THE CANT OF ANTI-OPPORTUNISM.
WE published in our last week's issue a letter taunting the Spectator with willingness to threaten Peru with punishment because Peru is weak. The writer told a story of a boy at school who, having undertaken to protect a smaller boy, always fought any one who persecuted his little protege, unless the bully looked too strong. The boy, our correspondent implies, should not have undertaken to rid his friend of his weaker persecutors, since he could not stand up to the stronger ones.
This is the point of view which we have called " The Cant of Anti-Opportunism "—a very prevalent cant at the present day, and one which could only have arisen in a very self-con- scious age. If a tall man sees a child drowning in five feet of water is he to leave it to its fate because he is not perfectly cer- tain that had the water been three feet deeper he would have dared to plunge in ? Most of us do not aspire to much heroism, but we are not therefore going to stand still to be told that there is no use in our doing anything that is right or trying to resist anything that is wrong. The result of our corre- spondent's theory would be that the pursuit of virtue would be left to saints and heroes. The great army of the ordinary men, who defend righteousness, whose battle-cry is called public opinion, would be reduced to a small company of officers without force behind them.
There is no end to the cheap criticism of the man who indulges in the cant of anti-opportunism. There are certain conventional phrases, which we all know to be conventional, behind which we all shelter ourselves from endless and fruit- less argumentation. For instance, when we have assisted our neighbour to the extent to which we can assist him without altogether altering our way of life we say that we have done all in our power. It is, of course, easy to argue that without risking our lives we might have done more. It might be the duty of the moralist to point out that our conventional phrases are, indeed, only conventionalisms ; that we have still strength to make a greater sacrifice ; but it cannot be any one's duty to tell us that since we have no intention of living wholly for others we had better live wholly for ourselves.
At first sight it very often seems as if the cant of anti- opportunism were in reality the voice of virtue, but is it so ? As a matter of fact, it is as often as not nothing whatever but the voice of sentimental egoism. We have all of us heard the voice in our own minds, and smiled rather bitterly as we recognized its deception. What credit is there, we have all said to ourselves, to be got from defeating a small foe ? Almost as many good works are left undone because they are easy as because they are difficult. No one is willing for the little jobs to which no credit attaches. Had the schoolboy in question done nothing for his friend he would not have been held up as a warning. We shirk what we could do because we fear we shall be ridiculed ; we shall, indeed, ridicule ourselves. But if we look at the matter from that dull and unromantic point of view—the moral point of view—we shall see that what matters is the accomplishment of our end, not the increase of our credit. If the little foe we are about to tackle is the sworn enemy of righteousness we have every reason to be thankful that he is small, and that we [can coerce him. If our duty is easy so much the better. We must, of course, give up the joy of parading before our own looking-glass in the robes of a conqueror, and try to get satis- faction out of the thought that we have done some good. Human nature being what it is, we all desire to hear the shout that proclaims the hero—even a very little hero—but if we are to do right we must make up our minds to go without it.
There is nothing quite so foolish in life as to pour contempt
upon the path of least resistance. Of course, if we take the metaphor in its literal sense it is a path which leads downhill, but in the ordinary sense of the phrase it is a path which, while makinc, occasional circuits to avoid
obstacles, leads upwards. The direct road may often be the best for the man who can scale the obstacles therein, but to declare that no other path leads to the goal is absurd. As a rule, the fate of those who never go round is never to arrive. Moreover, the path of most resistance is by no means always the direct way ; it is very often simply the most con- spicuous way. In ordinary life half the men and women who refuse all compromise, choose the hardest road, and prefer to walk it alone rather than make a detour are actuated not so much by regard for their principles as by regard for their dignity. They have made up their minds that all compromise is unbecoming, so they will make none. By giving in a little they could often obtain all that is essential to their cause ; but in order to give in even a little they have to forgo, not their end, but their triumph and the delicious sight of their opponents' defeat. If we give our opponent something, though it may be some- thing we do not want, we give him the right to say he is not defeated at all ; he may even say he has gained a moral vic- tory, and it is too irritating to have to hear him say it. Never- theless, men who win causes are able, as a rule, to stand that amount of personal disappointment, and can bear the unctuous blame of the anti-opportunists.
Very often, again, we hear men boast of having refused to grant a favour solely because they have not been properly approached. They harden their hearts with the cant of anti- opportunism. So keen are they in -the preservation of their own dignity that they lose sight altogether of the rights of the matter at issue. The request may be reason- able; that has no meaning for them if the man who asks it is rude. It never occurs to them that his rudeness comes of nothing more than an uncompromising disposition like their own, or perhaps only from an overmastering desire. " We are not opportunists," they say to themselves; "they will find that no amount of bullying will influence our judg- ment." But in point of fact it does influence their judgment very much indeed ; in many cases it altogether upsets it. They refuse a favour which their judgment would have prompted them to concede, and not because, as they fondly imagine, they are strong, but simply because they are touchy.
The path of most resistance is often mistaken by the anti-opportunist fanatic for the way of life. The superficial resemblance consists, as a rule, in this, that the two paths are both narrow, and there the resemblance ends. In the path of most resistance very few people can walk abreast. Without giving in there is no possibility of combination, and what can one man do alone ? Great men have done much, but most of us can do nothing. Where argument is concerned the path of most resistance is, as a rule, a blind alley. The propagandist who presses forward to his point, making no detour to avoid contact with other men's convictions, brings up, as a rule, very far from the truth, and will certainly make no con- versions. The object of life—what we may anyhow call the public object of life—is the attainment of a higher stage of civilization. We must get on by straight or winding paths. There is no great end to be gained by riding alone in. a steeplechase for a show. Yet it is for that that many a man chooses the path of most resistance.
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