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If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Outlines of a Critical Theory of Ethics - -Author: John Dewey - -Release Date: October 4, 2019 [EBook #60422] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OUTLINES OF CRITICAL THEORY OF ETHICS *** - - - - -Produced by The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at -http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images -generously made available by The Internet Archive/American -Libraries.) - - - - - - - - - -TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE: - -Italics have been transcribed using _underscores_ and small capitals as -ALL CAPITALS. Inconsistencies in hyphenation and punctuation have not -been corrected. A list of other corrections can be found at the end of -the document. The Table of Contents is left as in the original and does -not list all of the subsections. - - - - - _For we are not children of the bond-woman, but of the - free._ - - _E pur se muove._ - - - - - OUTLINES - - OF A - - CRITICAL THEORY OF ETHICS - - - BY - - JOHN DEWEY - - Professor of Philosophy in the University of Michigan - - - ANN ARBOR, MICHIGAN REGISTER PUBLISHING COMPANY The Inland Press 1891. - - - - -Copyright, 1891. REGISTER PUBLISHING CO., Ann Arbor, Mich. - - - - -CONTENTS. - - - INTRODUCTION 1-12 - - - PART I.--FUNDAMENTAL ETHICAL NOTIONS. - - CHAPTER I.--_The Good_ 13-138 - Hedonism 14 - Utilitarianism 52 - Evolutionary Utilitarianism 67 - Kantianism 78 - Problem and Solution 95 - Realization of Individuality 97 - Ethical Postulate 127 - - CHAPTER II.--_The Idea of Obligation_ 139-158 - Bain's Theory 140 - Spencer's Theory 142 - Kant's Theory 147 - Its Real Nature 152 - - CHAPTER III.--_The Idea of Freedom_ 158-166 - Negative Freedom 158 - Potential Freedom 159 - Positive Freedom 164 - - - PART II.--THE ETHICAL WORLD. - - Social Relations 167 - Moral Institutions 169 - - - PART III.--THE MORAL LIFE OF THE INDIVIDUAL. - - Division of Subject 181 - - CHAPTER I.--_The Formation and Growth of Ideals_ 182-211 - Conscience 182 - Conscientiousness 199 - Development of Ideals 206 - - CHAPTER II.--_The Moral Struggle or the Realizing of Ideals_ 211-227 - Goodness as Struggle 211 - Badness 214 - Goodness and Badness 221 - - CHAPTER III.--_Realized Morality or the Virtues_ 227-233 - Cardinal Virtues 231 - - CONCLUSION 233-238 - - - - -PREFACE. - - -Although the following pages have taken shape in connection with -class-room work, they are intended as an independent contribution -to ethical science. It is commonly demanded of such a work that its -readers shall have some prefatory hint of its sources and deviations. -In accordance with this custom, I may state that for the backbone -of the theory here presented--the conception of the will as the -expression of ideas, and of social ideas; the notion of an objective -ethical world realized in institutions which afford moral ideals, -theatre and impetus to the individual; the notion of the moral life -as growth in freedom, as the individual finds and conforms to the law -of his social placing--for this backbone I am especially indebted to -Green's 'Prolegomena to Ethics', to Mr. Bradley's 'Ethical Studies', to -Professor Caird's 'Social Philosophy of Comte' and 'Critical Philosophy -of Kant' (to this latter book in particular my indebtedness is -fundamental), and to Alexander's 'Moral Order and Progress'. Although -I have not been able to adopt the stand-point or the method of Mr. -Spencer, or of Mr. Leslie Stephen my obligation to the 'Data of Ethics' -and to the 'Science of Ethics' (especially to the latter) is large. - -As to the specific forms which give a flesh and blood of its own to -this backbone, I may call attention to the idea of desire as the -ideal activity in contrast with actual possession; to the analysis of -individuality into function including capacity and environment; to the -treatment of the social bearings of science and art (a point concerning -which I am indebted to my friend, Mr. Franklin Ford); to the statement -of an ethical postulate; to the accounts of obligation, of moral rules, -and of moral badness. - -While the book is an analysis, in outline, of the main elements of the -theory of ethics rather than a discussion of all possible detailed -questions, it will not be found the less fitted, I hope, to give a -student an idea of the main methods and problems of contemporary -ethics. Other teachers, indeed, may agree that a general outline is -better than a blanket-mortgage spread over and forestalling all the -activity of the student's mind. - -I have not been unmindful of the advisability of avoiding in -presentation both undue polemic, and undue dogmatism without sufficient -reference to the statements of others. I hope the method hit upon, -of comparing opposite one-sided views with the aim of discovering a -theory apparently more adequate, will help keep the balance. I have -quoted freely from the chief modern authorities, hoping that the -tastes here given will tempt the reader to the banquet waiting in -the authors themselves. The occasional references introduced are not -bibliographical, nor intended as exhaustive statements of authorities -consulted; they are meant as aids to an intelligent reading on the part -of the general student. For this reason they are confined mainly to -modern English writings. - - - - -INTRODUCTION. - - -I. - -Definition of Ethics. - -The term ethics is derived from a Greek word meaning manners, customs, -habits, just as the term morals is derived from a Latin word with a -similar meaning. This suggests the character of the science as an -account of human action. Anthropology, ethnology, psychology, are also, -in their way, accounts of human action. But these latter branches of -knowledge simply _describe_, while the business of ethics is to _judge_. - -This does not mean that it belongs to ethics to prescribe what man -ought to do; but that its business is to detect the element of -obligation in conduct, to examine conduct to see what gives it its -_worth_. Anthropology, etc., do not take into account the _whole_ of -action, but simply some of its aspects--either external or internal. -Ethics deals with conduct in its entirety, with reference, that is, -to what makes it conduct, its _end_, its real meaning. Ethics is the -science of conduct, understanding by conduct man's activity in its -whole reach. - - Three of the branches of philosophy may be called - _normative_, implying that they deal with some _norm, - standard_ or _end_, estimating the value of their - respective subject-matters as tested by this end. These - are Logic, dealing with the end Truth, and the value of - intellectual processes with respect to it; Ęsthetics, - dealing with Beauty and the value of emotional conditions - as referred to it; and Ethics, as defined above. But this - norm in no case comes from outside the subject-matter; it - is the subject-matter considered in its totality. - - -II. - -Meaning of Moral. - -In its widest sense, the term moral or ethical means nothing more -than relating to conduct; having to do with practice, when we look at -conduct or practice from the point of view not of its occurrence, but -of its value. Action is something which takes place, and as such it -may be described like any objective fact. But action has also relation -to an end, and so considered it is _moral_. The first step in ethics -is to fix firmly in mind the idea that the term moral does not mean -any special or peculiar kind of conduct, but simply means practice and -action, conduct viewed not partially, but in connection with the end -which it realizes. - - It should be noted that the term moral has a wider and a - narrower sense. In the wider sense it means action in the - moral sphere, as opposed to _non_-moral, and thus includes - both good and bad conduct. In the narrower sense it means - moral, as opposed to _im_moral. See Bradley, Ethical - Studies, p. 53, note, for a further meaning. - - -III. - -Meaning of Conduct. - -Ethics then has to do with conduct or action viewed completely, or in -relation to its end. But what is conduct? It must be distinguished from -action in general; for any process of change, the working of a pump, -the growth of a plant, the barking of a dog, may be called action. -Conduct implies more than something taking place; it implies purpose, -motive, intention; that the agent knows what he is about, that he has -something which he is aiming at. All action accomplishes something or -brings about results, but conduct has the result _in view_. It occurs -for the sake of producing this result. Conduct does not simply, like -action in general, have a cause, but also a reason, and the reason is -present to the mind of the agent. There can be conduct only when there -is a being who can propose to himself, as an end to be reached by -himself, something which he regards as worth while. Such a being is a -moral agent, and his action, when conscious, is conduct. - - -IV. - -Division of Ethics. - -The main ethical problem is just this: What is the conduct that really -deserves the name of conduct, the conduct of which all other kinds -of action can be only a perverted or deflected form? Or, since it is -the end which gives action its moral value, what is the true end, -_summum bonum_ of man? Knowing this, we have a standard by which we -judge particular acts. Those which embody this end are _right_, others -wrong. The question of the rightness of conduct is simply a special -form of the question concerning the nature of the end or good. But -the end bears another relation to specific acts. They are not only -marked off by it as right or wrong, but they have to fulfill it. The -end or good decides what should be or _ought_ to be. Any act necessary -to fulfill the end is a _duty_. Our second inquiry will be as to the -nature of obligation or duty. Then we have to discuss the nature of a -being who is capable of action, of manifesting and realizing the end; -capable of right (or wrong) of obligatory and good action. This will -lead us to discuss the question of _Freedom, or Moral Capacity and its -Realization_. The discussion of these three abstract questions will -constitute Part I of our theory; Part II will take up the various forms -and institutions in which the good is objectively realized, the family, -state, etc.; while Part III will be devoted to an account of the moral -experience of the individual. - - -V. - -The Motive in Conduct. - -Before taking up the first problem presented, the nature of the good -or the end of conduct, it is necessary to analyze somewhat further -the various sides and factors of conduct in order to see where the -distinctly ethical element is to be found. The elements particularly -deserving consideration are (1) the Motive; (2) the Feelings or -Sentiments; (3) Consequences of the Act; (4) Character of Agent. We -shall begin with - -1. _The Motive._ The motive of the act is the end aimed at by the agent -in performing the act. Thus the motive of Julius Cęsar in crossing the -Rubicon was the whole series of results which he intended to reach by -that act of his. The motive of a person in coming to college is to gain -knowledge, to prepare himself for a certain profession. The motive is -thus identical with the ideal element of the action, the purpose in -view. - -2. _The Feelings or Disposition._ Some writers speak of the feelings -under which the agent acts as his motive. Thus we may suppose Julius -Cęsar 'moved' by the feelings of ambition, of revenge, etc., in -crossing the Rubicon. The student may be 'moved' by curiosity, by -vainglory, by emulation, by conscience, in coming to college. It is -better, however, to regard the motive as the reason for which the act -is performed, and to use the term moving or impelling cause for the -feelings in their relation to action. Thus we may imagine a parent -asking a child why he struck a playmate, meaning what was the motive -of the action. If the child should reply that he struck his playmate -because he was angry, this answer would give the moving cause or -impelling force of the action, but not its motive. The motive would -be the idea of punishing this playmate, of getting even with him, of -taking something away from him. The motive is the end which he desired -to reach by striking and on account of which he struck. This is implied -by the fact that the parent would ask, "What _made_ you _angry_?" - - -VI. - -Moral Bearing of These Distinctions. - -It is the feelings which supply the impelling force to action. They -may be termed, collectively, the _natural disposition_. The natural -disposition in itself has no _moral_ value. This has been well -illustrated by Bentham. - - Principles of Morals and Legislation, pp. 49-55. Bentham - here uses the term 'motive' to designate what we have - called the moving cause. - -We may select of the many examples which he gives that of curiosity. -We may imagine a boy spinning a top, reading a useful book and letting -a wild ox loose in a road. Now curiosity may be the 'motive' of each -of these acts, yet the first act would generally be called morally -indifferent, the second good, the third abominable. - -What we mean by the 'natural' feelings, then, is the feelings -considered in abstraction from activity: Benevolence, as a _mere_ -feeling, has no higher moral value than malevolence. But if it is -directed upon action it gets a value at once; let the end, the act, -be right, and benevolence becomes a name for a _moral_ disposition--a -tendency to _act_ in the due way. Nothing is more important than to -distinguish between mere sentiments, and feeling as an element in -conduct. - - -VII. - -Relation of Consequences and Conduct. - -Do the consequences of an act have anything to do with its morality? We -may say no, pointing to the fact that a man who does his best we call -good, although the consequences of his act may be far from good. We say -his purpose in acting was right, and using as he did all the knowledge -that he had, he is not to be blamed for its bad consequences. On the -other hand, it is evident that we do take into account consequences in -estimating the moral value of an act. Suppose, to use one of Bentham's -examples, a person were about to shoot an animal but foresaw that -in doing so there was a strong probability that he would also wound -some bystander. If he shot and the spectator were wounded, should we -not hold the agent morally responsible? Are there not multitudes of -intended acts of which we say that we cannot tell whether they are good -or bad until we know how they are likely to turn out? - -The solution of the difficulty is in recognizing the ambiguity of the -term 'consequences'. It may mean the whole outcome of the act. When I -speak, I set in motion the air, and its vibrations have, in turn, long -chains of effects. Whatever I do must have an endless succession of -'consequences' of which I can know but very little; just so far as, in -any act, I am ignorant of the conditions under which it is performed, -so far I am ignorant of its consequences. _Such_ consequences are -wholly irrelevant morally. They have no more to do with the morality of -the act than has the fact that the earth is revolving while the act is -taking place. - -But we may mean by consequences the _foreseen_ consequences of an -act. Just in the degree that any consequence is considered likely to -result from an act, just in that degree it gets moral value, for it -becomes _part of the act_ itself. The reason that in many cases we -cannot judge of the morality of an intended act until we can judge its -probable results, is that until we know of these results the action is -a mere abstraction, having no content at all. _The conceived results -constitute the content of the act to be performed._ They are not -merely relevant to its morality, but _are_ its moral quality. The -question is whether any consequence is foreseen, conceived, or not. The -foreseen, the _ideal_ consequences are the end of the act, and as such -form the _motive_. - - See on Sections 6 and 7, Alexander, Moral Order and - Progress, pp. 36-46; on Section 7, Green, Prolegomena to - Ethics, pp. 317-323. - - -VIII. - -Character and Conduct. - -We have seen that the moral sentiments, or the moral disposition -(distinguished from the feelings as passing emotions), on one side, -and the consequences as ideal or conceived (distinguished from the -consequences that, _de facto_, result), on the other, both have moral -value. If we take the moral feelings, not one by one, but as a whole, -as an _attitude_ of the agent toward conduct, as expressing the kind of -motives which upon the whole moves him to action, we have _character_. -And just so, if we take the consequences willed, not one by one, but -as a whole, as the kind of end which the agent endeavors to realize, -we have _conduct_. Character and conduct are, morally, the same thing, -looked at first inwardly and then outwardly. Character, except as -manifest in conduct, is a barren ideality. Our moral judgments are -always severe upon a man who has nothing to show but 'good intentions' -never executed. This is what character comes to, apart from conduct. -Our only way of telling the nature of character is the conduct that -issues from it. But, on the other hand, conduct is mere outward -formalism, excepting as it manifests character. To say that a man's -conduct is good, unless it is the manifestation of a good character, is -to pass a judgment which is self-contradictory. - - See Alexander, Op. cit., pp. 48-50 and p. 39. - -From this point of view we are enabled to identify the two senses of -motive already discussed--the ideal of action and the moving feelings. -Apart from each other they are abstractions. Cęsar's motive in -crossing the Rubicon may have been 'ambition,' but this was not some -bare feeling. It was a feeling of ambition produced in view of the -contemplation of a certain end which he wished to reach. So a boy's -motive in striking a playmate may be anger, but this means (if the -act is anything more than one of blind physical reaction) an anger -having its conscious cause and aim, and not some abstract feeling of -anger in general. The feeling which has its nature made what it is by -the conceived end, and the end which has ceased to be a bare abstract -conception and become an interest, are all one with each other. - -Morality is then a matter pertaining to character--to the feelings -and inclinations as transformed by ends of action; and to conduct--to -conceived ends transformed into act under the influence of emotions. -But what _kind_ of character, of conduct, is right or realizes its true -end? This brings us to our first problem. - - - - -PART I. - -FUNDAMENTAL ETHICAL NOTIONS. - - - - -CHAPTER I.--THE GOOD. - - -IX. - -Subdivision of Theories. - -We may recognize three main types of theories regarding the good, -of which the first two represent (we shall attempt to show) each -respectively one side of the truth, while the third combines the -one-sided truths of the other two. Of the first two theories one is -abstract, because it tends to find the good in the mere consequences -of conduct aside from character. This is the hedonistic theory, which -finds the good to be pleasure. This is either individualistic or -universalistic according as it takes individual or general pleasure -to be the good. The second type of theories attempts to find the good -in the motive of conduct apart from consequences even as willed; it -reduces the good to conformity to abstract moral law. The best type of -this theory is the Kantian. We shall criticize these theories with a -view to developing the factors necessary to a true moral theory. - - -X. - -Hedonism. - -According to the strict hedonistic position, the pleasure resulting -to the agent from his act is the end of conduct and is therefore the -criterion of its morality. The position as usually taken involves, -first, that pleasure is psychologically the sole motive to action; and, -secondly, that the results of an act in the way of the pain or pleasure -it produces are the only tests we have of the rightness of the act. - - It is said above that these two points are involved in - the hedonistic position as _usually_ taken. They are not - _necessarily_ involved. - - Sidgwick (Methods of Ethics, Bk. I, ch. IV and Bk. IV, - ch. I) holds that pleasure is not the object of desire - or motive of action, but that happiness is the moral - end and criterion. On the other hand Hodgson (Theory of - Practice, Vol. II, ch. II) holds that pleasure may be the - motive (in the sense of impelling force) but it is never - the criterion of conduct. Kant adopts the psychology of - hedonism regarding pleasure as the object of desire, but - holds that on that very account no object of desire can be - the standard of moral conduct. - - A good statement of strict individualistic hedonism is the - following from Barratt, Physical Ethics, page 71: "If man - aims at pleasure merely by the physical law of action, that - pleasure must evidently be ultimately his own, and whether - it be or not preceded by phenomena which he calls the pain - and pleasure of others, is a question not of principle but - of detail, just as the force of a pound weight is unaltered - whether it be composed of lead or of feathers, or whether - it act directly or through pulleys." - - -XI. - -The Hedonistic Position Supported. - -Hedonism holds that pleasure is both the natural end and the proper -criterion of action: - - The following quotation from Bentham (Principles of Morals - and Legislation, Works, Vol. I, p. 1) gives a statement - of both these elements. "Nature has placed man under the - governance of two sovereign masters, pain and pleasure. It - is for them alone to point out what we ought to do, [i. e. - they are criteria] as well as to determine what we shall do - [motives]. On the one hand, the standard of right or wrong - [criterion]; on the other the chain of causes and effects - [motives], are fastened to their throne." - -1. _Pleasure as Criterion._ That the tendency of an action to produce -pleasure is the standard for judging its moral value is generally held -by the hedonists to be so axiomatic as to be beyond argument. - - See Bain, Moral Science, p. 27. "The ultimate data must be - accepted as self-evident: they have no higher authority - than that mankind generally are disposed to accept them.... - Now there can be no proof offered for the position that - happiness is the proper end of all human pursuits, the - criterion of all right conduct. It is an ultimate or final - assumption to be tested by reference to the individual - judgment of mankind." So Bentham, Enquiry I, II, "The - principle is not susceptible of direct proofs for that - which is used to prove everything else can not itself be - proved; a chain of proofs must have their commencement - somewhere." Mill, Utilitarianism. (Dissertations and - Discussions, pp. 348-349). "The only proof capable of being - given that an object is visible is that people actually - see it. In like manner the sole evidence it is possible - to produce that anything is desirable is that people do - actually desire it." See Stephen, Science of Ethics, p. - 42; Spencer, Data of Ethics, pp. 30-32 and p. 46; Lotze, - Practical Philosophy, pp. 18-19: Sidgwick, Methods of - Ethics, pp. 368-369. - -Hedonism, then, represents the good or the desirable and pleasure to be -two names for the same fact. What indeed can be worth while unless it -be either enjoyable in itself or at least a means to enjoyment? Would -theft be considered bad if it resulted in pleasure or truth itself good -if its universal effect were pain? - -2. _Pleasure as object of desire._ It is also urged that psychological -analysis shows that pleasure is not only the desirable, but also always -the _desired_. Desire for an object is only a short way of saying -desire for the pleasure which that object may bring. To want food is to -want the pleasure it brings; to want scientific ability is to desire -to find satisfaction, or attain happiness. Thus it is laid down as a -general principle that the invariable object of desire, and motive -of action is some pleasure to be attained; the action itself and the -direct end of action being simply means to pleasure. - - For a strong statement of this doctrine see Mill, Op. cit., - pp. 354-5. "Desiring a thing and finding it pleasant, - aversion to it and thinking of it as painful, are phenomena - entirely inseparable, or rather two parts of the same - phenomenon,--in strictness of language, two different - modes of naming the same psychological fact; to think of - an object as desirable and to think of it as pleasant are - one and the same thing." See also, Bain, Emotions and Will, - p. 436, Senses and Intellect, pp. 338-344; Sully, Outlines - of Psychology, p. 575, "The inclination or tendency of the - active mind towards what is pleasurable and away from what - is painful is the essential fact in willing." Also pp. - 576-577. - - -XII. Criticism. - -Pleasure Not the End of Impulse. - -Taking up the points in reverse order, we shall endeavor to show -first, that the motive of action, in the sense of end aimed at, is not -pleasure. This point in itself, is, of course, rather psychological -than ethical. Taking up then the psychology of pleasure in its -connection with will, we shall discuss its relation to impulse, to -desire and to motive. - -It is generally agreed that the raw material of volition is found -in some form or other of the impulsive or instinctive actions. Such -tendencies (_e. g._, the impulse for food, for drink, for unimpeded -motion) clearly precede the reaching of an end, and hence the -experience of any pleasure in the end. Our first actions, at least, -are not for pleasure; on the contrary, there is an activity for -some independent end, and this end being reached there is pleasure -in an act which has succeeded. This suggests as a possible principle -that pleasure is not so much the end of action, as an element in the -activity which reaches an end. What Aristotle says of another matter -is certainly true of instinctive action. "It is not true of every -characteristic function that its action is attended with pleasure, -_except indeed the pleasure of attaining its end_." - - See Martineau, Types of Ethical Theory, Vol. II, pp. - 299-300; Sidgwick, Op. cit., pp. 38-45. - - -XIII. Criticism--_Continued_. - -Pleasure Not the End of Desire. - -It may, however, be said that, while our instinctive actions have -another end than pleasure, this is not true of conscious desires--that, -indeed, just the difference between instinct and desire is that the -former goes blindly to its end, while the latter superimposes the -thought of the pleasure to be reached upon the mere instinct. So we -have to analyze the nature of desire. - -A child, led by impulse, has put a piece of sugar into his mouth, -just as, under the same circumstances, he would put a piece of stone -into his mouth. But his action results in a state of pleasure wholly -unforseen by him. Now the next time the child sees the sugar he will -not merely have the impulse to put it in his mouth. There will also be -the remembrance of the pleasure enjoyed from sugar previously. There is -consciousness of sugar as satisfying impulse and hence desire for it. - -1. This is a description of an instance of desire. Does it bear us out -in the doctrine that pleasure is the object of desire? It is possible -that, in an irrational animal, the experience of eating food reinforces -the original instinct for it with associated images of pleasure. But -even this is very different from a desire for pleasure. It is simply -the primordial instinct intensified and rendered more acute by new -sensational factors joined to it. In the strict sense, there is still -no desire, but only _stronger_ impulse. Wherever there is desire there -is not only a feeling of pleasure associated with other feelings (_e. -g._, those of hunger, thirst), but there is the _consciousness of an -object in which satisfaction is found_. The error of the hedonistic -psychology is in omitting one's consciousness of an _object_ which -satisfies. The hedonists are quite right in holding that the end of -desire is not any object external to consciousness, but a condition of -consciousness itself. The error begins in eliminating all objective -(that is, active) elements from consciousness, and declaring it to be -a mere state of feeling or sensation. The practical consciousness, or -will, cannot be reduced to mere feeling, any more than the theoretical -consciousness, or knowledge, can be so reduced. - -Even Mill, in its statement of the hedonistic psychology, does not -succeed in making the object of desire mere pleasure as a state of -feeling. It is the "pleasant _thing_" and not pleasure alone which -he finds equivalent to the desire. It is true enough that sugar as -an external fact does not awaken desire, but it is equally true -that a child does not want a passive pleasure. What he wants is his -own activity in which he makes the sugar his own. And it should -be remembered that the case of sugar is at once a trivial and an -exceptional one. Not even children want simply sweet-meats; and the -larger the character which finds expression in wants, the more does -the direct object of want, the bread, the meat, become a mere element -in a larger system of activity. What a man wants is to live, and he -wants sweet-meats, amusements, etc., just as he wants substantials--on -account of their value in life. - - Professor James compares the idea that pleasure is the end - of desire to saying that "because no steamer can go to - sea without incidentally consuming coal, ... therefore no - steamer can go to sea for any other motive than that of - coal-consumption." Psychology, Vol. II, p. 558. See the - entire passage, pp. 549-559. - -2. But granting that an 'object' and a 'pleasure' are both necessary -to desire, it may be argued that the 'object' is ultimately a means -to 'pleasure.' This expressly raises a question already incidentally -touched upon: What is the controlling element in desire? Why is the -object thought of as pleasant? Simply because it is thought of as -satisfying want. The hedonists, says Green (Prolegomena to Ethics, p. -168), make the "mistake of supposing that a desire can be excited by -the anticipation of its own satisfaction." This is to say, of course, -that it exists before it exists, and thus brings itself into being. - - Green, Op. cit., p. 167, states the matter thus: "Ordinary - motives are interests in the attainment of objects, without - which it seems to the man that he cannot satisfy himself, - and in the attainment of which, _because he has desired - them_, he will find a certain pleasure, but only because he - has previously desired them, not because pleasures are the - objects desired." Bradley says on this same point (Ethical - Studies, p. 230): "The difference is between my finding - my pleasure in an end, and my finding means for the end - of my pleasure, and the difference is enormous." Consult - the entire passage, pp. 226-235. See also Caird, Critical - Philosophy of Kant, Vol. II, p. 229. - -It is the object, then, which controls, and the pleasure is on account -of the attaining of the desired object. But even this statement makes -more division in desire than actually exists; for - -3. The real object of desire is activity itself. The will takes its -rise, as we have seen, in impulse; in the reaching for something to -satisfy some felt lack. Now, in reality, desire adds nothing to -impulse excepting _consciousness_ of the impulse. Volitional action -does not differ from impulsive or instinctive, _except in bringing to -consciousness the nature of the want and of the activity necessary to -satisfy it_. But this makes just the difference between 'natural' or -animal activity, and 'moral' or human activity. To be conscious of the -impulse is to elevate it from a blind impelling force to an intended or -proposed end; and thus, by bringing it _before_ consciousness, both to -extend its range and to idealize it, spiritualize it. To be conscious -of an impulse for food means to give up the unreasoned and momentary -seizing of it; to consider the relation of things to this want, what -will satisfy it best, most easily, etc. The _object_ of desire is not -something outside the action; it is an element in the enlarged action. -And as we become more and more conscious of impulse for food, we -analyze our action into more and more 'objects' of desire, but these -objects never become anything apart from the action itself. They are -simply its analyzed and defined content. Man wants activity still, but -he knows better what activity means and includes. - -Thus, when we learn what the activity means, it changes its character. -To the animal the activity wanted is simply that of eating the food, -of realizing the momentary impulse. To man the activity becomes -enlarged to include the satisfaction of a whole life, and not of one -life singly, but of the family, etc., connected with the single life. -The material well-being of the family becomes one of the objects of -desire into which the original impulse has grown. But we misinterpret, -when we conceive of this well-being as an external object lying outside -the action. It means simply one aspect of the fuller action. By like -growing consciousness of the meaning of the impulse, production and -exchange of commodities are organized. The impulse for food is extended -to include a whole range of commercial activities. - -It is evident that this growing consciousness of the nature of an -impulse, whereby we resolve it into manifold and comprehensive -activities, also takes the impulse out of its isolation and brings it -into connection with other impulses. We come to have not a series of -disconnected impulses, but one all-inclusive activity in which various -subordinate activities (or conscious impulses) are included. Thus, in -the previous example, the impulse for food is united with the family -impulse, and with the impulse for communication and intercourse with -society generally. It is this growing unity with the whole range -of man's action that is the 'spiritualizing' of the impulse--the -natural and brutal impulse being just that which insists upon itself -irrespective of all other wants. The spiritualizing of the impulse -is organizing it so that it becomes one factor in action. Thus we -literally come to 'eat to live', meaning by life not mere physical -existence, but the whole possible sphere of active human relations. - -4. Relation of activity to pleasure. We have seen that the 'object' of -desire in itself is a mere abstraction; that the real object is full -activity itself. We are always after larger scope of movement, fuller -income in order to get larger outgo. The 'thing' is always for the -sake of doing; is a part of the doing. The idea that anything less or -other than life (movement, action, and doing), can satisfy man is as -ridiculous when compared with the actual course of things in history, -as it is false psychologically. Freedom is what we want, and freedom -means full unimpeded play of interests, that is, of conscious impulses -(see Sec. 34 and 51). If the object is a mere abstraction apart from -activity, much more is pleasure. Mere pleasure as an object is simply -the extreme of passivity, of mere having, as against action or doing. -It is _possible_ to make pleasure to some degree the object of desire; -this is just what the voluptuary does. But it is a commonplace that -the voluptuary always defeats himself. He never gets satisfaction who -identities satisfaction with having pleasures. The reason is evident -enough. Activity is what we want, and since pleasure comes from getting -what we want, pleasure comes only with activity. To give up the -activity, and attempt to get the pleasure is a contradiction in effect. -Hence also the 'hedonistic paradox'--that in order to get pleasure we -must aim at something else. - - There is an interesting recognition of this in Mill - himself, (see his Autobiography, p. 142). And in his - Utilitarianism, in discussing the feasibility of getting - happiness, he shows (pp. 318-319) that the sources of - happiness are an intelligent interest in surrounding - things--objects of nature, achievements of art, incidents - of history--and especially an unselfish devotion to others. - Which is to say that man does not find satisfaction - in pleasure as such at all, but only in objective - affairs--that is, in complete interpretation, in activity - with a wide and full content. Further consideration of the - end of desire and its relation to pleasure may be found in - Green, Op. cit., pp. 123-132; pp. 163-167. Bradley, Mind, - Vol. XIII, p. 1, and Dewey, Psychology, pp. 360-365. - - -XIV. Criticism--_Continued_. - -Character and Pleasure. - -It now being admitted that the end of desire is activity itself in -which the 'object' and 'pleasure' are simply factors, what is the -moving spring to action? What is it that arouses the mind to the larger -activity? Most of the hedonists have confounded the two senses of -motive already spoken of, and have held that _because_ pleasure is the -end of desire, therefore it is the moving spring of conduct (or more -often that because it is the moving spring of conduct it _therefore_ is -the end of desire). - -Mr. Stephen (Science of Ethics, pp. 46-58), although classing himself -as a hedonist, has brought out this confusion very clearly. Ordinary -hedonism confounds, as he shows, the judgment of what is pleasant--the -supposed end--with the pleasant judgment--the moving spring. (See also -Bradley, Op. cit., pp. 232-236). It may be admitted that it is feeling -which moves to action, but it is the _present_ feeling which moves. -If the feeling aimed at moves, it is only as through anticipation it -becomes the present feeling. Now is this present feeling which moves -(1) mere pleasure and (2) mere feeling at all? This introduces us to -the question of the relation of pleasure (and of feeling in general) to -character. - -1. If the existing state of consciousness--that which moves--were pure -pleasure, why should there be any movement, any act at all? The feeling -which moves must be in so far complex: over against the pleasure felt -in the anticipation of an end as satisfying, there must be pain felt in -the contrasting unsatisfactory present condition. There must be tension -between the anticipated or ideal action, and the actual or present -(relative) non-action. And it is this tension, in which pain is just -as normal an element as pleasure, which moves. Desire is just this -tension of an action which satisfies, and yet is only ideal, against an -actual possession which, in contrast with the ideal action, is felt as -incomplete action, or lack, and hence as unsatisfactory. - -2. The question now comes as to the nature of this tension. We may -call it 'feeling,' if we will, and say that feeling is the sole motive -power to action. But there is no such thing as feeling at large, and -the important thing, morally, is what _kind_ of feeling moves. To take -a mere abstraction like 'feeling' for the source of action is, at -root, the fallacy of hedonism. To raise the question, What is it that -makes the feeling what it is, is to recognize that the feeling, taken -concretely, is _character_ in a certain attitude. - - Stephen, who has insisted with great force that feeling - is the sole 'motive' to action, has yet shown with equal - cogency the moral uselessness of such a doctrine, when - feeling is left undefined (Op. cit., p. 44). "The love of - happiness must express the sole possible motive of Judas - Iscariot and his master; it must explain the conduct of - Stylites on his column, of Tiberius at Capreę, of A Kempis - in his cell, and of Nelson in the cockpit of the Victory. - It must be equally good for saints, martyrs, heroes, - cowards, debauchees, ascetics, mystics, cynics, misers, - prodigals, men, women, and babes in arms." Surely, this is - only to say, in effect, that 'love of happiness' is a pure - bit of scholasticism, an undefined entity. - -In a hedonistic argument (by Stanton Coit, Mind, Vol. XI, p. 349), -the fallacy is seen in the following discussion. The story is told of -Abraham Lincoln that he once passed an animal in distress by the side -of the road, and that, after going by, he finally went back and got -him out of the ditch. On being praised for his act, he replied that he -did it on his own account, since he kept getting more uncomfortable as -he thought of the animal in distress. From this, it cannot be inferred -that love of pleasure is at the basis of moral acts. The mere lumping -off of feeling as the spring of conduct overlooks the only important -thing morally--the fact that Lincoln felt pain at the thought of the -animal unrelieved, and pleasure at the idea of its relief, just because -he was a man of compassionate _character_. It was not the feeling, but -the character revealed in, and creative of, the feeling that was the -real source of the act. - -To connect this with our previous account of desire (p. 26): the -important thing morally is that the nature of the tension between fact -and idea--the actual state and the ideal activity--is an expression -of character. What kind of activity does it take to satisfy a man? -Does riding in a comfortable carriage, and following the course of his -own reflections exhaust his need of action? or does his full activity -require that note be taken of a suffering animal? It is the kind -of character one is (that is, the kind of activity which satisfies -and expresses one) which decides what pleasure shall be taken in an -anticipated end, what feeling of lack or hindrance (what pain) there -shall be in the given state, and hence what the resulting tension, or -desire, shall be. It is, therefore, character which moves to conduct. - -Mere wishing, the mere floating fancy of this or that thing as -desirable, is not desire. To _want_ is an active projection of -character; really and deeply to want is no surface and passing -feeling; it is the stirring of character to its depths. There may be -repressed activity; that is not, of itself, desire. There may be an -image of larger activity; that is not, of itself, desire. But given -the _consciousness_ of a repressed activity in view of the perception -of a possible larger action, and a man strives within himself to break -his bonds and reach the new satisfaction. This striving within one's -self, before the activity becomes overt, is the emotional antecedent -of action. But this inward striving or tension, which constitutes -desire, is so far from being _mere_ emotion that it is character -itself--character as it turns an inward or ideal advance into an -outward, or real progress, into action. - - We may fall back on Aristotle's statement (page 38, of - Peters' translation of his ethics): "The pleasure or pain - that accompanies an act must be regarded as a _test_ of - _character_. He who abstains from the pleasures of the body - and rejoices in his abstinence is temperate, while he who - is vexed at having to abstain is still profligate. As Plato - tells us, man needs to be so trained from youth up as to - take pleasure and pain _in the right objects_." - - -XV. - -Summary. - -The truth in hedonism is its conviction that the good, the end of man, -is not to be found in any outward object, but only in what comes home -to man in his own conscious experience. The error is in reducing this -experience to mere having, to bare feelings or affections, eliminating -the element of doing. It is this doing which satisfies man, and it is -this which involves as its content (as knowledge of impulse, instead -of blind impulse) objective and permanent ends. When Mill speaks of -the end of desire as a "satisfied life," (p. 317 of Utilitarianism) he -carries our assent; but to reduce this satisfied life to feelings of -pleasure, and absence of pains, is to destroy the life and hence the -satisfaction. As Mill recognizes, a life bounded by the agent's own -feelings would be, as of course, a life "centred in his own miserable -individuality." (Mill, p. 319). Such words have meaning only because -they suggest the contrast with activity in which are comprehended, -as 'ends' or 'objects' (that is, as part of its defined content) -things--art, science and industry--and persons (see Secs. 34 and 35). - - Here too we must 'back to Aristotle.' According to him the - end of conduct is _eudaimonia_, success, welfare, satisfied - life. But _eudaimonia_ is found not in pleasure, but in - the fulfillment of human powers and functions, in which - fulfillment, since it is fulfillment, pleasure is had. - (Ethics, Bk. I, ch. 4-8). - -We now take up the question whether pleasure is a standard of right -action, having finished the discussion concerning it as an end of -desire. - - -XVI. - -Pleasure as the Standard of Conduct. - -The line of criticism on this point may be stated as follows: Pleasure -fails as a standard for the very reason that it fails as a motive. -Pleasure, _as conceived by the hedonist_, is passive, merely agreeable -sensations, without any objective and qualitative (active) character. -This being so, there is no permanent, fixed basis to which we may refer -_acts_ and by which we may judge them. A standard implies a single -comprehensive end which unifies all acts and through connection with -which each gets its moral value fixed. Only action can be a standard -for acts. To reduce all acts to means to getting a mere state of -feeling is the inevitable consequence of hedonism. So reducing them is -to deprive them of any standard of value. - -An end to serve as standard must be (1) a comprehensive end for all -the acts of an individual, and (2) an end comprehending the activities -of various individuals--a common good. - -1. The moral end must be that for the sake of which all conduct -occurs--the _organizing principle_ of conduct--a totality, a system. -If pleasure is the end it is because each detail of conduct gets its -placing, its moral value through relation to pleasure, through the -contribution it makes to pleasure. - -2. The moral end must also include the ends of the various agents who -make up society. It must be capable of constituting a social system -out of the acts of various agents, as well as an individual system out -of the various acts of one agent; or, more simply, the moral end must -be not only the good for all the particular acts of an individual, but -must be a _common good_--a good which in satisfying one, satisfies -others. - -All ethical theories would claim that the end proposed by them served -these two purposes. We shall endeavor to show that the hedonistic -theory, the doctrine that the pleasure is the good, is not capable of -serving either of them. - - -XVII. - -Pleasure Not a Standard. - -1. _It does not unify character._ In the first place, the hedonistic -theory makes an unreal and impossible separation between conduct and -character. The psychology of hedonism comes into conflict with its -ethics. According to the former the motive of all action is to secure -pleasure or avoid pain. So far as the motive is concerned, on this -theory there can be no immoral action at all. That the agent should -not be moved by pleasure, and by what, at the time of acting, is the -greatest pleasure possible, would be a psychological impossibility. -Every motive would be good, or rather there would be no distinction of -good or bad pertaining to the motive. The character of the agent, as -measured by his motives, could never, under such circumstances, have -any moral quality. - -To the consequences of action, or the conduct proper, however, the -terms good and bad might be applied. Although the agent is moved by -pleasurable feelings, the result of his action may be painful and thus -bad. In a word, on the hedonistic theory, it is only the external -consequences of conduct, or conduct divorced from character, to which -moral adjectives have any application. Such a separation not only -contradicts our experience (see VIII), but inverts the true order of -moral judgment. Consequences do not enter into the moral estimate at -all, except so far as, being foreseen, they are the act in idea. That -is, it is only as the consequences are taken up into the motive, and -thus related to character, that they are subject to moral judgment. -Indeed, except so far as action expresses character, it is not conduct, -but mere physical sequence, as irrelevant to morality as the change in -blood distribution, which also is the 'result' of an action. Hedonism -has to rule out at the start the only thing that gives totality to -action--the character of the agent, or conduct as the outcome of -motives. Furthermore, the ordinary judgment of men, instead of saying -that the sole moral motive is to get pleasure, would say that to -reduce everything to means for getting pleasure is the very essence of -immorality. - - On the point above, compare Bentham, Op. cit., I, p. 48. - "A motive is substantially nothing more than pleasure or - pain operating in a certain manner. Now pleasure is in - itself a good: nay, even, setting aside immunity from pain, - the only good; pain is in itself an evil, and, indeed, - without exception, the only evil; or else the words good - and evil have no meaning. And this is alike true of every - sort of pain and of every sort of pleasure. It follows, - therefore, immediately and incontestably, that there is - no such thing as any sort of motive that is in itself a - bad one. If motives are good or bad, it is only on account - of their effects; good on account of their tendency to - produce pleasure or avert pain; bad on account of their - tendency to produce pain or avert pleasure. Now the case - is, that from one and the same motive, and from every kind - of motive, may proceed actions that are good, others that - are bad and others that are indifferent." Further, on p. - 60, Bentham asks: "Is there nothing, then, about a man - that can properly be termed good or bad, when on such or - such an occasion he suffers himself to be governed by such - or such a motive? Yes, certainly, his _disposition_. Now - disposition is a kind of fictitious entity, feigned for the - convenience of discourse, in order to express what there - is supposed to be _permanent_ in a man's frame of mind. It - is with disposition as with everything else; it will be - good or bad according to its effects." The first quotation, - it will be noticed, simply states that the motive is in - itself always good, while conduct (_i. e._, consequences) - may be good, bad or indifferent. The second quotation - seems, however, to pass moral judgment upon character - under the name of disposition. But disposition is judged - according to the tendency of a person's actions. A good - or bad disposition, here, can mean nothing intrinsic to - the person, but only that the person has been observed to - act in ways that usually produce pain or pleasure, as the - case may be. The term is a 'fiction', and is a backhanded - way of expressing a somewhat habitual _result_ of a - given person's conduct his motive remaining good (or for - pleasure) all the time. The agent would never pronounce any - such judgment upon his own disposition, unless as a sort of - surprise that, his motive being 'good,' his actions turn - out so 'bad' all the time. At most, the judgment regarding - disposition is a sort of label put upon a man by others, a - label of "Look out for him, he is dangerous," or, "Behold, - a helpful man." - -The moral standard of hedonism does not, then, bear any relation to the -character of the agent, does not enable us to judge it, either as a -whole or in any specific manifestation. - - -XVIII. - -It Does Not Give a Criterion for Concrete Acts. - -Pleasure, as the end, fails also to throw light on the moral value of -any specific acts. Its failure in this respect is, indeed, only the -other side of that just spoken of. There is no organizing principle, -no 'universal' on the basis of which various acts fall into a system -or order. The moral life is left a series of shreds and patches, where -each act is torn off, as to its moral value, from every other. Each -act is right or wrong, according as _it_ gives pleasure or pain, and -independently of any whole of life. There is, indeed, no whole of -moral life at all, but only a series of isolated, disconnected acts. -Possession, passivity, _mere_ feeling, by its very nature cannot -unite--each feeling is itself and that is the end of it. It is action -which reduces multiplicity to unity. We cannot say, in the hedonistic -theory, that pleasure is the end, but _pleasures_. - -Each act stands by itself--the only question is: What pleasure will -_it_ give? The settling of this question is the "hedonistic calculus." -We must discover the intensity, duration, certainty, degree of nearness -of the pleasure likely to arise from the given act, and also its -purity, or likelihood of being accompanied by secondary pains and -pleasures. Then we are to strike the balance between the respective -sums on the pleasure and pain sides, and, according as this balance is -one of pleasure or pain, the act is good or evil. - - Bentham, Op. cit., p. 16, was the first to go into detail - as to this method. He has also given certain memoriter - verses stating "the points on which the whole fabric of - morals and legislation may be seen to rest. - - Intense, long, certain, speedy, fruitful, pure, - Such marks in pleasures and in pains endure, - Such pleasures seek, if private be thy end. - If it be public, wide let them extend. - Such pains avoid whichever be thy view, - If pains must come, let them extend to few." - - This, however, in its reference to others, states the - utilitarian as well as the hedonistic view. - -Now, it must be remembered that, if pleasure is the end, there is no -intrinsic connection between the motive of the act, and its result. -It is not claimed that there is anything belonging intrinsically to -the motive of the act which makes it result in pleasure or pain. To -make such a claim would be to declare the moral quality of the act the -criterion of the pleasure, instead of pleasure the criterion of the -act. The pleasures are external to the act; they are irrelevant and -accidental to its quality. There is no 'universal,' no intrinsic bond -of connection between the act and its consequences. The consequence is -a mere particular state of feeling, which, in this instance, the act -has happened to bring about. - -More concretely, this act of truth-telling has in this instance, -brought about pleasure. Shall we call it right? Right in _this_ -instance, of course; but is it right generally? Is truth-telling, as -such, right, or is it merely that this instance of it happens to -be right? Evidently, on the hedonistic basis, we cannot get beyond -the latter judgment. _Prior_ to any act, there will be plenty of -difficulties in telling whether it, as _particular_, is right or wrong. -The consequences depend not merely on the result intended, but upon a -multitude of circumstances outside of the foresight and control of the -agent. And there can be only a precarious calculation of possibilities -and probabilities--a method which would always favor laxity of conduct -in all but the most conscientious of men, and which would throw the -conscientious into uncertainty and perplexity in the degree of their -conscientiousness. - - "If once the pleas of instinct are to be abolished and - replaced by a hedonistic arithmetic, the whole realm of - animated nature has to be reckoned with in weaving the - tissue of moral relations, and the problem becomes infinite - and insoluble".--Martineau, Op. cit., Vol. II, p. 334. - -But waive this; let the particular case be settled. There is still no -law, no principle, indeed no presumption as to future conduct. The act -is not right _because_ it is _truth-telling_, but because, in this -instance, circumstances were such as to throw a balance of pleasure -in its favor. This establishes no certainty, no probability as to its -next outcome. The result _then_ will depend wholly upon circumstances -existing _then_--circumstances which have no intrinsic relation to the -act and which must change from time to time. - -The hedonist would escape this abolition of all principle, or even -rule, by falling back upon a number of cases--'past experience' it is -called. We have found in a number of cases that a certain procedure has -resulted in pleasure, and this result is sufficient to guide us in a -vast number of cases which come up. - - Says Mill (Op. cit., pp. 332-4): "During the whole past - duration of the species, mankind have been learning by - experience the tendencies of actions, on which experience - all the prudence as well as all the morality of life are - dependent.... Mankind must by this time have acquired - positive belief as to the effects of some actions on their - happiness; and the beliefs which have thus come down are - the rules of morality for the multitude, and for the - philosopher, until he has succeeded in finding better.... - Nobody argues that the art of navigation is not founded on - astronomy, because sailors cannot wait to calculate the - 'Nautical Almanac'. Being rational creatures, they go to - sea with it ready calculated; and all rational creatures go - out upon the sea of life with their minds made up on the - common questions of right and wrong, as well as on many of - the far more difficult questions of wise and foolish." - -That we do learn from experience the moral nature of actions is -undoubted. The only question is: _if_ hedonism were true, _could_ we -so learn? Suppose that I were convinced that the results of murder in -the past had been generally, or even without exception (though this -could not be proved), painful; as long as the act and the result in the -way of feeling (pain or pleasure) are conceived as having no intrinsic -connection, this would not prove that in the present instance murder -will give a surplus of pain. I am not thinking of committing murder in -general, but of murder under certain specific present circumstances. -These circumstances may, and, to some extent, _must_ vary from all -previous instances of murder. How then can I reason from them to -it? Or, rather, let me use the previous cases as much as I may, the -moral quality of the act I am now to perform must still be judged not -from them, but from the circumstances of the present case. To judge -otherwise, is, on hedonistic principles, to be careless, perhaps -criminally careless as to one's conduct. The more convinced a man is -of the truth of hedonism and the more conscientious he is, the more he -is bound _not_ to be guided by previous circumstances, but to form his -judgment anew concerning the new case. This result flows out of the -very nature of the hedonistic ideal. Pleasure is not an activity, but -simply a particular feeling, enduring only while it is felt. Moreover, -there is in it no principle which connects it intrinsically with any -_kind_ of action. To suppose then that, because ninety-nine cases of -murder have resulted in pain, the hundredth will, is on a par with -reasoning that because ninety-nine days have been frosty, the hundredth -will be. Each case, taken as particular, must be decided wholly by -itself. There is no continuous moral life, and no system of conduct. -There is only a succession of unlike acts. - - Mill, in his examination of Whewell, (Diss. and Diss., - Vol. III, pp. 158-59), tries to establish a general - principle, if not a universal law, by arguing that, even - in exceptional cases, the agent is bound to respect the - rule, because to act otherwise would weaken the rule, and - thus lead to its being disregarded in other cases, in which - its observance results in pleasure. There are, he says, - persons so wicked that their removal from the earth would - undoubtedly increase the sum total of happiness. But if - persons were to violate the general rule in these cases, - it would tend to destroy the rule. "If it were thought - allowable for any one to put to death at pleasure any human - being whom he believes that the world would be well rid - of,--nobody's life would be safe." That is to say, if every - one were really to act upon and carry out the hedonistic - principle, no rule of life would exist. This does very well - as a _reductio ad absurdum_ of hedonism, or as an argument - against adopting hedonism, but it is difficult to see how - Mill thought that it established a 'rule' on a hedonistic - basis. Mill's argument comes to saying that if hedonism - were uniformly acted upon, it would defeat itself--that - is, pleasure would not result. Therefore, in order to get - pleasure, we must not act upon the principle of hedonism - at all, but follow a general rule. Otherwise put: hedonism - gives no general rule, but we must have a general rule to - make hedonism works and therefore there is a general rule! - This begging of the question comes out even more plainly as - Mill goes on: "If one person may break through the rule - on his own judgment, the same liberty cannot be refused to - others; and, since no one could rely on the rule's being - observed, the rule would cease to exist." All of this is - obviously true, but it amounts to saying: "We _must_ have - a rule, and this we would not have if we carried out the - hedonistic principle in each case; therefore, we must not - carry it out." A principle, that carried out destroys all - rules which pretend to rest upon it, lays itself open to - suspicion. Mill assumes the entire question in assuming - that there is a rule. Grant this, and the necessity of - not 'making exceptions,' that is, of not applying the - hedonistic standard to each case, on its own merits, - follows. But the argument which Mill needs to meet is that - hedonism _requires_ us to apply the standard to each case - in itself, and that, therefore, there _is_ no rule. Mill - simply says--_assume_ the rule, and it follows, etc. - - See Bradley, Op. cit., pp. 96-101; Green, Bk. IV, Ch. 3; - Martineau, Vol. II, pp. 329-334. - - -XIX. - -The Sum and the Quality of Pleasure as the Standard. - -We have been dealing with hedonism in its strict form--that which makes -_a_ pleasure, considered as to its intensity, certainty, etc., the -end of an act. Hedonism in this form fails to unify life, and fails, -therefore, to supply any standard. But the end of conduct is often -stated to be the greatest possible sum of pleasures thus introducing a -certain element of generality. Mill goes further and brings in the idea -of quality of pleasure. - - Regarding the sum of pleasures the following from Sidgwick - (Op. cit., p. 382; see also p. 114) gives the hedonistic - statement. "The assumption is involved that all pleasures - are capable of being compared qualitatively with one - another and with all pains; that every feeling has a - certain intensive quality, positive or negative (or perhaps - zero) in respect to its desirableness and that the quantity - may be known, so that each may be weighed in ethical scales - against any other. This assumption is involved in the very - motion of maximum happiness," as the attempt to make "as - great as possible a sum of elements not quantitatively - commensurable would be a mathematical absurdity." - -I. Sum of pleasures as the moral end. This, first, taken as criterion, -comes into conflict with the hedonistic psychology of pleasure as the -motive of acts; and, secondly, it requires some objective standard by -means of which pleasure is to be summed, and is, in so far, a surrender -of the whole hedonistic position. - -1. If the object of desire is pleasure or a state of feeling which -exists only as it is felt, it is impossible that we should desire a -greatest sum of pleasures. We can desire a pleasure and that only. It -is not even possible that we should ever desire a continuous series of -pleasures. We can desire one pleasure and when that is gone, another, -but we can not unify our desires enough to aim at even a sum of -pleasures. - - This is well put by Green (Op. cit, p. 236). "For the - feeling of a pleased person, or in relation to his sense - of enjoyment, pleasure cannot form a sum. However numerous - the sources of a state of pleasant feeling, it is one - and is over before another can be enjoyed. It and its - successors can be added together in thought, but not in - enjoyment or in imagination of an enjoyment. If the desire - is only for pleasure, _i. e._, for an enjoyment or feeling - of pleasure, we are simply victims of words when we talk of - desire for a sum of pleasures, much more when we take the - greatest imaginable sum to be the most desirable." See the - whole passage, pp. 235-246. - -2. But the phrase "sum of pleasures" undoubtedly has a meaning--though -the fact that it has a meaning shows the untruth of the hedonistic -psychology. Surrendering this psychology, what shall we say of the -maximum possibility of pleasure as the criterion of the morality -of acts? It must be conceded that this conception does afford some -basis--although a rather slippery one--for the unification of conduct. -Each act is considered now not in its isolation merely, but in its -connection with other acts, according as its relation to them may -increase or decrease the possible sum of future happiness. But this -very fact that some universal, or element of relation, albeit a -quantitative one, has been introduced, arouses this inquiry: Whence -do we derive it? How do we get the thought of a sum of pleasure, -and of a maximum sum? _Only by taking into account the objective -conditions upon which pleasures depend, and by judging the pleasures -from the standpoint of these objective conditions._ When we imagine -we are thinking of a sum of pleasures, we are really thinking of -that totality of conditions which will come nearest affording us -self-satisfaction--we are thinking of a comprehensive and continuous -activity whose various parts are adjusted to one another. Because it is -complete activity, it is necessarily conceived as giving the greatest -possible pleasure, but apart from reference to complete activity and -apart from the objects in which this is realized, the phrase 'greatest -sum of happiness' is a mere phrase. Pleasures must be measured by a -standard, by a yard stick, before they can be summed in thought, and -the yard stick we use is the activity in which the pleasure comes. We -do not measure conduct by pleasure, but we compare and sum up pleasures -on the basis of the objects which occasion them. To add feelings, mere -transitory consequences, without first reducing those feelings to a -common denominator by their relation to one objective standard, is an -impossibility. Pleasure is a sort of sign or symbol of the object which -satisfies, and we may carry on our judgment, if we will, in terms of -the sign, without reference to the standard, but to argue as if the -sign were the thing, as if the sum of pleasure were the activity, is -suicidal. - - Thus Green says (Op. cit., p. 244): "In truth a man's - reference to his own true happiness is a reference to the - objects which chiefly interest him, and has its controlling - power on that account. More strictly, it is a reference - to an ideal state of well-being, a state in which he - shall be satisfied; _but the objects of the man's chief - interests supply the filling of that ideal state_." See the - argument as put by Alexander (Moral Order and Progress, - pp. 199-200). Alexander has also brought out (Ibid., pp. - 207-210) that even if we are going to use a quantitative - standard, the idea of a sum is not a very happy one. It - is not so much a sum of pleasures we want, as a certain - proportionate distribution and combination of pleasures. - "To regard the greatest sum of pleasures as the test of - conduct, supposing that we could express it in units of - pleasure, would be like declaring that when you had an - atomic weight of 98 you had sulphuric acid. The numerical - test would be useless unless we knew what elements were - to be combined, and in what proportion. Similarly till we - know what kinds of activities (and therefore what kinds - of pleasures) go with one another to form the end, the - greatest sum of pleasures will give us only the equivalent - of the end, but will not tell us what the composition of - the end is, still less how to get at it; or, to put the - matter more simply, when we know what the characters of - persons are, and how they are combined in morality, we then - estimate the corresponding sum of pleasures." (p. 209.) - -II. A certain quality of pleasure the end. Some moralists, notably John -Stuart Mill, introduce considerations regarding the quality of pleasure -into the conception of the end. "It is quite compatible," says Mill, -"with the principle of utility to recognize the fact that some kinds -of pleasure are more desirable and more valuable than others." (p. -310.) Is it compatible? Is kind of pleasure the same thing as pleasure? -does not strict hedonism demand that all kinds of pleasure equally -present as to intensity in consciousness shall be of the same value? -To say otherwise is to give up pleasure as such as the standard and to -hold that we have means for discriminating the respective values of -pleasures which simply, _as feelings_, are the same. It is to hold, -that is to say, that there is some standard of value external to the -pleasures as such, by means of which their moral quality may be judged. -In this case, this independent standard is the real moral criterion -which we are employing. Hedonism is surrendered. - - Kant's position on this point seems impregnable. "It is - surprising," he says, "that men otherwise astute can - think it possible to distinguish between higher and lower - desires, according as the ideas which are connected with - the feeling of pleasure have their origin in the senses - or in the understanding; for when we inquire what are the - determining grounds of desire, and place them in some - expected pleasantness, it is of no consequence whence - the _idea_ of this pleasing object is derived, but only - how much it _pleases_.... The only thing that concerns - one, in order to decide choice, is how great, how long - continued, how easily obtained and how often repeated, - this agreeableness is. For as to the man who wants money - to spend, it is all the same whether the gold was dug out - of the mountain or washed out of the sand, provided it is - every-where accepted at the same value; so the man who - cares only for the enjoyment of life does not ask whether - the ideas are of the understanding or the senses, but only - _how much_ and _how great pleasure_ they will give for the - longest time." - - See also Bradley, Op. cit., pp. 105-110. - -When we ask how the differences in quality are established and how -we translate this qualitative difference into moral difference, the -surrender of pleasure as the standard becomes even more evident. -We must know not only the fact of different qualities, but how to -decide which is 'higher' than any other. We must bring the qualities -before a tribunal of judgment which applies to them some standard of -measurement. In themselves qualities may be different, but they are not -higher and lower. What is the tribunal and what is the law of judgment? -According to Mill the tribunal is the preference of those who are -acquainted with both kinds of pleasure. - - "Of two pleasures, if there be one to which all, or almost - all who have experience of both, give a decided preference, - irrespective of any feeling of moral obligation to prefer - it, that is the more desirable pleasure." It is an - unquestionable fact that such differences exist. "Few human - creatures would consent to be changed into any of the lower - animals for a promise of the fullest allowance of a beast's - pleasures. No intelligent person would consent to be a - fool; no instructed person would be an ignoramus; no person - of feeling and conscience would be selfish and base, - even though they should be persuaded that the fool, the - dunce or the rascal is better satisfied with his lot than - they are with theirs.... It is better to be a human being - dissatisfied, than a pig satisfied; better to be a Socrates - dissatisfied, than a fool satisfied. And if the fool or the - pig are of a different opinion, it is because they only - know their own side of the question. The other party to the - comparison knows both sides."--Mill, Op. cit., pp. 311-313. - And in an omitted portion Mill says the reason that one - of the higher faculty would prefer a suffering which goes - along with that higher capacity, to more pleasure on a - lower plane, is something of which "the most appropriate - appellation is a sense of dignity, which all human beings - possess in one form or another." - -A question immediately arises regarding this standard of preferability. -Is it the mere historical fact that some man, who has experienced both, -prefers A to B that makes A more desirable? Surely I might say that if -that person prefers A, A is more desirable to him, but that I for my -part prefer B, and that I do not intend to give up my preference. And -why should I, even though thousands of other men happened to prefer A? -B is the greater pleasure, none the less, to me, and as a hedonist I -must cling to the only standard that I have. The hedonists, in a word, -have appealed to feeling, and to feeling they must go for judgment. And -feeling exists only as it is felt and only to him who feels it. - -On the other hand, perhaps it is not the bare act that some men prefer -one pleasure to another that makes it more desirable, but something -in the character of the men who prefer. And this is what Mill implies. -It is a "sense of dignity" belonging to man which makes his judgment -of pleasure better than that of animals; it is the human being against -the pig, Socrates against the fool, the good man against the rascal. -This is the complete surrender of hedonism, and the all but explicit -assertion that human character, goodness, wisdom, are the criteria of -pleasure, instead of pleasure the criterion of character and goodness. -Mill's "sense of dignity," which is to be considered in all estimates -of pleasures, is just the sense of a moral (or active) capacity and -destiny belonging to man. To refer pleasures to _this_ is to make it -the standard, and with this standard the anti-hedonist may well be -content, while asking, however, for its further analysis. - -To sum up our long discussion of pleasure as a criterion of conduct -in respect of its unity, we may say: Pleasure, _as it actually exists -in man_, may be taken as _a_ criterion, although not the really -primary one, of action. But this is not hedonism; for pleasure as it -_exists_ is something more than pleasurable feeling; it is qualified -through and through by the kind of action which it accompanies, by -the kind of objects which the activity comprehends. And thus it is -always a secondary criterion. The moment we begin to analyze we -must ask what _kind of activity_, what kind of object it is which -the pleasure accompanies and of which it is a symbol. We may, if we -will, calculate a man's wealth in terms of dollars and cents; but this -is only because we can translate the money, the symbol, into goods, -the reality. To desire pleasure instead of an activity of self, is -to substitute symbol for fact, and a symbol cut off from fact ceases -to be a symbol. Pleasure, as the hedonist treats it, mere agreeable -feeling without active and thus objective relationships, is wholly an -abstraction. Since an abstraction, to make it the end of desire results -in self-contradiction; while to make it the standard of conduct is to -deprive life of all unity, all system, in a word--of all standard. - - -XX. - -The Failure of Pleasure as a Standard to Unify Conduct Socially. - -Thus far our examination of the hedonistic criterion has been devoted -to showing that it will not make a system out of individual conduct. -We have now to recognize the fact that pleasure is not a common good, -and therefore fails to give a social unity to conduct--that is, it does -not offer an end for which men may coöperate, or a good which reached -by one must be shared by another. No argument is needed to show, -theoretically, that any proposed moral criterion must, in order to be -valid, harmonize the interests and activities of different men, or to -show, practically, that the whole tendency of the modern democratic -and philanthropic movement has been to discover and realize a good -in which men shall share on the basis of an equal principle. It is -contended that hedonism fails to satisfy these needs. According to it, -the end for each man is his own pleasure. Pleasure is nothing objective -in which men may equally participate. It is purely individual in the -most exclusive sense of that term. It is a state of feeling and can -be enjoyed only while felt, and only by the one who feels it. To set -it up for the ideal of conduct is to turn life into an exclusive and -excluding struggle for possession of the means of personal enjoyment; -it is to erect into a principle the idea of the war of all against -all. No end more thoroughly disintegrating than individual agreeable -sensation could well be imagined. - - Says Kant, (page 116 of Abbott's Trans., entitled Kant's - Theory of Ethics) on the basis of the desire of happiness - "there results a harmony like that which a certain - satirical poem depicts as existing between a married couple - bent on going to ruin: O, marvellous harmony, what he - wishes, she wishes also; or like what is said of the pledge - of Francis I to the emperor Charles V, what my brother - Charles wishes that I wish also (_viz._, Milan)." - -Almost all modern moralists who take pleasure as the end conceive it -to be not individual pleasure, but the happiness of all men or even -of all sentient creatures. Thus we are brought to the consideration of -Utilitarianism. - - Says Mill (Op. cit., p. 323), "The happiness which forms - the Utilitarian standard of what is right in conduct is - not the agent's own happiness, but that of all concerned; - as between his own happiness and that of others, - Utilitarianism requires him to be as strictly impartial - as a disinterested and benevolent spectator." And (page - 315) the Utilitarian standard is "not the agent's own - greatest happiness, but the greatest amount of happiness - altogether." See also Sidgwick (Op. cit., p. 379), "By - Utilitarianism is here meant the ethical theory, first - distinctly formulated by Bentham, that the conduct which, - under any given circumstances is externally or objectively - right is that which will produce the greatest amount of - happiness _on the whole_; that is, taking into account - all whose happiness is affected by the conduct. It would - tend to clearness if we might call this principle, and the - method based upon it, by some such name as Universalistic - hedonism." As popularly put, the utilitarian standard is - the "greatest happiness of the greatest number." While - in its calculation "each is to count for one and only - one." (_Bentham_). And finally Bain (Emotions and Mill, - p. 303), "Utility is opposed to the selfish theory, for, - as propounded, it always implies the good of society - generally, and the subordination of individual interests to - the general good." - - -XXI. - -Criticism of Utilitarianism. - -The utilitarian theory certainly does away entirely with one of the -two main objections to hedonism--its failure to provide a general, -as distinct from a private end. The question which we have to meet, -however, is whether this extension of the end from the individual to -society is consistent with the fundamental principles of hedonism. -_How_ do we get from individual pleasure to the happiness of all? - - An intuitional utilitarian, like Sidgwick, has ready an - answer which is not open to the empirical utilitarians, - like Bentham, Mill and Bain. Methods of Ethics, Bk. III, - ch. 13-14, p. 355. "We may obtain the _self-evident - principle_ that the good of any one individual is of no - more importance, as a part of universal good, than the - good of any other. The abstract principle of the duty - of benevolence, _so far as it is cognizable by direct - intuition_" is, "that one is morally bound to regard the - good of any other individual as much as one's own"--and - page 364, "_the principles, so far as they are immediately - known by abstract intuition_, can only be stated as - precepts to seek (1) one's own good on the whole, and (2) - the good of any other no less than one's own, in so far as - it is no less an element of universal good." Sidgwick, that - is, differs in two important points from most utilitarians. - He holds that pleasure is not the sole, or even the usual - object of desire. And he holds that we have an immediate - faculty of rational intuition which informs us that the - good of others is as desirable an end of our conduct as is - our own happiness. Our former arguments against pleasure as - the _end_, bear, of course, equally against this theory, - but not the following arguments. Criticisms of this - position of Sidgwick's will be found in Green (Op. cit., - pp. 406-415); Bradley (Op. cit., pp. 114-117). - -The popular answer to the question how we get from individual to -general happiness, misses the entire point of the question. This -answer simply says that happiness is '_intrinsically_ desirable'. Let -it be so; but 'happiness' in this general way is a mere abstraction. -Happiness is always a particular condition of one particular person. -Whose happiness is desirable and _to whom_? Because my happiness is -intrinsically desirable to me, does it follow that your happiness is -intrinsically desirable to me? Indeed, in the hedonistic psychology, -is it not nonsense to say that a state of your feeling is desirable -to me? Mill's amplified version of the popular answer brings out the -ambiguity all the more plainly. He says (Utilitarianism, p. 349), "No -reason can be given why the general happiness is desirable, except that -each person, so far as he believes it to be obtainable, desires his own -happiness. This, however, being a fact, we have not only all the proof -which the case admits of, but all which it is possible to require, that -happiness is a good; that each person's happiness is a good to that -person; and the general happiness, therefore, a good to the aggregate -of all persons." But does it follow that because the happiness of A is -an end to A, the happiness of B an end to B, and the happiness of C an -end to C, that, therefore, the happiness of B and C is an end to A? -There is obviously no connection between the premises and the supposed -conclusion. And there appears to be, as Mill puts it, only an account -of the ambiguity of his last clause, "the general happiness a good to -the aggregate of all persons." The good of A and B and C may be a good -to the aggregate (A + B + C), but what universalistic hedonism requires -is that the aggregate good of A + B + C, be a good to A and to B and -to C taken separately--a very different proposition. Mill is guilty -of the fallacy known logically as the fallacy of division--arguing -from a collective whole to the distributed units. Because all men -want to be happy, it hardly follows that every man wants all to be -happy. There is, accordingly, no _direct_ road from individualistic -hedonism--private pleasure--to universalistic--general pleasure. -Moreover, if we adopt the usual psychology of hedonism and say that -pleasure is the motive of acting, it is absolutely absurd to say that -general pleasure can be a motive. How can I be moved by the happiness -which exists in some one else? I may feel a pleasure resembling his, -and be moved by it, but that is quite a different matter. - - -XXII. - -Indirect Means of Identifying Private and General Pleasure. - -Is there any _indirect_ method of going from the pleasure of one to -the pleasure of all? Upon the whole, the utilitarians do not claim -that there is any natural and immediate connection between the desire -for private and for general happiness, but suppose that there are -certain means which are instrumental in bringing about an identity. Of -these means the sympathetic emotions and the influence of law and of -education are the chief. Each of these, moreover, coöperates with the -other. - - -1. _Sympathetic and Social Emotions._ - -We are so constituted by nature that we take pleasure in the happiness -of others and feel pain in their misery. A proper regard for our own -welfare must lead us, therefore, to take an interest in the pleasure -of others. Our own feelings, moreover, are largely influenced by the -feelings of others toward us. If we act in a certain way we shall -incur the disapprobation of others, and this, independently of any -overt punishment it may lead them to inflict upon us, arouses feelings -of shame, of inferiority, of being under the displeasure of others, -feelings all of which are decidedly painful. The more enlightened our -judgment, the more we see how our pleasures are bound up in those of -others. - - "The Dictates of Utility" (Bentham, Op. cit., p. 56) - "are neither more nor less than the dictates of the - most extensive and enlightened (that is, well advised) - benevolence," and (p. 18), "The pleasures of benevolence - are the pleasures resulting from the view of any pleasures - supposed to be possessed by the beings who may be the - objects of benevolence.... These may also be called the - pleasures of good will, the pleasures of sympathy, or the - pleasures of the benevolent or social affections"; and (p. - 144), "What motives (independent of such as legislation and - religion may choose to furnish) can one man have to consult - the happiness of another?... In answer to this, it cannot - but be admitted that the only interests which a man at all - times and upon all occasions is sure to find _adequate_ - motives for consulting, are his own. Notwithstanding this, - there are no occasions in which a man has not some motives - for consulting the happiness of other men. In the first - place he has, on all occasions, the purely social motive - of sympathy and benevolence; in the next place he has, - on most occasions, the semi-social motives of love of - amity and love of reputation." And so in the Deontology, - which, however, was not published by Bentham himself, page - 203, "The more enlightened one is, the more one forms the - habit of general benevolence, because it is seen that the - interests of men combine with each other in more points - than they conflict in." - - -2. _Education and Law._ - -Education, working directly and internally upon the feelings, and -government, appealing to them from without through commands and -penalties, are constantly effecting an increasing identity of -self-interest and regard for others. These means supplement the action -of sympathy and the more instinctive emotions. They stimulate and even -induce a proper interest in the pleasures of others. In governmental -law, with its punishments, we have an express instrument for making the -pleasures of one harmonize with (or at least not conflict with) the -pleasures of others. - - Thus Bentham, after stating that an enlightened mind - perceives the identity of self-interest and that of - others (or of _egoism_ and _altruism_, as these interests - are now commonly called), goes on (Deontology, p. 201): - "The majority do not have sufficient enlightenment, nor - enough moral feeling so that their character goes beyond - the aid of laws, and so the legislator should supplement - the frailty of this natural interest, in adding to it an - artificial interest more appreciable and more continuous. - Thus the government augments and extends the connexion - which exists between prudence and benevolence." Mill says - (Op. cit., p. 323): "To do as you would be done by, and - to love your neighbor as yourself, constitute the ideal - perfection of utilitarian morality. As the means of making - the nearest approach to this ideal, utility would enjoin, - first, that laws and social arrangements should place the - happiness or the interest of every individual as nearly as - possible in harmony with the interest of the whole; and, - secondly, that education and opinion, which have so vast a - power over human character, should so use that power as to - establish in the mind of every individual an indissoluble - association between his own happiness and the good of the - whole." - - -XXIII. - -Private Pleasures and General Welfare. - -In criticism of these indirect methods of establishing the identity of -'egoism' and 'altruism,' it may be said: - -1. That the supposed relation between the private and the general -happiness is extrinsic, and hence always accidental and open to -exception. - -It is not contended that there is any order which _morally_ demands -that there be an identity of interests. It is simply argued that there -are certain physical and psychological forces which operate, _as matter -of fact_, to bring about such a result. Now we may admit, if we like, -that such forces exist and that they are capable of accomplishing all -that Bentham and Mill claim for them. But all that is established is, -at most, a certain state of facts which is interesting as a state of -facts, but which has no especial moral bearing. It is not pretended -that there is in the very order of things any necessary and intrinsic -connection between the happiness of one and of another. Such identity -as exists, therefore, must be a mere external result of the action -of certain forces. It is accidental. This being the case, how can it -constitute the universal ideal of action? Why is it not open for an -agent, under exceptional circumstances, to act for his own pleasure, -to the exclusion of that of others? We may admit that, upon the whole -(or that always, though this is wholly impossible to prove) in past -experience, personal pleasure has been best attained by a certain -regard for the pleasures of others; but the connection being wholly -empirical (that is, of past instances and not of an intrinsic law), we -may ask how it can be claimed that the same connection is _certain_ to -hold in this new case? Nor is it probable that any one would claim that -the connection between individual pleasure and general pleasure had -been so universal and invariable in past experience. - -_Intrinsic moral considerations_ (that is, those based on the very -nature of human action) being put aside, a pretty strong case could be -made out for the statement that individual happiness is best attained -by ignoring the happiness of others. Probably the most that can be -established on the other side is that a due prudence dictates that -_some_ attention be paid to the pleasures of others, in calculating -one's own pleasures. - -And this suggests: - -2. That the end is still private pleasure, general pleasure being -simply a means. Granting all that the hedonists urge, what their -arguments prove is not that the general pleasure is the end of action, -but that, private pleasure being the end, regard for the pleasures of -others is one of the most efficient means of reaching it. If private -pleasure is a selfish end, the end is not less selfish because the road -to it happens to bring pleasure to others also. - - See Royce, Religious Aspect of Philosophy, pp. 61-74. - -3. The use of education and law to bring about this identity, -presupposes that we already have the _ideal_ of the identity as -something desirable to realize--it takes for granted the very thing to -be proved. Why should it occur to men to use the private influence of -opinion and education, and the public influences of law and penalty -to identify private welfare with public, unless they were already -convinced that general welfare was the end of conduct, the one -desirable thing? What the hedonist has to do is to show how, from the -end of private happiness, we may get to the end of general happiness. -What Bentham and Mill do show is, that if we take general happiness as -the end, we may and do use education and law to bring about an identity -of personal and general pleasures. This may go undoubted, but the -question how we get the general happiness as the end, the good, remains -unanswered. - -Nor is this all. The conception of general happiness, taken by itself, -has all the abstractness, vagueness and uncertainty of that of personal -happiness, multiplied indefinitely by the greater number of persons -introduced. To calculate the effects of actions upon the general -happiness--when happiness is interpreted as a state of feeling--is an -impossibility. And thus it is that when one is speaking of pleasures -one is really thinking of welfare, or well-being, or satisfied and -progressive human lives. Happiness is considered as it would be, if -determined by certain active and well defined interests, and thus the -hedonistic theory, while contradicting itself, gets apparently all -the support of an opposed theory. Universalistic hedonism thus, more -or less expressly, takes for granted a social order, or community of -persons, of which the agent is simply one member like any other. This -is the ideal which it proposes to realize. In this way--although at the -cost of logical suicide--the ideal gets a content and a definiteness -upon which it is possible to base judgments. - - That this social organization of persons is the ideal which - Mill is actually thinking of, rather than any succession of - states of agreeable sensation, is evident by his treatment - of the whole subject. Mill is quite clear that education - and opinion may produce _any_ sort of feeling, as well as - truly benevolent motives to actions. For example, in his - critique of Whewell, he says, (Op. cit., p. 154): "All - experience shows that the moral feelings are preėminently - artificial, and the products of culture; that even when - reasonable, they are no more spontaneous than the growth - of corn and wine (which are quite as natural), and that - the most senseless and pernicious feeling can as easily be - raised to the utmost intensity by inculcation, as hemlock - and thistles could be reared to luxuriant growth by sowing - them instead of wheat." It is certainly implied here that - legislation, education and public opinion must have as a - presupposed standard the identity of general and private - interests or else they may produce anything whatever. - That is to say, Mill instead of arriving at his result of - general happiness simply takes it for granted. - - This fact and the further fact that he virtually defines - happiness through certain objective interests and ends - (thus reversing the true hedonistic position) is obvious - from the following, (Mill, Op. cit., pp. 343-347): After - again stating that the moral feelings are capable of - cultivation in almost any direction, and stating that - moral associations that are of artificial construction - dissolve through the force of intellectual analysis (_cf._ - his Autobiography, p. 136), and that the association - of pleasure with the feeling of duty would similarly - dissolve unless it had a _natural_ basis of sentiment, he - goes on. "But there is this basis of powerful _natural_ - sentiment. This firm foundation is that of the social - feelings of mankind; the desire to be in unity with our - fellow-creatures. _The social state is at once so natural, - so necessary, and so habitual to man that except in some - unusual circumstances, or by an effort of voluntary - abstraction he never conceives of himself otherwise than - as a member of a body._ Any condition, therefore, which - is essential to a state of society becomes more and more - an inseparable part of every person's conception of the - state of things which he is born into, and which is the - destiny of a human being." Mill then goes on to describe - some of the ways in which the social unity manifests itself - and influences the individual's conduct. Then the latter - "comes, as though instinctively, to be conscious of himself - as a being who _of course_ pays regard to others. The good - of others becomes to him a thing naturally and necessarily - to be attended to, like any of the physical conditions of - our existence. _The deeply-rooted conception which every - individual even now has of himself as a social being tends - to make him feel it as one of his natural wants, that there - should be harmony between his feelings and aims and those - of his fellow-creatures._ This conviction is the ultimate - sanction of the greatest happiness morality." - -It is to be noticed that there is involved in this account three ideas, -any one of which involves such a reconstruction of the pleasure theory -as to be a surrender of hedonism. - -1. There is, in one instance, a _natural_ (or intrinsic) connection -between the end of conduct and the feelings, and not simply an -external or artificial bond. This is in the case of the social -feelings. In other words, in one case the ideal, that is, happiness, -is intrinsically, or necessarily connected with a certain kind of -conduct, that flowing from the social impulses. This, of course, -reverses hedonism for it makes happiness dependent upon a certain kind -of conduct, instead of determining the nature of conduct according as -it happens to result in pleasure or pain. - -2. Man conceives of himself, of his end or of his destiny as a member -of a social body, and this conception determines the nature of his -wants and aims. That is to say, it is not mere happiness that a man -wants, but a certain _kind_ of happiness, that which would satisfy a -man who conceived of himself as social, or having ends and interests in -common with others. - -3. Finally, it is not mere general "happiness" which is the end, at -all. It is social unity; "harmony of feelings and aims," a beneficial -condition for one's self in which the benefits of all are included. -Instead of the essentially vague idea of states of pleasurable -sensation we have the conception of a community of interests and ends, -in securing which alone is true happiness to be found. This conception -of the moral ideal we regard as essentially true, but it is not -hedonism. It gives up wholly the notion that pleasure is the _desired_, -and, since it sets up a standard by which it determines pleasure, it -gives up equally the notion that pleasure as such is the _desirable_. - - In addition to the works already referred to, the following - will give fuller ideas of hedonism and utilitarianism: For - historical treatment see Sidgwick, History of Ethics; Jodl, - Geschichte der Ethik, Vol. II., pp. 482-468; Bain, Moral - Science, Historical Mention; Guyau, La Morale Anglaise - Contemporaine; Wallace, Epicureanism; Pater, Marius, the - Epicurean; Paley, Moral and Political Philosophy; Grote, - Examination of the Utilitarian Philosophy (especially - fair and valuable criticism); Lecky, History of European - Morals, Vol. I, ch. I; Birks, Utilitarianism (hostile); - Blackie, Four Phases of Morals: Essay on Utilitarianism - (hostile); Gizycki, Students' Manual of Ethical Philosophy, - (Coit's trans., favorable); Calderwood, Hand-Book of Moral - Philosophy (opposed); Laurie, Ethica (_e. g._, p. 10). "The - object of will is not pleasure, not yet happiness, but - reason-given law--the law of harmony; but this necessarily - ascertained through feeling, and, therefore, through - happiness." - - Wilson and Fowler, Principles of Morals, Vol. I, pp. - 98-112; Vol. II, pp. 262-273. Paulsen, System der Ethik, - pp. 195-210. - - -XXIV. - -The Utilitarian Theory Combined With the Doctrine of Evolution. - -There has lately been an attempt to combine utilitarian morality with -the theory of evolution. This position, chiefly as occupied by Herbert -Spencer and Leslie Stephen, we shall now examine. - - Alexander, also, Moral Order and Progress, makes large use - of the theory of evolution, but does not attempt to unite - it with any form of hedonism. - -For the combination, at least three decided advantages are claimed over -ordinary utilitarianism. - -1. It transforms 'empirical rules' into 'rational laws.' The -evolutionary hedonists regard pleasure as the good, but hold that the -theory of evolution enables them to judge _of the relation of acts to -pleasure_ much better than the ordinary theory. As Mr. Spencer puts -it, the ordinary theory is not scientific, because it does not fully -recognize the principle of causation as existing between certain -acts as causes, and pleasures (or pains) as effects. It undoubtedly -recognizes that some acts _do_ result in pain or pleasure, but does -not show _how_ or _why_ they so result. By the aid of the theory of -evolution we can demonstrate that certain acts _must_ be beneficial -because furthering evolution, and others painful because retarding it. - - Spencer, Data of Ethics, pp. 5758. "Morality properly - so-called--the science of right conduct--has for its object - to determine _how_ and _why_ certain rules of conduct are - detrimental, and certain other rules beneficial. Those good - and bad results cannot be accidental, but must be necessary - consequences of the constitution of things; and I conceive - it to be the business of moral science to _deduce, from - the laws of life and the conditions of existence_, what - kinds of action _necessarily_ tend to produce happiness, - and what kinds to produce unhappiness. Having done this, - its deductions are to be recognized as laws of conduct; and - are to be conformed to irrespective of a direct estimation - of happiness or misery.... The objection which I have to - the current utilitarianism is, that it recognizes no more - developed form of utility--does not see that it has reached - but the initial stage of moral science.... It is supposed - that in future, as now, utility is to be determined only by - observation of results; and that there is no possibility - of knowing by deduction from fundamental principles what - conduct _must_ be detrimental and what conduct _must_ be - beneficial." _Cf._ also ch. IX, and Stephen, Science of - Ethics, ch. IX. - -It is contended, then, that by the use of the evolutionary theory, we -may substitute certain conditions, which in the very nature of things -tend to produce happiness, for a calculation, based upon observation -of more or less varying cases in the past, of the probable results of -the specific action. Thus we get a fixed objective standard and do -away with all the objections based upon the uncertainty, vagueness and -liability to exceptions, of the ordinary utilitarian morality. - - Spencer, Op. cit., p. 162: "When alleging that empirical - utilitarianism is but introductory to rational - utilitarianism I pointed out that the last does not take - welfare for its _immediate_ object of pursuit, but takes - for its immediate object of pursuit conformity to certain - principles which, in the nature of things, causally - determine welfare." - -2. It reconciles 'intuitionalism' with 'empiricism.' The theory of -evolution not only gives us an objective standard on which happiness -necessarily depends, and from which we may derive our laws of conduct, -instead of deriving them from observation of particular cases, but -it enables us to recognize that there are certain moral ideas now -innate or intuitive. The whole human race, the whole animal race, has -for an indefinite time been undergoing experiences of what leads to -pleasure and of what leads to pain, until finally the results of these -experiences have become organized into our very physical and mental -make-up. The first point was that we could substitute for consideration -of results consideration of the causes which determine these results; -the present point is that so far as we have to use results, we can use -those of the race, instead of the short span of the individual's life. - - Spencer, Op. cit., pp. 123-124. "The experiences of utility - organized and consolidated through all past generations - of the human race have been producing corresponding - nervous modifications, which, by continued transmission - and accumulation, have become in us certain faculties - of moral intuition--certain emotions corresponding to - right and wrong conduct, which have no apparent basis in - the individual experiences of utility.... The evolution - hypothesis thus enables us to reconcile opposed moral - theories.... The doctrine of innate powers of moral - perception become congruous with the utilitarian doctrine, - when it is seen that preferences and aversions are rendered - organic by inheritance of the effects of pleasurable and - painful experiences in progenitors." - -3. It reconciles 'egoism' with 'altruism.' As we have seen, the -relation of personal pleasure to general happiness presents very -serious difficulties to hedonism. It is claimed, however, that the -very process of evolution necessitates a certain identity. The being -which survives must be the being which has properly adapted himself to -his environment, which is largely social, and there is assurance that -the conduct will be adapted to the environment just in the degree in -which pleasure is taken in acts which concern the welfare of others. -If an agent has no pleasure in such acts he will either not perform -them, or perform them only occasionally, and thus will not meet the -conditions of surviving. If surrounding conditions demand constantly -certain actions, those actions in time must come to be pleasurable. The -conditions of survival demand altruistic action, and hence such action -must become pleasurable to the agent (and in that sense egotistic). - - "From the laws of life (Spencer Op. cit., p. 205) it must - be concluded that unceasing social discipline will so mould - human action, that eventually sympathetic pleasures will - be pursued to the fullest extent advantageous to each and - all.... Though pleasure may be gained by giving pleasure, - yet the thought of the sympathetic pleasure to be gained - will not occupy consciousness, but only the thought of the - pleasure given." - - -XXV. - -Criticism of Evolutionary Utilitarianism. - -Regarding the whole foregoing scheme, it may be said so far as it is -true, or suggestive of truth, it is not hedonistic. It does not judge -actions from their effects in the way of pleasure or pain, but it -judges pleasures from the basis of an independent standard 'in the -nature of things.' It is expressly declared that happiness is not to -be so much the end, as the _test_ of conduct, and it is not happiness -in general, of every sort and kind, but a certain kind of happiness, -happiness conditioned by certain modes of activity, that is the test. -Spencer's hedonism in its final result hardly comes to more than saying -that in the case of a perfect individual in a perfect society, every -action whatever would be accompanied by pleasure, and that, therefore, -_in such a society_, pleasure would be an infallible sign and test of -the morality of action--a position which is not denied by any ethical -writer whatever, unless a few extreme ascetics. Such a position simply -determines the value of pleasure by an independent criterion, and then -goes on to say _of pleasure so determined_, that it is the test of -the morality of action. This may be true, but, true or not, it is not -hedonistic. - -Furthermore, this standard by which the nature of pleasure is -determined is itself an ethical (that is, active) standard. We have -already seen that Spencer conceives that the modes of producing -happiness are to be deduced from the "laws of life and the conditions -of existence". This might be, of course, a deduction from _physical_ -laws and conditions. But when we find that the laws and conditions -which Spencer employs are mainly those of _social_ life, it is -difficult to see why he is not employing a strictly ethical standard. -To deduce not right actions directly from happiness, but the kinds of -actions which will produce happiness from a consideration of a certain -ideal of social relationships seems like a reversal of hedonism; but -this is what Mr. Spencer does. - - -XXVI. - -The Real Criterion of Evolutionary Ethics. - -Mr. Spencer expressly recognizes that there exists (1) an ideal code of -conduct, formulating the conduct of the completely adapted man in the -completely evolved society. Such a code is called absolute ethics as -distinguished from relative ethics--a code the injunctions of which -are alone to be considered "as absolutely right, in contrast with those -that are relatively right or least wrong, and which, as a system of -ideal conduct, is to serve as a standard for our guidance in solving, -as well as we can, the problems of real conduct" (p. 275 of the Data of -Ethics). "The ideal code deals, it will be observed, with the behavior -of the completely adapted man in a completely evolved society." This -ideal as elsewhere stated, is "an ideal social being so constituted -that his spontaneous activities are congruous with the conditions -imposed by the social environment formed by other such beings.... The -ultimate man is one in whom there is a correspondence between all -the promptings of his nature and all the requirements of his life as -carried on in society" (p. 275). Furthermore, "to make the ideal man -serve as a standard, he has to be defined _in terms of the conditions -which his nature fulfill_--in terms of the objective requisites which -must be met before conduct can be right" (p. 179). "Hence it is -manifest that we must consider the ideal man as existing in the ideal -social state" (p. 280). - -Here we have in the most express terms the recognition of a final and -permanent standard with reference to which the nature of happiness is -determined, and the standard is one of social relationships. To be -sure it is claimed that the standard is one which results in greatest -happiness, but every ethical theory has always claimed that the ideal -moral condition would be accompanied by the maximum possible happiness. - -2. The ideal state is defined with reference to the end of evolution. -That is, Spencer defines pleasure from an independent standard instead -of using pleasure as the standard. This standard is to be got at by -considering that idea of "fully evolved conduct" given by the theory of -evolution. This fully evolved conduct implies: (i.) Greatest possible -quantity of life, both in length and breadth; (ii.) Similar maintenance -of life in progeny; and (iii.) Life in which there is no interference -of actions by one with those of another, and, indeed, life in which -the "members of a society" give material help in the achievement of -ends, thus rendering the "lives of all more complete". (See Chap. II -of Data of Ethics). Furthermore, the "complete life here identified -with the ideally moral life" may be otherwise defined as a life of -perfect equilibrium (p. 74), or balance of functions (p. 90), and this -considered not simply with reference to the individual, but also with -reference to the relation of the individual to society. "Complete life -in a complete society is but another name for complete equilibrium -between the co-ordinated activities of each social unit and those of -the aggregate of units" (p. 74, and the whole of chap. V. See also -pp. 169-170 for the position that the end is a society in which each -individual has full functions freely exercised in due harmony, and is, -p. 100, "the spontaneous exercise of duly proportioned faculties"). - -3. Not only is pleasure thus determined by an objective standard of -"complete living in a complete society" but it is expressly recognized -that _as things are now, pleasure is not a perfect guide to, or even -test of action_. And this difficulty is thought to be removed by -reference to the ideal state in which right action and happiness will -fully coincide. - -The failure of pleasure as a perfect test and guide of right conduct, -comes out in at least three cases:-- - -1. There is the conflict of one set of pleasures with another, or of -present happiness with future, one lot having to be surrendered for the -sake of another. This is wrong, since pleasure as such is good, and, -although a fact at present, exists only on account of the incomplete -development of society. When there is "complete adjustment of humanity -to the social state there will be recognition of the truth that actions -are completely right only when, besides being conducive to future -happiness, special and general, they are immediately pleasurable, and -that painfulness, not only ultimate but proximate, is the concomitant -of actions which are wrong" (p. 29. See for various cases in which -"pleasures are not connected with actions which must be performed" and -for the statement that this difficulty will be removed in an ideal -state of society, p. 77; pp. 85-87; pp. 98-99). - -2. There is also, at present, a conflict of individual happiness with -social welfare. In the first place, as long as there exist antagonistic -societies, the individual is called upon to sacrifice his own happiness -to that of others, but "such moralities are, by their definition, shown -to belong to incomplete conduct; not to conduct that is fully evolved" -(See pp. 133-137). Furthermore, there will be conflict of claims, and -consequent compromises between one's own pleasure and that of others -(p. 148), until there is a society in which there is "complete living -through voluntary co-operation", this implying negatively that one -shall not interfere with another and shall fulfill contracts, and -positively that men shall spontaneously help to aid one another lives -beyond any specified agreement (pp. 146-149). - -3. There is, at present, a conflict of obligation with pleasure. -Needed activities, in other words, have often to be performed under a -pressure, which either lessens the pleasure of the action, or brings -pain, the act being performed, however, to avoid a greater pain (so -that this point really comes under the first head). But "the remoulding -of human nature into fitness for the requirements of social life, must -eventually make all needful activities pleasurable, while it makes -displeasurable all activities at variance with these requirements" (p. -183). "The things now done with dislike, through sense of obligation, -will be done then with immediate liking" (p. 84, and p. 186; and pp. -255-256). All the quotations on these various points are simply so many -recognitions that pleasure and pain as such are not tests of morality, -but that they become so when morality is independently realized. -Pleasure is _not_ now a test of conduct, but becomes such a test as -fast as activity becomes full and complete! What is this but to admit -(what was claimed in Sec. XIII) that activity itself is what man wants; -not _mere_ activity, but the activity which belongs to man as man, -and which therefore has for its realized content all man's practical -relationships. - - Of Spencer's conception of the ideal as something not now - realized, but to be some time or other realized once for - all, we have said nothing. But see below, Sec. 64, and also - Alexander, Op. cit., pp. 264-277, and also James, Unitarian - Review, Vol. XXII., pp. 212-213. - - We have attempted, above, to deal with evolutionary - ethics only in the one point of its supposed connection - with pleasure as a standard. Accounts and criticisms - of a broader scope will be found in Darwin, Descent - of Man; Martineau, Op. cit., Vol. II, pp. 335-393; - Schurman, Ethical Import of Darwinism; Sorley, Ethics of - Naturalism, chapters V, and VI; Stephen, Science of Ethics, - particularly pp. 31-34; 78-89; 359-379; Royce, Religious - Aspect of Philosophy, pp. 74-85; Everett, Poetry, Comedy - and Duty, Essay on the New Ethics; Seth in Mind, Jan. 1889, - on Evolution of Morality; Dewey, Andover Review, Vol. VII, - p. 570; Hyslop, Ibid., Vol. IX, p. 348. - - -XXVII. - -Formal Ethics. - -We come now to the ethical theories which attempt to find the good -not only in the will itself, but in the will irrespective of any end -to be reached by the will. The typical instance of such theories is -the Kantian, and we shall, therefore, make that the basis of our -examination. Kant's theory, however, is primarily a theory not of the -good, but of the nature of duty, and that makes a statement of his -doctrine somewhat more difficult. - - "The concept of good and evil must not be determined - before the moral law (of which it seems as if it must be - the foundation), but only after it and by means of it" - (Abbott's Trans., p. 154). - -Separating, as far as we can, his theory of the good from that of duty, -we get the following results: - -1. Goodness belongs to the will, and to that alone. "Nothing can -possibly be conceived, in the world or out of it, which can be called -good without qualification except a good will." The will is not good -because of what it brings about, or what it is fitted to bring about; -that is, it is not good on account of its adaptation to any end outside -of itself. It is good in itself. "It is like a jewel which shines by -its own light, having its whole value in itself." - -2. The good, then, is not to be found in any _object_ of will or of -desire, nor in the will _so far as it is directed towards an end -outside itself_. For the will to be moved by inclination or by desire -is for it to be moved for the sake of some external end, which, -moreover, is always pleasure (Kant, _i. e._, agrees with the hedonists -regarding the object of desire, but on that very ground denies that -pleasure is the good or the desirable). If, then, no object of desire -can be the motive of a good will, what is its motive? Evidently only -some principle derived from the will itself. The good will is the will -which acts from regard to its own law. - -3. What is the nature of this law? All objects of desire (_i. e._, all -material) have been excluded from it. It must, therefore, be purely -formal. The only content of the law of the good will is the _idea of -law itself_. The good will acts from reverences for law as _law_. It -not only acts _in conformity with law_, but has the conception of law -as its directing spring. - -4. There must, however, be some application of this motive of law in -general to particular motives or acts. This is secured as follows: The -idea of law carries with it the idea of universality or self-identity. -To act from the idea of law is then so to act that the motive of action -can be generalized--made a motive for all conduct. The good will is -the _legislative_ will; the will whose motive can be made a law for -conduct universally. The question in a specific case is then: Can your -motive here be made universal, _i. e._, a law? If the action is bad, -determined by an object of desire, it will be contingent and variable, -since pleasures are different to different persons and to the same -person from moment to moment. The will is good, then, when its motive -(or maxim) is to be found solely in the _legislative form_ of the -action, or in its fitness to be generalized into a universal principle -of conduct, and the law of the good will is: "Act so that the maxim -of thy will can always at the same time hold good as a principle of -universal legislation" (Abbott's Trans., p. 119; also p. 55). - -5. The application may be illustrated by the following cases: - -(_a_) Some one, wearied by what he conceives to be the entire misery -of life proposes to commit suicide, but he asks himself whether this -maxim based on the principle of self-love could become a universal law -of nature; and "we see at once that a system of nature in which the -very feeling, whose office is to compel men to the preservation of -life, should lead men by a universal law to death, cannot be conceived -without contradiction". That is to say, the principle of the motive -which would lead a man to suicide cannot be generalized without -becoming contradictory--it cannot be made a law universal. - -(_b_) An individual wishes to borrow money which he knows that he -cannot repay. Can the maxim of this act be universalized? Evidently -not: "a system of nature in which it should be a universal law to -promise without performing, for the sake of private good, would -contradict itself, for then no one would believe the promise--the -promise itself would become impossible as well as the end it had in -view." - -(_c_) A man finds that he has certain powers, but is disinclined to -develop them. Can he make the maxim of such conduct a universal law? He -cannot _will_ that it should become universal. "As a rational being, he -must will that his faculties be developed." - -(_d_) A prosperous individual is disinclined to relieve the misery -of others. Can his maxim be generalized? "It is impossible to _will_ -that such a principle should have the universal validity of a law of -nature. For a will which resolved this would contradict itself, in as -much as many cases might occur in which one would have need of the love -and sympathy of others, and in which, by such a law of nature, sprung -from his own will, he would deprive himself of all hope of the aid he -desires." - -In conclusion, then, the good is the good will itself, and the will is -good in virtue of the bare form of its action, independently of all -special material willed. - - See Abbott's trans., pp. 9-46; 105-120. Caird's Critical - Philosophy of Kant, Vol. II, pp. 171-181; 209-212. - - -XXVIII. - -Relation of this Theory to Hedonism. - -The Kantian theory, as already noticed, agrees in its psychology with -hedonism. It holds that pleasures are the objects of desire. But it -reverses the conclusion which hedonism draws from this fact _as to the -desirable_. Since pleasures are the object of desire, and pleasures can -give no law, no universality to action, the end of action must be found -wholly _outside_ the pleasures, and wholly outside the desires. It can -be found only in the bare law of the will itself. - -1. Hedonism finds the end of conduct, or the desirable, wholly -determined by the various particular desires which a man happens to -have; Kantianism holds that to discover the end of conduct, we must -wholly exclude the desires. - -2. Hedonism holds that the rightness of conduct is determined wholly by -its consequences; Kantianism holds that the consequences have nothing -to do with the rightness of an act, but that it is decided wholly by -the motive of the act. - -From this contrast, we may anticipate both our criticism of the Kantian -theory and our conception of the true end of action. The fundamental -error of hedonism and Kantianism is the same--the supposition that -desires are for pleasure only. Let it be recognized that desires -are for objects conceived as satisfying or developing the self, and -that pleasure is incidental to this fulfillment of the capacities -of self, and we have the means of escaping the one-sidedness of -Kantianism as well as of hedonism. We can see that the end is neither -the procuring of particular pleasures through the various desires, -nor action from the mere idea of abstract law in general, but that it -is the _satisfaction of desires according to law_. The desire in its -particular character does not give the law; this, as we saw in our -criticism of hedonism, is to take away all law from conduct and to -leave us at the mercy of our chance desires as they come and go. On -the other hand the law is not something wholly apart from the desires. -This, as we shall see, is equally to deprive us of a law capable of -governing conduct. The law is the law of the desires themselves--the -harmony and adjustment of desires necessary to make them instruments in -fulfilling the special destiny or business of the agent. - -From the same point of view we can see that the criterion is found -neither in the consequences of our acts _as pleasures_, nor _apart from -consequences_. It is found indeed in the consequences of acts, _but in -their complete consequences_:--those upon the agent and society, as -helping or hindering them in fulfillment of their respective functions. - - -XXIX. - -Criticism of Kantian Criterion of Conduct. - -1. _With reference to the unification of the conduct of the -individual._ Of pleasure as the object of desire, we need now say -nothing further, but may proceed at once to the criticism of the theory -that the will, acting according to the mere idea of law in general, is -the end of man and hence that it is the criterion of the rightness or -wrongness of his acts. We shall attempt to show that such an end is -wholly empty, and that it fails (as much as hedonism) to unify conduct -or to place any specific act as to its morality. - -The difficulty of the end proposed by Kant is that it is an -abstraction; that it is remote. The hedonist leaves out one element -from conduct, and takes into account the merely particular or -individualistic side; the Kantian abstracts the opposite element--the -merely universal. The formal universal, or universal stripped of all -particular content, has, considered as an end of action, at least three -defects. - -I. It is an end which would make impossible that very conduct of which -it is taken to be the end--that is, moral conduct. In denying that -pleasure is the end of action, we took pains to show that it (or rather -the feeling due to the tension between pleasure of a state considered -better and the pain of the experienced worse state) is a necessary -element in the force impelling to action. The mere conception of an -end is purely intellectual; there is nothing in it to move to action. -It must be _felt_ as valuable, as worth having, and as more valuable -than the present condition before it can induce to action. It must -_interest_, in a word, and thus excite desire. But if feeling is, as -Kant declares, to be excluded from the motive to action, because it -is pathological or related to pleasure as the object of desire, how -can there be any force moving to action? The mind seems to be set over -against a purely theoretical idea of an end, with nothing to connect -the mind with the end. Unless the end interests, unless it arouses -emotion, why should the agent ever aim at it? And if the law does -excite feeling or desire, must not this, on Kant's theory, be desire -for pleasure and thus vitiate the morality of the act? We seem to -be in a dilemma, one side of which makes moral action impossible by -taking away all inducing force, while the other makes it impossible by -introducing an immoral factor into the motive. - -Kant attempts to escape from this difficulty by claiming that there -is one feeling which is rational, and not sensuous in quality, being -excited not by the conception of pleasure or pain, but by that of the -moral law itself. This is the feeling of reverence, and through this -feeling we can be moved to moral action. Waiving the question whether -the mere idea of law in general would be capable of arousing any moral -sentiment--or, putting the matter from the other side, whether Kant -gives us a true account of the feeling of reverence--it is clear that -this admission is fatal to Kant's theory. If desire or feeling as such -is sensuous (or _pathological_, as Kant terms it), what right have we -to make this one exception? And if we can make this one exception, why -not others? If it is possible in the case of reverence, why not in -the case, say, of patriotism, or of friendship, or of philanthropy, -or of love--or even of curiosity, or of indignation, or of desire -for approbation? Kant's separation of reverence, as the one moral -sentiment from all others as pathological, is wholly arbitrary. The -only distinction we can draw is of the feelings as they well up -naturally in reaction upon stimuli, sentiments not conceived and thus -neither moral nor immoral, and sentiments as transformed by ends of -action, in which case all without exception may be moral or immoral, -according to the character of the end. The Kantian separation is not -only arbitrary psychologically, but is false historically. So far is -it from true that the only moral sentiment is reverence for law, that -men must have been moved toward action for centuries by motives of -love and hate and social regard, before they became capable of such -an abstract feeling as reverence. And it may be questioned whether -this feeling, as Kant treats it, is even the highest or ultimate form -of moral sentiment--whether it is not transitional to love, in which -there is complete union of the individual interest on one hand, and the -objective end on the other. - - For these criticisms at greater length, see Caird, Critical - Philosophy of Kant, Vol. II, Bk. II, ch. IV. - -II. The Kantian end would not bring about any system in conduct--on -the contrary, it would tend to differences and collisions. What is -required to give unity to the sphere of conduct is, as we have seen, -a principle which shall comprehend all the motives to action, giving -each its due place in contributing to the whole--a universal which -shall organize the various particular acts into a harmonious system. -Now Kant's conception of the good does not lead to such result. We -may even say that it makes it impossible. According to Kant each act -must be considered independently of every other, and must be capable -of generalization on its own account. Each motive of action must be -capable of being _itself_ a universal law of nature. Each particular -rule of action is thus made absolute, and we are left not with one -universal which comprehends all particulars in their relations to one -another, but literally with a lot of universals. These not only fail -to have a unity, but each, as absolute, must contradict some other. If -the principles always to tell the truth and always to preserve life -are universal _in themselves_, and not universal simply _through their -relation to some total and controlling principle of life_, it must be -impossible to reconcile them when they come into conflict. - - See Caird, Op. cit., Vol. II, pp. 187-190, and p. 215. - _Cf._ "Treated as universal and without exception, even - two such commands as _e. g._, 'Thou shalt not steal,' and - 'Thou shalt not kill,' must ultimately come into conflict - with each other; for, if all other interests are to be - postponed to the maintenance of the rights of property, - it is impossible that all other interests should also be - postponed to the preservation of human life--and to make - either property or life an absolute end is to raise a - particular into a universal, to treat a part as if it were - a whole. But the true moral vindication of each particular - interest cannot be found in elevating it into something - universal and absolute, but only in determining its place - in relation to the others in a complete system of morality." - -III. The principle is so empty of all content that it does not enable -us to judge of any specific act. - - A caution should be noticed here, which is equally - applicable to the criticism of hedonism: When it is said - that the end does not enable us to judge of specific - acts, the objection is not that the _theory_ (Kantianism - or hedonism, as the case may be) does not give us rules - for moral conduct. It is not the business of any theory, - however correct as a theory, to lay down rules for conduct. - The theory has simply to discover what the _end_ is, and it - is the end in view which determines specific acts. It is - no more the business of ethics to tell what in particular - a man ought to do, than it is of trigonometry to survey - land. But trigonometry must state the principles by which - land _is_ surveyed, and so ethics must state the end by - which conduct _is_ governed. The objection to hedonism and - Kantianism is that the end they give does not _itself_ - stand in any practical relation to conduct. We do not - object to Kantianism because the _theory_ does not help us - as to specific acts, but because the _end_, formal law, - does not help us, while the real moral end must determine - the whole of conduct. - -Suppose a man thrown into the complex surroundings of life with an -intelligence fully developed, but with no previous knowledge of right -or wrong, or of the prevailing moral code. He is to know, however, -that goodness is to be found in the good will, and that the good will -is the will moved by the mere idea of the universality of law. Can -we imagine such an one deriving from his knowledge any idea of what -concrete ends he ought to pursue and what to avoid? He is surrounded -by special circumstances calling for special acts, and all he knows is -that _whatever_ he does is to be done from respect for its universal -or legislative quality. What community is there between this principle -and _what_ he is to do? There is no bridge from the mere thought of -universal law to any concrete end coming under the law. There is no -common principle out of which grows the conception of law on one hand, -and of the various special ends of action, on the other. - -Suppose, however, that ends are independently suggested or proposed, -will the Kantian conception serve to _test_ their moral fitness? Will -the conception that the end must be capable of being generalized -tell us whether this or that end is one to be followed? The fact -is, that there is no end whatever that _in or by itself_, cannot be -considered as self-identical, or as universal. If we presuppose a -certain rule, or if we presuppose a certain moral order, it may be -true that a given motive cannot be universalized without coming into -conflict with this presupposed rule or order. But aside from some -moral system into connection with which a proposed end may be brought, -for purposes of comparison, lying is just as capable as truth-telling -of generalization. There is no more contradiction in the motive of -universal stealing than there is in that of universal honesty--unless -there is as standard some order or system of things into which the -proposed action is to fit as a member. And this makes not the bare -universality of the act, but the system, the real criterion for -determining the morality of the act. - - Thus Mill remarks, regarding Kant's four illustrations - (_Ante_, p. 80), that Kant really has to employ utilitarian - considerations to decide whether the act is moral or not. - - For the foregoing criticisms, see Bradley, Ethical Studies, - Essay IV; Caird, Op. cit., Vol. II, pp. 185-186, and - 212-214, and, indeed, the whole of ch. II of Bk. II. - - -XXX. - -Criticism of Kantian Criterion of Conduct. - -2. _With reference to the furnishing of a common good or end._ If -the Kantian end is so formal and empty as not to enable us to bring -into relation with one another the various acts of one individual, we -may agree, without argument, that it does not provide us with an end -which shall unify the acts of different men into a connected order -of conduct. The moral end, the acting from regard for law as law, -is presented to each individual by himself, entirely apart from his -relations to others. That he has such relations may, indeed, furnish -additional material to which the law must be applied, but is something -to which the character of the law is wholly indifferent. The end is not -in itself a social end, and it is a mere accident if in any case social -considerations have to be taken into account. It is of the very quality -of the end that it appeals to the individual as an isolated individual. - - It is interesting to note the way in which Kant, without - expressly giving up the purely formal character of the - moral end, gives it more and more content, and that content - social. The moral law is not imposed by any external - authority, but by the rational will itself. To be conscious - of a universal self-imposed law is to be conscious of - one's self as having a universal aspect. The source of - the law and its end are both in the will--in the rational - self. Thus man is an end to himself, for the rational self - is man. Such a being is a person--"Rational beings are - _persons_, because their nature marks them out as ends - in themselves, _i. e._, as beings who should never be - used merely as means.... Such beings are not ends simply - _for us_, whose existence as brought about by our action - has value, but _objective ends_, _i. e._, beings whose - existence is an end in itself, an end for which no other - end can be substituted so as to reduce it to a mere means." - Thus, we get a second formula. "Always treat humanity, - both in your own person and in the person of others, as an - end and never merely as a means." (Abbott's Trans., pp. - 46-47; Caird, Op. cit., Vol. II, 219). Here the criterion - of action is no longer the bare self-consistency of its - motive, but its consistency with the rational nature of - the agent, that which constitutes him a person. And, too, - "the will of every rational being is likewise a universally - law-giving will." (Abbott, p. 49). The conception of - humanity embodied in others as well as in one's self is - introduced, and thus our criterion is socialized. Even now, - however, we have a lot of persons, each of whom has to - be considered as an end in himself, rather than a social - unity as to which every individual has an equal and common - reference. Kant advances to this latter idea in his notion - of a "Kingdom of ends." "We get the idea of a complete and - systematically connected totality of all ends--a whole - system of rational beings as ends in themselves as well - as of the special ends which each of them may set up for - himself--_i.e._, a kingdom of ends.... Morality is the - reference of all deeds to the legislation which alone can - make such a kingdom possible." (See Abbott's Trans., pp. - 51-52). This transformation of a mere formal universal into - a society or kingdom of persons--while not sufficiently - analyzed as Kant states it (see Caird, Vol. II, pp. - 225-226)--gives us truly a social criterion, and we shall - hereafter meet something resembling it as the true ideal. - As finally stated, it does not differ in essential content - from Mill's individual who "conceives of himself only as - a member of a body," or from Spencer's free man in a free - society. - - -XXXI. - -Value of Kantian Theory. - -We must not leave the Kantian theory with the impression that it is -simply the caprice of a philosopher's brain. In two respects, at least, -it presents us, as we shall see, with elements that must be adopted; -and even where false it is highly instructive. - -Kant's fundamental error is in his conception that all desires or -inclinations are for private pleasure, and are, therefore, to be -excluded from the conception of the moral end. Kant's conclusion, -accordingly, that the good will is purely formal follows inevitably -if ever it is granted that there is any intrinsic opposition between -inclination as such, and reason or moral law as such. If there is such -an opposition, _all_ desire must be excluded from relation to the -end. We cannot make a compromise by distinguishing between higher and -lower desires. On the contrary, if the end is to have content, it must -include all desires, leaving out none as in itself base or unworthy. -Kant's great negative service was showing that the ascetic principle -logically results in pure formalism--meaning by ascetic principle that -which disconnects inclinations from moral action. - -Kant's positive service was, first, his clear insight into the fact -that the good is to be found only in activity; that the will itself, -and nothing beyond itself, is the end; and that to adopt any other -doctrine, is to adopt an immoral principle, since it is to subordinate -the will (character, self and personality), to some outside end. -His second great service was in showing the necessity of putting in -abeyance the immediate satisfaction of each desire as it happens to -arise, and of subordinating it to some law not to be found in the -particular desire. He showed that not the particular desire, but only -the desire as controlled by the idea of law could be the motive of -moral action. And if he fell into the error of holding that this meant -that the desire must be excluded from the moral motive, this error does -not make it less true that every particular desire must be controlled -by a universal law. The truth of asceticism is that the desire must be -checked until subordinated to the activity of the whole man. See Caird, -Op. cit., Vol. II, p. 200; pp. 203-207; 226-227. - - -XXXII. - -The Problem and Its Solution. - -If we gather together the results of our observations of hedonism and -of Kantianism we get something like the following problem and solution -in outline. The end of action, or the good, is the realized will, the -developed or satisfied self. This satisfied self is found neither in -the getting of a lot of pleasures through the satisfaction of desires -just as they happen to arise, nor in obedience to law simply because -it is law. It is found in _satisfaction of desires according to law_. -This law, however, is not something external to the desires, but is -their own law. Each desire is only one striving of character for larger -action, and the only way in which it can really find satisfaction -(that is, pass from inward striving into outward action) is _as_ a -manifestation of character. A desire, taken as a desire for its own -apparent or direct end _only_, is an abstraction. It is a desire for -an entire and continuous activity, and its satisfaction requires that -it fitted into this entire and continuous activity; that it be made -conformable to the conditions which will bring the whole man into -action. It is this fitting-in which is the law of the desire--the -'universal' controlling its particular nature. This 'fitting-in' is no -mechanical shearing off, nor stretching out, but a reconstruction of -the natural desire till it becomes an expression of the whole man. The -problem then is to find that special form of character, of self, which -includes and transforms all special desires. This form of character is -at once the Good and the Law of man. - -We cannot be content with the notion that the end is the satisfaction -of the self, a satisfaction at once including and subordinating the -ends of the particular desire. This tells us nothing positive--however -valuable it may be negatively in warning us against one-sided -notions--until we know _what_ that whole self is, and _in what_ -concretely its satisfaction consists. As the first step towards such a -more concrete formula, we may say: - - -XXXIII. - -The Moral End or the Good is the Realization by a Person and as a -Person of Individuality. - -In saying that this realization is _by a person_ and _as a person_ we -are saying nothing new. We are simply repeating what we have already -learned about moral conduct (Sec. III). Conduct is not that which -simply reaches certain consequences--a bullet shot from a rifle does -that; there is conduct only when the consequences are foreseen; made -the reason of action. A person is a being capable of conduct--a being -capable of proposing to himself ends and of attempting to realize them. - -But what is the meaning of the rest of the formula? What do we mean by -individuality? We may distinguish two factors--or better two aspects, -two sides--in individuality. On one side, it means special disposition, -temperament, gifts, bent, or inclination; on the other side, it means -special station, situation, limitations, surroundings, opportunities, -etc. Or, let us say, it means _specific capacity_ and _specific -environment_. Each of these elements, apart from the other, is a bare -abstraction and without reality. Nor is it strictly correct to say that -individuality is constituted by these two factors _together_. It is -rather, as intimated above, that each is individuality looked at from a -certain point of view, from within or from without. - -If we are apt to identify individuality with the inner side alone, with -capacity apart from its surroundings, a little reflection will show -the error. Even the most devoted adherent of "self-culture" would not -hold that a gift could be developed, or a disposition manifested, in -isolation from all exterior circumstances. Let the disposition, the -gift be what it may (amiable or irascible, a talent for music or for -abstract science, or for engineering), its existence, to say nothing of -its culture, apart from some surroundings is bare nonsense. If a person -shuts himself up in a closet or goes out into the desert the better -to cultivate his capacities, there is still the desert or the closet -there; and it is as conditioned by them, and with reference to them -that he must cultivate himself. For more is true than that, as a matter -of fact, no man can wholly withdraw himself from surroundings; the -important point is that the manner and the purpose of exercising his -capacity is always _relative_ to and _dependent_ upon the surroundings. -Apart from the environment the capacity is mere emptiness; the exercise -of capacity is always establishing a relation to something exterior to -itself. All we can say of capacity apart from environment is that _if_ -certain circumstances were supplied, there would be something there. We -call a capacity _capability_, possibility, as if for the very purpose -of emphasizing the necessity of external supplementing. - -We get the same fact, on the other side, by calling to mind that -circumstances, environment are not indifferent or irrelevant to -individuality. The difference between one individual and another lies -as much in the station in which each is placed as in the capacity -of each. That is to say, environment enters into individuality as a -constituent factor, helping make it what it is. - -On the other hand, it is capacity which makes the environment really an -environment _to_ the individual. - -The environment is not simply the facts which happen objectively to lie -about an agent; it is such part of the facts as may be _related_ to -the capacity and the disposition and gifts of the agent. Two members -of the same family may have what, to the outward eye, are exactly -the same surroundings, and yet each may draw from these surroundings -wholly unlike stimulus, material and motives. Each has a different -environment, made different by his own mode of selection; by the -different way in which his interests and desires play upon the plastic -material about him. It is not, then, the environment as physical of -which we are speaking, but as it appeals to consciousness, as it is -affected by the make-up of the agent. This is the _practical_ or -_moral_ environment. The environment is not, then, what is then and -there present in space. To the Christian martyr the sufferings of his -master, and the rewards of faithfulness to come to himself were more -real parts of his environment than the stake and fire. A Darwin or a -Wallace may find his environment in South America or the Philippine -Islands--or, indeed, in every fact of a certain sort wherever found -upon the earth or in whatever geological era. A man of philanthropic -instincts may find _his_ environment among Indians or Congo negroes. -Whatever, however near or remote in time and space, an individual's -capacities and needs relate him to, is his environment. The moment we -realize that only what one conceives as proper material for calling out -and expressing some internal capacity is a part of his surroundings, -we see not only that capacity depends upon environment, but that -environment depends upon capacity. In other words, we see that each in -itself is an abstraction, and that the real thing is the individual who -is constituted by capacity and environment in their relation to one -another. - -_Function_ is a term which we may use to express union of the two sides -of individuality. The idea of function is that of an active relation -established between power of doing, on one side, and something to -be done on the other. To exercise a function as a student is not to -cultivate tastes and possibilities internally; it is also to meet -external demands, the demands of fact, of teachers, of others needing -knowledge. The citizen exercises his function not simply in cultivating -sentiments of patriotism within; one has to meet the needs of the -city, the country in which one lives. The realization of an artistic -function is not poring over emotions of beauty pumped up within one's -self; it is the exercise of some calling. On the other hand, it hardly -needs saying that the function of a student, a citizen, an artist, is -not exercised in bare conformity to certain external requirements. -Without the inner disposition and inclination, we call conduct dead, -perfunctory, hypocritical. An activity is not functional, unless it is -organic, expressing the life of the agent. - -A function thus includes two sides--the external and the internal--and -reduces them to elements in one activity. We get an analogy in -any animal function. The digestive function includes the material -appropriated, just as much as it does the organ appropriating. It is -the service, the work which the organ does _in_ appropriating material. -So, morally, function is capacity _in action_; environment transformed -into an element in personal service. - -Thus we get another formula for the moral end: - -The performance by a person of his specific function, this function -consisting in an activity which realizes wants and powers with -reference to their peculiar surroundings. - - -XXXIV. - -Moral Functions as Interests. - -If morality consists in the exercise of one's _specific_ functions, it -follows that no _detailed_ account of the content of the moral end can -possibly be given. This content is thoroughly individual or infinite. -It is concrete to the core, including every detail of conduct, and this -not in a rigid formula, but in the movement of life. All we can do is, -by abstraction, to select some of the main features of the end, such as -the more common and the more permanent. While each individual has his -own particular functions, which can no more be exhausted by definition -or description than the qualities of any other individual object, it is -also true that we can recognize certain typical functions to be found -permanently and in all. These make, as it were, the skeleton of the -moral end which each clothes with his own flesh and blood. - -Functions are _interests_--objective interests were not the term -tautological. Interests have three traits worth special mention. - -1. They are _active_. An interest is not an emotion produced from -without. It is the reaction of the emotion to the object. Interest is -identified, in ordinary speech, with attention; we _take_ an interest, -or, if we say simply 'interested,' that involves some excitation, -some action just beginning. We talk of a man's interests, meaning his -occupations or range of activities. - -2. They are _objective_. The emotion aroused goes out to some object, -and is fixed upon that; we are always interested _in something_. The -active element of interest is precisely that which takes it out of the -inner mood itself and gives it a terminus, an end in an object. - -3. An interest is _satisfaction_. It is its own reward. It is not a -striving for something unrealized, or a mere condition of tension. -It is the satisfaction in some object which the mind already has. -This object may be possessed in some greater or less degree, in -full realization or in faint grasp, but interest attaches to it as -possessed. This differentiates it from desire, even where otherwise -the states are the same. Desire refers to the lack, to what is not -present to the mind. One state of mind may be called both interest in, -and desire for, knowledge, but desire emphasizes the unknown, while -interest is on account of the finding of self, of intelligence, in -the object. Interest is the union in feeling, through action, of self -and an object. An interest in life is had when a man can practically -identify himself with some object lying beyond his immediate or already -acquired self and thus be led to further expression of himself. - -To have an interest, then, is to be alert, to have an object, and to -find satisfaction in an activity which brings this object home to self. - - Not every interest carries with it _complete_ satisfaction. - But no interest can be wholly thwarted. The purer the - interest, the more the interest is in the object for its - own sake, and not for that of some ulterior consequence, - the more the interest fulfills itself. "It is better to - have loved and lost than never to have loved at all", and - love is simply the highest power of interest--interest - freed from all extrinsic stuff. - -Of the interests, two abstract forms may be recognized, interest in -persons and interest in things. And these may be subdivided: Interest -in persons: interest in _self_ and _others_. Interest in things--into -their contemplation (_knowledge_) and into their production (_art_). -And art again may be either productive of things to be contemplated -(fine art), or useful--manufactures, industry, etc. The moral end, -then, or the Good will consist in the exercise of these interests, -varied as they may be in each individual by the special turn which his -capacities and opportunities take. - - -XXXV. - -The Exercise of Interests as the Moral End. - -Let us now, as a means of rendering our conception of the moral end -more concrete, consider briefly each of the forms of interest. - -1. Interest in self. We must free ourselves from any notion that an -interest in self is non-moral, if not actually immoral. The latter -position is seldom consciously assumed, but it is not uncommon to -have interest in self, under the name of prudence, marked off from -the moral sphere. Interest in self, if the interest is pure, is just -as much an interest in the moral end as interest in anything or -anybody else. Interest in self may take the form of selfishness, or of -sentimentalism; but this is only an _impure_ interest, an interest not -in self, but in some consequences to which the self may be directed. -Interest in self may take many forms, according to the side of self -which is the object of attention, and according to the range of the -self taken into account. A _rudimentary_ form is prudence, but even -this, instead of being non-moral, is, in proper place and degree, -moral, as moral as benevolence; and, if not in its proper place, -immoral. From such an interest there are all stages up to the interest -in self as it most deeply and broadly is, the sense of honor, moral -dignity, self-respect, conscientiousness, that attempt to be and -to make the most of one's self, which is at the very root of moral -endeavor. - - The ground that is usually given for making the distinction - between Prudence, Self-Regard, Self-Love as non-moral, - and Benevolence, Altruism etc., as moral, is that in the - former case a mere regard for one's own advantage dictates - proper conduct, while in the latter case there must be a - positive virtuous intent. We may, for example, be pointed - to some cool calculating man who takes care of his health - and his property, who indeed is generally 'prudent', - because he sees that it is for his advantage, and be told - that while such an end is not immoral it is certainly not - moral. But in return it must be asked what is meant here by - advantage? If by it is meant private pleasure, or advantage - over somebody else, then this conduct does not spring - from interest in self at all, but from interest in some - exterior consequence, and as springing from such an impure - interest is not simply non-moral, but positively immoral. - On the other hand, if 'advantage' means regard for one's - whole function, one's place in the moral order, then such - interest in self is moral. Care for bodily health in the - interest of efficiency in conduct is supremely moral beside - reckless disregard of it in the interest of some supposed - higher or more spiritual function. - - If it is meant that conduct is immoral because it springs - from some interest on the part of the agent, the reply - is that all conduct must so arise, and that any other - supposition leads us immediately into asceticism and into - formalism. - -2. Interest in others. The generic form of interest in others is -sympathy, this being specified by the various forms of social -organization of which the individual is a member. A person is, we have -seen, one who can conceive of ends and can act to realize these ends. -Only a person, therefore, can conceive of others as ends, and so have -true sympathy. - - It is not meant, of course, that animals do not - perform acts which, _de facto_, are altruistic or even - self-sacrificing. What is meant is that the animal does - not act from the _idea_ of others of his kind as ends in - themselves. If the animal does so act, it cannot be denied - the name of person. - -True interest in others is pure, or disinterested, in the sense of -having no reference to some further and external consequence to one's -self. Interest in others need not be moral (or pure) any more than -interest in self is necessarily immoral (or impure). It is a mistake -to distinguish interest in self as _egoistic_ and interest in others -as _altruistic_. Genuine interests, whatever their object, are both -egoistic and altruistic. They are egoistic simply because they _are -interests_--imply satisfaction in a realized end. If man is truly -a social being, constituted by his relationships to others, then -social action must inevitably realize himself, and be, in that sense, -egoistic. And on the other hand, if the individual's interest in -himself is in himself _as_ a member of society, then such interest is -thoroughly altruistic. In fact, the very idea of altruism is likely to -carry a false impression when it is so much insisted upon, as it is -nowadays in popular literature, as the essence of morality. The term as -used seems to imply that the mere giving up of one's self to others, -as others, is somehow moral. Just as there may be an immoral interest -in self, so there may be an immoral 'altruism.' It is immoral in any -case to sacrifice the actual relationships in the case, those which -demand action, to some feeling outside themselves--as immoral when the -feeling to which the sacrifice is offered up is labelled 'benevolence', -as when it is termed 'greediness'. It is no excuse when a man gives -unwisely to a beggar that he feels benevolent. _Moral_ benevolence is -the feeling directed toward a certain end which is known to be the -fit or right end, the end which expresses the situation. The question -is as to the _aim_ in giving. Apart from this aim, the act is simply -relieving the agent's own feelings and has no moral quality. Rather -it is immoral; for feelings do have a moral _capacity_, that is, a -relation to ends of action, and hence to satisfy them on their account, -to deprive them of their practical reference, is bad. Aside from what -this illustrates, there is a tendency in the present emphasis of -altruism to erect the principle of charity, in a sense which implies -continued social inequality, and social slavery, or undue dependence -of one upon another, into a fundamental moral principle. It is well -to "do good" to others, but it is much better to do this by securing -for them the freedom which makes it possible for them to get along in -the future without such 'altruism' from others. There is what has been -well termed an "egotism of renunciation"; a desire to do for others -which, at bottom, is simply an attempt to regulate their conduct. Much -of altruism is an egoism of a larger radius, and its tendency is to -"manufacture a gigantic self", as in the case where a father sacrifices -everything for his children or a wife for her husband. - - See Caird, Op. cit., Vol. II, p. 402. See also Hinton, The - Law Breaker, p. 287: "The real meaning of the difficulty - about a word for "regard for others" is that we do not want - it. It would mislead us if we had it. It is not a regard - for _others_ that we need, but simply a _true_ regard, a - regard to the facts, to nature; it is only a truth to facts - in our regard, and its nature is obscured by a reference to - "others", as if that were the essential point.... It is not - as being for others, but as being _true_, that the regard - for others is demanded." - -Some ethical writers have gone to the other extreme and held that all -benevolence is a disguised or an enlightened selfishness, since having -a necessary reference to self. The reference to self must be admitted; -unless the action springs from an interest of the agent himself the act -may be outwardly useful, but cannot be moral. But the argument alluded -to inverts the true relation involved. If a man's interests are such -that he can find satisfaction only in the satisfaction of others, what -an absurdity to say that his acting from these interests is selfish! -The very fact of such identity of self with others in his interest is -the proof of his unselfishness. - - See Leslie Stephen, Science of Ethics, p. 241, for an - admirable discussion of this difficulty. When it is said - that your pain is painful to me, he says, the inference - is often "insinuated that I dislike your pain because - it is painful to me in some special relation. I do not - dislike it _as_ your pain, but in virtue of some particular - consequence, such, for example, as its making you less - able to render me a service. In that case _I do not really - object to your pain as your pain at all_, but only to some - removable and accidental consequences." (And see his whole - treatment of sympathy, pp. 230-245). The whole question is - shown to come to this: Is my interest in, my sympathy with, - your joy and sorrow as such, or in your joy and sorrow as - contributing to mine? If the latter, of course the interest - is selfish, not being an interest in others at all. But - if the former, then the fact that such sympathy involves - one's own satisfaction is the best proof that man is not - selfishly constructed. When Stephen goes on to say that - such sympathy does not involve the existence of a real - unity larger than the individual, he seems to me to misread - his own facts, probably because he conceives of this unity - as some abstract or external thing. - - Discussion regarding self-love and benevolence, or, in - modern phrase, egoism and altruism, has been rife in - English ethics since the time of Hobbes, and especially of - Shaftesbury and Butler. See, in particular, the Sermons - of the latter, which gave the central point of discussion - for almost a century. With reference to the special - weakness of this point of view, with its co-ordination - of two independent principles, see Green, Philosophical - Works, Vol. III, pp. 99-104. The essential lack (the lack - which we have tried to make good in the definition of - individuality as the union of capacity and surroundings - in function), was the failure to analyze the idea of the - individual. Individuality being defined as an exclusive - principle, the inevitable result was either (i.) the - "disguised selfishness" theory; or (ii.) the assumption of - two fundamentally different principles in man. The ordinary - distinction between prudence and virtue is an echo of the - latter theory. Then, finally, (iii.) a third principle, - generally called conscience by Butler, was brought in as - umpire in the conflict of prudence and virtue. - - Suggestive modern treatment of the matter, from a variety - of points of view, will be found in Spencer, Data of - Ethics, chs. XI-XIII; Stephen, Op. cit., ch. VI; Sidgwick, - Op. cit., Bk. V, ch. VII; Royce, Op. cit., ch. IV; Sorley, - Ethics of Naturalism, pp. 134-150; Alexander, Op. cit., pp. - 172-180; Caird, Op. cit., Vol. II, pp. 400-405; Paulsen, - System der Ethik, pp. 295-311. - -3. Interest in Science and Art. Man is interested in the world about -him; the knowledge of the nature and relations of this world become one -of his most absorbing pursuits. Man identifies himself with the meaning -of this world to the point that he can be satisfied only as he spells -out and reads its meaning. (See, for example, Browning's "Grammarian's -Funeral".) The scientific interest is no less a controlling motive -of man than the personal interest. This knowledge is not a means for -having agreeable sensations; it is not dilettanteism or "love of -culture"; it is interest in the large and goodly frame of things. And -so it is with art; man has interests which can be satisfied only in the -reconstruction of nature in the way of the useful and the beautiful. - - I have made no distinction between 'fine' and 'useful' art. - The discussion of this question does not belong here, but - the rigid separation of them in ęsthetic theory seems to me - to have no justification. Both are products of intelligence - in the service of interests, and the only difference is in - the range of intelligence and interests concerned. 'Use' - is a _limited_ service and hence implies an external end; - beauty is complete use or service, and hence not mere use - at all, but self-expression. Historically, all art which - has not been merely sentimental and 'literary' has sprung - from interest in good workmanship in the realizing of an - idea. - -It seems as if here interests violated their general law, and, in the -case of use at least, were an interest in some ulterior end. But it -may be questioned whether a carpenter whose aim was consciously beyond -the work he was doing, would be a good workman--and this whether the -further end is his own private advantage, or social benefit at large. -The thought of the further benefit to self and of the utility to accrue -to some one else, will, if it becomes a _part_ of what he is doing, -undoubtedly intensify his interest--it must do so, for it enlarges -its content. But to _identify_ one's own or another's well-being with -work, and to make the work a mere _means_ to this welfare, are two -quite different things. The good artisan "has his heart in his work". -His self-respect makes it necessary for him to respect this technical -or artistic capacity, and to do the best by it that he can without -scrimping or lowering. To a good business man business is not the mere -means to money-making; and it is sentimentalism (and hence immoral) to -demand that it be a mere means to the good of society. The business, if -it is a moral one (and _any_ business, _so far_ as it is thus carried -on, is moral), is carried on for the sake of the activity itself, as a -realizing of capacity in a specific situation. - - -XXXVI. - -The Moral Quality of Science. - -We seem, however, to meet here, in relation to science and art, a -difficulty which threatens our whole theory. Can it be claimed, it may -be asked, that devotion to science or art constitutes goodness in the -same sense that devotion to the interests of one's family or state -constitutes it? No one doubts that a good father or a good citizen is a -good man, in so far forth. Are we ready to say that a good chemist or -good carpenter, or good musician is, in so far, a good man? In a word, -is there not a reference to the good of persons present in one case and -absent in another, and does not its absence preclude the scientific and -artistic activities from any share, _as such_, in the moral end? - -It must be remembered that the moral end does not refer to some -consequence which happens, _de facto_, to be reached. It refers to an -end _willed_; _i.e._, to an idea held to and realized as an idea. And -this fact shows us the way to meet the query, in part at least. If, -when we say good carpenter, or good merchant, we are speaking from the -standpoint of results, independently of the idea conceived as end in -the mind of the agent; if we mean simply, 'we like what that man does', -then the term good has no moral value. A man may paint 'good' pictures -and not be, in so far, a good man, but in this sense a man may _do_ a -great deal of 'good', and yet not be a good man. It was agreed at the -outset that moral goodness pertains to the kind of idea or end which a -man clings to, and not to what he happens to effect visibly to others. - -If a scientific man pursues truth as a mere means to reputation, to -wealth, etc., we do not (or should not) hesitate to call him immoral. - - This does not mean that if he _thinks_ of the reputation, - or of wealth, he is immoral, for he may foresee wealth and - the reputation as necessarily bound up in what he is doing; - it may become a part of the end. It means that if knowledge - of truth is a _mere means_ to an end beyond it, the man is - immoral. - -What reason is there why we should not call him moral if he does his -work for its own sake, from interest in this cause which takes him -outside his "own miserable individuality", in Mill's phrase? After all, -the phrase a 'good father' means but a character manifesting itself in -certain relations, as is right according to these relations; the phrase -has moral significance not in itself, but with reference to the end -aimed at by character. And so it is with the phrase 'a good carpenter.' -That also means devotion of character to certain outer relations for -their own sake. These relations may not be so important, but that is -not lack of moral meaning. - - -XXXVII. - -Adjustment to Environment. - -So far we have been discussing the moral ideal in terms of its inner -side--capacity, interest. We shall now discuss it on its outer or -objective side--as 'adjustment to environment' in the phrase made -familiar by the evolutionists. Certain cautions, however, must be noted -in the use of the phrase. We must keep clearly in mind the relativity -of environment to inner capacity; that it exists only as one element of -function. Even a plant must do something more than adjust itself _to_ -a fixed environment; it must assert itself _against_ its surroundings, -subordinating them and transforming them into material and nutriment; -and, on the surface of things, it is evident that _transformation_ of -existing circumstances is moral duty rather than mere reproduction of -them. The environment must be plastic to the ends of the agent. - -But admitting that environment is made what it is by the powers -and aims of the agent, what sense shall we attribute to the term -adjustment? Not bare conformity to circumstances, nor bare external -reproduction of them, even when circumstances are taken in their proper -moral meaning. The child in the family who simply adjusts himself _to_ -his relationships in the family, may be living a moral life only in -outward seeming. The citizen of the state may transgress no laws of -the state, he may punctiliously fulfill every contract, and yet be a -selfish man. True adjustment must consist in _willing_ the maintenance -and development of moral surroundings as _one's own end_. The child -must take the spirit of the family into himself and live out this -spirit according to his special membership in the family. So a soldier -in the army, a friend in a mutual association, etc. Adjustment to -intellectual environment is not mere conformity of ideas to facts. It -is the living assimilation of these facts into one's own intellectual -life, and maintaining and asserting them as _truth_. - -There are environments existing prior to the activities of any -individual agent; the family, for example, is prior to the moral -activity of a child born into it, but the point is to see that -'adjustment', to have a moral sense, means _making the environment a -reality for one's self_. A true description of the case would say that -the child takes for his own end, ends already existing for the wills -of others. And, in making them his own, he creates and supports for -himself an environment that already exists for others. In such cases -there is no special transformation of the existing environment; there -is simply the process of making it the environment for one's self. So -in learning, the child simply appropriates to himself the intellectual -environment already in existence for others. But in the activity of -the man of science there is more than such personal reproduction and -creation; there is increase, or even reconstruction of the prior -environment. While the ordinary citizen hardly does more than make his -own the environment of ends and interests already sustained in the -wills of others, the moral reformer may remake the whole. But whether -one case or the other, adjustment is not outer conformity; it is living -realization of certain relations in and through the will of the agent. - - -XXXVIII. - -The Moral End is the Realization of a Community of Wills. - -Since the performance of function is, on the other side, the creation, -perpetuation, and further development of an environment, of relations -to the wills of others, its performance _is a common good_. It -satisfies others who participate in the environment. The member of the -family, of the state, etc., in exercising his function, contributes to -the whole of which he is a member by realizing its spirit in himself. -But the question discussed in section XXXVI recurs under another -aspect. Granting that the satisfying of personal interests realizes a -common good, what shall we say of the impersonal interests--interests -in science and art. Is the good carpenter or chemist not only in so -far a good man, but also a good social member? In other words, does -every form of moral activity realize a common good, or is the moral end -partly social, partly non-social? - - One objection sometimes brought to the doctrine that the - moral end is entirely social, may be now briefly dismissed. - This is the objection that a man has moral duties toward - _himself_. Certainly, but what of _himself_? If he is - essentially a social member, his duties toward himself have - a social basis and bearing. The only relevant question is - whether one is wholly a social member--whether scientific - and artistic activities may not be non-social. - -The ground here taken is that the moral end is wholly social. This -does not mean that science and art are means to some social welfare -beyond themselves. We have already stated that even the production of -utilities must, as moral, be its own end. The position then is that -intellectual and artistic interests _are themselves_ social, when -considered in the completeness of their relations--that interest in -the development of intelligence is, in and of itself, interest in the -well-being of society. - -Unless this be true there is no moral end at all, but only moral -ends. There is no comprehensive unity in life, but a number of ends -which, being irreducible to a common principle, must be combined on the -best principle of compromise available. We have no 'The Good', but an -aggregate of fragmentary ends. - - It helps nothing to say that this necessary unity is - found in the _self_ to be realized, unless we are pointed - to something in the self that unites the social and - non-social functions. Our objection is that the separation - of intellectual interests from social makes a chasm in the - self. - -For the same reason it follows that in the case of a collision of -social with intellectual ends--say the conflict of a man's interests as -a member of a family with his interests in new scientific discovery--no -reconciliation is possible. If the interests are forms of social -interest, there is a common end in both, on the basis of which the -conflict can be resolved. While such considerations do not prove that -there is but one end, and that social, they may well make us hesitate -about carelessly taking a position of which they are the logical -consequence. - -Of course, every one recognizes that a certain amount of scientific and -artistic interest is social in character. A certain amount of interest -in truth, or in intelligence, a certain amount of susceptibility to -beauty, a certain amount of devotion to utility, are universally -recognized to be necessary to make judicious, agreeable and efficient -social members. The whole system of modern education has meaning only -on this supposition. - -More than this: A certain amount of intelligence, and a certain amount -of susceptibility to embodied ideals, _must_ exist to give moral -conduct. A moral end is, as we have seen, always a _conception_, an -idea. The very act of bringing conduct out of the impulsive into the -moral sphere, depends upon the development of intelligence so as to -transform a feeling into the perception of a situation. And, as we -watch moral development from childhood to maturity, is it not evident -that progress consists in power to conceive of larger and better -defined ends? to analyze the situation which demands active response, -the function which needs exercise, into specific relations, instead of -taking it partially or even upon some one else's say so? Conduct, so -far as not based upon an intelligent recognition and realization of the -relationships involved, is either sentimental, or _merely_ habitual--in -the former case immoral, and in the latter failing of the complete -morality possible. - -If the necessary part played in conduct by artistic cultivation is not -so plain, it is largely because 'Art' has been made such an unreal -Fetich--a sort of superfine and extraneous polish to be acquired only -by specially cultivated people. In reality, living is itself the -supreme art; it requires fineness of touch; skill and thoroughness -of workmanship; susceptible response and delicate adjustment to a -situation apart from reflective analysis; instinctive perception of -the proper harmonies of act and act, of man and man. Active art is the -embodiment of ideals; the clothing of ideas otherwise abstract in their -peculiar and fit garb of concrete outward detail; passive art is the -quick and accurate response to such embodiments as are already made. -What were human conduct without the one and the other? - -Granting the necessity of knowledge and of its artistic application -in conduct, the question arises as to where the line is to be drawn. -Evidently, if anywhere, at specialisms, remote philosophic or -mathematical endeavors; life-times spent in inventive attempts without -appreciable outcome. But to draw the line is not easy. The remote of -one generation is the social tool of the next; the abstract mathematics -and physics of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries are the great -social forces of the nineteenth--the locomotive, the telegraph, -the telephone, etc. And how, in any case, can we tell a scientific -investigator that up to a certain experiment or calculation his work -may be social, beyond that, not? All that we can say is that beyond a -certain point its social character is not obvious to sense and that -the work must be carried on by faith. - -Thus it is that we dispose of objections like Bradley's (Ethical -Studies, p. 202): "Nothing is easier than to suppose a life of art or -speculation which, as far as we can see, though true to itself, has, so -far as others are concerned, been sheer waste or even loss, and which -knew that it was so." That we can not _see_ any social _result_ in such -cases has nothing to do with the question whether or not the interests -themselves are social. We may imagine a life of philanthropic activity, -say of devotion to emancipation of slaves in a country wholly given -over to slavery, or of a teacher in an unenlightened country, which, -as far as we can see, (though, in this case, as in the one referred -to by Mr. Bradley, everything depends upon how far we _can_ see) has -been sheer waste, so far as influence on others is concerned. The point -is whether in such cases the life lived is not one of devotion to the -interests of humanity as such. - - We have been trying to show that everyone admits that - science and art, up to a certain point, are social, and - that to draw a line where they cease to be so, is in - reality to draw a line where we cease to _see_ their social - character. That we should cease to _see_ it, is necessary - in the case of almost every advance. Just because the new - scientific movement is new, we can realize its social - effects only afterwards. But it may be questioned whether - the motive which actuates the man of science is not, when - fully realized, a _faith_ in the social bearing of what he - is doing. If we were to go into a metaphysical analysis, - the question would have to be raised whether a barely - intellectual fact or theory be not a pure abstraction--an - unreality if kept apart entirely from the activities of men - in relation to one another. - - -XXXIX. - -Science and Art as Necessary Factors of Social Welfare. - -Let us consider the problem on its other side. What kind of an interest -is our interest in persons, our distinctively social interest? Suppose -we attempt to separate our interests in truth, beauty, and use from -our interest in persons: _What remains in the persons to be interested -in?_ Is not a necessary part of out interest in persons, an interest in -them as beings fulfilling their respective intellectual and artistic -capacities; and if we cut this out of our social interest, have we -not maimed and stunted our interest in persons? We wish the fullest -life possible to ourselves and to others. And the fullest life means -largely a complete and free development of capacities in knowledge -and production--production of beauty and use. Our interest in others -is not satisfied as long as their intelligence is cramped, their -appreciation of truth feeble, their emotions hard and uncomprehensive, -their powers of production compressed. To will their true good is to -will the freeing of all such gifts to the highest degree. Shall we -say that their true good requires that they shall go to the point of -understanding algebra, but not quaternions, of understanding ordinary -mechanics, but not to working out an electro-magnetic theory of light? -to ability to appreciate ordinary chords and tunes, but not to the -attempt to make further developments in music? - -And this throws light upon the case referred to by Mr. Bradley. -_Social_ welfare demands that the individual be permitted to devote -himself to the fulfilling of _any_ scientific or artistic capacity that -he finds within himself--provided, of course, it does not conflict -with some more important capacity--irrespective of results. To say to -a man: You may devote yourself to this gift, provided you demonstrate -beforehand its social bearing, would be to talk nonsense. The new -discovery is not yet made. It is absolutely required by the interests -of a progressive society that it allow freedom to the individual to -develop such functions as he finds in himself, irrespective of any -_proved_ social effect. Here, as elsewhere, morality works by faith, -not by sight. - -Indeed the ordinary conception of social interests, of benevolence, -needs a large over-hauling. It is practically equivalent to doing -something directly for others--to one form or another of charity. -But this is only negative morality. A true social interest is that -which wills for others freedom from dependence on our _direct_ help, -which wills to them the self-directed power of exercising, in and by -themselves, their own functions. Any will short of this is not social -but selfish, willing the dependence of others that we may continue -benignly altruistic. The idea of "giving pleasure" to others, "making -others happy", if it means anything else than securing conditions so -that they may act freely in their own satisfaction, means slavery. - -As society advances, social interest must consist more and more in -free devotion to intelligence for its own sake, to science, art and -industry, and in rejoicing in the exercise of such freedom by others. -Meantime, it is truth which makes free. - - See Spencer, Data of Ethics, pp. 249-257, where this - doctrine is stated with great force. - -Where, finally, does the social character of science and art come -in? Just here: they are elements in the perfection of individuality, -and they are elements whose very nature is to be moving, not rigid; -distributed from one to another and not monopolistic possessions. If -there are forms of science and art which, at present, are static, being -merely owned collections of facts, as one may have a collection of -butterflies in a frame, or of etchings in a closed portfolio, this is -not because they are science and art, but imperfect science and art. -To complete their scientific and artistic character is to set these -facts in motion; to hurl them against the world of physical forces -till new instruments of man's activity are formed, and to set them in -circulation so that others may also participate in their truth and -rejoice in their beauty. So far as scientific or artistic attainments -are treasured as individual possessions, so far it _is_ true that -they are not social--but so far it is _also_ true that they are -immoral: indeed that they are not fully scientific or artistic, being -subordinated to having certain sensations. - -The intellectual movement of the last four or five centuries has -resulted in an infinite specialization in methods, and in an immense -accumulation of fact. It is quite true, since the diversity of fact -and of method has not yet been brought to an organic unity, that their -social bearing is not yet realized. But when the unity is attained (as -attained it must be if there is unity in the object of knowledge), it -will pass into a corresponding unity of practice. And then the question -as to the social character of even the most specialized knowledge will -seem absurd. It will be to ask whether men can coöperate better when -they do not know than when they do know what they want. Meantime the -intellectual confusion, and the resulting divorce of knowledge from -practice, exists. But this constitutes a part of the environment of -which action must take heed. It makes it one of the pressing duties -that every man of intelligence should do his part in bringing out the -public and common aspects of knowledge. _The_ duty of the present is -the socializing of intelligence--the realizing of its bearing upon -social practice. - - -XL. - -The Ethical Postulate. - -We have attempted to show that the various interests are social in -their very nature. We have not attempted to show that this can be -seen or proved in any given case. On the contrary, in most, if not -all cases, the agent acts from a faith that, in realizing his own -capacity, he will satisfy the needs of society. If he were asked to -_prove_ that his devotion to his function were right because certain to -promote social good, he might well reply: "That is none of my affair. -I have only to work myself out as strength and opportunity are given -me, and let the results take care of themselves. I did not make the -world, and if it turns out that devotion to the capacity which was -given me, and loyalty to the surroundings in which I find myself do -not result in good, I do not hold myself responsible. But, after all, -I cannot believe that it will so turn out. What is really good for me -_must_ turn out good for all, or else there is no good in the world -at all." The basis, in a word, of moral conduct, with respect to the -exercise of function, is a faith that moral self-satisfaction (that -is, satisfaction in accordance with the performance of function as -already defined) means social satisfaction--or the faith that self and -others make a true community. Now such faith or conviction is at the -basis of all moral conduct--not simply of the scientific or artistic. -Interest in self must mean belief in one's business, conviction of its -legitimacy and worth, even prior to any sensible demonstration. Under -any circumstances, such demonstration can extend only to past action; -the social efficiency of any new end must be a matter of faith. Where -such faith is wanting, action becomes halting and character weak. -Forcible action fails, and its place is taken by a feeble idealism, of -vague longing for that which is not, or by a pessimistic and fruitless -discontent with things as they are--leading, in either case, to -neglect of actual and pressing duty. The basis of moral strength is -_limitation_, the resolve to be one's self only, and to be loyal to the -actual powers and surroundings of that self. The saying of Carlyle's -about doing the "duty that lies nearest", and of Goethe's that "America -is here or nowhere", both imply that faith in the existing moral -capacity and environment is the basis of conduct. All fruitful and -sound human endeavor roots in the conviction that there is something -absolutely worth while, something 'divine' in the demands imposed by -one's actual situation and powers. In the great moral heroes of the -world the conviction of the worth of their destiny, and of what they -were meant to do, has amounted to a kind of fatalism. They have done -not simply what they _could_ do, but what they _must_ do. - -On the other hand, effective social interest is based upon what is -vaguely called 'faith in humanity', or, more specifically, belief -in the value of each man's individuality, belief in some particular -function which he might exercise, given appropriate conditions and -stimuli. Moral interest in others must be an interest in their -possibilities, rather than in their accomplishments; or, better, in -their accomplishments so far as these testify to a fulfilling of -function--to a working out of capacity. Sympathy and work for men which -do not grow out of faith in them are a perfunctory and unfertile sort -of thing. - -This faith is generally analyzed no further; it is left as faith in -one's 'calling' or in 'humanity'. But what is meant is just this: -in the performing of such special service as each is capable of, -there is to be found not only the satisfaction of self, but also -the satisfaction of the entire moral order, the furthering of the -community in which one lives. All moral conduct is based upon such a -faith; and _moral theory must recognize this as the postulate upon -which it rests_. In calling it a postulate, we do not mean that it is a -postulate which our theory makes or must make in order to be a theory; -but that, through analysis, theory _finds that moral practice makes -this postulate_, and that with its reality the reality end value of -conduct are bound up. - -In calling it a postulate we do not mean to call it unprovable, much -less unverifiable, for moral experience is itself, so far as it goes, -its verification. But we mean that the further consideration of this -postulate, its demonstration or (if the case so be) its refutation, -do not belong to the realm of ethics as such. Each branch of human -experience rests upon some presupposition which, _for that branch_, is -ultimate. The further inquiry into such presuppositions belong not to -mathematics, or physics, or ethics, but to metaphysics. - -Unless, then, we are to extend our ethical theory to inquire into the -possibility and value of moral experience, unless, that is, we are to -make an excursion into the metaphysics of ethics, we have here reached -our foundation. The ethical postulate, the presupposition involved in -conduct, is this: - -IN THE REALIZATION OF INDIVIDUALITY THERE IS FOUND ALSO THE NEEDED -REALIZATION OF SOME COMMUNITY OF PERSONS OF WHICH THE INDIVIDUAL IS A -MEMBER; AND, CONVERSELY, THE AGENT WHO DULY SATISFIES THE COMMUNITY IN -WHICH HE SHARES, BY THAT SAME CONDUCT SATISFIES HIMSELF. - -Otherwise put, the postulate is that there is a community of persons; a -good which realized by the will of one is made not private but public. -It is this unity of individuals as respects the end of action, this -existence of a practical common good, that makes what we call the moral -order of the world. - - Shakespeare has stated the postulate-- - - To thine ownself be true; - And it must follow, as the night the day, - Thou can'st not then be false to any man. - -Its significance may be further developed by comparing it with the -scientific postulate. - -All science rests upon the conviction of the thorough-going and -permanent unity of the world of objects known--a unity which is -sometimes termed the 'uniformity of nature' or the 'reign of law'; -without this conviction that objects are not mere isolated and -transitory appearances, but are connected together in a system by laws -or relations, science would be an impossibility. Moral experience -_makes for the world of practice_ an assumption analogous in kind to -that which intellectual experience makes for the world of knowledge. -And just as it is not the affair of science, as such, or even of logic -(the theory of science) to justify this presupposition of science, or -to do more than show its presence in intellectual experience, so it is -not the business of conduct, or even of ethics (the theory of conduct) -to justify what we have termed the 'ethical postulate'. In each case -the further inquiry belongs to metaphysics. - - -XLI. - -Does the End Proposed Serve as a Criterion of Conduct? - -We have now concluded that an end which may be termed indifferently -'The Realization of Individuality', 'The Performance of Specific -Functions', 'The Satisfaction of Interests', 'The Realization of a -Community of Individuals' is the moral end. Will this end serve the -two aims (see Sec. XVI) required of a criterion, or standard: (1) Will -it unify individual conduct? (2) Will it afford a common good? We have -just been endeavoring to show that it does both of these things; that -as the realization of one's specific capacity, it unifies individual -conduct, and that, as the performance of function, it serves to satisfy -the entire community. To take up just these points, accordingly, would -involve a repetition of what has been said, and we shall therefore take -up instead some aspects of the individual and social unity of conduct, -not already considered. - -1. The System of Individual Conduct. We must be careful not to -interpret the idea of specific function too rigidly or abstractly. It -does not mean that each one has some supreme mission in life to which -everything else must be sacrificed--that a man is to be an artist, -or a soldier, or a student, or a day-laborer and nothing else. On -the contrary, the idea of function is that which comprehends all the -various sides of life, and it cannot be narrowed below the meaning we -have already given: the due adjustment of capacity and surroundings. -Wherever there is any capacity or any circumstance, no matter how -trivial, there is something included in the exercise of function, -and, therefore to be satisfied--according to its place, of course, -in the whole of life. Amusements and all the minor details of life -are included within the scope of morality. They are elements in the -exercise of function, and their insignificance and triviality does not -exclude them from the grasp of duty and of the good. It is a mistake to -suppose that because it is optional or indifferent--as it constantly -is--what acts among the minor details of life are to be done or left -undone, or unimportant whether they are done or left undone at all, -therefore such acts have no moral value. Morality consists in treating -them just as they are--if they are slight or trivial they are to be -performed as slight and trivial. Morality does not simply permit the -performance of such acts, but demands it. To try to make, in the -interests of duty, a serious matter out of every detail of life would -be immoral--as much so, in kind, as to make light of momentous matters. - - See Alexander, Op. cit. pp. 53-54. - - Bradley, Op. cit., pp, 194-197. - -Consider, also, how this conception of the end stands in definite -relation to concrete acts; how it explains the possibility of decision -as to whether this or that proposed act is right. We do not have to -trace the connection of the act with some end beyond, as pleasure, or -abstract law. We have only to analyze the _act itself_. We have certain -definite and wholly concrete facts; the given capacity of the person at -the given moment, and his given surroundings. The judgment as to the -nature of these facts is, in and of itself, a judgment as to the act -to be done. The question is not: What is the probability that this act -will result in the balance of maximum pleasure; it is not what general -rule can we hunt up under which to bring this case. It is simply: -_What is this case?_ The moral act is not that which satisfies some -far-away principle, hedonistic or transcendental. It is that which -meets the present, actual situation. Difficulties indeed, arise, but -they are simply the difficulty of resolving a complex case; they are -intellectual, not moral. The case made out, the moral end stands forth. -No extraneous manipulation, to bring the case under some foreign end, -is required. - -And this suggests the elasticity of the criterion. In fact moral -conduct is entirely individualized. It is where, when, how and of whom. -There has been much useless discussion as to the absolute or relative -character of morals--useless because the terms absolute and relative -are not defined. If absolute is taken to mean immobile and rigid, it is -anything but desirable that morals should be absolute. If the physical -world is a scene of movement, in which there is no rest, it is a poor -compliment to pay the moral world to conceive of it as static and -lifeless. A rigid criterion in a world of developing social relations -would speedily prove no criterion at all. It would be an abstract -rule, taking no account of the individualized character of each act; -its individuality of capacity and of surroundings, of time, place and -relationships involved. A truly absolute criterion is one which adjusts -itself to each case according to the specific nature of the case; one -which moves with the moving world. On the other hand, if relative means -uncertain in application, changing in time and place without reason for -change in the facts themselves, then certainly the criterion is not -relative. If it means taking note of all concrete relations involved, -it _is_ relative. The absoluteness, in fine, of the standard of action -consists not in some rigid statement, but in never-failing application. -Universality here, as elsewhere, resides not in a thing, but in a way, -a method of action. The absolute standard is the one applicable to all -deeds, and the conception of the exercise of function is thus absolute, -covering all conduct from the mainly impulsive action of the savage to -the most complex reaches of modern life. - - Aristotle's well known theory of the 'mean' seems to have - its bearing here. "It is possible," he says (Peters' trans. - of Ethics, p. 46), "to feel fear, confidence, desire, - anger, pity, and generally to be affected pleasantly - and painfully, either too much or too little--in either - case wrongfully; but to be affected thus at the right - _times_, and on the right _occasions_, and toward the - right _persons_, and with the right _object_ and in the - right _fashions_, is the mean course and the best course, - and these are characteristics of virtue." The right time, - occasion, person, purpose and fashion--what is it but the - complete individualization of conduct in order to meet - the whole demands of the whole situation, instead of some - abstraction? And what else do we mean by fit, due, proper, - right action, but that which just hits the mark, without - falling short or deflecting, and, to mix the metaphor, - without slopping over? - -2. The system of social conduct, or common good. Moral conduct springs -from the faith that all right action is social and its purpose is -to justify this faith by working out the social values involved. The -term 'moral community' can mean only a unity of action, made what it -is by the co-operating activities of diverse individuals. There is -unity in the work of a factory, not in spite of, but _because of_ the -division of labor. Each workman forms the unity not by doing the same -that everybody else does, or by trying to do the whole, but by doing -his specific part. The unity is the one activity which their varied -activities make. And so it is with the moral activity of society and -the activities of individuals. The more individualized the functions, -the more perfect the unity. (See section LII.) - -The exercise of function by an agent serves, then, both to define and -to unite him. It makes him a _distinct_ social member at the same time -that it makes him a _member_. Possession of peculiar capacities, and -special surroundings mark one person off from another and make him -an individual; and the due adjustment of capacities to surroundings -(in the exercise of function) effects, therefore, the realization of -individuality--the realization of what we specifically are as distinct -from others. At the same time, this distinction is not isolation; -the exercise of function is the performing of a special _service_ -without which the social whole is defective. Individuality means -not separation, but defined position in a whole; special aptitude in -constituting the whole. - -We are now in a position to take up the consideration of the two other -fundamental ethical conceptions--obligation and freedom. These ideas -answer respectively to the two sides of the exercise of function. On -the one hand, the performing of a function realizes the social whole. -Man is thus 'bound' by the relations necessary to constitute this -whole. He is subject to the conditions which the existence and growth -of the social unity impose. He is, in a word, under _obligation_; the -performance of his function is duty owed to the community of which he -is a member. - -But on the other hand, activity in the way of function realizes the -individual; it is what makes him an individual, or distinct person. -In the performance of his own function the agent satisfies his own -interests and gains power. In it is found his _freedom_. - -Obligation thus corresponds to the _social_ satisfaction, freedom to -the _self_-satisfaction, involved in the exercise of function; and -they can no more be separated from each other than the correlative -satisfaction can be. One has to realize himself as a member of a -community. In this fact are found both freedom and duty. - - - - -CHAPTER II.--THE IDEA OF OBLIGATION. - - -XLII. - -Theories Regarding Moral Authority. - -The idea of obligation or duty has two sides. There is the idea of law, -of something which controls conduct, and there is the _consciousness_ -of the necessity of conforming to this law. There is, of course, -no separation between the two sides, but the consideration of the -latter side--the recognition of obligation--may be best dealt with -in discussing conscience. Here we shall deal simply with the fact -that there is such a thing in conduct as law controlling action, and -constituting obligation. Theories regarding obligation may, for our -purposes, be subdivided into those which make its exercise restraint -or coercion (and which therefore hold that in perfect moral conduct, -duty as such disappears); and those which hold that obligation is a -normal element in conduct as such, and that it is not, essentially, but -only under certain circumstances, coercive. Of the former type, some -theories (mainly the hedonistic) regard the restraint as originally -imposed from without upon the desires of the individual, while others -(as the Kantian) regard it as imposed by man's reason upon his desires -and inclinations. - - -XLIII. - -Bain's Theory of Obligation. - -It is obvious that the question of obligation presents considerable -difficulty to the hedonistic school. If the end of conduct is pleasure, -as the satisfaction of desire, why should not each desire be satisfied, -if possible, as it arises, and thus pleasure secured? What meaning -is there in the term 'duty' or 'obligation' if the moral end or good -coincides wholly with the natural end of the inclinations themselves? -It is evident, at all events, that the term can have significance -only if there is some cause preventing the desires as they arise from -natural satisfaction. The problem of obligation in hedonism thus -becomes the problem of discovering that outside force which restrains, -or, at least, constrains, the desire from immediate gratification. -According to Bain, this outside force is social disapprobation -manifested through the form of punishment. - - "I consider that the proper meaning, or import of the terms - [duty, obligation] refers to that class of action which is - enforced by the sanction of punishment.... The powers that - impose the obligatory sanction are Law and Society, or the - community acting through the Government by public judicial - acts, and apart from the Government by the unofficial - expressions of disapprobation and the exclusion from social - good offices". Emotions and Will, p. 286. See also pp. - 321-323 and p. 527. - -Through this 'actual and ideal avoidance of certain acts and dread -of punishment' the individual learns to forego the gratification of -some of his natural impulses, and learns also to cultivate and even to -originate desires not at first spontaneous. "The child is open from the -first to the blame and praise of others, and thus is led to do or avoid -certain acts". - -On the model, however, of the action of this external authority -there grows up, in time an internal authority--"an ideal resemblance -of public authority" (p. 287), or "a _fac simile_ of the system of -government around us" (p. 313). - - "The sentiment, at first formed and cultivated by the - relations of actual command and obedience, may come at last - to stand upon an independent foundation.... When the young - mind, accustomed at the outset to implicitly obeying any - set of rules is sufficiently advanced to appreciate the - motive--the utilities or the sentiment that led to their - imposition--the character of the conscience is entirely - changed.... Regard is now had to the intent and meaning of - the law, and not to the mere fact of its being prescribed - by some power" (E. and W., p. 318). - - But when the sense of obligation becomes entirely detached - from the social sanction, "even then the notion, sentiment - or form of duty is derived from what society imposes, - although the particular matter is quite different. Social - obligation develops in the mind originally the feeling - and habit of obligation, and this remains although the - particular articles are changed" (page 319, note). _Cf._ - also Bain, Moral Science, pp. 20-21 and 41-43. - - -XLIV. - -Spencer's Theory of Obligation. - -Spencer's theory is, in substance, an enlarged and better analyzed -restatement of Bain's theory. Bain nowhere clearly states in what the -essence of obligation consists, when it becomes independent, when the -internal _fac simile_ is formed. _Why_ should I not gratify my desires -as I please in case social pressure is absent or lets up? Spencer -supplies the missing element. According to him, "the essential trait in -the moral consciousness is the control of some feeling or feelings by -some other feeling or feelings" (Data of Ethics, p. 113). The kind of -feeling which controls is that which is more complex and which relates -to more remote ends; or, we are 'obliged' to give up more immediate, -special and direct pleasures for the sake of securing more general, -remote and indirect ones. Obligation, in its essence, is the surrender -or subordination of present to future satisfaction. This control, -restraint, or suppression may be 'independent' or, self-imposed, -but is not so at first, either in the man or in the child. Prior to -self-restraint are the restraints imposed by the "visible ruler, the -invisible ruler and society at large"--the policeman, the priest and -public opinion. The man is induced to postpone immediate gratification -through his fear of others, especially of the chief, of the dead and -of social displeasure--"legal penalty, supernatural punishment and -social reprobation". Thus there grows up the sense of obligation. -This refers at first only to the above-mentioned extrinsic effects of -action. But finally the mind learns to consider the intrinsic effect -of the action itself--the evil inflicted by the evil deed, and then -the sense of duty, or coercion, evolved through the aforesaid external -agencies, becomes transferred to this new mode of controlling action. -Desires are now controlled through considerations of what their _own_ -effects would be, were the desires acted upon. - -It follows "that the sense of duty or moral obligation is transitory, -and will diminish as fast as moralization increases" (page 127). -Even when compulsion is self-imposed, there is still compulsion, -coercion, and this must be done away with. It _is_ done away with as -far as an act which is at first done only for the sake of its own -remoter consequences comes to be done for its own sake. And this will -ultimately occur, if the act is continued, since "persistence in -performing a duty ends in making it a pleasure". - - See Guyau, La Morale Anglaise Contemporaine, besides the - works of Bain and Spencer. In addition to objections - which will forthwith be made, we may here note a - false abstraction of Spencer's. He makes the act and - its consequences _two_ things, while the act and its - consequences (provided they are known as such) are the - same thing, no matter whether consequences are near or - remote. The only distinction is that consequences once - not known as such at all are seen in time to be really - consequences, and thus to be part of the content of the - act. The transfer from the "external consequences" imposed - by the ruler, priest and public-opinion to the intrinsic - consequences of the act itself, is thus a transfer from an - immoral to a moral basis. This is very different from a - change of the form of obligation itself. - - -XLV. - -Criticism of these Theories. - -Putting aside the consideration of the relation of desire to duty, (the -question whether duty is essentially coercive) until after we have -taken up the Kantian idea of obligation, we may note the following -objections to the theories just stated. Their great defect is that -they do not give us any method of differentiating moral coercion (or -obligation) from the action of mere superior physical force. Taking it -(first) upon the side of the individual: Is there any reason _why_ the -individual submits to the external authority of government except that -he _has_ to do so? He may argue that, since others possess superior -force, he will avoid certain pains by conforming to their demands, -but such yielding, whether temporary or permanent, to superior force -is very far from being a recognition that one _ought_ to act as the -superior force dictates. The theories must logically commit us to the -doctrine that 'might makes right' in its baldest form. Every one knows -that, when the individual surrenders the natural gratifications of his -desires to the command of others, if his sole reason is the superior -force of the commanding party, he does not forego in the surrender his -right to such gratification the moment he has the chance to get it. -Actual slavery would be the model school of duties, if these theories -were true. - -The facts adduced by Bain and Spencer--the growth of the recognition -of duties in the child through the authority of the parents, and in -the savage through the use of authority by the chief--are real enough, -but what they prove is that obligation may be brought home to one by -force, not that force creates obligation. The child and the man yield -to force in such a way that their sense of duty is developed only in -case they recognize, implicitly, the force or the authority as already -_right_. Let it be recognized that _rightful_ force (as distinct from -mere brute strength) resides in certain social authorities, and these -social authorities may do much, beyond the shadow of doubt, to give -effect to the special deeds and relations which are to be considered -obligatory. These theories, in fine, take the fact of obligation for -granted, and, at most, only show the historical process by which its -fuller recognition is brought about. Force in the service of right is -one thing; force as constituting and creating right is another. - -And this is to say (secondly), considering the matter from the side -of society, that the theories of Bain and Spencer do not explain -why or how social authority should exercise coercive force over the -individual. If it is implied that they do so in the moral interests -of the individual or of the community, this takes it for granted -that there already is in existence a moral ideal obligatory upon the -individual. If it is implied that they exercise coercive force in -the interests of their own private pleasure, this might establish a -despotism, or lead to a political revolt, but it is difficult to see -how it could create the fact of duty. When we consider any concrete -case, we see that society, in its compelling of the individual, is -possessed of moral ideals; and that it conceives itself not merely -as having the _power_ to make the individual conform to them, nor as -having the _right_ merely; but as under the bounden _duty_ of bringing -home to the individual _his_ duties. The social authorities do not, -perforce, create morality, but they embody and make effective the -existing morality. It is only just because the actions which they -impose are thought of as _good_, good for others as for themselves, -that this imposition is taken out of the realm of tyranny into that of -duty (see Sec. XXXVIII). - - -XLVI. - -The Kantian Theory of Obligation. - -As we have seen, Kant takes the conception of duty as the primary -ethical notion, superior to that of the good, and places it in the -most abrupt opposition to desire. The relation of duty to desire is -not control of some feelings by others, but rather suppression of all -desire (not in itself, but as a _motive_ of action) in favor of the -consciousness of law universal. We have, on one side, according to -Kant, the desire and inclination, which are sensuous and pathological. -These constitute man's 'lower nature'. On the other side there is -Reason, which is essentially universal, above all caprice and all -prostitution to private pleasure. This Reason, or 'higher nature', -imposes a law upon the sentient being of man, a law which takes the -form of a command (the 'Categorical Imperative'). This relation of a -higher rational nature issuing commands to a lower sensuous nature -(both within man himself), is the very essence of duty. If man were -wholly a sentient being, he would have only to follow his natural -impulses, like the animals. If he were only a rational being, he -would necessarily obey his reason, and there would still be no talk -of obligation. But because of the dualism, because of the absolute -opposition between Reason and Desire, man is a being subject to -obligation. Reason says to the desires "Thou shalt" or "Thou shalt -not". Yet this obligation is not externally imposed; the man as -rational imposes it upon himself as sensuous. Thus Kant says that, in -the realm of morality, man is both sovereign and subject. - - The reflex influence of Rousseau's social theories upon - Kant's moral doctrines in this respect is worthy of more - attention than it usually receives. Kant's moral theory is - hardly more than a translation of Rousseau's politics into - ethical terms, through its union with Kant's previously - established dualism of reason and sense. - - -XLVII. - -Criticism of the Kantian Theory. - -1. No one can deny that a genuine opposition exists between the -'natural' desires and moral activity. The being that satisfies each -desire or appetite as it arises, without reference of it to, or -control of it by, some principle, has not had the horizon of conduct -lift before him. But Kant makes the satisfaction of desire _as such_ -(not of this or that desire) antagonistic to action from duty. Kant -was forced into this position by his fundamental division of sense -from reason, but it carries with it its own condemnation and thus -that of the premises from which it is derived. It comes to saying -that the actual desires and appetites are not what they ought to be. -This, in itself, is true enough. But when Kant goes on to say, as he -virtually does, that what ought to be _cannot_ be, that the desires as -such cannot be brought into harmony with principle, he has made the -moral life not only a riddle, but a riddle with no answer. If mankind -were once convinced that the moral ideal were something which ought -to be but which could not be, we may easily imagine how much longer -moral endeavor would continue. The first or immediate stimulus to -moral effort is the conviction that the desires and appetites are not -what they should be; the underlying and continuing stimulus is the -conviction that the expression of desires in harmony with law is the -sole abiding good of man. To reconcile the two is the very meaning -of the moral struggle (see Sec. LXIV). Strictly, according to Kant, -morality would either leave the appetites untouched or would abolish -them--in either case destroying morality. - - See Caird, Op. cit., Vol. II, pp. 226-28. - -2. Kant again seems to be on the right track in declaring that -obligation is not anything externally imposed, but is the law of man's -being, self-imposed. This principle of 'autonomy' is the only escape -from a theory of obligation which would make obligation external, and -regard for it slavish fear, or servile hope of reward. To regard even -a Divine Being as the author of obligation is to make it a form of -external constraint, appealing only to hope or fear, unless this Divine -Being is shown to be organically connected with self. - -But this abstract universal reason which somehow dwells, without -mediation or reason, in each individual, seems to be somewhat -scholastic, a trifle mythological. There is undoubtedly in man's -experience a function which corresponds to what Kant is aiming, thus -mythologically, to describe. But it is one thing to recognize an -opposition of a desire, in its isolation, to desire as organic to the -function of the whole man; it is another to split man into a blank -dualism of an abstract reason, on one side, having no antecedents or -bearings, and of a mess of appetites, having only animal relationship, -on the other. The truth that Kant is aiming to preserve seems to be -fairly stated as two-fold: first, that duty is self-imposed, and -thus the dutiful will autonomous or free; and, second, the presence -of struggle in man between a 'lower' and a 'higher'. The first point -seems to be sufficiently met by the idea already advanced that self, -or individuality, is essentially social, being constituted not by -isolated capacity, but by capacity acting in response to the needs -of an environment--an environment which, when taken in its fullness, -is a community of persons. Any law imposed by such a self would be -'universal', but this universality would not be an isolated possession -of the individual; it would be another name for the concrete social -relationships which make the individual what he is, as a social member -or organ. Furthermore, such a universal law would not be formal, but -would have a content--these same relationships. - -The second point seems to be met by recognizing that in the realization -of the law of social function, conflict must occur between the desire -as an immediate and direct expression of the individual--the desire in -its isolation--and desire as an expression of the whole man; desire, -that is, as wholly conformable to the needs of the surroundings. Such -a conflict is real enough, as everyone's experience will testify, but -it is a conflict which may be solved--which must be solved so far as -morality is attained. And since it is a conflict within desire itself, -its solution or morality, does not require any impossible obliteration -of desire, nor any acting from an 'ought' which has no relation to -what 'is'. This, indeed, is _the_ failure of the Kantian Ethics: in -separating what should be from what is, it deprives the latter, the -existing social world as well as the desires of the individual, of all -moral value; while, by the same separation, it condemns that which -should be to a barren abstraction. An 'ought' which does not root in -and flower from the 'is', which is not the fuller realization of the -actual state of social relationships, is a mere pious wish that things -should be better. And morality, that is, right action, is not so feeble -as this would come to. - - -XLVIII. - -The Source and Nature of Obligation. - -The basis of a correct theory of obligation lies, as already stated, -in holding fast to its concrete relations to the moral end, or good. -This end consists in an activity in which capacity is exercised in -accordance with surroundings, with the social needs which affect the -individual. It is implied in this very idea, that the end is not -something which the individual may set up at his own arbitrary will. -The social needs give control, law, authority. The individual may not -manifest his capacity, satisfy his desires, apart from their specific -relation to the environment in which they exist. The general fact of -obligation which is constituted through this control of capacity by the -wider function is, of course, differentiated into specific 'laws' or -duties by the various forms which the one function takes, as capacity -and circumstances vary. - -In other words, obligation or duty is simply the aspect which the good -or the moral end assumes, as the individual conceives of it. From -the very fact that the end is the good, and yet is not realized by -the individual, it presents itself to him as that which _should be -realized_--as the ideal of action. It requires no further argument -to show that obligation is at once self-imposed, and social in its -content. It is self-imposed because it flows from the good, from the -idea of the full activity of the individual's own will. It is no law -imposed from without; but is his own law, the law of his own function, -of his individuality. Its social content flows from the fact that this -individuality is not mere capacity, but is this capacity _acting_, and -acting so as to comprehend social relationships. - -Suppose that man's good and his conviction of duty were divorced -from one another--that man's duty were other than to fulfill his -own specific function. Such a thing would make duty purely formal; -the moral law would have no intrinsic relation to daily conduct, to -the expression of man's powers and wants. There have, indeed, been -moralists who think they do the Lord service, who think they add to -the dignity and sacredness of Duty by making it other than the idea -of the activity of man, regulated indeed, but regulated only by its -own principle of activity. But such moralists in their desire to -consecrate the idea of duty remove from it all content, and leave it -an empty abstraction. On the other hand, their eagerness to give -absoluteness and imperativeness to duty by making it a law other -than that of the normal expression of man, casts discredit upon the -one moral reality--the full, free play of human life. In denying -that duty is simply the _intrinsic_ law, the _self_-manifestation -of this life, they make this life immoral, or at least non-moral. -They degrade it to a bundle of appetites and powers having no moral -value until the outside moral law is applied to them. In reality, the -dignity and imperativeness of duty are simply the manifest dignity and -unconditioned worth of human life as exhibited in its free activity. -The whole idea of the separateness of duty from the concrete flow of -human action is a virulent example of the fallacy mentioned in an early -section--the fallacy that moral action means something more than action -itself (see Sec. II). - -The attempt to act upon a theory of the divorce of satisfaction and -duty, to carry it out in practice, means the maiming of desire through -distrust of its moral significance, and thus, by withdrawing the -impetus of action, the reduction of life to mere passivity. So far as -this does not happen, it means the erection of the struggle itself, the -erection of the opposition of law to desire, into the very principle of -the moral life. The essential principle of the moral life, that good -consists in the freeing of impulse, of appetite, of desire, of power, -by enabling them to flow in the channel of a unified and full end is -lost sight of, and the free service of the spirit is reduced to the -slavish fear of a bond-man under a hard taskmaster. - -The essential point in the analysis of moral law, or obligation, having -been found, we may briefly discuss some subsidiary points. - -1. The relation of duty to a given desire. As any desire arises, -it will be, except so far as character has already been moralized, -a demand for its own satisfaction; the desire, in a word, will be -isolated. In so far, duty will be in a negative attitude towards the -desire; it will insist first upon its limitation, and then upon its -transformation. So far as it is merely limitative, it demands the -denying of the desire, and so far assumes a coercive form. But this -limitation is not for its own sake, but for that of the transformation -of desire into a freer and more adequate form--into a form, that is, -where it will carry with it, when it passes into action, _more of -activity_, than the original desire would have done. - -Does duty itself disappear when its constraint disappears? On the -contrary, so far as an act is done unwillingly, under constraint, -so far the act is impure, and _undutiful_. The very fact that there -is need of constraint shows that the self is divided; that there is -a two-fold interest and purpose--one in the law of the activity -according to function, the other in the special end of the particular -desire. Let the act be done _wholly as duty_, and it is done wholly for -its own sake; love, passion take the place of constraint. This suggests: - -2. Duty for duty's sake. - -It is clear that such an expression states a real moral fact; unless a -duty is done _as_ duty it is not done morally. An act may be outwardly -just what morality demands, and yet if done for the sake of some -private advantage it is not counted moral. As Kant expresses it, an -act must be done not only in accordance with duty, but _from duty_. -This truth, however, is misinterpreted when it is taken to mean that -the act is to be done for the sake of duty, and duty is conceived as -a third thing outside the act itself. Such a theory contradicts the -true sense of the phrase 'duty for duty's sake', for it makes the act -done not for its own sake, but as a mere means to an abstract law -beyond itself. 'Do the right because it is the right' means do the -right _thing_ because it _is_ the right thing; that is, do the act -disinterestedly from interest in the act itself. A duty is always some -act or line of action, not a third thing outside the act to which it -is to conform. In short, duty means _the act which is to be done_, and -'duty for duty's sake' means do the required act as it really is; do -not degrade it into a means for some ulterior end. This is as true -in practice as in theory. A man who does his duty not for the sake of -the acts themselves, but for the sake of some abstract 'ideal' which -he christens duty in general, will have a morality at once hard and -barren, and weak and sentimental. - -3. The agency of moral authority in prescribing moral law and -stimulating to moral conduct. - -The facts, relied upon by Bain and Spencer, as to the part played -by social influences in imposing duties, are undeniable. The facts, -however, are unaccountable upon the theory of these writers, as that -theory would, as we have seen, explain only the influence of society -in producing acts done from fear or for hope of reward. But if the -individual and others are equally members of one society, if the -performance by each man of his own function constitutes a good common -to all, it is inevitable that social authorities should be an influence -in constituting and teaching duties. The community, in imposing its -own needs and demands upon the individual, is simply arousing him to -a knowledge of his relationships in life, to a knowledge of the moral -environment in which he lives, and of the acts which he must perform if -he is to realize his individuality. The community in awakening moral -consciousness in the morally immature may appeal to motives of hope -and fear. But even this fact does not mean that to the child, duty -is necessarily constituted by fear of punishment or hope of reward. -It means simply that his capacity and his surroundings are both so -undeveloped that the exercise of his function takes mainly the form of -pleasing others. He may still do his duty _as_ his duty, but his duty -now consists in pleasing others. - - On Obligation see Green, Op. cit., pp. 352-356; Alexander, - Op. cit., pp. 142-147. For different views, Martineau, - Op. cit., Vol. II, pp. 92-119; Calderwood, Op. cit., pp. - 131-138, and see also, Grote, Treatise on Moral Ideals, ch. - VII. - - - - -CHAPTER III.--THE IDEA OF FREEDOM. - - -XLIX. - -The Forms of Freedom. - -We may now deal, more briefly, with the problem of moral capacity. It -is, in principle, the ability to conceive of an end and to be governed -in action by this conceived end. We may consider this capacity in three -aspects, as negative, as potential and as positive. - -1. _Negative Aspect of Freedom._ The power to be governed in action by -the thought of some end to be reached is freedom _from_ the appetites -and desires. An animal which does not have the power of proposing ends -to itself is impelled to action by its wants and appetites just as they -come into consciousness. It is _irritated_ into acting. Each impulse -demands its own satisfaction, and the animal is helpless to rise above -the particular want. But a _person_, one who can direct his action -by conscious ends, is emancipated from subjection to the particular -appetites. He can consider their relation to the end which he has set -before himself, and can reject, modify or use them as best agrees with -the purposed end. This capacity to control and subjugate impulses by -reflection upon their relationship to a rational end is the power of -self-government, and the more distinct and the more comprehensive in -scope the end is, the more real the self-government. - -2. _Potential Freedom._ The power to conceive of ends involves the -possibility of thinking of many and various ends, and even of ends -which are contrary to one another. If an agent could conceive of but -one end in some case, it would always seem to him afterwards that he -had been necessitated to act in the direction of that end; but the -power to put various ends before self constitutes "freedom of choice", -or potential freedom. After action, the agent calls to mind that there -was another end open to him, and that if he did not choose the other -end, it was because of something in his character which made him prefer -the one he actually chose. - - -L. - -Moral Responsibility. - -Here we have the basis of moral _responsibility_ or _accountability_. -There is no responsibility for any result which is not intended or -foreseen. Such a consequence is only physical, not moral. (Sec. VII). -But when any result has been foreseen, and adopted as foreseen, such -result is the outcome not of any external circumstances, nor of mere -desires and impulses, but of the agent's conception of his own end. -Now, because the result thus flows from the agent's own conception of -an end, he feels himself responsible for it. - -It must be remembered that the end adopted is that which is conceived -_as satisfying self_--that, indeed, when we say end of action, we mean -only some proposed form of self-satisfaction. The adopted end always -indicates, therefore, that sort of condition which the agent considers -to be good, or self-satisfactory. It is because a result flows from the -agent's _ideal of himself_, the thought of himself which he considers -desirable or worth realizing, that the agent feels himself responsible. -The result is simply an expression of himself; a manifestation of what -he would have himself be. Responsibility is thus one aspect of the -identity of character and conduct. (Sec. VII). We are responsible for -our conduct because that conduct is ourselves objectified in actions. - -The idea of responsibility is intensified whenever there have been two -contrary lines of conduct conceived, of which one has been chosen. If -the end adopted turns out not to be satisfactory, but, rather, unworthy -and degrading, the agent feels that he _might_ have chosen the other -end, and that if he did not, it was because his character was such, -his ideal of himself was such, that this other end did not appeal -to him. The actual result is felt to be the outcome of an unworthy -character manifested in the adoption of a low form of satisfaction; -and the evident contrast of this low form with a higher form, present -to consciousness but rejected, makes the sense of responsibility more -acute. As such, it is the judgment of disapprobation passed upon -conduct; the feeling of remorse and of the desert of punishment. -Freedom as the power of conceiving ends and of realizing the ideal end -in action, is thus the basis both of responsibility and of approbation -(or disapprobation). - - _The Freedom of Indifference._ It is this potential - freedom, arising from the power of proposing various - ends of action, which, misinterpreted, gives rise to the - theory of a liberty of indifferent choice--the theory - that the agent can choose this or that without any - ground or motive. The real experience is the knowledge, - after the choice of one end, that since another end was - also present to consciousness that other end might have - been chosen, _if only the character had been such as to - find its satisfaction in that other end_. The theory of - indifference misconstrues this fact to mean that the agent - might just as well have chosen that other end, without any - if or qualification whatever. The theory of indifference, - moreover, defeats its own end. The point which it is - anxious to save is responsibility. It sees that if only - one course of action were ever open to an agent, without - the possibility of any _conception_ of another course, an - agent, so acting, could not be held responsible for not - having adopted that other course. And so it argues that - there must always be the possibility of indifferent or - alternate choice; the possibility of adopting this or that - line of action without any motive. But if such were the - case responsibility would be destroyed. If the end chosen - is not an expression of character, if it does not manifest - the agent's ideal of himself, if its choice is a matter - of indifference, it does not signify morally, but is mere - accident or caprice. It is because choice is _not_ a matter - of indifference, but an outcome of character that the - agent feels responsibility, and approves or disapproves. - He virtually says: "I am responsible for this outcome, - not because I could have chosen another end just as well - _without any reason_, but because I thought of another end - and rejected it; because my character was such that that - end did not seem good, and was such that this end did seem - good. My character is myself, and in this unworthy end I - stand self-condemned." - - -LI. - -Moral Reformation. - -Freedom considered as potential, depending upon the power of the agent -to frame diverse ends, is the basis not only of responsibility, but -also of the possibility of reformation, or of change in character and -conduct. All moral action is the expression of self, but the self -is not something fixed or rigid. It includes as a necessary part of -itself the possibility of framing conceptions of what it would be, -and there is, therefore, at any time the possibility of acting upon -some ideal hitherto unrealized. If conduct were the expression of -character, in a sense which identified character wholly with past -attainments, then reformation would be impossible. What a man once was -he must always continue to be. But past attainments do not exhaust all -the possibilities of character. Since conduct necessarily implies a -continuous adjustment of developing capacity to new conditions, there -is the ability to frame a changed ideal of self-satisfaction--that -is, ability to lead a new life. That the new ideal is adopted from -experience of the unworthy nature of former deeds is what we should -expect. The chosen end having proved itself unsatisfactory, the -alternative end, previously rejected, recurs to consciousness with -added claims. To sum up: The doctrine that choice depends upon -character is correct, but the doctrine is misused when taken to mean -that a man's outward conduct will always be in the same direction that -it has been. Character involves all the ideas of different and of -better things which have been present to the agent, although he has -never attempted to carry them out. And there is always the possibility -that, if the proper influences are brought to bear, some one of -these latent ideals may be made vital, and wholly change the bent of -character and of conduct. - - -LII. - -Positive Freedom. - -The _capacity_ of freedom lies in the power to form an ideal or -conception of an end. _Actual_ freedom lies in the realization of -that end which actually satisfies. An end may be freely adopted, and -yet its actual working out may result not in freedom, but in slavery. -It may result in rendering the agent more subject to his passions, -less able to direct his own conduct, and more cramped and feeble in -powers. Only that end which executed really effects greater energy and -comprehensiveness of character makes for actual freedom. In a word, -only the good man, the man who is truly realizing his individuality, is -free, in the positive sense of that word. - -Every action which is not in the line of performance of functions -must necessarily result in self-enslavement. The end of desire is -activity; and it is only in fullness and unity of activity that freedom -is found. When desires are not unified--when, that is, the idea of -the exercise of function does not control conduct--one desire must -conflict with another. Action is directed now this way, now that, -and there is friction, loss of power. On account of this same lack of -control of desires by the comprehensive law of social activity, one -member of society is brought into conflict with another, with waste -of energy, and with impeded and divided activity and satisfaction of -desire. Exercise of function, on the other hand, unifies the desires, -giving each its relative, although subordinate, place. It fits each -into the others, and, through the harmonious adjustment of one to -another, effects that complete and unhindered action which is freedom. -The performance of specific function falls also into free relations -with the activities of other persons, coöperating with them, giving and -receiving what is needed, and thus constituting full liberty. Other -aspects of freedom, as the negative and the potential, are simply means -instrumental to the realization of individuality, and when not employed -toward this, their true end, they become methods of enslaving the agent. - - On the subject of moral freedom, as, upon the whole, in - agreement with the view presented here: See - - Green: Prolegomena to Ethics, pp. 90-117; 142-158. Bradley: - Ethical Studies, ch. I; Caird: Phil. of Kant, Vol. II, Bk. - II, ch. 3; Alexander: Moral Order and Progress, pp. 336-341. - - And, for a view agreeing in part, Stephen: Science of - Ethics, pp. 278-293. - - For presentations of the freedom of indifference, see, - Lotze: Practical Philosophy, ch. 3. Martineau: Op. - cit., Vol. II, pp. 34-40. Calderwood: Handbook of Moral - Philosophy. - - - - -PART II. - -THE ETHICAL WORLD. - - -LIII. - -The Reality of Moral Relations. - -The habit of conceiving moral action as a certain _kind_ of action, -instead of all action so far as it really is action, leads us to -conceive of morality as a highly desirable something which somehow -ought to be brought into our lives, but which upon the whole is not. -It gives rise to the habit of conceiving morality as a vague ideal -which it is praiseworthy for the individual to strive for, but which -depends wholly for its existence upon the individual's wish in the -matter. Morality, that is, is considered as a relation existing between -something which merely _ought to be_, on one hand, and the individual's -choice, or his conscience on the other. This point of view has found -typical expression in Bishop Butler's saying: "If conscience had might -as it has right, it would rule the world." - -But right is not such a helpless creature. It exists not in word but -in power. The moral world is, here and now; it is a reality apart from -the wishes, or failures to wish, of any given individual. It bears -the same relation to the individual's activity that the 'physical -world' does to his knowledge. Not till the individual has to spin the -physical world out of his consciousness in order to know it, will -it be necessary for him to create morality by his choice, before it -can exist. As knowledge is mastery in one's self of the real world, -the reproduction of it in self-consciousness, so moral action is the -appropriation and vital self-expression of the values contained in the -existing practical world. - -The existence of this moral world is not anything vaguely mysterious. -Imagine a well organized factory, in which there is some comprehensive -industry carried on--say the production of cotton cloth. This is the -end; it is a common end--that for which each individual labors. Not all -individuals, however, are doing the same thing. The more perfect the -activity, the better organized the work, the more differentiated their -respective labors. This is the side of individual activity or freedom. -To make the analogy with moral activity complete we have to suppose -that each individual is doing the work because of itself, and not -merely as drudgery for the sake of some further end, as pay. Now these -various individuals are bound together by their various acts; some -more nearly because doing closely allied things, all somewhat, because -contributing to a common activity. This is the side of laws and duties. - -This group of the differentiated and yet related activities is the -analogue of the moral world. There are certain wants which have -constantly to be fulfilled; certain ends which demand coöperating -activities, and which establish fixed relations between men. There is a -world of ends, a realm of definite activities in existence, as concrete -as the ends and activities in our imagined factory. The child finds, -then, ends and actions in existence when he is born. More than this: he -is not born as a mere spectator of the world; he is born _into_ it. He -finds himself encompassed by such relations, and he finds his own being -and activity intermeshed with them. If he takes away from himself, as -an agent, what he has, as sharing in these ends and actions, nothing -remains. - - -LIV. - -Moral Institutions. - -This world of purposes and activities is differentiated into various -institutions. The child is born as a member of a _family_; as he grows -up he finds that others have possessions which he must respect, that -is, he runs upon the institution of _property_. As he grows still -older, he finds persons outside of the family of whose actions he must -take account as respects his own: _society_, in the limited sense -as meaning relations of special intimacy or acquaintanceship. Then -he finds the political institutions; the city, state and nation. He -finds an educational institution, the school, the college; religious -institutions, the church, etc., etc. Everywhere he finds men having -common wants and thus proposing common ends and using coöperative modes -of action. To these organized modes of action, with their reference to -common interests and purposes, he must adjust his activities; he must -take his part therein, if he acts at all, though it be only negatively -or hostilely, as in evil conduct. These institutions _are_ morality -real and objective; the individual becomes moral as he shares in this -moral world, and takes his due place in it. - -Institutions, then, are organized modes of action, on the basis of the -wants and interests which unite men. They differ as the family from the -town, the church from the state, according to the scope and character -of the wants from which they spring. They are not bare _facts_ like -objects of knowledge; they are _practical_, existing for the sake of, -and by means of the will--as execution of ideas which have interest. -Because they are expressions of common purposes and ideas, they are -not merely private will and intelligence, but, in the literal sense, -_public_ will and reason. - -The moral endeavor of man thus takes the form not of isolated fancies -about right and wrong, not of attempts to frame a morality for himself, -not of efforts to bring into being some praiseworthy ideal never -realized; but the form of sustaining and furthering the moral world -of which he is a member. Since the world is one of action, and not of -contemplation like the world of knowledge, it can be sustained and -furthered only as he makes its ends his own, and identifies himself and -his satisfaction with the activities in which other wills find their -fulfillment. - - This is simply a more concrete rendering of what has - already been said about the moral environment (see Sec. 33). - - -LV. - -The Aspects of a Moral Institution. - -An institution is, as we have seen the expression of unity of desires -and ideas; it is general intelligence in action, or common will. As -such common will, it is, as respects the merely private or exclusive -wants and aims of its members, absolutely _sovereign_. It must aim -to control them. It must set before them the common end or ideal and -insist upon this as the only real end of individual conduct. The ends -so imposed by the public reason are _laws_. But these laws are for the -sake of realizing the _common_ end, of securing that organized unity of -action in which alone the individual can find freedom and fullness of -action, or his own satisfaction. Thus the activity of the common will -gives freedom, or _rights_, to the various members of the institution. - -Every institution, then, has its sovereignty, or authority, and -its laws and rights. It is only a false abstraction which makes us -conceive of sovereignty, or authority, and of law and of rights as -inhering only in some supreme organization, as the national state. -The family, the school, the neighborhood group, has its authority -as respects its members, imposes its ideals of action, or laws, and -confers its respective satisfactions in way of enlarged freedom, or -rights. It is true that no one of these institutions is isolated; that -each stands in relation with other like and unlike institutions. Each -minor institution is a member of some more comprehensive whole, to -which it bears the same relation that the individual bears to it. That -is to say, _its_ sovereignty gives way to the authority of the more -comprehensive organization; its laws must be in harmony with the laws -which flow from the larger activity; its rights must become aspects -of a fuller satisfaction. Only humanity or the organized activity of -all the wants, powers and interests common to men, can have absolute -sovereignty, law and rights. - -But the narrower group has its relations, none the less, although, in -ultimate analysis, they flow from and manifest the wider good, which, -as wider, must be controlling. Without such minor local authorities, -rights and laws, humanity would be a meaningless abstraction, and its -activity wholly empty. There is an authority in the family, and the -moral growth of the child consists in identifying the law of his own -conduct with the ends aimed at by the institution, and in growing into -maturity and freedom of manhood through the rights which are bestowed -upon him as such a member. Within its own range this institution -is ultimate. But its range is not ultimate; the family, valuable -and sacred as it is, does not exist for itself. It is not a larger -selfishness. It exists as one mode of realizing that comprehensive -common good to which all institutions must contribute, if they are not -to decay. It is the same with property, the school, the local church, -and with the national state. - -We can now translate into more concrete terms what was said, in Part -I, regarding the good, obligation and freedom. That performance of -function which is 'the good', is now seen to consist in vital union -with, and reproduction of, the practical institutions of which one is a -member. The maintenance of such institutions by the free participation -therein of individual wills, is, of itself, the common good. Freedom -also gets concreteness; it is the assured rights, or powers of action -which one gets as such a member:--powers which are not mere claims, nor -simply claims recognized as valid by others, but claims re-inforced by -the will of the whole community. Freedom becomes real in the ethical -world; it becomes force and efficiency of action, because it does not -mean some private possession of the individual, but means the whole -coöperating and organized action of an institution in securing to an -individual some power of self expression. - - -LVI. - -Moral Law and the Ethical World. - -Without the idea of the ethical world, as the unified activity of -diverse functions exercised by different individuals, the idea of the -good, and of freedom, would be undefined. But probably no one has ever -attempted to conceive of the good and of freedom in total abstraction -from the normal activity of man. Such has not been the lot of duty, -or of the element of law. Often by implication, sometimes in so many -words, it is stated that while a physical law may be accounted for, -since it is simply an abstract from observed facts, a moral law stands -wholly above and apart from actual facts; it expresses solely what -'ought to be' and not what is; that, indeed, whether anything in -accordance with it ever has existed or not, is a matter of no essential -moral importance theoretically, however it may be practically. Now it -is evident that a law of something which has not existed, does not and -perhaps never will exist, is essentially inexplicable and mysterious. -It is as against such a notion of moral law that the idea of a real -ethical world has perhaps its greatest service. - -A moral law, _e. g._, the law of justice, is no more _merely_ a law of -what ought to be than is the law of gravitation. As the latter states a -certain relation of moving masses to one another, so the law of justice -states a certain relation of active wills to one another. For a given -individual, at a given time and circumstances, the law of justice may -appear as the law of something which ought to be, but is not:--is not -_for him in this respect_, that is to say. But the very fact that it -ought to be for him implies that it already is for others. It _is_ a -law of the society of which he is a member. And it is because he _is_ a -member of a society having this law, that is a law of what _should_ be -for him. - -Would then justice cease to be a law for him if it were not observed -at all in the society of which he is a member? Such a question is as -contradictory as asking what would happen to a planet if the solar -system went out of existence. It is the law of justice (with other such -laws) that _makes_ society; that is, it is those active relations -which find expression in these laws that unify individuals so that they -have a common end, and thus mutual duties. To imagine the abolition of -these laws is to imagine the abolition of society; and to ask for the -law of individual conduct apart from all relationship, actual or ideal, -to society, is to ask in what morality consists when moral conditions -are destroyed. A society in which the social bond we call justice does -not obtain to some degree in the relations of man to man, is _not_ -society; and, on the other hand, wherever some law of justice actually -obtains, there the law _is_ for every individual who is a member of the -society. - -This does not mean that the 'is', the actual status of the moral -world, is identical with the 'ought', or the ideal relations of man to -man. But it does mean that there is no obligation, either in general -or as any specific duty, which does not _grow_ out of the 'is', the -actual relations now obtaining.[1] The ethical world at any given -time is undoubtedly imperfect, and, _therefore_, it demands a certain -act to meet the situation. The very imperfection, the very badness -in the present condition of things, is a part of the environment -with reference to which we must act; it is, thus, an element in the -_law_ of future action that it shall not exactly repeat the existing -condition. In other words, the 'is' gives the law of the 'ought', but -it is a part of this law that the 'ought' shall not be as the 'is'. It -is because the relation of justice does hold in members of a stratum of -society, having a certain position, power or wealth, but does not hold -between this section and another class, that the law of what should -be is equal justice for all. In holding that actual social relations -afford the law of what should be, we must not forget that these actual -relations have a negative as well as a positive side, and that the new -law must be framed in view of the negatives, the deficiencies, the -wrongs, the contradictions, as well as of the positive attainments. A -moral law, to sum up, is the principle of action, which, acted upon, -will meet the needs of the existing situation as respects the wants, -powers, and circumstances of the individuals concerned. It is no -far-away abstraction, but expresses the _movement_ of the ethical world. - - [1] See Secs. 59, 60 and 63 for discussion of other aspects - of this question. - -One example will help define the discussion. Take the case of a street -railway conductor, whose union has ordered a strike. What determines -the law of his conduct under the circumstances? Evidently the existing -ethical institutions of which he is a member, so far as he is conscious -of their needs. To determine what he should do, he does not hunt up -some law of an 'ought' apart from what is; if he should hunt for and -should find such a law he would not know what to do with it. Just -because it is apart from his concrete circumstances it is no guide, no -law for his conduct at all. He has to act not in view of some abstract -principle, but in view of a concrete situation. He considers his -present wage, its relation to its needs and abilities; his capacity -and taste for this and for that work; the reasons for the strike; the -conditions of labor at present with reference to winning the strike, -and as to the chance of getting other work. He considers his family, -their needs and developing powers; the demand that they should live -decently; that his children should be fairly educated and get a fair -start in the world; he considers his relationships to his fellow -members in the union, etc. These considerations, and such as these, -give the law to his decision in so far as he acts morally and not -instinctively. Where in this law-giving is there any separation from -facts? On the contrary, the more right the act (the nearer it comes -to its proper law), the more it will simply express and reflect the -actual concrete facts. The law, in other words, of action, is the law -of actual social forces in their onward movement, in so far as these -demand some response in the way of conduct from the individual. - -We may restate from this point of view, what we have already learned: -A moral law is thoroughly individualized. It cannot be duplicated; it -cannot be for one act just what it is for another. The ethical world -is too rich in capacity and circumstance to permit of monotony; it is -too swift in its movement to allow of bare repetition. It will not hold -still; it moves on, and moral law is the law of action required from -individuals by this movement. - - The consideration of specific institutions, as the family, - industrial society, civil society, the nation, etc., - with their respective rights and laws, belongs rather to - political philosophy than to the general theory of ethics. - - - - -PART III. - -THE MORAL LIFE OF THE INDIVIDUAL. - - -LVII. - -Division of Subject. - -We have now analyzed the fundamental moral notions--the good, duty and -freedom; we have considered their objective realization, and seen that -they are outwardly expressed in social relations, the more typical -and abiding of which we call institutions; that abstract duties are -realized in the laws created and imposed by such institutions, and -that abstract freedom is realized in the rights possessed by members -in them. We have now to consider the concrete moral life of an -individual born into this existing ethical world and finding himself -confronted with institutions in which he must execute his part, and -in which he obtains his satisfaction and free activity. We have to -consider how these institutions appeal to the individual, awakening in -him a distinct _moral_ consciousness, or the consciousness of active -relations to persons, in antithesis to the theoretical consciousness -of relations which exist in contemplation; how the individual behaves -towards these institutions, realizing them by assuming his proper -position in them, or attempting to thwart them by living in isolation -from them; and how a moral character is thus called into being. More -shortly, we have to deal (I) with the practical consciousness, or -the formation and growth of ideals of conduct; (II) with the moral -struggle, or the process of realizing ideals, and (III) with moral -character, or the virtues. - - - - -CHAPTER I.--THE FORMATION AND GROWTH OF IDEALS. - - -LVIII. - -Analysis of Conscience. - -The practical consciousness, or the recognition of ends and relations -of action, is what is usually termed _conscience_. The analysis -of conscience shows that it involves three elements, which may be -distinguished in theory, although they have no separate existence in -the actual fact of conscience itself. These three elements are (1) the -knowledge of certain specific forms of conduct, (2) the recognition of -the authority or obligatoriness of the forms, and (3) the emotional -factors which cluster about this recognition. That is to say, we often -speak (1) of conscience telling or informing us of duties; we speak of -an enlightened or unenlightened conscience; of savage, or medięval, or -modern conscience. Here we are evidently thinking of the kind and range -of particular acts considered right or wrong. But we also speak (2) of -the authority and majesty of conscience; of the commands of conscience, -etc. Here we are thinking of the consciousness of _obligation in -general_. The savage and the civilized man may vary greatly in their -estimate of what particular acts are right or wrong, and yet agree in -the recognition that such acts as are right are absolutely obligatory. -Finally we speak of an approving or disapproving, or remorseful -conscience, of a tender or a hardened conscience, of the pangs, the -pricks of conscience, etc. Here (3) we are evidently dealing with the -responsiveness of the disposition to moral distinctions, either in -particular acts, or in the recognition of moral law in general. - - -LIX. - -Conscience as the Recognition of Special Acts as Right or Wrong. - -Conscience in this sense is no peculiar, separate faculty of mind. It -is simply intelligence dealing with a certain subject-matter. That is, -conscience is distinguished not by the kind of mental activity at work, -but by the kind of material the mind works upon. Intelligence deals -with the nature and relations of things, and we call it understanding; -intelligence deals with the relations of persons and deeds, and it is -termed conscience. - -We may, with advantage, recognize these stages in the development of -intelligence as dealing with moral relationships: - -1. _The Customary or Conventional Conscience._ The existing moral -world, with the types and varieties of institutions peculiar to it, is -constantly impressing itself upon the immature mind; it makes certain -demands of moral agents and enforces them with all the means in its -power--punishment, reward, blame, public-opinion, and the bestowal of -social leadership. These demands and expectations naturally give rise -to certain convictions in the individual as to what he should or should -not do. Such convictions are not the outcome of independent reflection, -but of the moulding influence of social institutions. Moreover the -morality of a time becomes consolidated into proverbs, maxims and -law-codes. It takes shape in certain habitual ways of looking at and -judging matters. All these are instilled into the growing mind through -language, literature, association and legal custom, until they leave in -the mind a corresponding habit and attitude toward things to be done. -This process may be compared to the process by which knowledge of -the world of things is first attained. Certain of the more permanent -features of this world, especially those whose observance is important -in relation to continued physical existence and well-being, impress -themselves upon the mind. Consciousness, with no reflective activity of -its own, comes to mirror some of the main outlines of the world. The -more important distinctions are fixed in language, and they find their -way into the individual mind, giving it unconsciously a certain bent -and coloring. - -2. _The Loyal Conscience._ But just as the mind, which seems at -first to have the facts and features of the world poured into itself -as a passive vessel, comes in time through its own experience to -appreciate something of their meaning, and, to some extent, to verify -them for itself; so the mind in its moral relations. Without forming -any critical theory of the institutions and codes which are forming -character, without even considering whether they are what they should -be, the individual yet comes at least to a practical recognition that -it is in these institutions that he gets his satisfactions, and through -these codes that he is protected. He identifies himself, his own life, -with the social forms and ideals in which he lives, and repels any -attack upon them as he would an attack upon himself. The demands which -the existing institutions make upon him are not felt as the coercions -of a despot, but as expressions of his own will, and requiring loyalty -as such. The conventional conscience, if it does not grow into this, -tends to become slavish, while an intelligence which practically -realizes, although without continual reflection, the _significance_ of -conventional morality is _free_ in its convictions and service. - -3. _The Independent or Reflective Conscience._ The intelligence may -not simply appropriate, as its own, conventions embodied in current -institutions and codes, but may _reflect_ upon them. It may ask: What -is this institution of family, property for? Does the institution -in its present form work as it should work, or is some modification -required? Does this rule which is now current embody the true needs of -the situation, or is it an antiquated expression of by-gone relations? -What is the true spirit of existing institutions, and what sort of -conduct does this spirit demand? - -Here, in a word, we have the same relation to the ethical world, that -we have in physical science to the external world. Intelligence is not -content, on its theoretical side, with having facts impressed upon -it by direct contact or through language; it is not content with -coming to feel for itself the value of the truths so impressed. It -assumes an independent attitude, putting itself over against nature and -cross-questioning her. It proposes its own ideas, its own theories and -hypotheses, and manipulates facts to see if this rational meaning can -be verified. It criticises what passes as truth, and pushes on to more -adequate statement. - -The correlative attempt, on the part of intelligence on its practical -side, may have a larger or a smaller scope. In its wider course -it aims to criticise and to re-form prevailing social ideals and -institutions--even those apparently most fixed. This is the work of -the great moral teachers of the world. But in order that conscience be -critical, it is not necessary that its range be so wide. The average -member of a civilized community is nowadays called upon to reflect -upon his immediate relationships in life, to see if they are what -they should be; to regulate his own conduct by rules which he follows -not simply because they are customary, but the result of his own -examination of the situation. There is no difference in kind between -the grander and the minuter work. And it is only the constant exercise -of reflective examination on the smaller scale which makes possible, -and which gives efficiency to, the deeper criticism and transformation. - - -LX. - -Reflective Conscience and the Ethical World. - -This conception of conscience as critical and reflective is one of the -chief fruits of the Socratic ethics, fructified by the new meaning -given life through the Christian spirit. It involves the 'right of -free conscience'--the right of the individual to know the good, to -know the end of action, for himself, rather than to have some good, -however imposing and however beneficent, enjoined from without. It -is this principle of subjective freedom, says Hegel, which marks the -turning-point in the distinction of modern from ancient times (Sec. -124, _Grundlinien der Philosophie des Rechts_, Vol. VIII of Hegel's -Works).[2] - - [2] I hardly need say how largely I am indebted in the - treatment of this topic, and indeed, in the whole matter of - the 'ethical world', to Hegel. - -But this notion of conscience is misinterpreted when the content as -well as the form of conscience is thought to be individual. There is -no right of private judgment, in the sense that there is not a public -source and standard of judgment. What is meant by this right is that -the standard, the source, is not the opinion of some other person, -or group of persons. It is a common, objective standard. It is that -embodied in social relationships themselves. - -The conception of conscience as a private possession, to be exercised -by each one in independence of historical forms and contemporary -ideals, is thoroughly misleading. The saying "I had to follow my -own notion of what is right" has been made the excuse for all sorts -of capricious, obstinate and sentimental performance. It is of such -notions that Hegel further says: "The striving for a morality of one's -own is futile, and by its very nature impossible of attainment; in -respect of morality the saying of the wisest men of antiquity is the -only true one: To be moral is to live in accordance with the moral -tradition of one's country" (Hegel, Works, Vol. I, p. 389). And in -discussing the same question, Bradley has said that the wish to have -a morality of one's own better than that of the world is to be on the -threshold of morality (p. 180). - -Yet, on the other hand, conscience should not simply repeat the -burden of existing usages and opinions. No one can claim that the -existing morality embodies the highest possible conception of personal -relations. A morality which does not recognize both the possibility -and the necessity of advance is immorality. Where then is the way out -from a capricious self-conceit, on one hand, and a dead conformity -on the other? Reflective conscience must be _based_ on the moral -consciousness expressed in existing institutions, manners and beliefs. -Otherwise it is empty and arbitrary. But the existing moral status is -never wholly self-consistent. It realizes ideals in one relation which -it does not in another; it gives rights to 'aristocrats' which it -denies to low-born; to men, which it refuses to women; it exempts the -rich from obligations which it imposes upon the poor. Its institutions -embody a common good which turns out to be good only to a privileged -few, and thus existing in self-contradiction. They suggest ends which -they execute only feebly or intermittently. Reflective intelligence -cross-questions the existing morality; and extracts from it the -ideal which it pretends to embody, and thus is able to criticise the -existing morality in the light of its _own_ ideal. It points out the -inconsistencies, the incoherencies, the compromises, the failures, -between the actual practice and the theory at the basis of this -practice. And thus the new ideal proposed by the individual is not -a product of his private opinions, but is the outcome of the ideal -embodied in existing customs, ideas and institutions. - - -LXI. - -The Sense of Obligation. - -There has been much discussion regarding the nature of the act of mind -by which obligation is recognized. A not uncommon view has been that -the sense of duty as such must be the work of a peculiar faculty of -the mind. Admitting that the recognition of this or that particular -thing as right or wrong, is the work of ordinary intelligence, it is -held that the additional recognition of the absolute obligatoriness of -the right cannot be the work of this intelligence. For our intellect is -confined to judging what is or has been; the conception of obligation, -of something which should be, wholly transcends its scope. There is, -therefore, some special moral in faculty called which affixes to the -ordinary judgments the stamp of the categorical imperative "You ought". - - See for example Maurice on "Conscience". The view is - traceable historically to Kant's conception of Practical - Reason, but as the view is ordinarily advanced the function - of Practical Reason in Kant's philosophy is overlooked. The - Practical Reason is no special faculty of man's being; it - is his consciousness of himself as an acting being; that - is, as a being capable of acting from ideas. Kant never - separates the consciousness of duty from the very nature - of will as the realization of conceptions. In the average - modern presentation, this intrinsic connection of duty with - activity is absent. Conscience becomes a faculty whose - function it is to clap the idea of duty upon the existent - conception of an act; and this existent conception is - regarded as morally indifferent. - - It is true that Kant's Practical Reason has a certain - separateness or isolation. But this is because of his - general separation of the rational from the sensuous - factor, and not because of any separation of the - consciousness of action from the consciousness of duty. If - Kant erred in his divorce of desire and duty, then even the - relative apartness of the Practical Reason must be given - up. The consciousness of obligation is involved in the - recognition of _any_ end of conduct, and not simply in the - end of abstract law. - -Such a conception of conscience, however, is open to serious -objections. Aside from the fact that large numbers of men declare -that no amount of introspection reveals any such machinery within -themselves, this separate faculty seems quite superfluous. The real -distinction is not between the consciousness of an action with, and -without, the recognition of duty, but between a consciousness which is -and one which is not capable of conduct. Any being who is capable of -putting before himself ideas as motives of conduct, who is capable of -forming a conception of something which he would realize, is, by that -very fact, capable of a sense of obligation. The consciousness of an -end to be realized, the idea of something to be done, is, in and of -itself, the consciousness of duty. - -Let us consider again the horse-car conductor (see Sec. LVI). After he -has analyzed the situation which faces him and decided that a given -course of conduct is the one which fits the situation, does he require -some additional faculty to inform him that this course is the one -which should be followed? The analysis of practical ideas, that is, of -proposed ends of conduct, is from the first an analysis of what should -be done. Such being the case, it is no marvel that the conclusion of -the reflection is: "This should (ought to) be done." - -Indeed, just as every judgment about existent fact naturally takes the -form 'S _is_ P', so every judgment regarding an activity which executes -an idea takes the form, 'S ought (or ought not) to be P'. It requires -no additional faculty of mind, after intelligence has been studying -the motions of the moon, to insert itself, and affirm some objective -relation or truth--as that the moon's motions are explainable by the -law of gravitation. It is the very essence of theoretical judgment, -judgment regarding fact, to state truth--what is. And it is the very -essence of practical judgment, judgment regarding deeds, to state that -active relation which we call obligation, what _ought to be_. - -The judgment as to what a practical situation _is_, is an untrue or -abstract judgment. - -The practical situation is itself an _activity_; the needs, powers, and -circumstances which make it are moving on. At no instant in time is -the scene quiescent. But the agent, in order to determine his course -of action in view of this situation, has to _fix_ it; he has to arrest -its onward movement in order to tell what it is. So his abstracting -intellect cuts a cross-section through its on-going, and says 'This -_is_ the situation'. Now the judgment 'This ought to be the situation', -or 'in view of the situation, my conduct ought to be thus and so', is -simply restoring the movement which the mind has temporarily put out -of sight. By means of its cross-section, intelligence has detected the -principle, or law of movement, of the situation, and it is on the basis -of this movement that conscience declares what ought to be. - -Just as the fact of moral law, or of authority, of the incumbency of -duty, needs for its explanation no separation of the 'is' from the -'ought' (see LVI), but only recognition of the law of the 'is' which -is, perforce, a law of movement, and of change;--so the consciousness -of law, 'the sense of obligation' requires no special mental faculty -which may declare what ought to be. The intelligence that is capable -of declaring truth, or what is, is capable also of making known -obligation. For obligation is only _practical_ truth, the 'is' of doing. - - See upon this point, as well as upon the relation of laws - and rules to action, my article in Vol. I, No. 2, of the - International Journal of Ethics, entitled 'Moral Theory and - Practice'. - - -LXII. - -Conscience as Emotional Disposition. - -Probably no judgment is entire-free from emotional coloring and -accompaniments. It is doubtful whether the most indifferent judgment -is not based upon, and does not appeal to, some interest. Certainly -all the more important judgments awaken some response from the self, -and excite its interests to their depths. Some of them may be excited -by the intrinsic nature of the subject-matter under judgment, while -others are the results of associations more or less accidental. -The former will necessarily be aroused in every being, who has any -emotional nature at all, whenever the judgment is made, while the -latter will vary from time to time, and may entirely pass away. That -moral judgments, judgments of what should be (or should have been) -done, arouse emotional response, is therefore no cause for surprise. It -may help clear up difficulties if we distinguish three kinds of such -emotional accompaniment. - -1. There are, first, the interests belonging to the sense of obligation -as such. We have just seen that this sense of obligation is nothing -separate from the consciousness of the particular act which is to -be performed. Nevertheless the consciousness of obligation, of an -authority and law, recurs with every act, while the special content of -the act constantly varies. Thus an idea of law, or of duty in general, -is formed, distinct from any special duty. Being formed, it arouses the -special emotional excitation appropriate to it. The formation of this -general idea of duty, and the growth of feeling of duty as such, is -helped on through the fact that children (and adults so far as their -moral life is immature) need to have their moral judgments constantly -reinforced by recurrence to the thought of law. That is to say, a -child, who is not capable of seeing the true moral bearings and claims -of an act, is yet continually required to perform such an act on the -ground that it is obligatory. The feeling, therefore, is natural and -legitimate. It must, however, go hand in hand with the feelings aroused -by the special moral relations under consideration. Disconnected from -such union, it necessarily leads to slavish and arbitrary forms of -conduct. A child, for example, who is constantly taught to perform acts -simply because he _ought_ to do so, without having at the same time -his intelligence directed to the nature of the act which is obligatory -(without, that is, being led to see how or why it is obligatory), may -have a strongly developed sense of obligation. As he grows up, however, -this sense of duty will be largely one of dread and apprehension; a -feeling of constraint, rather than of free service. Besides this, it -will be largely a matter of accident to what act this feeling attaches -itself. Anything that comes to the mind with the force of associations -of past education, any ideal that forces itself persistently into -consciousness from any source may awaken this sense of obligation, -wholly irrespective of the true nature of the act. This is the -explanation of strongly 'conscientious' persons, whose morality is yet -unintelligent and blundering. It is of such persons that it has been -said that a thoroughly _good_ man can do more harm than a number of bad -men. - -When, however, the feeling of obligation in general is developed along -with particular moral judgments (that is, along with the habit of -considering the special nature of acts performed), it is one of the -strongest supports to morality. Acts constantly need to be performed -which are recognized as right and as obligatory, and yet with reference -to which there is no fixed habit of conduct. In these cases, the more -direct, or spontaneous, stimulus to action is wanting. - -If, however, there is a strong sense of obligation in general, this may -attach itself to the particular act and thus afford the needed impetus. -In unusual experiences, and in cases where the ordinary motive-forces -are lacking, such a feeling of regard for law may be the only sure stay -of right conduct. - -2. There is the emotional accompaniment appropriate to the special -content of the act. If, for example, the required act has to do with -some person, there arise in consciousness the feelings of interest, of -love and friendship, or of dislike, which belong to that person. If it -relate to some piece of work to be done, the sweeping of a room, the -taking of a journey, the painting of a picture, there are the interests -natural to such subjects. These feelings when aroused necessarily form -part of the emotional attitude as respects the act. It is the strength -and normal welling-up of such specific interests which afford the best -assurance of healthy and progressive moral conduct, as distinct from -mere sentimental dwelling upon ideals. Only interests prevent the -divorce of feelings and ideas from habits of action. Such interests are -the union of the subjective element, the self, and the objective, the -special relations to be realized (Sec. XXXIV), and thus necessarily -produce a right and healthy attitude towards moral ends. It is obvious -that in a normal moral life, the law of obligation in general, and the -specific interests in particular cases, should more and more fuse. The -interests, at their strongest, take the form of _love_. And thus there -is realized the ideal of an effective character; the union of law and -inclination in its pure form--love for the action in and of itself. - -3. Emotions due to accidental associations. It is matter of common -notice that the moral feelings are rarely wholly pure; that all sorts -of sentiments, due to associations of time and place and person not -strictly belonging to the acts themselves, cluster about them. While -this is true, we should not forget the great difficulty there is in -marking off any associations as _wholly_ external to the nature of -the act. We may say that mere fear of punishment is such a wholly -external feeling, having no place in moral emotion. Yet it may be -doubted whether there is any feeling that may be called mere fear -of punishment. It is, perhaps, fear of punishment by a parent, for -whom one has love and respect, and thus the fear has partially a -genuinely moral aspect. Some writers would call the ęsthetic feelings, -the feelings of beauty, of harmony, which gather about moral ends -adventitious. Yet the fact that other moralists have made all moral -feelings essentially ęsthetic, as due to the perception of the fitness -and proportion of the acts, should warn us from regarding ęsthetic -feelings as wholly external. About all that can be said is that -feelings which do not spring from _some_ aspect of the content of the -act itself should be extruded, with growing maturity of character, from -influence upon conduct. - - -LXIII. - -Conscientiousness. - -Conscientiousness is primarily the virtue of intelligence in regard -to conduct. That is to say, it is the formed habit of bringing -intelligence to bear upon the analysis of moral relations--the habit of -considering what ought to be done. It is based upon the recognition of -the idea first distinctly formulated by Socrates--that "an unexamined -life is not one that should be led by man". It is the outgrowth of the -customary morality embodied in usages, codes and social institutions, -but it is an advance upon custom, because it requires a meaning and -a reason. It is the mark of a "character which will not be satisfied -without understanding the law that it obeys; without knowing what -the good is, for which the demand has hitherto been blindly at work" -(Green, Op. cit., p. 270). Conscientiousness, then, is reflective -intelligence grown into character. It involves a greater and wider -recognition of obligation in general, and a larger and more stable -emotional response to everything that presents itself as duty; as well -as the habit of deliberate consideration of the moral situation and of -the acts demanded by it. - -Conscientiousness is an analysis of the conditions under which conduct -takes place, and of the action that will meet these conditions; -it is a thoroughly _objective_ analysis. What is sometimes termed -conscientiousness is merely the habit of analyzing internal moods -and sentiments; of prying into 'motives' in that sense of motive -which identifies it not with the end of action, but with some -subjective state of emotion. Thus considered, conscientiousness is -morbid. We are sometimes warned against _over_-conscientiousness. -But such conscientiousness means simply over-regard of one's private -self; keeping an eye upon the effect of conduct on one's internal -state, rather than upon conduct itself. Over-conscientiousness is as -impossible as over-intelligence, since it is simply the application -of intelligence to conduct. It is as little morbid and introspective -as is the analysis of any fact in nature. Another notion which is -sometimes thought to be bound up with that of conscience, also has -nothing to do with it; namely, the notion of a precision and coldness -opposed to all large spontaneity and broad sympathy in conduct. The -reflective man of narrow insight and cramped conduct is often called -the conscientious man and opposed to the man of generous impulses. This -comes from identifying conscience with a ready-made code of rules, and -its action with the application of some such fixed code to all acts -as they come up. It is evident, on the contrary, that such a habit is -opposed to conscience. Conscience means the consideration of each case -_in itself_; measuring it not by any outside code, but in the existing -moral situation. - - On conscientiousness, see Green, Op. cit., pp. 269-271 - and 323-327; and Alexander, Op. cit., pp. 156-160. These - writers, however, seem to identify it too much with - internal scrutiny. Green, for example, expressly identifies - conscientiousness with a man's "questioning about himself, - whether he has been as good as he should have been, whether - a better man would not have acted otherwise than he has - done" (p. 323). He again speaks of it as "comparison of - our own practice, as we know it on the inner side in - relation to the motives and character which it expresses, - with an ideal of virtue". The first definition seems to be - misleading. Questioning as to whether the end adopted was - what it should have been, _i. e._, whether the analysis - of the situation was correctly performed, may be of great - service in aiding future decisions, but questioning - regarding the purity of one's own 'motive' does not seem of - much avail. In a man upon the whole good, such questioning - is apt to be paralyzing. The energy that should go to - conduct goes to anxiety about one's conduct. It is the view - of goodness as directed mainly towards one's own private - motives, which has led such writers as Henry James, Sr., - and Mr. Hinton, to conceive of 'morality', the struggle - for goodness, to be in essence bad. They conceived of - the struggle for 'private goodness' as no different from - the struggle for private pleasure, although likely, of - course, to lead to better things. Nor in a bad man is such - scrutiny of 'motive', as apart from objective end, of much - value. The bad man is generally aware of the badness of - his motive without much close examination. The truth aimed - at by Green is, I think, amply covered by recognizing that - conscientiousness as a constant will to know what should - be, and to readjust conduct to meet the new insight, is the - spring of the moral life. - - -LXIV. - -Moral Commands, Rules and Systems. - -What is the part played by specific commands and by general rules -in the examination of conduct by conscience? We should note, in the -first place, that commands are not rules, and rules are not commands. -A command, to be a command, must be specific and individual. It must -refer to time, place and circumstance. 'Thou shalt do no murder' is -not strictly speaking a command, for it allows questioning as to what -is murder. Is killing in war murder? Is the hanging of criminals -murder? Is taking life in self-defense murder? Regarded simply as a -command, this command would be 'void for uncertainty'. A true command -is a specific injunction of one person to another to do or not to do -a stated thing or things. Under what conditions do commands play a -part in moral conduct? In cases where the intelligence of the agent is -so undeveloped that he cannot realize for himself the situation and -see the act required, and when a part of the agent's environment is -constituted by others who have such required knowledge, there _is_ a -moral element in command and in obedience. - -This explains the moral responsibility of parents to children and of -children to parents. The soldier, too, in recognizing a general's -command, is recognizing the situation as it exists for him. Were there -simply superior force on one side, and fear on the other, the relation -would be an immoral one. It is implied, of course, in such an instance -as the parents' command, that it be so directed as to enable the child -more and more to dispense with it--that is, that it be of such a -character as to give the child insight into the situation for himself. -Here is the transition from a command to a rule. - -A rule does not tell what to do or what to leave undone. The Golden -Rule, for example, does not tell me how to act in any specific case. _A -rule is a tool of analysis._ The moral situation, or capacity in its -relation to environment, is often an extremely complicated affair. How -shall the individual resolve it? How shall he pick it to pieces, so as -to see its real nature and the act demanded by it? It is evident that -the analysis will be the more truly and speedily performed if the agent -has a method by which to attack it, certain principles in the light of -which he may view it, instruments for cross-questioning it and making -it render up its meaning. Moral rules perform this service. While the -Golden Rule does not of itself give one jot of information as to what I -should do in a given case, it does, if accepted, immensely simplify the -situation. Without it I should perhaps have to act blindly; with it the -question comes to this: What should I, under the given circumstances, -like to have done to me? This settled, the whole question of what -should be done is settled. - -It is obvious, then, that the value of a moral rule depends upon -its potency in revealing the inner spirit and reality of individual -deeds. Rules in the negative form, rules whose application is limited -in scope because of an attempt to be specific, are midway between -commands proper and rules. The Golden Rule, on the other hand, is -positive, and not attempting to define any specific act, covers in -its range all relations of man to man. It is indeed only a concrete -and forcible statement of the ethical principle itself, the idea of a -common good, or of a community of persons. This is also a convenient -place for considering the practical value of ethical systems. We have -already seen that no system can attempt to tell what in particular -should be done. The principle of a system, however, may be of some aid -in analyzing a specific case. In this way, a system may be regarded -as a highly generalized rule. It attempts to state some fundamental -principle which lies at the basis of moral conduct. So far as it -succeeds in doing this, there is the possibility of its practical -application in particular cases, although, of course, the mediate rules -must continue to be the working tools of mankind--on account of their -decided concrete character, and because they have themselves taken -shape under the pressure of practice rather than of more theoretical -needs. - - -LXV. - -Development of Moral Ideals. - -Thus far we have been speaking of conscience mainly as to its method of -working. We have now to speak more definitely of its content, or of the -development of ideals of action. - -It is of the very nature of moral conduct to be progressive. Permanence -of _specific_ ideals means moral death. We say that truth-telling, -charity, loyalty, temperance, have always been moral ends and while -this is true, the statement as ordinarily made is apt to hide from us -the fact that the content of the various ideals (what is _meant_ by -temperance, etc.) has been constantly changing, and this of necessity. -The realization of moral ends must bring about a changed situation, -so that the repetition of the same ends would no longer satisfy. This -progress has two sides: the satisfaction of wants leads to a larger -view of what satisfaction really is, _i. e._, to the creation of new -capacities and wants; while adjustment to the environment creates wider -and more complex social relationships. - -Let the act be one of intelligence. Some new fact or law is discovered. -On one hand, this discovery may arouse a hitherto comparatively -dormant mind; it may suggest the possession of capacities previously -latent; it may stimulate mental activity and create a thirst for -expanding knowledge. This readjustment of intellectual needs and -powers may be comparatively slight, or it may amount, as it has with -many a young person, to a revolution. On the other hand, the new -fact changes the intellectual outlook, the mental horizon, and, by -transforming somewhat the relations of things, demands new conduct. -All this, even when the growth of knowledge concerns only the physical -world. But development of insight into social needs and affairs has a -larger and more direct progressive influence. The social world exists -spiritually, as conceived, and a new conception of it, new perception -of its scope and bearings, is, perforce, a change of that world. And -thus it is with the satisfaction of the human want of knowledge, that -patience, courage, self-respect, humility, benevolence, all change -character. When, for example, psychology has given an increase of -knowledge regarding men's motives, political economy an increase of -knowledge regarding men's wants, when historical knowledge has added -its testimony regarding the effects of indiscriminate giving, charity -must change its content. While once, the mere supplying of food or -money by one to another may have been right as meeting the recognized -relations, charity now comes to mean large responsibility in knowledge -of antecedents and circumstances, need of organization, careful tracing -of consequences, and, above all, effort to remove the conditions which -made the want possible. The activity involved has infinitely widened. - -Let the act be in the region of industrial life--a new invention. The -invention of the telephone does not simply satisfy an old want--it -creates new. It brings about the possibility of closer social -relations, extends the distribution of intelligence, facilitates -commerce. It is a common saying that the luxury of one generation -is the necessity of the next; that is to say, what once satisfied a -somewhat remote need becomes in time the basis upon which new needs -grow up. Energy previously pent up is set free, new power and ideals -are evoked. Consider again a person assuming a family relation. This -seems, at first, to consist mainly in the satisfaction of certain -common and obvious human wants. But this satisfaction, if moral, -turns out rather to be the creation of new insight into life, of new -relationships, and thus of new energies and ideals. We may generalize -these instances. The secret of the moral life is not getting or having, -it is doing and thus being. The getting and the possessing side of life -has a moral value only when it is made the stimulus and nutriment of -new and wider acting. To solve the equation between getting and doing -is the moral problem of life. Let the possession be acquiesced in for -its own sake, and not as the way to freer (and thus more moral) action, -and the selfish life has set in (see Sec. LXVII). It is essential to -moral activity that it feed itself into larger appetites and thus into -larger life. - - This must not be taken to deny that there is a mechanical - side even to the moral life. A merchant, for example, may - do the same thing over and over again, like going to his - business every morning at the same hour. This is a moral - act and yet it does not seem to lead to a change in moral - wants or surroundings. Yet even in such cases it should - be noted that it is only outwardly that the act is the - _same_. In itself, that is, in its relation to the will - of the agent, it is simply one element in the whole of - character; and as character opens up, the act must change - somewhat also. It is performed somehow in a new spirit. If - this is not to some extent true, if such acts become wholly - mechanical, the moral life is hardening into the rigidity - of death. - -This progressive development consists on one side in a richer and -subtler individual activity, in increased individualization, in wider -and freer functions of life; on the other it consists in increase in -number of those persons whose ideal is a 'common good', or who have -membership in the same moral community; and, further, it consists in -more complex relations between them. It is both intensive and extensive. - -History is one record of growth in the sense of specific powers. -Its track is marked by the appearance of more and more internal and -distinguishing traits; of new divisions of labor and corresponding -freedom in functioning. It begins with groups in which everything -is massed, and the good is common only in the sense of being -undifferentiated for all. It progresses with the evolution of -individuality, of the peculiar gifts entrusted to each, and hence of -the specific service demanded of each. - -The other side, the enlargement of the community of ends, has been -termed growth in "comprehensiveness". History is again a record of -the widening of the social consciousness--of the range of persons -whose interests have to be taken into account in action. There has -been a period in which the community was nothing more than a man's -own immediate family group, this enlarging to the clan, the city, -the social class, the nation; until now, in theory, the community of -interests and ends is humanity itself. - -This growth in comprehensiveness is not simply a growth in the number -of persons having a common end. The quantitative growth reacts upon -the _nature_ of the ends themselves. For example, when the conceived -community is small, bravery may consist mainly in willingness to fight -for the recognized community against other hostile groups. As these -groups become themselves included in the moral community, courage must -change its form, and become resoluteness and integrity of purpose in -defending manhood and humanity as such. That is to say, as long as -the community is based largely upon physical facts, like oneness of -blood, of territory, etc., the ideal of courage will have a somewhat -external and physical manifestation. Let the community be truly -spiritual, consisting in recognition of unity of destiny and function -in coöperation toward an all-inclusive life, and the ideal of courage -becomes more internal and spiritual, consisting in loyalty to the -possibilities of humanity, whenever and wherever found. - - On this development of moral ideals, and especially of - the growth in "comprehensiveness" as reacting upon the - intrinsic form which the ideal itself takes, see Green, Op. - cit., pp. 264-308, followed by Alexander, Op. cit., pp. - 384-398. For the process of change of ideals in general, - see Alexander, pp. 271-292, and 369-371. - - - - -CHAPTER II.--THE MORAL STRUGGLE OR THE REALIZING OF IDEALS. - - -LXVI. - -Goodness as a Struggle. - -We have already seen that the bare repetition of identically the -same acts does not consist with morality. To aim at securing a -satisfaction precisely like the one already experienced, is to fail -to recognize the altered capacity and environment, and the altered -duty. Moral satisfaction prior to an act is _ideal_; ideal not simply -in the sense of being conceived, or present to thought, but ideal in -the sense that it has not been already enjoyed. Some satisfaction has -been enjoyed in a previous activity, but that very satisfaction has -so enlarged and complicated the situation, that its mere repetition -would not afford moral or active satisfaction, but only what Kant -terms 'pathological' satisfaction. Morality thus assumes the form of a -struggle. The past satisfaction speaks for itself; it has been verified -in experience, it has conveyed its worth to our very senses. We have -tried and tasted it, and know that it is good. If morality lay in the -repetition of similar satisfactions, it would not be a struggle. We -should know experimentally before hand that the chosen end would bring -us satisfaction, and should be at rest in that knowledge. But when -morality lies in striving for satisfactions which have not verified -themselves to our sense, it always requires an effort. We have to -surrender the enjoyed good, and stake ourselves upon that of which we -cannot say: We _know_ it is good. To surrender the actual experienced -good for a possible ideal good is the struggle. - -We arrive, in what is termed the opposition of desire and duty, at the -heart of the moral struggle. Of course, taken strictly, there can be -no opposition here. The duty which did not awaken _any_ desire would -not appeal to the mind even as a duty. But we may distinguish between -a desire which is based on past satisfaction actually experienced, and -desire based simply upon the idea that the end is _desirable_--that it -ought to be desired. It may seem strange to speak of a desire based -simply upon the recognition that an end _should_ be desired, but the -possibility of awakening such a desire and the degree of its strength -are the test of a moral character. How far does this end awaken -response in me because I see that it is the end which is fit and due? -How far does it awaken this response although it does not fall into -line with past satisfactions, or although it actually thwart some -habitual satisfaction? Here is the opposition of duty and desire. It -lies in the contrast of a good which has demonstrated itself as such -in experience, and a good whose claim to be good rests only on the -fact that it is the act which meets the situation. It is the contrast -between a good of possession, and one of action. - -From this point of view morality is a life of _aspiration_, and of -_faith_; there is required constant willingness to give up past -goods as the good, and to press on to new ends; not because past -achievements are bad, but because, being good, they have created -a situation which demands larger and more intricately related -achievements. This willingness is aspiration and it implies _faith_. -Only the old good is of sight, has verified itself to sense. The new -ideal, the end which meets the situation, is felt as good only in so -far as the character has formed the conviction that to meet obligation -is itself a good, whether bringing sensible satisfaction or not. You -can prove to a man that he ought to act so and so (that is to say, -that such an act is the one which fits the present occasion), but you -cannot _prove_ to him that the performance of that duty will be good. -Only faith in the moral order, in the identity of duty and the good, -can assert this. Every time an agent takes as his end (that is, chooses -as good) an activity which he has not already tried, he asserts his -belief in the goodness of right action as such. This faith is not a -mere intellectual thing, but it is practical--the staking of self upon -activity as against passive possession. - - -LXVII. - -Moral Badness. - -Badness originates in the contrast which thus comes about between -_having_ the repetition of former action, and _doing_--pressing -forward to the new right action. Goodness is the choice of doing; the -refusal to be content with past good as exhausting the entire content -of goodness. It is, says Green, 'in the continued effort to be better -that goodness consists'. The man, however bad his past and however -limited his range of intellectual, ęsthetic and social activity, who -is dissatisfied with his past, and whose dissatisfaction manifests -itself in act, is accounted better than the man of a respectable past -and higher plane of life who has lapsed into contented acquiescence -with past deeds. For past deeds are not _deeds_, they are passive -enjoyments. The bad man, on the other hand, is not the man who loves -badness _in and for itself_. Such a man would be a mad man or a -devil. All conduct, bad as well as good, is for the sake of _some_ -satisfaction, that is, some good. In the bad man, the satisfaction -which is aimed at is _simply_ the one congruent with existing -inclinations, irrespective of the sufficiency of those inclinations in -view of the changed capacity and environment: it is a good of _having_. -The bad man, that is to say, does not recognize any _ideal_ or _active_ -good; any good which has not already commended itself to him as such. -This good may be good in _itself_; but, as distinguished from the good -which requires action, that which would fulfill the present capacity or -meet the present situation, it is bad. - - Thus Alexander terms badness _a survival_, in part at - least, of former goodness. Hinton says (Philosophy and - Religion, p. 146), "That a thing is wrong does not mean - that it ought never to have been done or thought, but that - it ought to be left off". It will be noted that we are not - dealing with the metaphysical or the religious problem of - the nature and origin of evil, but simply with an account - of bad action as it appears in individual conduct. - -Badness has four traits, all derivable from this basal fact. They are: -(1) Lawlessness, (2) Selfishness, (3) Baseness, (4) Demoralization. - -1. _Lawlessness._ When desire and duty, that is, when desires based on -past having and on future acting, conflict, the bad man lets duty go. -He virtually denies that it is a good at all--it may be a good in the -abstract but not a good for him. He denies that obligation as such has -any value; that any end is to be consulted save his own state of mind. -He denies that there is law for conduct--at least any law beyond the -inclination which he happens to have at the time of action. Keeping -himself within that which has verified itself to his feeling in the -past, he abrogates all authority excepting that of his own immediate -feelings. - -2. _Selfishness._ It has already been shown that the self is not -necessarily immoral, and hence that action for self is not necessarily -bad--indeed, that the true self is social and interest in it right (see -Sec. XXXV). But when a satisfaction based on past experience is set -against one proceeding from an act as meeting obligation, there grows -up a divorce in the self. The actual self, the self recognizing only -past and sensible satisfaction, is set over against the self which -recognizes the necessity of expansion and a wider environment. Since -the former self confines its action to benefits demonstrably accruing -to itself, while the latter, in meeting the demands of the situation, -necessarily contributes to the satisfaction of others, one takes the -form of a _private_ self, a self whose good is set over against and -exclusive of that of others, while the self recognizing obligation -becomes a social self--the self which performs its due function in -society. It is, again, the contrast between getting and doing. - -All moral action is based upon the presupposition of the identity -of good (Sec. XL), but it by no means follows that this identity of -good can be demonstrated to the agent at the time of action. On the -contrary, it is matter of the commonest experience that the sensible -good, the demonstrable good (that is, the one visible on the line of -past satisfaction) may be contradictory to the act which would satisfy -the interests of others. The identity of interests can be proved _only -by acting upon it_; to the agent, prior to action, it is a matter of -faith. Choice presents itself then in these cases as a test: Do you -believe that the Good is simply your private good, or is the true Good, -is _your_ good, one which includes the good of others? The condemnation -passed upon the 'selfish' man is that he virtually declares that good -is essentially exclusive and private. He shuts himself up within -himself, within, that is, his past achievements, and the inclinations -based upon them. The good man goes out of himself in new action. Bad -action is thus essentially narrowing, it confines the self; good action -is expansive and vital, it moves on to a larger self. - -In fine, all conduct, good and bad, satisfies the self; bad conduct, -however, aims at a self which, keeping its eye upon its private and -assured satisfaction, refuses to recognize the increasing function with -its larger social range,--the 'selfish' self. - -Light is thrown upon this point by referring to what was said about -interest (Sec. XXXIV). Interest is _active_ feeling, feeling turned -upon an object, and going out toward it so as to identify it with self. -In this active and objective interest there is satisfaction, but the -satisfaction is _in_ the activity which has the object for its content. -This is the satisfaction of the good self. In the bad self, interest is -reduced to mere feeling; for the aim of life in such a self is simply -to have certain feelings as its own possession; activity and its object -are degraded into mere means for getting these sensations. - -Activity has two sides; as activity, as projection or expression of -one's powers, it satisfies self; as activity, also, it has some end, -some object, for its content. The activity as such, therefore, the -activity for its own sake, must involve the realization of this object -for its own sake. But in having, in getting, there is no such creation -or maintenance of an object for itself. Objects cease to be 'ends -in themselves' when they cease to be the content of action; and are -degraded into means of private satisfaction, that is, of sensation. - -3. _Baseness._ For, when we say that bad action takes account of -ideals only on the basis of possession, we say, in effect, that -it takes account only of _sensible_ satisfaction. As it is in the -progressive movement of morality that there arises the distinction of -the law-abiding and the lawless self, of the social and the selfish -self, so in the same aspect there comes into existence the distinction -of the low, degraded, sensual self, as against the higher or spiritual -self. In themselves, or naturally, there is no desire high, none low. -But when an inclination for an end which consists in possession comes -into conflict with one which includes an active satisfaction--one not -previously enjoyed--the contrast arises. It is wrong to say, with Kant, -that the bad act is simply for pleasure; for the bad act, the choice -of a past satisfaction as against the aspiration for a wider good, -may have a large content--it may be the good of one's family; it may -be scientific or ęsthetic culture. Yet the moment a man begins to live -on the plane of past satisfaction as such, he has begun to live on the -plane of 'sense', or for pleasure. The refusal to recognize the ideal -good, to acknowledge activity as good, throws the agent back into a -life of dwelling upon his own sensible good, and thus he falls more and -more into a life of dwelling upon mere sensations. What made the past -good a good at all was the spirit, the activity, in it, and when it is -no longer an activity, but a mere keeping, the life is gone out of it. -The selfish life must degenerate into mere sensuality--although when -sensuality is 'refined' we call it sentimentality. - -4. _Demoralization._ Morality is activity; exercise of function. -To cease this activity is not to remain on the attained level, for -that, _when attained_, was active. It is to relapse, to slip down -into badness. The moral end is always an activity. To fail in this -activity is, therefore, to involve character in disintegration. It can -be kept together only by constant organizing activity; only by acting -upon new wants and moving toward new situations. Let this activity -cease, and disorganization ensues, as surely as the body decays when -life goes, instead of simply remaining inert as it was. Bad conduct -is thus _unprincipled_; it has no center, no movement. The good man -is 'organic'; he uses his attainments to discover new needs, and to -assimilate new material. He lives from within outwards, his character -is compact, coherent; he has _integrity_. The bad man, having no -controlling unity, has no consistent line of action; his motives of -conduct contradict one another; he follows this maxim in relation to -this person, that in relation to another; character is _demoralized_. - -The bad man is unstable and double-minded. He is not one person, but a -group of conflicting wills. So far as he is really bad he becomes as -many persons as he has desires. His conduct cannot be made universal. -He always makes exceptions in favor of himself. He does not want moral -relations abolished, but relaxed or deflected in his own case, while -they still hold for other men. - - This is the truth at the basis of Kant's contention - regarding goodness as conduct whose maxim is capable of - generalization. See also Bradley, Op. cit., pp. 261-271. - And Alexander, Op. cit., pp. 309-312. - - -LXVIII. - -Goodness in its Relation to the Struggle. - -1. Two aspects of this we have already noted; one, that of -conscientiousness, or habitual alertness and responsiveness of -intelligence to the nature of obligation, both in general and as to -the specific acts which are obligatory. The other is that goodness, -in this relation, consists in _progressive_ adjustment, involving -aspiration as to future conduct, and correlative humility as to present -achievements of character. - -2. We may state what has already been suggested, that goodness as -self-sacrifice or self-renunciation has also its place here. The moral -attitude is one of renunciation, because, on account of the constantly -growing wants and circumstances, the satisfactions which belong to -the actually realized self must be given up for active goods. That -the self-sacrifice takes largely the form of the surrender of private -interests to the welfare of the whole, is explained by what has just -been said regarding selfishness. Self-sacrifice is not in any way the -moral end or the last word. Life is lost that it may be found. The -smaller local life of the private self is given up in order that the -richer and fuller life of the social or active self may be realized. -But none the less the self-sacrifice at the time that it is made is -genuine and real. While it is involved in the very nature of morality -that moral conduct shall bring greater activity, larger life, the -motive of the agent in self-sacrifice is not to give up the lesser -satisfaction for the sake of getting a greater. It is only so far as -he is already moral that he is convinced that the new duty will bring -satisfaction, and his conviction is not one of sense, but of faith. -To the agent at the time of action, it is a real satisfaction which is -given up for one that is only ideal, and given up because the ideal -satisfaction is ethical, active--one congruent to duty, while the -actual satisfaction is only pathological; that is, congruent to the -actualized self--to the having, instead of the doing self. - -3. Goodness is not remoteness from badness. In one sense, goodness is -based upon badness; that is, good action is always based upon action -good once, but bad if persisted in under changing circumstances. The -moral struggle thus presents itself as the conflict between this -"bad" and the good which would duly meet the existing situation. This -good, of course, does not involve the annihilation of the previously -attained good--the present bad--but its subordination; its use in the -new function. This is the explanation of the apparently paradoxical -statement that badness is the material of good action--a statement -literally correct when badness is understood as it is here. Evil is -simply that which goodness has to _overcome_--has to make an element of -itself. - -Badness, as just spoken of, is only potential--the end is bad as -contrasted with the better. Badness may also, of course, be actual; -the bad end may be chosen, and adopted into character. Even in this -sense, goodness is not the absence of evil, or entire freedom from it. -Badness even on this basis is the material of goodness; it is to be put -under foot and made an element in good action. But how can actual evil -be made a factor of right conduct? In this way; the good man learns -from his own bad acts; he does not continue to repeat such acts, nor -does he, while recognizing their badness, simply endeavor to do right -without regard to the previous bad conduct. Perceiving the effect of -his own wrong acts, the change produced in his own capacities, and his -altered relations to other people, he acts so as to meet the situation -which his own bad act has helped to create. Conduct is then right, -although made what it is, to some degree, by previous wrong conduct. - -In this connection, the introduction of Christianity made one of its -largest ethical contributions. It showed how it was possible for a man -to put his badness behind him and even make it an element in goodness. -Teaching that the world of social relations was itself an ethical -reality and a good (a redeemed world), it taught that the individual, -by identifying himself with the spirit of this ethical world, might be -freed from slavery to his past evil; that by recognizing and taking -for his own the evil in the world, instead of engaging in an isolated -struggle to become good by himself, he might make the evil a factor in -his own right action. - -Moreover, by placing morality in activity and not in some thing, or in -conformity to an external law, Christianity changed the nature of the -struggle. While the old struggle had been an effort to get away from -evil to a good beyond, Christianity made the struggle itself a good. -It, then, was no longer the effort to escape to some fixed, unchanging -state; the constant onward movement was itself the goal. Virtue, as -Hegel says, is the battle, the struggle, carried to its full. - -4. _The conception of merit._ This is, essentially, the idea of social -desert--the idea that an agent deserves well of others on account of -his act or his character. An action evokes two kinds of judgments: -first, that the act is right or virtuous, that it fulfills duty. This -judgment may be passed by any one; as well by the agent as by any one -else. It is simply the recognition of the moral character of the act. -But a right act may also awaken a conviction of desert; that the act is -one which furthers the needs of society, and thus is meritorious. - -_This_ is _not_ a judgment which the agent can pass upon his own act. -Virtue and duty are strictly coextensive; no act can be so virtuous, so -right, as to go beyond meeting the demands of the situation. Everything -is a duty which needs to be done in a given situation; the doing of -what needs to be done is right or virtuous. While the agent may and -must approve of right action in himself, he cannot claim desert or -reward because of its virtuousness; he simply does what he should. - -Others, however, may see that the act has been done in the face -of great temptation; after a hard struggle; that it denotes some -unusual qualification or executes some remarkable service. It is not -only right, but obligatory, for others to take due notice of these -qualities, of these deeds. Such notice is as requisite as it is to show -gratitude for generosity, or forgiveness to a repentant man. - -Two errors are to be avoided here; both arising from the identification -of merit with virtue. One view holds that the virtue and merit consist -in doing something over and above duty. There is a minimum of action -which is obligatory; to perform this, since it is obligatory, is no -virtue. Anything above this is virtuous. The other view reverses this -and holds that since no man can do more than he ought, there is no -such thing as merit. Great excellence or heroism in one man is no -more meritorious than ordinary conduct in another; since the one man -is naturally more gifted than the other. But while one act is no more -right or virtuous than another, it may be more meritorious, because -contributing more to moral welfare or progress. To depreciate the -meritorious deed is a sign of a carping, a grudging or a mean spirit. - - The respective relations of duty, virtue and merit have - been variously discussed. Different views will be found in - Sidgwick, Method of Ethics, Bk. III, ch. iv; Alexander, - Moral Order and Progress, pp. 187-195 and 242-247; Stephen, - Science of Ethics, pp. 293-303; Martineau, Types of Ethical - Theory, pp. 78-81; Laurie, Ethica, pp. 145-148. - - - - -CHAPTER III.--REALIZED MORALITY OR THE VIRTUES. - - -LXIX. - -Goodness as Found in Character. - -We have treated of the forming of moral ideals, and of the attempt -to realize them against the counter attractions of sensible desire. -We have now to treat these ideas as actual ends of conduct and thus -reacting upon the agent. The good character, considered in relation -to the moral _struggle_, is the one which chooses the right end, -which endeavors to be better. The good character _in itself_ is that -made by this choice. It is good for the self to choose a due end in -an effort caused by contrary allurements. But the very fact of the -struggle witnesses that morality is not yet the natural and spontaneous -manifestation of character. A _wholly_ good man would feel such -satisfaction in the contemplation of the ideal good that contrary -desires would not affect him. He would take pleasure only in the -right. Every accomplished moral deed tends to bring this about. Moral -realization brings satisfaction. The satisfaction becomes one with the -right act. Duty and desire grow into harmony. Interest and virtue tend -toward unity. - -This is the truth aimed at, but not attained, by the hedonistic school. -In complete moral action, happiness and rightness know no divorce. And -this is true, even though the act, in some of its aspects, involves -pain. The act, so far as its quality of rightness is concerned, calls -forth unalloyed satisfaction, however bound up with pain to self and to -others in some respects. The error of hedonism is not in insisting that -right action is pleasurable, but in its failure to supply content to -the idea of happiness, in its failure to define what happiness is. In -the failure to show those active relations of man to nature and to man -involved in human satisfaction, it reduces happiness to the abstraction -of agreeable sensation. - -A virtue then, in the full sense, that is as the expression of virtuous -character, and not of the struggle of character to be virtuous -against the allurements of passive goods, is an _interest_. The -system of virtues includes the various forms which interest assumes. -Truthfulness, for example, is interest in the media of human exchange; -generosity is interest in sharing any form of superior endowment with -others less rich by nature or training, etc. It is distinguished -from natural generosity, which may be mere impulse, by its being an -interest in the activity or social relation itself, instead of in some -accidental accompaniment of the relation. - -Another way of getting at the nature of the virtues is to consider -them as forms of freedom. Positive freedom is the good, it is realized -activity, the full and unhindered performance of function. A virtue -is any one aspect which the free performance of function may take. -Meekness is one form of the adjustment of capacity to surroundings; -honesty another; indignation another; scientific excellence another, -and so on. In each of these virtues, the agent realizes his freedom: -Freedom from subjection to caprice and blind appetite, freedom in the -full play of activity. - - -LXX. - -Two Kinds of Virtues. - -We may recognize two types of virtuous action. These are: - -1. _The Special Virtues._ These arise from special capacities or -special opportunities. The Greek sense of virtue was almost that of -"excellence", some special fitness or power of an agent. There is the -virtue of a painter, of a scientific investigator, of a philanthropist, -of a comedian, of a statesman, and so on. The special act may be -manifested in view of some special occasion, some special demand of -the environment--charity, thankfulness, patriotism, chastity, etc. -Goodness, as the realization of the moral end, is a system, and the -special virtues are the particular members of the system. - -2. _Cardinal Virtues._ Besides these special members of a system, -however, the whole system itself may present various aspects. That -is to say, even in a special act the whole spirit of the man may be -called out, and this expression of the whole character is a cardinal -virtue. While the special virtues differ in content, as humility from -bravery, earnestness from compassion, the cardinal virtues have the -same content, showing only different sides of it. Conscientiousness, -for example, is a cardinal virtue. It does not have to do with an -act belonging to some particular capacity, or evoked by some special -circumstance, but with the spirit of the whole self as manifested in -the will to recognize duty--both its obligatoriness in general and the -concrete forms which it takes. Truthfulness as a special virtue would -be the desire to make word correspond to fact in some instance of -speech. As a cardinal virtue, it is the constant will to clarify and -render true to their ideal all human relations--those of man to man, -and man to nature. - - -LXXI. - -The Cardinal Virtues. - -The cardinal virtues are marked by - -1. _Wholeness._ This or that virtue, not calling the whole character -into play, but only some special power, is partial. But a cardinal -virtue is not _a_ virtue, but the spirit in which all acts are -performed. It lies in the attitude which the agent takes towards duty; -his obedience to recognized forms, his readiness to respond to new -duties, his enthusiasm in moving forward to new relations. It is a -common remark that moral codes change from 'Do not' to 'Do', and from -this to 'Be'. A Mosaic code may attempt to regulate the specific acts -of life. Christianity says, 'Be ye perfect'. The effort to exhaust the -various special right acts is futile. They are not the same for any -two men, and they change constantly with the same man. The very words -which denote virtues come less and less to mean specific acts, and more -the spirit in which conduct occurs. Purity, for example, does not mean -freedom from certain limited outward forms of defilement; but comes -to signify rightness of natures as a whole, their freedom from all -self-seeking or exclusive desire for private pleasure, etc. Thus purity -of heart comes to mean perfect goodness. - -2. _Disinterestedness._ Any act, to be virtuous, must of course be -disinterested, but we may now connect this disinterestedness with the -integral nature of moral action just spoken of. Immoral action never -takes account of the whole nature of an end; it deflects the end to -some ulterior purpose; it bends it to the private satisfaction of the -agent; it takes a part of it by making exceptions in favor of self. Bad -action is never 'objective'. It is 'abstract'; it takes into account -only such portion of the act as satisfies some existing need of the -private self. The immoral man shows his partial character again by -being full of casuistries, devices by which he can get the act removed -from its natural placing and considered in some other light:--this -act, for example, _would_ be dishonest, of course, if done under -certain circumstances, but since I have certain praiseworthy feelings, -certain remote intentions, it may now be considered otherwise. It is a -large part of the badness of 'good' people that instead of taking the -whole act just as it is, they endeavor to make the natural feelings -in their own mind--feelings of charity, or benevolence--do substitute -duty for the end aimed at; they excuse wrong acts on the ground that -their 'intentions' were good, meaning by intentions the prevailing -mood of their mind. It is in this sense that 'hell is paved with good -intentions.' - -Now it is against this deflection, perversion and mutilating of the -act that disinterestedness takes its stand. Disinterested does not -mean without interest, but without interest in anything except _the -act itself_. The interest is not in the wonderful moods or sentiments -with which we do the act; it is not in some ulterior end to be gained -by it, or in some private advantage which it will bring, but in the -act itself--in the real and concrete relations involved. There is a -vague French saying that 'morality is the nature of things.' If this -phrase has a meaning it is that moral conduct is not a manifestation -of private feelings nor a search for some unattainable ideal, but -observance and reproduction of actual relations. And this is the mark -of a disinterested character. - - - - -CONCLUSION. - - -LXXII. - -The Practical End of Morality. - -Virtues, then, are cardinal, and character is integral, just in the -degree in which every want is a want of the whole man. So far as this -occurs, the burden of the moral struggle is transformed into freedom of -movement. There is no longer effort to bring the particular desire into -conformity with a law, or a universal, outside itself. The fitting -in of each special desire, as it arises, to the organism of character -takes place without friction, as a natural re-adjustment. There is not -constraint, but growth. On the other side, the attained character does -not tend to petrify into a fixed possession which resists the response -to needs that grow out of the enlarged environment. It is plastic to -new wants and demands; it does not require to be wrenched and wracked -into agreement with the required act, but moves into it, of itself. The -law is not an external ideal, but the principle of the movement. There -is the identity of freedom and law in the good. - -This union of inclination and duty in act is the practical end. All the -world's great reformers have set as their goal this ideal, which may be -termed either the freeing of wants, or the humanizing of the moral law. -It will help summarize our whole discussion, if we see how the theories -of hedonism and of Kant have endeavored to express this same goal. -Hedonism, indeed, has this identity for its fundamental principle. -It holds strongly to the idea of moral law immanent in human wants -themselves. But its error lies in taking this identity of desire and -the good, as a direct or immediate unity, while, in reality, it exists -only in and through activity; it is a unity which can be attained only -as the result of a process. It mistakes an ideal which is realized only -in action for bare fact which exists of itself. - -Hedonism, as represented by Spencer, recognizes, it is true, that -the unity of desire and duty is not an immediate or natural one; but -only to fall into the error of holding that the separation is due to -some external causes, and that when these are removed we shall have a -fixed millenium. As against this doctrine, we must recognize that the -difference between want and duty is always removed so far as conduct -is moral; that it is not an ideal in the sense of something to be -attained at some remote period, but an ideal in the sense of being -the very meaning of moral activity whenever and wherever it occurs. -The realizing of this ideal is not something to be sometime reached -once for all, but progress is itself the ideal. Wants are ever growing -larger, and thus freedom ever comes to have a wider scope (Sec. LXV). - -Kant recognizes that the identity of duty and inclination is not a -natural fact, but is the ideal. However, he understands by ideal -something which ought to be, but is not. Morality is ever a struggle -to get desire into unity with law, but a struggle doomed, by its very -conditions, not to succeed. The law is the straight line of duty, which -the asymptotic curve of desire may approximate, but never touch. An -earthly taint of pleasure-seeking always clings to our wants, and makes -of morality a striving which defeats itself. - -The theory that morality lies in the realization of individuality -recognizes that there is no direct, or natural, identity of desire and -law, but also recognizes that their identification is not an impossible -task. The problem is solved in the exercise of function, where the -desires, however, are not unclothed, but clothed upon. Flowing in the -channel of response to the demands of the moral environment, they -unite, at once, social service and individual freedom. - - -LXXIII. - -The Means of Moralization. - -This practical end of the unification of desire and duty, in the play -of moral interests, is reached, therefore, so far as the desires -are socialized. A want is socialized when it is not a want for its -own isolated and fixed satisfaction, but reflects the needs of the -environment. This implies, of course, that it is bound by countless -ties to the whole body of desires and capacities. The eye, in seeing -for itself, sees for the whole body, because it is not isolated but, -through its connections, an organ of a system. In this same way, the -satisfaction of a want for food, or for commercial activity, may -necessitate a satisfaction of the whole social system. - -But how shall this socialization of wants be secured? It is in -answering this question that we are brought again to a point already -discussed at length: the moral bearings of intelligence. It is -intelligence that is the sole sure means of taking a want out of the -isolation of merely impulsive action. It is the passing of the desire -through the alembic of ideas that, in rationalizing and spiritualizing -it, makes it an expression of the want of the whole man, and thus of -social needs. - -To know one's self was declared by Socrates, who first brought to -conscious birth the spirit of the moral life, to be the very core -of moral endeavor. This knowledge of self has taken, indeed, a more -circuitous and a more painful path, than Socrates anticipated. Man has -had, during two thousand years of science, to go around through nature -to find himself, and as yet he has not wholly come back to himself--he -oftentimes seems still lost in the wilderness of an outer world. But -when man does get back to himself it will be as a victor laden with the -spoils of subdued nature. Having secured, in theory and invention, his -unity with nature, his knowledge of himself will rest on a wide and -certain basis. - -This is the final justification of the moral value of science and art. -It is because through them wants are inter-connected, unified and -socialized, that they are, when all is said and done, the preėminent -moral means. And if we do not readily recognize them in this garb, -it is because we have made of them such fixed things, that is, such -abstractions, by placing them outside the movement of human life. - - - - -INDEX. - - - Absolute--and relative Ethics, according to Spencer 72. - - Accountability--See responsibility. - - Activity--human, the subject-matter of ethics 1 ff. - --the object of desire 21 ff. - --the standard of pleasure 45; 50. - --equals exercise of function 101. - --opposed to mere possession 209; 215; 218; 220. - --two sides of 219. - --see freedom. - - Ęsthetic feelings--may be moral 199. - --see art. - - Agent--moral, one capable of acting from ideas 3. - --see person. - - Alexander, S.--quoted: on idea of sum of pleasures 46. - --referred to: 9; 46; 77; 111; 134; 158; 165; 202; 216; 221; 227. - - Altruism--how identified with egoism 59. - --reconciled, by Spencer, with egoism 70 ff. - --conflicts, at present, with egoism 76. - --older moralists termed benevolence 195. - --not necessarily moral 107. - --not disguised selfishness 109. - --may equal charity 125. - - Amusements--moral nature of 133. - - Approbation--nature of 161. - - Aristotle--quoted: on pleasure 18; - on pleasure and character 29; - on the mean 136. - --referred to: 31. - - Art (and Science)--nature of interest in 111. - --distinction of fine and useful 112. - --interest in, why moral 113 ff. - --interest in, really social 118 ff. - --life an, 120. - --essentially dynamic 126. - - Asceticism--means formalism 94. - --element of truth in 95. - --results when interest is excluded 106. - - Aspiration--involved in morality 213; 222. - - Autonomy--Kant's conception of justified 149. - - - Badness--of environment a factor in right action 176; 224. - --its source and factors 214. - --its relation to goodness 223. - --potential and actual 223. - --of good people 232. - - Bain, A.--quoted: that pleasure is a self-evident criterion 16; - his definition of utilitarianism 53; - on obligation 140; 141. - --referred to: 17; 66; 227. - - Barratt--quoted: that all pleasure is individual 14. - - Baseness--why badness becomes 219. - - Benevolence--see altruism. - - Bentham, J.--quoted: pleasure both criterion and motive 15; - self-evident criterion 16; - all motives good 34 ff.; - hedonistic calculus 36 ff.; - identity of individual and general pleasure 57 ff.; - influence of law 59. - --referred to: 53. - - Birks--referred to: 66. - - Blackie, J. S.--referred to: 66. - - Bradley, F. H.--quoted: on pleasure and desire 21; - scientific interest not necessarily social 122; - on merely individual conscience 189. - --referred to: 25; 26; 42; 48; 54; 91; 124; 134; 165; 221. - - Browning, R.--referred to: 111. - - Butler--Bishop, quoted: on conscience 167. - --referred to: 110. - - - Caird, E.--quoted: on collision of moral ends 88. - --referred to: 21; 82; 87; 91; 92; 93; 95; 109; 111; 149; 165. - - Calderwood--referred to: 158; 166. - - Capacity--its relation to environment 97. - --increased by moral action 206. - - Carlyle, T.--referred to: 128. - - Casuistry--inevitable, if moral end is not wholly social 119. - - Character--reciprocal with conduct 9. - --the source of motive, desire and moral pleasure 26 ff. - --separated from conduct by hedonists 32 ff. - --and virtues 227 ff. - --see capacity, conduct, interests and motive. - - Charity--idea of, involves social inequality 125. - - Christianity--ethical influence of 224. - --has no specific ethical code 231. - - Coit, S.--referred to: 28; 66. - - Commands--moral value of: 203. - - Common Good--an ethical ideal 51. - --not furnished by hedonism 60. - --not furnished by Kant 91. - --why necessarily involved in morality 117; 217; 222. - --demands reciprocal satisfaction of individual and society 127. - --its existence postulated by moral conduct 130. - --results from exercise of function 168. - --constituted by activity 169 ff. - --realized in institutions 173. - --development of 210. - --see institutions and society. - - Comprehensiveness--growth of, in moral end 210 ff. - - Conduct--defined 3. - --relation to consequences 7. - --relation to character 9. - --an individual system 133. - --a social system 136. - --how related to character 163. - --see activity, consequences, character and motive. - - Conflict--of moral ends 88 ff. - --morality has an aspect of 151; 227. - - Conscience--Bain's idea of 141. - --equals consciousness of action 181. - --elements in 182. - --not a special faculty 183. - --kinds of 183 ff. - --not merely individual 188. - - Conscientiousness--nature of 199. - --does not equal introspection 200. - --nor application of code 201. - --a cardinal virtue 232. - - Consequences--moral value of 7 ff.; 84; 114; 160. - --excluded from morality by Kantianism 13; 29. - --identified with moral value by hedonism 33. - --responsibility for 160. - - Criterion--hedonistic is pleasure 15. - --criticism of hedonistic 31 ff. - --two ends to be met by every 32. - --of higher and lower pleasures 49 ff. - --when pleasure may be a 50. - --Mill's really social 63. - --Spencer's really social 73. - --Kant's nominally formal 79 ff. - --the real 132 ff. - --its elasticity 135. - - - Darwin, C.--referred to: 78. - - Demoralization--involved in badness 220. - - Desire--pleasure as end of 16; 18 ff. - --defined 19. - --how spiritualized 23. - --not purely pleasurable 27. - --an expression of character 28. - --excluded from moral motive by Kant 79. - --all or no involved in morality 94. - --relation to pleasure 83. - --particular, an abstraction 96. - --how distinguished from interest 103. - --opposed to reason by Kant 147. - --when opposed to moral action 148; 155; 213; 216. - --how socialized, 237. - - Dewey, J.--referred to: 25; 78; 194. - - Disinterestedness--equals full interest 107. - --an aspect of cardinal virtue 232. - - Disposition--Bentham on 35. - - Dualism--the Kantian 148 ff. - - Duty--see obligation. - - - Egoism--see altruism. - - Empiricism--Spencer's reconciliation with intuitionalism 69 ff. - - End--moral: see common good; function; motive. - - Environment--defined by relation to capacity 99 ff. - --meaning of adjustment to 115 ff. - --moral, exists in institutions 171. - --badness of, an element in right action 176; 190. - --enlarged by moral action 207. - - Ethical World--discussed 167 ff. - --nature illustrated 168. - --relation to moral law 174. - --see Institutions. - - Ethics--defined 1. - --divided 3. - --its object according to Spencer 68. - --see theory. - - Evolution, Theory of--combined with hedonism 67 ff. - --not really hedonistic 71 ff. - --its real standard objective 72. - - - Faith--a factor in moral progress 123; 127 ff. - --in humanity, meaning of 129. - --why demanded in moral action 217; 222. - - Feelings--natural and moral 5 ff.; 25 ff.; 87. - --sympathetic relied upon by utilitarians 57. - --necessary in moral activity 85. - --active, equal interests 102. - --moral, defined by end 108; - see also motive. - --value of 195 ff. - --moral, not too narrowly limited 199. - - Freedom--is object of desire 24. - --equals exercise of function 138. - --various aspects of 158. - --of choice defined 159. - --of indifference discussed 161 ff. - --actualized in rights 172; 174. - --positive, realized in virtues 229. - - Function--union of capacity and circumstance in act 103. - --freedom found in exercise of 164 ff. - - - Gizycki--referred to: 66. - - God--an external, cannot be the source of obligation 149. - - Goethe--referred to: 128. - - Golden Rule--identified by Mill with principle of utilitarianism 59. - --gives no directions as to conduct 204. - --is a concrete statement of ethical postulate 205. - - Green, T. H.--quoted: on desire and pleasure 21; - on sum of pleasures 43; - on nature of happiness 45; - on conscientiousness 200; 202; - on goodness 215. - --referred to: 9; 25; 42; 54; 110; 158; 165. - - Grote, J.--referred to: 66; 158. - - Guyau--referred to: 66; 143. - - - Hedonism--defined 14 ff. - --its paradox 25. - --confuses feeling and idea 26; 43 ff. - --summarized 30. - --all motives good 33. - --its calculus 36. - --fails to provide laws 39 ff. - --its contrast with Kantianism 82 ff. - --its treatment of obligation 140 ff. - --is correct in holding rightness to be pleasurable 228. - --truth and falsity in 234. - - Hegel--quoted: on reflective conscience 188; - on merely individual conscience 189. - - Hinton, J.--quoted: on altruism 109; - on badness 216. - --referred to: 202. - - Hodgson, S. H.--referred to: 14. - - - Idealism--when feeble 128. - - Ideals--moral, progressive, 206. - - Imperative, Categorical--of Kant 147. - --of conscience 191. - - Impulse--and pleasure 17. - --and desire 22. - --nature of action from 159. - --see desire. - - Individuality--defined 97. - --not identical with inner side alone 98. - --evils of defining from this standpoint 110. - --made by function 131. - --realized is autonomy 150. - --realized is freedom 164. - --growth in 210. - --see freedom and rights. - - Institutions--nature of 169 ff. - --sovereignty, rights and law inhere in 171 ff. - --influence of, upon conscience 184; 189. - --movement of, the source of duties, 194. - --see common good and society. - - Interests--are functions on personal side 102 ff. - --classified and discussed 104 ff. - --social, involve science and art 123 ff. - --realized in institutions 170. - --their relation to conscience 198. - --pure, are virtue 228. - --the active element of 218. - --the freeing of, the moral goal 233. - - - James, Sr., H.--referred to: 202. - - James, Wm.--quoted: on pleasure and desire 20. - --referred to: 77. - - - Kant--agrees with hedonism as to end of desire 79. - --his end an abstraction 84. - --his practical ideal that of Mill and Spencer 93. - --value of his theory 93. - --his theory of obligation 147. - --his conception of autonomy 149. - --his idea of duty 156. - --his conception of practical reason 191. - --quoted: on pleasure 47; - on pleasure as common good 52; - on priority of duty to good 78; - on good will 79; - his formula for right action 80; - illustrations of moral law 80 ff. - --referred to: 14; 78; 212; 221; 235. - - Kantianism--compared with hedonism 82 ff. - --its practical breakdown 90. - - Knowledge--moral effect of advance in 207. - --socializes wants 237. - --see art. - - - Laurie, S. S.--quoted: on happiness 66. - --referred to: 227. - - Law--utilitarian use of 58; 61 ff. - --Kant's moral, formal 78. - --relation to desire 94. - --realized in institutions 172; 174. - --of the 'is', not merely of the 'ought' 175. - --idea of, in general 195. - --see obligation. - - Lawlessness--involved in morality 216. - - Leckey--referred to: 66. - - Limitation--the basis of moral strength 128. - - Lincoln, A.--anecdote regarding 28. - - Lotze--referred to: 16; 166. - - Love--the union of duty and desire 154. - - - Martineau, J.--quoted: on the difficulty of the hedonistic calculus 38. - --referred to: 42; 78; 158; 166; 227. - - Maurice, F. D.--referred to: 191. - - Merit--means social desert 225. - - Mill, J. S.--criticizes Kant 91. - --his equivoke of pleasure and pleasant thing 20. - --his fallacy 56. - --introduces quality of pleasure into hedonism 42; 46. - --quoted: pleasure self-evident criterion 16; - end of desire 17; - on rules of morality 39 ff; - on moral tribunal 48; - on utilitarian standard 53; - on importance of law and education 59; - on social feeling 63 ff. - --referred to: 25; 30; 49. - - Morality--sphere of as broad as conduct 2; 154. - --not dependent upon an individual's wish 167 ff. - --realized in institutions 170. - --struggle for private, bad 202. - --in the nature of things 233. - - Motive--defined 5. - --two elements in 10. - --determined by character 28. - --never bad according to hedonism 33. - --formal and legislative according to Kant 80. - --not a subjective mood 232. - - - Norms--in philosophy 1. - - - Obligation--in conflict with pleasure 76 ff. - --how related to function 138. - --theories regarding 139. - --distinct from coercion 144. - --enforced, not created by power 145. - --Kantian idea of criticized 148. - --does not relate simply to what ought to be, but is not 151; 174 ff. - --relation to conscience 183. - --how made known 190 ff. - --practical value of sense of 196. - --must be individualized 197; 201. - --when opposed to desire 213; 216. - --the union with desire the moral ideal 234. - --see desire, law and universal. - - - Pater--referred to: 66. - - Pathological--all inclination, according to Kant 86. - --opposed to active 212. - - Paulsen--referred to: 67; 111. - - Person--is one capable of conduct 97. - - Pleasure--an element in activity 24. - --not the moving spring to action 26. - --sum of, dependent on objective conditions 44 ff. - --quality of, similarly dependent 47 ff. - --may symbolize action 51. - --general, a vague idea 62. - --fixed by social relations 65; 77. - --not a sufficient guide at present 75. - --dependent on self-realization 83. - --all right action involves 228. - --see desire and hedonism. - - Postulate--moral, defined 129 ff. - --equals Golden Rule 205. - - Problem--moral 3. - - Progress--necessary in moral action 135 ff. - --moral, nature of 209. - - Prudence--not outside moral sphere 105. - - - Reason--opposed to desire by Kant 147. - --Kant's conception too immediate 150. - --practical, idea of 191. - - Reformation--possibility of 162 ff. - - Relativity--of morals, means what 136. - - Responsibility--nature of 160 ff. - --of parents and children 203. - - Reverence--Kant regards as sole moral feeling 86. - - Rights--exist by common will 172. - - Rousseau--his influence upon Kant 148. - - Royce, J.--referred to: 61; 111. - - Rule--moral, not a command 204. - --a tool of analysis 204. - - - Satisfaction--moral, creates new wants 208. - --good and bad 217. - - Science--nature of interest in 111. - --the preėminent moral means 237. - --see art. - - Schurman, J. G.--referred to: 78. - - Self--interest in 105 ff. - --involves sympathy 109. - --dualism in self, how arises 216. - --knowledge of 237. - - Selfishness--involved in immorality 216. - - Self-sacrifice--its moral nature 222. - - Sentimentality--immoral 113. - --escape from, only through knowledge 120. - --results from abstract idea of duty 157. - --refined, equals sensuality 220. - - Shakespeare--quoted: on common good 131. - - Sidgwick, H.--quoted: on the hedonistic assumption 43; - on utilitarian standard 53; - on intuitional utilitarianism 54. - --referred to: 14; 16; 18; 66; 111; 227. - - Society--its moral influence 146; 157. - --its relation to obligation 152. - --constituted by moral relationships 175. - --development of, changes moral ideals 207. - --see common good, institutions. - - Socrates--author of idea of reflective conscience 188. - --initiator of modern ethical spirit 237. - - Sorley--referred to: 78; 111. - - Sovereignty--exists in common will and good 171. - --ultimate possessed in humanity 173. - - Spencer, H.--believes in fixed social ideal 73 ff.; 235. - --quoted: on pleasure as a necessary effect 68; - not immediate object of desire 69; - egoism and altruism 70 ff.; - on ideal man 73; - equilibrium of functions 74; - on obligation 142; 143. - --referred to: 16; 67; 72; 73; 74; 75; 76; 111; 125; 235. - - Stephen, L.--quoted: on feeling as universal motive 27; - on sympathy 109 ff. - --referred to: 16; 25; 67; 68; 78; 111; 165; 227. - - Struggle--when morality is a 212. - --changed by Christianity into movement 225. - --see conflict. - - Sully, J.--referred to: 17. - - - Theory--ethical and conduct 1. - --ethical, sub-divided 13. - --ethical, not casuistry 89. - --value of 186. - - - Universal--a, lacking in hedonism 37. - --Kant's emphasis of 80. - --Kant's, formal 80; 85; 90. - --Kant's, leads to conflict 87. - --true, equals organization, 88; 90; 96. - --bad action cannot be 221. - --means a method, not a thing 136. - --found in movement of character 234. - --see law. - - Utilitarianism--is universalistic hedonism 13; 53. - --defined by Mill, Sidgwick, Bain, 53. - --criticized 54 ff. - --assumes social order 63 ff. - --combined with evolution 67. - - - Virtue--change in nature of 211. - --correlative to duty 225. - --distinguished from merit 226. - --is an interest of character 228. - --two types of 229. - --cardinal 230. - - - Wants--see desires. - - Wilson (and Fowler)--referred to: 67. - - Will--Kant's good will 79. - - - - -TRANSCRIBER'S CORRECTIONS - - - page original text correction - 17 endquote missing are one and the same thing." - 20 want simply sweat-meats; want simply sweet-meats; - 24 so that it becoms one factor so that it becomes one factor - 35 unless as a sort of suprise unless as a sort of surprise - 38 but the the most conscientious but the most conscientious - 38 cicumstances were such as circumstances were such as - 42 sum of pleasnres sum of pleasures - 47 this agreableness is. this agreeableness is. - 68 Science of Ehtics, ch. IX. Science of Ethics, ch. IX. - 74 endquote missing "members of a society" - 83 of well as of hedonism as well as of hedonism - 92 without expressily giving up without expressly giving up - 124 ordinary chords and and tunes, ordinary chords and tunes, - 156 just what what morality demands just what morality demands - 183 LVIX. LIX. - 192 seems quite superflous seems quite superfluous - 251 entry Society missing from index in original - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Outlines of a Critical Theory of Ethics, by -John Dewey - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OUTLINES OF CRITICAL THEORY OF ETHICS *** - -***** This file should be named 60422-8.txt or 60422-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/0/4/2/60422/ - -Produced by The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at -http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images -generously made available by The Internet Archive/American -Libraries.) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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