, and Gladstone, to interpret the new situation. For if the people does not have the intelligence to govern itself; if desires, not intellect, control the political fore- ground; what prevents this foreground from becoming chaotic? Is there in human desire some larger purpose not yet discovered? Is there some providential law which harmonises in the process of time what seems discordant at the moment? These and other questions are raised because it is realised that the old view of an enlightened SUMMARY OF CONCLUSIONS :17 people being able to govern itself is a double delusion. The enlightened people have never existed, and, in this intellectual and disinterested sense, probably never will exist, but if they did, the intelligence of skilled men and women who are enlightened is insufficient to foresee the future needs of society unless there be scientific social laws to help them. Hence the social student is driven back from his former belief in the sufficiency of human minds to think out consciously a social policy towards a recovery of confidence in and reli- ance upon nature, and he begins to see, in the background of life, scientific social laws directing the more obvious human foreground, and begins to look dimly to a great horizon for the discovery of some purpose not our own making for a righteousness and a destiny which our rivalries, bickerings, jealousies and scurrilities as well as our unintellectual amenities could not reach. Such a student does not see human life more meanly because he sees it thus more truly; life is greater, and because it is greater, more complex, more difficult to interpret; and indirect theories of government are required to supersede the easy rationalistic ones that men like Locke and Bentham, great leaders as these were, formed. Austin felt the rationalist position to be a weak one and he presaged the new outlook, but he did not live to see it developed. 218 SOCIAL LIFE AND THE CROWD V. THE Task To BE ACCOMPLISHED Rousseau, Hegel and Gladstone are examples of those who are forming the scaffolding for a much more scientific and a much nobler structure of political theory, and it begins to be seen that this new structure must have its foundations laid in Social Psychology and Crowd Studies. The first floor of this building will be occupied by builders of a new communism who study the laws of the psychology of human gregariousness, but this alone is insufficient; mass-retrogression is a real danger, and although there are checks to this retrogression, they are restraining not progressive influences, so that gregarious motives are not enough for social evolution. Therefore the second floor of the social building must be given over to the neo-individualists who by orientating individual desire will help to make us all better and more progressive citizens, holding up to us ideals of personal living and civic living that being based on Nature and Science will quicken and call our better impulses into activity and dominance. VI. THE NECESSARY IDEALS Meanwhile what is required are ideals, of social evolution, of personal evolution (or scientific ideals SUMMARY OF CONCLUSIONS 219 of the stages of social and individual life) as science reveals them, and an appeal to the = voluntary principle which shall encourage all human effort. In order to see and believe in the realisation of such ideals, it is necessary to remember that what makes the true social reformer is the ability which can see, as Hegel pointed out, shining through incidental evils, which recur age by age, and evolving out of them, the deeper and lasting realities of human goodness. INDEX AIKIN, JOHN, 52 Alison, 37 Ambition or lust of power, a distinctive human char- acteristic, 147-9; its orientation, 201 Anstey, F., 6o Archer, W., 49 ristocracy, a name not a reality, 16-7, 177; used in many senses, 18; not anti- democratic, 19 Aristotle, 65 Austin, 3, 18, 50, 6s, 74-8; desire governing reason in social life, 137; and Parry, 203-4 Autocracy, 17; anti-demo- cratic, and Hobbes, oo; other views, 108 Avebury, Lord, 20 BEHAVIOUR, 13°53, 131} instinctive and discern- ing forms, 142 Bennett, A., and the Press, 44 Branford, Benchara, 184-6, 190 Bryce, Viscount, 37 Burns, R., 29 CLUTTON-BROCK, 202 Communism, old and new, 155-8 220 Comparison of Rousseau’s, Hegel’s and Gladstone’s views, 81-2, 122-5 Complexity of society, 15, 60-74, 81-8 Comte, A., 65, 7 Contradictory wants, 193 Creighton, Bishop Mandell, 64 Crowds and The Masses, 13; their desires, 40-50; dis- regard of the esthetic, 56; credulity, 56-7; inertia and stupidity, 93-5, 130; com- tentiousness, 112; herd and slave qualities, 131 Cuvier, 142 DARK, SIDNEY, Daubenton, 142 Democracy, its intellectual impotency, 11-2; its pene cution of genius, 13, its unreality, 17; the as of an indirect governing principle, 6-g; a new perspective, 69-74, 81-8; Impulse Theory, 163 Desire’s sophistical power, 12-3, 76-7 W., 62 Draper, J. Dunlop, J., 94, 130-1, 142 34-5 ELEMENTS of the Study, 140- 53 INDEX 221 Elliot, Ebenezer, 47, 49 Emerson, W., 132-4 Equity, its future subordin- ation, 183, 190-1 FAGAN, J. B., and the Press, 44 Fisher, H. A. 1.., 95-9, 161-2 Forms of political influence, 23-4 French Revolution, the starting point of Crowd Psychology, 129 Frothingham, P. R., 187-9 GALTON, Sir Francis, 131 Geddes, P., 111 Geneocracy, 10-23; its orientation, 201 Giddings, F. H., 142 Gissing, G., 306, 37, 60, 205-6 Gladstone, W. E., 64, 72, 110-21, 123-5 Gregarious motives, analysis of, 180-1; not progressive, 181-2 Hapow, W. H., 63, 103 Haldane, Lord, 104-6 Hamerton, P. G., 131 Hatch, E., 37 Hayward, F. H., 108, 175-6, 178-9 Hegel, 32, 33. 72; real and incidental wills, 97-108, 122-5; and Emerson, 133 Hobhouse, L. T., 33, 43, 101 Hodges, F., 155-7 Holmes, O 2s 07 ; Human qualities of mind, 145 Cs Huxley, T. H., significance of names, 16-7, 64, 65; Master-Gardener, 82-3, 110- 11 IGNORANCE of the study, 141-2 Instinct, 141-2 Interactions of men and women, 12-13 Intuitions, distinctive human characteristics, 145-7 JAMES, W., and Gladstone, 115, 119 Jay, Osborne, 173-5, 178-9 Johnson, Samuel, 21, 100 KANT, 13; 132, 141 Kepler, 70 Kipling, R., 50, 72; and Burns, 171 Law, W., 201-2 Yecky, W. E. H., 37, 108, 113-5 Lessing, 25 Locke, ]., 25, 20, S09, go Lowell, J. R., 102-3 Lyell, Sir C., 71 and orientation, McDouGALL, W., 175, 178-9 Maine, Sir H., 72 Martineau, J., Arnold, 169g . Master-principle in 81-8 Mathews, B., 28 Maudsley, H., 63 Mazzini, J., 26, 20, 31, 64 Mendelssohn, 63, 103 Michelet, J., 33, 34 Milton, J. 1., 37 Milton, John, 25, 26, 20, 41- 43, 48, 61 Montesquieu, 72 Morgan, C. Lloyd, 131, 142 Morley, H., 53 Mott, Sir F., 57 150, 167, 100; and society, 222 Miiller, Max, and Gladstone, 117-8, 120 Murray, G., 41, 60, 208 NE0O-COMMUNISTS, 159-63; in- sufficient basis of, 163-6 Neo-Individualists, 184-91 New England writers and rationalistic democracy, 26 New political perspective, 13- 15, 09-74, 81-8, 121, 151-4, 183-4, 1Q0-I Newton, Sir Isaac, 70 Norris, F., and stone, 119 OPTIMISM, ST Owen, R., 52 Pane, T., 128 Parry, Sir H., 136-8, 168-9, 179 Pebody, C., 43, 48 Politics, a training needed for its practice, 65 Press, the, 40-50 Price, R., 33, 120 Proctor, A., an unknown factor in society, 84-5 a false form of, Psychology, personal and social as distinct forms, 05-6, 122 RABBLE, 13, 24 Rationalism dominated by feeling, 24; its insuffi- ciency, 25-30, 69-78; a passing theory, 87-8; man though the only reasoning creature, yet not rational, 140-51; unscientific exalt- ation of rationalism, 215 Reactionaries, 34-9 Reid, Sir A., 157 Rivers, W. H. R,, 20 Ross, E. A., 176 : : Rousseau, 32, 88; his social wills, 89-96, 122-5; an Emerson, 133 INDEX SALEEBY, C. W., 45, 161 Scott, Robertson, 167 Seneocratic influences, 23 Shakespeare, 14-5, 16, 28, 29, 70 Sharp, D., 138 Simon, Sir John, 93 Social wills, 89-96 Socrates, 89, qo Spencer, H., 65, 72, 100, 202, 203-4 Stubbs, Bishop, and Glad- stone, 116 Sully, J., 44 Symonds, J. A., 29 Symons, A., 28 TAMMANY and geneocracy, 22 Tansley, A. G., 162 Tarde, 131, 143 Tawney, R. H., 208-9 Tayler, |: T., 130 Tayler, J. L., The Study of Individuals, 13 Taylor, Jeremy, 41, 8&6 The Times, 61 Thought and will as dis- tinctive human character- istics, 145 Trotter, W., 150 IINITARY: or harmonious ideals of social needs, 140 UrWwick, E.M., 139 VAUGHAN, W. W., 208-9 Vico, 72 WaLLAS, GRAHAM, 32, 37, 138 War as a revealer of low mind standards, 04-5 Washington, Booker TT; 45-6 White, A. 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