Handbook of Ethical Theory, George Stuart Fullerton [best book reader .txt] 📗

Between magic and religion it is not easy to draw a sharp line, especially when we view religion in the lower stages of its development. In both we have to do with what may be called the supernatural. Magic has been defined as the employment of mechanical means to attain the desired end. In religion, when it so far develops that its specific character seems clearly revealed, we have left the sphere of the mechanical.

The distinction between the mechanical and the spiritual is familiar to us in our dealings with our fellowmen. In such dealings we may employ physical force. On the other hand, we may appeal to their intelligence and their emotions, and thus influence their action. In so far as we do not make such an appeal, we deal with our fellows, not as though they belonged to our social environment, but to our physical.

At the lowest stages of his development, man does not distinguish clearly between persons and things. This means that he cannot distinguish clearly between his material environment and his social. But the distinction becomes gradually clearer, and it is, in the end, a marked one. Religion becomes differentiated from magic. To confound religion, in its higher developments, with magic is an inexcusable confusion.

74. RELIGION AND THE COMMUNITY.—The denotation of the term religion is a broad one, and there will probably always be dispute as to the justice of its extension to this or to that particular form of faith. But it seems clear that it is typical of religion to extend what may not unjustly be called the social environment of man.

Will is recognized other than the wills of the human beings constituting the community. To the part played by such wills a very great prominence may be given.

States may be theocratic, as among the ancient Hebrews; or church and state may share the dominion, or struggle between themselves for the supremacy, as in Europe in the Middle Ages; or the state may be theoretically supreme in authority and yet maintain and lend authority to a church. Even where church and state are, in theory, quite divorced—a modern conception—the church with its ordinances and prescriptions, its sacred days, its ceremonial, its educational institutions, remains a very significant factor in the social environment of man. Religious duties have at all times and in all sorts of societies been regarded as constituting an important aspect of conduct. They color strongly the mores of the community. Whole codes of morals may be referred to the teachings of certain religious leaders. They claim their authority on religious grounds.

The great significance of the role played by religion in the sphere of morals is impressed upon one who glances over the works of those writers who have approached the subject of ethics from the side of anthropology or sociology. A review of the facts has even tempted one of the most learned to seek the origin of morals almost wholly in religion. [Footnote: WUNDT, Ethics, Vol. I. “The Facts of the Moral Life”; see chapters ii and iii. English Translation, London, 1897.]

That religion should play an important part in giving birth to or modifying moral codes is not surprising. Man adjusts himself to his social environment as he conceives it. If the community of wills which he recognizes includes the wills of supernatural beings, it is natural that the social will which finds its expression in the organization of the state, in custom, in law and in public opinion, should be modified by such inclusion.

Nor is it surprising that the supernatural element should, at times, dwarf and render insignificant the other elements which enter into the social will. It may seem to man the all-important factor in his life.

Within the human community some individuals count for much more than do others. There are those who scarcely seem to have any voice in contributing to the character and direction of the social will. Others are influential; and, in extreme cases, the wills of the few, or even that of a single individual, may be the source of law for the many. If men come to the conclusion that the weal and woe of the community are dependent upon the will of the gods, or of God, they will unavoidably give frank recognition to that will above others, and such recognition will dictate conduct. The gods of Epicurus, leading a lazy existence in the interstellar spaces, indifferent to man and in no wise affecting his life, could scarcely become the objects of a cult. But the God of the Mahometan, of the Jew, or of the Christian, is a ruler to be feared, loved, obeyed. His will is law, and is determinative of conduct.

75. THE SPREAD OF THE COMMUNITY.—So far I have been speaking of the community properly so called, of the single group of human beings living its corporate life. But such groups do not normally remain in isolation. As the isolation of the group diminishes, as contacts between it and others become more numerous and more important, the necessity of conventions controlling the relations of groups becomes more pressing.

This implies the development of a broader social will, inclusive of the social wills of the several communities. This social will may be very feeble, and the bond between men belonging to different communities may be a weak one; or it may be vigorous, and furnish an intimate bond. The savage, to whom those beyond the pale of his tribe or small confederation are mere strangers, and probably enemies, stands at the lower limit of the scale; the trader, to whom the stranger is co-partner in a mutually profitable transaction, stands higher; the Stoic philosopher, cosmopolitan in thought and feeling, rating the claims of kindred and country as less significant than the bonds which unite all men in virtue of their common humanity, marks the other extreme. The spread of the social will grows marked as man rises in the scale of civilization. Barriers are broken down and limits are transcended.

This broader social will, like the narrower, reveals itself in the organization of society. We find confederations of tribes or states; alliances temporary or relatively permanent. And the broader social will modifies customs, gives birth to systems of law, and encourages the development of an inclusive humanitarian sentiment.

It does not necessarily obliterate old distinctions. The family, neighborhood, kindred, have their claims even under the most firmly organized of states; but those claims are limited and controlled. Even so, the broader social will may come to regard states as answerable for their decisions. International law remains to the present day what has aptly been called a pious wish. But public opinion prepares the way for law; and all states, whatever be their real aims, now attempt to justify their actions by an appeal to the more or less nebulous tribunal of international public opinion. In this they recognize its claim to act as arbiter. Within the jurisdiction of a state, the motto, “my family, right or wrong,” would not be a maxim approved in a court of justice. International law is made a mock of by the frank enunciation of the maxim, “my country, right or wrong.” Hence, such frankness is, in international relations, not encouraged.

The more or less skillfully made appeal to the moral sense of mankind—to the broader social will as public opinion—implies a certain recognition of its authority, or, at least, of its influence. Whether this is a definite step toward the granting of a real authority to the broader social will, an authority which will curb impartially the selfishness of individual states, it remains for the future to decide.