The Parents' Review
A Monthly Magazine of Home-Training and Culture
Edited by Charlotte Mason.
"Education is an atmosphere, a discipline, a life."
______________________________________
Altruism
by Lieut.-Colonel The Hon. James Baker
Volume 14, 1903, pgs. 106-111
[Dear Madam—Most persons interested in Education—and more especially
in Military Education—must during the past year have read with
pleasure the many letters appearing on this subject in the Times,
Morning Post, and United Service Gazette, over the signature James
Baker, Lieut.-Colonel, Inglewood, Parkstone, Dorset. Those who heard
his notable lecture on "Education," delivered last May in the theatre
of the Royal United Service Institution—since published in the August
Journal of that Institution—will undoubtedly attach even greater
weight to his opinions. Those who, like myself, have the honour of
Colonel Baker's acquaintance, can even better appreciate the sound
judgment, ripe experience, and tempered enthusiasm, which are the
foundation of all his educational ideas. It is because I am firmly
convinced that Colonel Baker's words will be an inspiration to parents
and teachers everywhere, that I venture to send you for publication in
the Parents' Review a lecture of his, delivered at Victoria, British
Columbia. Colonel Baker is the last of a famous trio of brothers. The
names of Sir Samuel and Valentine will for all time be connected with
those of England's most famous explorers and cavalry leaders. In a
different field—that of Education—Colonel James Baker has led a somewhat
less strenuous life. England's need just now is perhaps even greater
for educationalists than for explorers or cavalry leaders. For
England's sake, let us hope that the last of the brothers will not be
the least famous of the three.
Yours faithfully,
Royal Military Academy, Woolwich, B. R. Ward, Major R.E.]
December 14th, 1902
It is good for us—it is both useful as well as instructive—to
occasionally turn aside from the busy hum, the daily routine and
mechanism of life, in order to study what I may term the motors of
society, because, by so doing, we are the better able to understand and
appreciate the various forces which are acting upon the temporary
habitation of the mind—the body—and which are impelling us either
upwards or downwards along the complicated path of evolution according
to the direction which we may give to the mysterious and inherited
force of "free will" which is at the disposal of every sane man and
sane woman.
A student who endeavours to fathom the depths of sociology soon becomes
attracted by the hypothesis of the continuity and augmentation of
thought. He realizes that the mind of man is not only influenced and
formed by his present environment, but that he is more or less an
inheritor of thoughts and conclusions of individuals and generations
who have preceded him. For example, the philosophy of Plato, the
science of Aristotle, the logic of Socrates did not die and pass away
with the decay of their bodies, but they continued to live and are
living still to take temporary habitation in the minds and bodies of
present and future generations.
And so it is with every individual thought; it forms one of the many
units which make up the general evolution of mind, and it will have an
impelling or retarding effect upon that evolution according to the
disposal of the free will of the individual.
This free will is a mystery in life, and as yet is far beyond our ken,
but we are able to recognise the eternity of mind, by means of
induction, from the experience of the past and the consequent
deductions for the future.
Continuity and augmentation of thought are not mere mental conceptions,
but they have been given a substantial form by means of writing and the
printing press. A new conception of the mind comes to us by what we
call intuition, but that is merely a term which is so indefinite as to
mark its uncertainty. How we obtain our ideas we cannot always prove.
They may be around us, although invisible—an onward wave of
progressive thought which beats against our sensitive brain and leaves
some impress there.
But a short time ago we should have laughed to scorn the man who
asserted that he could see through a deal door, but we now know how
effectively it can be done by means of the Rontgen rays. And so,
perhaps, in the far future we may be permitted to see and recognise the
mysterious forces which surround us, and which are shaping our thoughts
and actions.
But what I want to impress upon you now is that your mind—or soul, if
you like so to call it—will go on for-ever, and that you therefore
have a selfish and personal interest in the future. Whatever the
measure of improvement in your mind now, so much will it have gained or
added to it in the future; whatever the measure of debasement in your
mind now, so much lost ground will it have to make good in the
future—as you sow you will reap. This is not only an axiom of
religion, but it is being verified by scientific research. Science has
revealed to us two great forces in nature—the force of evolution, or
the lifting up of life to a higher order of being, and the force of
degeneration, or the gravitation of life towards its primitive form of
existence. The dawn of this knowledge was visible in early forms of
religion which recognised a creating and a destroying angel, and we
recognise it ourselves through our conceptions of God and the devil.
Between these two contending forces of evolution and degeneration there
stands the mysterious power of free will. We are conscious of its
possession, but that is all we know about it.
To gravitate towards a lower order of being is so easy that it requires
no effort, it is assisted by the force of gravitation; but to be lifted
up to a higher level requires effort. Now, all effort must be at the
expense of some other force in nature and produces change, and this
change to a higher order of being is evolution.
Scientific research has always indicated certain species and organisms
which have all the attributes of degeneration, and there is an
interesting example of this gravitation to a lower level in one of the
Ascidians known to boys as the "sea-squirt," which is found in the
seaweed among the rocks at low water. In appearance it is an oval-
shaped, fleshy lump of seaweed, with two orifices at the top. With one
it sucks in sea water, and squirts it out with the other in a fatuous
sort of manner. But if this apparent lump of seaweed is dissected, it
is found to contain a stomach and other organs somewhat resembling
those of a human being, and it is a curious fact that the young of this
Ascidian are little animals, very similar to young tadpoles, which swim
about in the water and after a time fix on to the rocks. Their tails
then disappear by atrophy, and it gradually assumes the seaweed form of
the sea-squirt. We thus have a short epitome of degeneration in the
ontological history of the sea-squirt, which evidently once occupied a
far higher position in the scale of life.
We are accustomed to talk of so-and-so as having been a good fellow,
but that he has completely run to seed—degenerated, in fact,—and when
we look upon the melancholy spectacle of a poor drunken sot, we ask
ourselves, what of his further degeneration? It is one of the functions
of Altruism to knit together the units of society in order that they
may mutually support each other in the effort to rise to a higher plane
of existence, and the teachers of our public schools have cast upon
them a grave responsibility in this respect, inasmuch as they have
committed to their charge the moulding of immature minds at an age when
inherited tendencies are easily directed to either higher or lower aims.
It is a matter of every-day experience that the mind is greatly
influenced by its environment. Place a young boy among bad associates,
and he soon becomes contaminated by their vices; on the other hand, let
him be living with those whose thoughts and actions are manly and
noble, and he will rise in the scale of humanity—in either case his
inherited tendencies will be respectively debased or exalted by his
environment. But if you acknowledge the eternity of mind, and if you
also acknowledge that mind is greatly influenced by its environment,
then you are bound to recognise the obvious fact that the more you can
improve the environment—or society—of the future, the greater must be
the improvement in your own mind or soul. Therefore, it is not only to
your interest to improve society in the present, but it is equally to
your interest to submit to present sacrifice, if necessary, in order to
improve society in the future, when it will also form part of your
environment.
The span of bodily life is merely a pulsation in the progress of the
soul, and nature affords us many examples of this rhythmic motion. The
day alternates with night, the summer with winter; the trees put forth
and drop their leaves in regular cadence; we sleep at night to awake in
the morning; we take our long rest at the close of bodily life that our
soul may awaken refreshed for further activity in a new habitation. But
the measure of the rhythm varies greatly in length.
There is no such thing as absolute rest in nature, but everything is
more or less in motion—even the atoms of a solid piece of iron or any
other metal are in a constant state of vibration. Neither is there any
such thing as complete destruction; there is only—change.
And so it is with the mind; it is in progressive motion, and every unit
of society has a permanent interest in the movement. Hence the
paramount importance of Altruism, or duty towards your neighbour, as a
function of sociology.
Now, how shall I convey to you the thoughts which are in my mind upon
this subject? Has it ever occurred to you how thoughts are conveyed from
one to another? I must first produce an effort of that mysterious power
called my Will to give direction to my brain. After that, the mechanical
process sets in. My brain, acting under directions from my will,
telegraphs by means of my nerves to certain muscles, which act upon my
lungs and tongue; the movement of my lungs creates a current of air
through my throat and mouth, and produces what we call sound; the
movements of my tongue give inflexions to this sound and form language;
the vibrations of this language act upon the particles of air, which
impinge upon the drums of your ears, and from thence are conveyed by
your nerves to the diaphragm of your brains, upon which they are
indented, to be afterwards at the disposal of individual will—and so
my thoughts are conveyed to you. It is therefore apparent that a
mechanical process is necessary before my thoughts can be placed in
conjunction with your thoughts, and the velocity with which thoughts
can be transmitted from one to another by this vocal process is limited
to the velocity of sound, but at no time is it very great. For example,
the sound from the firing of an ordinary cannon would travel at the
rate of about thirteen hundred feet per second. But, by means of
mechanical contrivances, we are now able to greatly increase not only
the velocity but also the distance over which thoughts can be
transmitted. The telephone is a long wire with a diaphragm at each end
of it; the vibrations of language strike against the diaphragm at one
end; from there they are carried by the electric current—which travels
at about the same speed as light, or one hundred and eighty-five
thousand miles in one second—to the diaphragm at the other end of the
wire, and from thence to the drum of the ear of the listener, and so to
his brain. By means of the telegraph and the electric current, we can
transmit our thoughts at the velocity of one hundred and eighty-five
thousand miles per second to almost any part of the world, but in this
case, the eye and the hand become factors in the operation instead of
the voice and the ear. Then, again, the printing press enables us to
strike off any number of copies of our thoughts, and to distribute them
among a large number of people in a comparatively short space of time.
Therefore, by means of the press and the telegraph, we are able to have
placed upon our breakfast table every morning the thoughts of numbers
of people from all parts of the world a few hours after the thinking
process. Now, you may ask, what has this to do with Altruism? It has a
most important bearing upon it, because scientific discovery and
mechanical contrivance place us in closer touch with nature, and "a
touch of nature makes the whole world kin." It has the effect of
greatly enlarging our environment, or, in other words, of increasing
the area of our Altruism, and the responsibility cast upon us is
proportionate to this increase of area. Society hardly yet realizes the
grave importance of this increase in the velocity and distribution of
thought and the effect it is having upon the human race.
(To be continued.)
Altruism
by Lieut.-Colonel The Hon. James Baker
Volume 14, 1903, pg. 186
Part 2, continued from page 111
It may be well to dwell for a moment upon what we really understand by
the term Altruism. If you turn to the dictionaries, they will tell you
that Altruism is opposed to Egoism. But I think that is a misleading
explanation of the term, because, although Egoism may exist without
Altruism, Altruism cannot exist without Egoism. It should rather be
called complement or consort of Egoism. But I may, perhaps, be better
able to elucidate the question by placing it before you in the form of
an idyl. I will therefore ask you to call upon your imaginations for a
time, and to picture to yourselves a young man, in the prime of life
and in a state of nature, asleep upon the grass on a small but
beautiful and fertile island; and I will ask you to so conceive of him
that when he awakes he will be oblivious of the past and he will only
be cognizant of the circumstances of the present. He awakes, stretches
his supple limbs, and gazes around him with indolent curiosity. Soon a
craving for food comes upon him, and he wanders about the island in
search of something to satisfy his hunger, but he finds neither
habitation nor human being upon the island, and then he realizes that
he is alone upon the land, and that he must be dependent upon his own
exertions to provide himself with food, with raiment, and with shelter.
And so he labours day after day until, in course of time, he has
obtained for himself a fair standard of comfort. But you will observe
that this is entirely egoistic labour; he has neither thought nor care
for anyone but himself, and if he did not labour he would starve, and
his body would decay. Therefore, Egoism is necessary for existence. One
day, however, as he wends his way back to his solitary hut, he is
startled by the apparition of a human form lying asleep among the
flowers, and as he draws near and gazes upon the form of a beautiful
girl there comes upon him a great pity, which is akin to love, and soon
he realizes the poetic words, "I live to love, and because I love I
live"—and lo! the spirit of Altruism is breathed into his soul.
And now mark the change which comes over his being; note the cheerful
vigour he puts into his work. He has no longer to provide for himself
alone, but he has to labour for another, and it is a labour of love.
And this begets within him—mark the point—the spirit of sacrifice; he
is ready to bear any hardship, to cheerfully brave any danger, and to
forfeit his life if needs be—for what? For the welfare of a fellow-
being.
And she reciprocates the beautiful emotion, and in a hundred tender
ways lightens his burdens and ministers to his wants, and cleaves to
him in sunshine and in shadow, in sickness and in sorrow, until death
shall them, temporarily, part. Egoism has found a consort and become
Altruism. After a time there arrives the purest Altruism of all, in the
mother's love for her child. It is bone of her bone and flesh of her
flesh, and she slaves for it, nourishes it, sacrifices herself—mark
you—not only for its present but also for its future welfare, long
after she may have passed away in the flesh and be no more seen.
This maternal Altruism is typical of what the Altruism of society
should be. It should be prepared for present sacrifice, if necessary,
for the advancement of society in the future, and the sacrifice should
be a labour of love.
We are able to realize the wonderful power of self-sacrifice over the
human race by turning back the pages of history and noting the conduct
of the followers of Christ and the noble army of martyrs. And think you
that their sacrifice has been in vain? Nay; it has ennobled humanity.
But to return to our idyl. I have pictured to you the pure Altruism of
the family, which may be taken as the unit of society, and it is easy
to imagine the family expanded into a tribe and a tribe into a nation.
But, unfortunately, society has, as yet, advanced but a short distance
along the path of evolution, and it still inherits many of the savage
instincts of its animal progenitors, and must therefore be protected
against itself by means of laws.
Now, there is a law of nature called natural selection, or the survival
of the fittest, and by that law we find that, both in the animal and
vegetable kingdoms, one species wars against another species to wholly
or partially destroy it, and, as far as evolution has as yet advanced,
that law appears to be a necessity of life, otherwise the velocity of
propagation would be so great that in a very short time the sustenance
of the earth would not be sufficient to support the life which would be
upon it. There are minute organisms which propagate with such rapidity
that one pair will, if unchecked, increase in a fortnight to over
fourteen millions. I am very glad that they do not require education!
We therefore find that life is a battlefield, and that in the struggle
for existence, the stronger overcomes and dominates the weaker, and we
can clearly see that the result of this law must tend towards the
minority dominating the majority, because, in the perpetual struggle
for existence, the fittest can only survive through the extermination
or subjection of the greater number. But, when we say that the stronger
overcomes and dominates the weaker, what do we mean by the term
"stronger"? We find that, in the process of evolution, there are two
forces in operation—the physical force, or development of the
organism, and the psychical force, or the development of the mind. They
may be designated co-operative forces, because we are not yet able to
recognise one apart from the other. If we place a weak mind in a strong
body, it will tend to lead the body to destruction; on the other hand,
if we place a strong mind in a weak body, it will tend to wear out the
latter, and, in either case, the forces will cease to be co-operative.
To put the case mathematically, we may therefore say that the greatest
effect is obtained from the sum of the two forces when the ratio of one
to the other makes unity, and when such is the case the power of the
sum of the forces will naturally vary directly as the power of the
components. This reminds us of the quotation, "Mens sana in corpore
sano"—"A sound mind is a sound body." And nature offers us a useful
object lesson by proving the importance of duly cultivating the
strength and healthiness of the body at the same time as we are
cultivating the strength of the mind, which marks the necessity for
healthy recreation.
Now, the higher we ascend in the scale of evolution the nearer do we
approach to perfect unity in the ratio between the physical and
psychical forces. But in the earlier stages of human existence—in the
days of primitive man—we find the physical force of brute strength the
predominant factor in the ascendancy of one man over his fellow-men.
"Might became right." And we recognise the same motive and its
equivalent effect among the savages of the present age.
My brother told me that on one occasion, when he was in Central Africa,
he was entertained by a savage potentate, and in return he made him a
present of a rifle, and after explaining its destructive powers he
showed him how to use it. The savage was quite delighted, and
immediately began to fire at some women who were drawing water at a
neighbouring well, and he killed one poor woman before he could be
stopped. This savage did not feel as much concern over the death of the
woman as I should over the death of a mouse. His Altruism was entirely
overshadowed by his Egoism—in his eyes might was right. But as we
ascend in the scale of evolution, and the psychical power becomes more
developed in us, we recognise that the fiat that might shall be right
must be reversed, and that for the future "right shall be might."
The law of the survival of the fittest is sometimes advanced by
individualists as an argument in favour of one portion of society being
permitted to prey upon another portion. It is pointed out that because
there is no such thing as perfect equality in nature, either in the
animal or vegetable kingdom; therefore, for the sake of sustenance for
the whole, it is evidently intended that the weakest should go to the
wall, and, consequently, our motto should be "every man for himself,
and the devil take the hindmost." But in this argument we detect the
hereditary taint of our brute existence; it is the old formula that
"might shall be right." It is useless, however, for the advocates of
that egoistic principle to attempt to ignore, in the present age, the
progressive spirit of Altruism which has illuminated the human race,
and which has also written its name upon the pages of history through
centuries upon centuries of contests between Demos and Aristos, Plebs
and Patrician, and in a hundred other ways, as finger-posts on the road
to justice. It has revealed to us the law that "right shall be might,"
and the problems which now has to be solved is this: "When shall man be
evolved to such a degree as to be competent to enact laws which shall
give to every unit of society equality of opportunity, and at the same
time proportion the number of units to the productiveness of their
environment?"
This would be carrying out the law of the survival of the fittest in a
higher sense; it would be Altruism perfected by making the greater more
fitted to survive. I do not mean that we should arrive at an equality
of mental capacity in all human beings—God forbid, because to do that
would bring evolution to a standstill—but we should cultivate the
field of choice, we should raise the general standard of humanity and
still retain the standard bearers to lead on their followers to higher
planes. The goal, however, is still far distant, but when it is
reached, then Mammon will be dethroned and Intellect [Character?—Ed.]
will be king.
We are now passing through a transition stage as the result of rapid
scientific discovery, and society has not yet had time to equilibrate
the new forces which have been brought to bear upon its progress. But,
already, the effect has been to give a great stimulus to Altruism, and
the last half century has afforded us numerous examples of the
practical working of this important function of evolution, both in the
major and minor affairs of life.
I may mention free education, the Factory Ants, County Councils,
Mechanics' Lien Act, the Postal Union, Savings Banks, the numerous
Benevolent Societies, Co-operative Societies, the Society for the
Prevention of Cruelty to Children, the similar Society (and no less
needed) for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, besides many others.
Then we have the agitation in favour of International Arbitration, for
Imperial Federation, for an International currency, weights, and
measures, and all of these are Altruistic movements of the last half
century. Even in my own profession, the movement is most marked in the
greater care and comfort bestowed upon the private soldier and the
closer sympathy between officers and men, and in minor details there is
the curious evidence of the advance of military Altruism by the manner
in which a company is formed for maneuvre. In my time, the captain of a
company sized his men by placing the tallest on the flanks, so as to
present a smart and uniform appearance; but now that is all changed,
and Altruism takes precedence. Comradeship is the rule, and the closest
chums are placed next each other so as to bring their Altruism to bear
in time of danger. In fact, the closer we look into the working of
society, the more we become aware of the wonderful advance which has
been and is being made in Altruistic tendencies.
We frequently hear the present age called an age of frivolity, and
"laissez faire," and in many ways the charge is, unfortunately, only
too true, but there is a strong under-current of sound progressive
thought, which, as it gathers strength from tributary channels, will
sweep away all the eddies of folly and frivolity, and will, let us
hope, scour out a broad channel for the onward flow of the nobler
traits of humanity.
I have endeavoured to point out how Altruism takes its source from the
family, and I have shown that, in the family, the mother is the paramount
cause of Altruism, and this proves to us the pre-eminent part which
woman plays in the ethics of society.
We have recognised, also, two forces which are acting upon society—
the force of evolution and the force of degeneration. The former has
partially lifted man out of his brute existence, but his inherited
animal tendencies still cling to him and produce that dual character of
the individual which is so familiar to us all, and which demands from
us so much charity in our judgment of the conduct of our fellow-beings.
The surging passions of man's worser self—of greed, or gluttony, or
lust, or plunder, varying both in kind and in degree according to the
inherited tendency and vigour of his temperament—ofttimes seize upon
him, struggle with him, master him, drag him to the very brink of the
abyss, when, suddenly, his course is arrested and he is held back by
the force of conscience—which carries the echo of the mother's voice—
and then, for a time, he loaths his worser self.
But the flow of maternal Altruism is naturally interrupted when the
child first enters public school, and a large portion of the maternal
responsibility then devolves upon the public school teacher. To
restrain his enthusiasm he is, however, prohibited by law in British
Columbia from teaching the young child any form or kind of religion.
Strange irony on the derivation of the world "religo"—"I bind again!"
But the teacher is permitted to inculcate the highest morality, and he
thus becomes, in a partial sense, a delegate from the mother to further
the progress of the child, mentally, morally, and physically as a unit
of society. It is a responsibility which should never be undertaken
without a due appreciation of the gravity of the situation. The gauging
of inherited tendencies in immature minds, and the patient labour of
directing and restraining them in proper channels, is an honourable
task which should carry with it some of the best rewards which society
can bestow, and the time will assuredly come when the conscientious
performance of such important duties will be duly recognised.
In conclusion, I would submit for the consideration of public school
teachers the advisability of occasionally laying aside their books, in
order to talk to the pupils, so as to relieve their young minds of the
mechanism and monotony of routine, and to enlighten them on various
topics of interest and usefulness. And, among other things, what might
you tell them? Let us take the boys. Appeal to their manliness and to
their courage; tell them life is a battlefield and they are the
soldiers marching as to war, and that they will find every kind of
impediment strewn along their route, and that if they wish for victory
and success, they must stand shoulder to shoulder in the struggle for
existence and fight for it. They must be brave collectively as well as
individually; they must be loyal to their army, which is society. Tell
them that the very soul of an army is made up of discipline and
duty—and dwell upon that word "duty." Make it a point of honour; tell
them that the man who neglects to do his daily duty conscientiously is
as false as the coward who deserts his post in the hour of danger—for
there is always danger in neglect of duty; warn them to expect many
failures, both in their material and moral aims—ah, how many! But when
they are thwarted, obstructed, and beaten down, perchance by their own
inherited tendencies, bid them not to despair or to be downhearted, but
to be up again and manfully to press on through every difficulty,
danger, and temptation until they reach the front and the din, the
excitement, and the glory of the open battle. Warn them that, in
avoiding the Scylla of care and hypocrisy, to beware lest they drift on
to the Charybdis of debauchery, for many a young man's life has been
wrecked from that very cause. Teach them reverence for woman, and tell
them that the man who scoffs at woman scoffs at his own mother, and the
man who scoffs at his own mother is sliding down—down to the very
depths of Avernus.
[Scylla and Charybdis are mythological monsters said to have been turned into a rock and a whirlpool - so, the analogy might be likened to being between a rock and a hard place, or going from the fire to thr frying pan.]
And the girls—Ah! what shall you tell them? Tell them that they are
the source of Altruism, and that men are—what women make them.
Proofread by Leslie Noelani Laurio, December 2008
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