Two aspects of animal life impressed me most during the
journeys which I made in my youth in Eastern Siberia and Northern
Manchuria. One of them was the extreme severity of the struggle for
existence which most species of animals have to carry on against an
inclement Nature; the enormous destruction of life which
periodically results from natural agencies; and the consequent
paucity of life over the vast territory which fell under my
observation. And the other was, that even in those few spots where
animal life teemed in abundance, I failed to find—although I was
eagerly looking for it—that bitter struggle for the means of
existence, among animals belonging to the same species, which was
considered by most Darwinists (though not always by Darwin himself)
as the dominant characteristic of struggle for life, and the main
factor of evolution.
The terrible snow-storms which sweep over the northern
portion of Eurasia in the later part of the winter, and the glazed
frost that often follows them; the frosts and the snow-storms which
return every year in the second half of May, when the trees are
already in full blossom and insect life swarms everywhere; the
early frosts and, occasionally, the heavy snowfalls in July and
August, which suddenly destroy myriads of insects, as well as the
second broods of the birds in the prairies; the torrential rains,
due to the monsoons, which fall in more temperate regions in August
and September—resulting in inundations on a scale which is only
known in America and in Eastern Asia, and swamping, on the
plateaus, areas as wide as European States; and finally, the heavy
snowfalls, early in October, which eventually render a territory as
large as France and Germany, absolutely impracticable for
ruminants, and destroy them by the thousand—these were the
conditions under which I saw animal life struggling in Northern
Asia. They made me realize at an early date the overwhelming
importance in Nature of what Darwin described as "the natural
checks to over-multiplication," in comparison to the struggle
between individuals of the same species for the means of
subsistence, which may go on here and there, to some limited
extent, but never attains the importance of the former. Paucity of
life, under-population—not over-population—being the distinctive
feature of that immense part of the globe which we name Northern
Asia, I conceived since then serious doubts—which subsequent study
has only confirmed—as to the reality of that fearful competition
for food and life within each species, which was an article of
faith with most Darwinists, and, consequently, as to the dominant
part which this sort of competition was supposed to play in the
evolution of new species.
On the other hand, wherever I saw animal life in abundance,
as, for instance, on the lakes where scores of species and millions
of individuals came together to rear their progeny; in the colonies
of rodents; in the migrations of birds which took place at that
time on a truly American scale along the Usuri; and especially in a
migration of fallow-deer which I witnessed on the Amur, and during
which scores of thousands of these intelligent animals came
together from an immense territory, flying before the coming deep
snow, in order to cross the Amur where it is narrowest—in all these
scenes of animal life which passed before my eyes, I saw Mutual Aid
and Mutual Support carried on to an extent which made me suspect in
it a feature of the greatest importance for the maintenance of
life, the preservation of each species, and its further
evolution.
And finally, I saw among the semi-wild cattle and horses in
Transbaikalia, among the wild ruminants everywhere, the squirrels,
and so on, that when animals have to struggle against scarcity of
food, in consequence of one of the above-mentioned causes, the
whole of that portion of the species which is affected by the
calamity, comes out of the ordeal so much impoverished in vigour
and health, that no progressive evolution of the species can be
based upon such periods of keen competition.
Consequently, when my attention was drawn, later on, to the
relations between Darwinism and Sociology, I could agree with none
of the works and pamphlets that had been written upon this
important subject. They all endeavoured to prove that Man, owing to
his higher intelligence and knowledge, may mitigate the harshness
of the struggle for life between men; but they all recognized at
the same time that the struggle for the means of existence, of
every animal against all its congeners, and of every man against
all other men, was "a law of Nature." This view, however, I could
not accept, because I was persuaded that to admit a pitiless inner
war for life within each species, and to see in that war a
condition of progress, was to admit something which not only had
not yet been proved, but also lacked confirmation from direct
observation.
On the contrary, a lecture "On the Law of Mutual Aid," which
was delivered at a Russian Congress of Naturalists, in January
1880, by the well-known zoologist, Professor Kessler, the then Dean
of the St. Petersburg University, struck me as throwing a new light
on the whole subject. Kessler's idea was, that besides the law of
Mutual Struggle there is in Nature the law of Mutual Aid, which,
for the success of the struggle for life, and especially for the
progressive evolution of the species, is far more important than
the law of mutual contest. This suggestion—which was, in reality,
nothing but a further development of the ideas expressed by Darwin
himself in The Descent of Man—seemed to me so correct and of so
great an importance, that since I became acquainted with it (in
1883) I began to collect materials for further developing the idea,
which Kessler had only cursorily sketched in his lecture, but had
not lived to develop. He died in 1881.
In one point only I could not entirely endorse Kessler's
views. Kessler alluded to "parental feeling" and care for progeny
(see below, Chapter I) as to the source of mutual inclinations in
animals. However, to determine how far these two feelings have
really been at work in the evolution of sociable instincts, and how
far other instincts have been at work in the same direction, seems
to me a quite distinct and a very wide question, which we hardly
can discuss yet. It will be only after we have well established the
facts of mutual aid in different classes of animals, and their
importance for evolution, that we shall be able to study what
belongs in the evolution of sociable feelings, to parental
feelings, and what to sociability proper—the latter having
evidently its origin at the earliest stages of the evolution of the
animal world, perhaps even at the "colony-stages." I consequently
directed my chief attention to establishing first of all, the
importance of the Mutual Aid factor of evolution, leaving to
ulterior research the task of discovering the origin of the Mutual
Aid instinct in Nature.
The importance of the Mutual Aid factor—"if its generality
could only be demonstrated"—did not escape the naturalist's genius
so manifest in Goethe. When Eckermann told once to Goethe—it was in
1827—that two little wren-fledglings, which had run away from him,
were found by him next day in the nest of robin redbreasts
(Rothkehlchen), which fed the little ones, together with their own
youngsters, Goethe grew quite excited about this fact. He saw in it
a confirmation of his pantheistic views, and said:—"If it be true
that this feeding of a stranger goes through all Nature as
something having the character of a general law—then many an enigma
would be solved." He returned to this matter on the next day, and
most earnestly entreated Eckermann (who was, as is known, a
zoologist) to make a special study of the subject, adding that he
would surely come "to quite invaluable treasuries of results"
(Gespräche, edition of 1848, vol. iii. pp. 219, 221).
Unfortunately, this study was never made, although it is very
possible that Brehm, who has accumulated in his works such rich
materials relative to mutual aid among animals, might have been
inspired by Goethe's remark.
Several works of importance were published in the years
1872-1886, dealing with the intelligence and the mental life of
animals (they are mentioned in a footnote in Chapter I of this
book), and three of them dealt more especially with the subject
under consideration; namely, Les Societes animales, by Espinas
(Paris, 1877); La Lutte pour l'existence et l'association pout la
lutte, a lecture by J.L. Lanessan (April 1881); and Louis Buchner's
book, Liebe und Liebes-Leben in der Thierwelt, of which the first
edition appeared in 1882 or 1883, and a second, much enlarged, in
1885. But excellent though each of these works is, they leave ample
room for a work in which Mutual Aid would be considered, not only
as an argument in favour of a pre-human origin of moral instincts,
but also as a law of Nature and a factor of evolution. Espinas
devoted his main attention to such animal societies (ants, bees) as
are established upon a physiological division of labour, and though
his work is full of admirable hints in all possible directions, it
was written at a time when the evolution of human societies could
not yet be treated with the knowledge we now possess. Lanessan's
lecture has more the character of a brilliantly laid-out general
plan of a work, in which mutual support would be dealt with,
beginning with rocks in the sea, and then passing in review the
world of plants, of animals and men. As to Buchner's work,
suggestive though it is and rich in facts, I could not agree with
its leading idea. The book begins with a hymn to Love, and nearly
all its illustrations are intended to prove the existence of love
and sympathy among animals. However, to reduce animal sociability
to love and sympathy means to reduce its generality and its
importance, just as human ethics based upon love and personal
sympathy only have contributed to narrow the comprehension of the
moral feeling as a whole. It is not love to my neighbour—whom I
often do not know at all—which induces me to seize a pail of water
and to rush towards his house when I see it on fire; it is a far
wider, even though more vague feeling or instinct of human
solidarity and sociability which moves me. So it is also with
animals. It is not love, and not even sympathy (understood in its
proper sense) which induces a herd of ruminants or of horses to
form a ring in order to resist an attack of wolves; not love which
induces wolves to form a pack for hunting; not love which induces
kittens or lambs to play, or a dozen of species of young birds to
spend their days together in the autumn; and it is neither love nor
personal sympathy which induces many thousand fallow-deer scattered
over a territory as large as France to form into a score of
separate herds, all marching towards a given spot, in order to
cross there a river. It is a feeling infinitely wider than love or
personal sympathy—an instinct that has been slowly developed among
animals and men in the course of an extremely long evolution, and
which has taught animals and men alike the force they can borrow
from the practice of mutual aid and support, and the joys they can
find in social life.
The importance of this distinction will be easily appreciated
by the student of animal psychology, and the more so by the student
of human ethics. Love, sympathy and self-sacrifice certainly play
an immense part in the progressive development of our moral
feelings. But it is not love and not even sympathy upon which
Society is based in mankind. It is the conscience—be it only at the
stage of an instinct—of human solidarity. It is the unconscious
recognition of the force that is borrowed by each man from the
practice of mutual aid; of the close dependency of every one's
happiness upon the happiness of all; and of the sense of justice,
or equity, which brings the individual to consider the rights of
every other individual as equal to his own. Upon this broad and
necessary foundation the still higher moral feelings are developed.
But this subject lies outside the scope of the present work, and I
shall only indicate here a lecture, "Justice and Morality" which I
delivered in reply to Huxley's Ethics, and in which the subject has
been treated at some length.
Consequently I thought that a book, written on Mutual Aid as
a Law of Nature and a factor of evolution, might fill an important
gap. When Huxley issued, in 1888, his "Struggle-for-life" manifesto
(Struggle for Existence and its Bearing upon Man), which to my
appreciation was a very incorrect representation of the facts of
Nature, as one sees them in the bush and in the forest, I
communicated with the editor of the Nineteenth Century, asking him
whether he would give the hospitality of his review to an elaborate
reply to the views of one of the most prominent Darwinists; and Mr.
James Knowles received the proposal with fullest sympathy. I also
spoke of it to W. Bates. "Yes, certainly; that is true Darwinism,"
was his reply. "It is horrible what 'they' have made of Darwin.
Write these articles, and when they are printed, I will write to
you a letter which you may publish." Unfortunately, it took me
nearly seven years to write these articles, and when the last was
published, Bates was no longer living.
After having discussed the importance of mutual aid in
various classes of animals, I was evidently bound to discuss the
importance of the same factor in the evolution of Man. This was the
more necessary as there are a number of evolutionists who may not
refuse to admit the importance of mutual aid among animals, but
who, like Herbert Spencer, will refuse to admit it for Man. For
primitive Man—they maintain—war of each against all was the law of
life. In how far this assertion, which has been too willingly
repeated, without sufficient criticism, since the times of Hobbes,
is supported by what we know about the early phases of human
development, is discussed in the chapters given to the Savages and
the Barbarians.
The number and importance of mutual-aid institutions which
were developed by the creative genius of the savage and half-savage
masses, during the earliest clan-period of mankind and still more
during the next village-community period, and the immense influence
which these early institutions have exercised upon the subsequent
development of mankind, down to the present times, induced me to
extend my researches to the later, historical periods as well;
especially, to study that most interesting period—the free medieval
city republics, of which the universality and influence upon our
modern civilization have not yet been duly appreciated. And
finally, I have tried to indicate in brief the immense importance
which the mutual-support instincts, inherited by mankind from its
extremely long evolution, play even now in our modern society,
which is supposed to rest upon the principle: "every one for
himself, and the State for all," but which it never has succeeded,
nor will succeed in realizing.
It may be objected to this book that both animals and men are
represented in it under too favourable an aspect; that their
sociable qualities are insisted upon, while their anti-social and
self-asserting instincts are hardly touched upon. This was,
however, unavoidable. We have heard so much lately of the "harsh,
pitiless struggle for life," which was said to be carried on by
every animal against all other animals, every "savage" against all
other "savages," and every civilized man against all his
co-citizens—and these assertions have so much become an article of
faith—that it was necessary, first of all, to oppose to them a wide
series of facts showing animal and human life under a quite
different aspect. It was necessary to indicate the overwhelming
importance which sociable habits play in Nature and in the
progressive evolution of both the animal species and human beings:
to prove that they secure to animals a better protection from their
enemies, very often facilities for getting food and (winter
provisions, migrations, etc.), longevity, therefore a greater
facility for the development of intellectual faculties; and that
they have given to men, in addition to the same advantages, the
possibility of working out those institutions which have enabled
mankind to survive in its hard struggle against Nature, and to
progress, notwithstanding all the vicissitudes of its history. It
is a book on the law of Mutual Aid, viewed at as one of the chief
factors of evolution—not on all factors of evolution and their
respective values; and this first book had to be written, before
the latter could become possible.
I should certainly be the last to underrate the part which
the self-assertion of the individual has played in the evolution of
mankind. However, this subject requires, I believe, a much deeper
treatment than the one it has hitherto received. In the history of
mankind, individual self-assertion has often been, and continually
is, something quite different from, and far larger and deeper than,
the petty, unintelligent narrow-mindedness, which, with a large
class of writers, goes for "individualism" and "self-assertion."
Nor have history-making individuals been limited to those whom
historians have represented as heroes. My intention, consequently,
is, if circumstances permit it, to discuss separately the part
taken by the self-assertion of the individual in the progressive
evolution of mankind. I can only make in this place the following
general remark:—When the Mutual Aid institutions—the tribe, the
village community, the guilds, the medieval city—began, in the
course of history, to lose their primitive character, to be invaded
by parasitic growths, and thus to become hindrances to progress,
the revolt of individuals against these institutions took always
two different aspects. Part of those who rose up strove to purify
the old institutions, or to work out a higher form of commonwealth,
based upon the same Mutual Aid principles; they tried, for
instance, to introduce the principle of "compensation," instead of
the lex talionis, and later on, the pardon of offences, or a still
higher ideal of equality before the human conscience, in lieu of
"compensation," according to class-value. But at the very same
time, another portion of the same individual rebels endeavoured to
break down the protective institutions of mutual support, with no
other intention but to increase their own wealth and their own
powers. In this three-cornered contest, between the two classes of
revolted individuals and the supporters of what existed, lies the
real tragedy of history. But to delineate that contest, and
honestly to study the part played in the evolution of mankind by
each one of these three forces, would require at least as many
years as it took me to write this book.
Of works dealing with nearly the same subject, which have
been published since the publication of my articles on Mutual Aid
among Animals, I must mention The Lowell Lectures on the Ascent of
Man, by Henry Drummond (London, 1894), and The Origin and Growth of
the Moral Instinct, by A. Sutherland (London, 1898). Both are
constructed chiefly on the lines taken in Buchner's Love, and in
the second work the parental and familial feeling as the sole
influence at work in the development of the moral feelings has been
dealt with at some length. A third work dealing with man and
written on similar lines is The Principles of Sociology, by Prof.
F.A. Giddings, the first edition of which was published in 1896 at
New York and London, and the leading ideas of which were sketched
by the author in a pamphlet in 1894. I must leave, however, to
literary critics the task of discussing the points of contact,
resemblance, or divergence between these works and
mine.
The different chapters of this book were published first in
the Nineteenth Century ("Mutual Aid among Animals," in September
and November 1890; "Mutual Aid among Savages," in April 1891;
"Mutual Aid among the Barbarians," in January 1892; "Mutual Aid in
the Medieval City," in August and September 1894; and "Mutual Aid
amongst Modern Men," in January and June 1896). In bringing them
out in a book form my first intention was to embody in an Appendix
the mass of materials, as well as the discussion of several
secondary points, which had to be omitted in the review articles.
It appeared, however, that the Appendix would double the size of
the book, and I was compelled to abandon, or, at least, to postpone
its publication. The present Appendix includes the discussion of
only a few points which have been the matter of scientific
controversy during the last few years; and into the text I have
introduced only such matter as could be introduced without altering
the structure of the work.
I am glad of this opportunity for expressing to the editor of
the Nineteenth Century, Mr. James Knowles, my very best thanks,
both for the kind hospitality which he offered to these papers in
his review, as soon as he knew their general idea, and the
permission he kindly gave me to reprint them.