{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_12492/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_12492","id":"gutenberg_12492","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/12492","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Ethics"],"text":"RECENT TENDENCIES IN ETHICS\n\nThree Lectures to Clergy Given at Cambridge\n\nBY\n\nW. R. SORLEY, M.A. HON. LL.D. EDIN.\n\nKnightbridge Professor of Moral Philosophy\n\nMCMIV\n\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE\n\n\nThese lectures were given to a summer meeting of clergy, held at\nCambridge in the month of July last. Some passages have been added as\nthey were written out for the press, and the crudities of the spoken\nword have, I hope, been pruned away; but, in other respects, the\noriginal plan of the lectures has been retained. They are now\npublished in the hope that they may prove of interest to those who\nheard them, and to others who may desire an account, in short compass\nand in popular form, of some leading features of the ethical thought\nof the present day.\n\nIt is inevitable for such an account to be controversial: otherwise it\ncould not give a true picture of contemporary opinion. Intellectual\nand social causes have conspired to accentuate traditional differences\nin ethics, and to make the questions in dispute penetrate to the very\nheart of morality. It has been my aim to trace the new influences\nwhich are at work, and to estimate the value of the ethical doctrines\nto which they have seemed to lead. The estimate has taken the form of\na criticism, but the criticism is in the interests of construction.\n\nW.R. SORLEY.\n\nCAMBRIDGE, 7th March, 1904.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n  I. CHARACTERISTICS\n II. ETHICS AND EVOLUTION\nIII. ETHICS AND IDEALISM\n\nINDEX\n\n\n\n\n\n\nI.\n\nCHARACTERISTICS.\n\n\nA survey of ethical thought, especially English ethical thought,\nduring the last century would have to lay stress upon one\ncharacteristic feature. It was limited in range,--limited, one may\nsay, by its regard for the importance of the facts with which it\nhad to deal. The thought of the period was certainly not without\ncontroversy; it was indeed controversial almost to a fault. But\nthe controversies of the time centred almost exclusively round two\nquestions: the question of the origin of moral ideas, and the question\nof the criterion of moral value. These questions were of course\ntraditional in the schools of philosophy; and for more than a century\nEnglish moralists were mainly occupied with inherited topics of\ndebate. They gave precision to the questions under discussion; and\ntheir controversies defined the traditional opposition of ethical\nopinion, and separated moralists into two hostile schools known as\nUtilitarian and Intuitionist.\n\nAs regards the former question--that of the origin of moral ideas--the\nUtilitarian School held that they could be traced to experience; and\nby 'experience' they meant in the last resort sense-perceptions\nand the feelings of pleasure and of pain which accompany or follow\nsense-perception. All the facts of our moral consciousness,\ntherefore,--the knowledge of right and wrong, the judgments of\nconscience, the recognition of duty and responsibility, the feelings\nof reverence, remorse, and moral indignation,--all these could be\ntraced, they thought, to an origin in experience, to an origin which\nin the last resort was sensuous, that is, due to the perceptions of\nthe senses and the feelings of pleasure and pain which accompany or\nfollow them.\n\nWith regard to the criterion or standard of morality,--the second\nquestion to which I have to call attention,--they held that the\ndistinction between right and wrong depended upon the consequences of\nan action in the way of pleasure and pain. That action was right which\non the whole and in the long run would bring pleasure or happiness to\nthose whom it affected: that action was wrong which on the whole and\nin the long run would bring pain rather than pleasure to those whom it\naffected.\n\nFrom their view as to the origin of moral ideas, the school might more\nproperly be called the Empirical School. It is from their views on the\nquestion of the standard of value, or the criterion of morality, that\nit claimed, and that it received, the name Utilitarian[1]. On both\nthese points the Utilitarian School was opposed by an energetic but\nless compact body of writers, known as Intuitionists.\n\n[Footnote 1: It seems to have been through J.S. Mill's influence\nthat the term obtained currency. It was used by him as the name of a\n\"little society to be composed of young men agreeing in fundamental\nprinciples\" which he formed in the winter of 1822-23. He \"did not\ninvent the word, but found in one of Galt's novels, the 'Annals of the\nParish.'\" \"With a boy's fondness for a name and a banner I seized\non the word, and for some years called myself and others by it as\na sectarian appellation\" ('Autobiography,' pp. 79, 80; cf.\n'Utilitarianism,' p. 9 n.) A couple of sentences from Galt may be\nquoted: \"As there was at the time a bruit and a sound about universal\nbenevolence, philanthropy, utility, and all the other disguises with\nwhich an infidel philosophy appropriated to itself the charity,\nbrotherly love, and well-doing inculcated by our holy religion, I set\nmyself to task upon these heads.... With well-doing, however, I went\nmore roundly to work. I told my people that I thought they had more\nsense than to secede from Christianity to become Utilitarians, for\nthat it would be a confession of ignorance of the faith they deserted,\nseeing that it was the main duty inculcated by our religion to do all\nin morals and manners to which the new-fangled doctrine of utility\npretended.\" Mill is wrong in supposing that his use of the term \"was\nthe first time that any one had taken the title of Utilitarian\"; and\nGalt, who represents his annalist as writing of the year 1794,\nis historically justified. Writing in 1781 Bentham uses the word\n'utilitarian,' and again in 1802 he definitely asserts that it is the\nonly name of his creed ('Works,' x. 92, 392). M. Hal\u00e9vy ('L'\u00e9volution\nde la doctrine utilitaire,' p. 300) draws attention to the presence of\nthe word in Jane Austen's 'Sense and Sensibility,' published in 1811.]\n\nThe Intuitionists maintained--to put the matter briefly--that the\nmoral consciousness of man could not be entirely accounted for by\nexperiences of the kind laid stress on by the Utilitarians. They\nmaintained that moral ideas were in their origin spiritual, although\nthey might be called into definite consciousness by the experience of\nthe facts to which they could be applied. Experience might call them\nforth into the light of day; but it was held that they belonged, in\nnature and origin, to the constitution of man's mind. On this ground,\ntherefore, the school was properly called Intuitional: they held that\nmoral ideas were received by direct vision or intuition, as it were,\nnot by a process of induction from particular facts.\n\nAnd, in the second place, with regard to the criterion of morality,\nthat also (they held) was not dependent on the consequences in the\nway of happiness and misery which the Utilitarians emphasised. On the\ncontrary, moral ideas themselves had an independent validity; they had\na worth and authority for conduct which could not be accounted for by\nany consequences in which action resulted: belonging as they did to\nthe essence of the human spirit, they also had authority over the\nconduct of man's life.\n\nNow the ethical controversies of last century were almost entirely\nabout these two points and between these two opposed schools. No doubt\nthe two questions thus discussed did go very near to the root of the\nwhole matter. They pointed to the consideration of the question of\nman's place in the universe and his spiritual nature as determining\nthe part which it was his to play in the world. They suggested, if\nthey did not always raise, the question whether man is entirely a\nproduct of nature or whether he has a spiritual essence to which\nnature may be subdued. But the larger issues suggested were not\nfollowed out. Common consent seemed to limit the discussion to the two\nquestions described; and this limitation of the controversy tended to\na precision and clearness in method, which is often wanting in the\nethical thought of the present day, disturbed as it is by new and more\nfar-reaching problems.\n\nThis limitation of scope, which I venture to select as the leading\ncharacteristic of last century's ethical enquiries, may be further\nseen in the large amount of agreement between the two schools\nregarding the content of morality. The Utilitarians no more than\nthe Intuitionists were opponents of the traditional--as we may call\nit--the Christian morality of modern civilisation. They both adopted\nand defended the well-recognised virtues of truth and justice, of\ntemperance and benevolence, which have been accepted by the common\ntradition of ages as the expression of man's moral consciousness. The\nIntuitionists no doubt were sometimes regarded--they may indeed have\nsometimes regarded themselves--as in a peculiar way the guardians of\nthe traditional morality, and as interested more than their opponents\nin defending a view in harmony with man's spiritual essence and\ninheritance. But we do not find any attack upon the main content\nof morality by the Utilitarian writers. On the contrary, they were\ninterested in vindicating their own full acceptance of the traditional\nmorality. This is, in particular, the case with John Stuart Mill, the\nhigh-minded representative of the Utilitarian philosophy in the middle\nof last century. \"In the golden rule of Jesus of Nazareth,\" he says,\n\"we read the complete spirit of the ethics of utility. To do as one\nwould be done by, and to love one's neighbour as oneself, constitute\nthe ideal perfection of utilitarian morality.\"[1]\n\n[Footnote 1: Utilitarianism, 9th ed., pp. 24, 25.]\n\nNo doubt Mill was a practical reformer as well as a philosophical\nthinker, and he wished on certain special points to revise the\naccepted code. He says that \"the received code of ethics is by no\nmeans of divine right, that mankind has still much to learn as to the\neffects of actions on the general happiness.\"[1] He would even take\nthis point--the modifiability of the ordinary moral code--as a sort\nof test question distinguishing his own system from that of the\nintuitional moralists; and in one place he says that \"the contest\nbetween the morality which appeals to an external standard, and\nthat which grounds itself on internal conviction, is the contest\nof progressive morality against stationary--of reason and argument\nagainst the deification of mere opinion and habit. The doctrine that\nthe existing order of things is the natural order, and that, being\nnatural, all innovation upon it is criminal, is as vicious in morals\nas it is now at last admitted to be in physics and in society and\ngovernment.\"[2]\n\n[Footnote 1: Ibid., p. 35.]\n\n[Footnote 2: Dissertations, ii. 472.]\n\nA passage such as this leads us to ask, What exactly is the extent of\nthe modifications which Mill seeks to make in the ordinary scale of\nvalues? Does he, for instance, wish to invert any ordinary moral\nrules? Would he do away with, or in any important respect modify, the\nduties of truth or justice, temperance or benevolence? Far from it He\nonly suggests, as many moralists of both parties have suggested, that\nin the application of moral law to the details of experience certain\nmodifications are required. How far he goes in this direction may be\nseen from his own instance, that of truth. He would admit certain\nexceptions to the law of truth; he would give the less rigorous\nanswers to the time-honoured questions as to whether one should tell\nthe truth to an invalid in a dangerous illness or to a would-be\ncriminal. But Mill always asserts the sanctity of the general\nprinciple; and, on this account, he holds that \"in order that the\nexception may not extend itself beyond the need, and may have the\nleast possible effect in weakening reliance on veracity, it ought\nto be recognised and, if possible, its limits defined; and if the\nprinciple of utility is good for anything, it must be good for\nweighing these conflicting utilities against one another, and marking\nout the region within which one or the other preponderates[1].\" He\nholds that there are such limits to veracity. He even thinks--though\nhere he is not quite correct--that such limits have been acknowledged\nby all moralists[2]. He would have been correct if he had said that\nthey had been acknowledged by moralists of all schools: the admission\nof these limits is not peculiar to Utilitarians. But he vigorously\ndefends the validity of the general rule, and maintains that, in\nconsidering any possible exception, we have to take account not merely\nof the present utility of the falsehood, but of its effect upon the\nsanctity of the general principle in the minds of men. The Utilitarian\ndoctrine is expressly used by him to confirm the ordinary general laws\nof the moral consciousness. Nay, these rules--such as the duties of\nbeing temperate and just and benevolent--were, according to Mill,\nthemselves the result of experiences of utility on the part of our\npredecessors, and from them handed down to us by the tradition of the\nrace. No doubt in this Mill is applying a theoretical view too easily\nto a question of history. It is one thing to maintain, as he does,\nthat utility is the correct test of morality; it is another thing\naltogether to say that our ordinary moral rules are the records or\nexpressions of earlier judgments of utility. The former statement\nis made as a controversial statement which is admitted to be so\nfar doubtful that most men need to be convinced of it. The latter\nstatement could only be true if nobody had ever doubted the former--if\neverybody in past ages had accepted utility as the standard of\nmorality. But, for our present purpose, his attitude to this question\nis of interest only as bringing out the point that the different\nschools of ethical thought during last century had a large basis of\ncommon agreement, and that this basis of common agreement was their\nacknowledgment of the validity of the moral rules recognised by the\nordinary conscience.\n\n[Footnote 1: Utilitarianism, p. 34.]\n\n[Footnote 2: Ibid., p. 33.]\n\nThe Utilitarians no more than the Intuitionists sought to make\nany fundamental change in the content of right and of wrong as\nacknowledged by modern society. Their controversies were almost\nentirely of what may be called an academic kind, and, however decided,\nwould have little effect upon a man's practical attitude. But it would\nnot be possible to make any such confident assertion regarding the\nethical controversies of the present day. We have no longer the same\ncommon basis of agreement to rely upon that our predecessors had a\ngeneration ago. There are many indications in recent literature that\nthe suggestion is now made more readily than it was twenty or thirty\nyears ago that the scale of moral values may have to be revised; and\nit seems to me that the ethical controversies of the coming generation\nwill not be restricted to academic opponents whose disputes concern\nnothing more than the origin of moral ideas and their ultimate\ncriterion. Modern controversy will involve these questions, but it\nwill go deeper and it will spread its results wider: it appears as\nif it would not hesitate to call in question the received code of\nmorality, and to revise our standard of right and wrong. One school at\nany rate has already made a claim of this sort, and the extravagance\nof its teaching has not prevented it from attracting adherents.\n\nIt is on this ground, therefore,--because I believe that the ethical\nquestion is no longer so purely an academic question as it was some\nyears ago, because it affects not only the philosophic thinker but the\npractical man who is concerned with the problems of his day,--that I\nhave selected the topic for these lectures. It is not merely that many\nmodern writers assert some general doctrine as to the relativity of\nright and wrong. So much was implied, though it was not much laid\nstress upon, in the utilitarian doctrine. For the utilitarian conduct\nis right according to the amount of happiness it produces: goodness\nis relative to its tendency to produce happiness. But a much greater\nimportance may attach to the assertion of the relativity of morals\nwhen one couples that doctrine with the idea now prevalent of the\nindefinitely great changes which the progress of the race brings\nabout, not only in the social order but also in the structure and\nfaculties of man himself.\n\nHence it is not surprising to find that there are at the present day\nsome writers who ask for nothing less than a revision of the whole\ntraditional morality, and in whose minds that demand is connected with\nthe dominant doctrine of progress as it is expressed in the theory of\nevolution.\n\nPerhaps we might trace the beginnings of this controversy as to the\ncontent of what is right and what is wrong to an older opposition\nin ethical thought, an opposition which especially affects the\nutilitarian doctrine--the controversy of Egoism and Altruism. If\nwe look at these two conceptions of egoism and altruism as the\nUtilitarians did, if we regard the conception of egoism as having\nto do with one's own personal happiness, and that of altruism as\ndescribing the general happiness, the happiness of others rather than\nof oneself, then obviously the questions arise whether the conduct\nwhich produces the greatest happiness of others will or will not also\nproduce the greatest happiness of the individual agent, and which\nshould be chosen in the event of their disagreement. Is my happiness\nand that which will tend to it always to be got on the same lines of\nconduct as those which will bring about the greatest happiness of the\ngreatest number?\n\nThe Utilitarian writers of last century were of course conscious of\nthis problem, conscious that there was a possible discrepancy between\negoistic conduct and altruistic conduct; but they agreed to lay stress\nupon altruistic results as determining moral quality. Their tendency\nwas to minimise the difference between the egoistic and the altruistic\neffects of action, and in so far as a difference had to be allowed to\nemphasise the importance of the claims of the community at large, that\nis, roughly speaking, to take the altruistic standpoint. Recent and\nmore careful investigators have brought out more exactly the extent\nand significance of the divergence. In particular this was done with\nperfect clearness and precision by the late Professor Sidgwick.\nHe showed that the difference--although it might be easily\nexaggerated--was yet real and important, that the two systems did not\nmean the same thing, that we could not rely upon altruistic conduct\nalways being for individual benefit, that there was no 'natural\nidentity' between egoism and altruism. He held that morality, to\nsave it from an unsolved dualism, required a principle capable of\nreconciling the discrepancy between the conduct in accordance with the\naxiom of Benevolence and the conduct in accordance with the equally\nrational axiom of Self-love.[1]\n\n[Footnote 1: Professor Sidgwick's last words on the question are as\nfollows: \"If then the reconciliation of duty and self-interest is to\nbe regarded as a hypothesis logically necessary to avoid a fundamental\ncontradiction in one chief department of our thought, it remains\nto ask how far this necessity constitutes a sufficient reason for\naccepting this hypothesis.... Those who hold that the edifice of\nphysical science is really constructed of conclusions logically\ninferred from self-evident premises, may reasonably demand that any\npractical judgments claiming philosophic certainty should be based on\nan equally firm foundation. If, on the other hand, we find that in our\nsupposed knowledge of the world of nature propositions are commonly\ntaken to be universally true, which yet seem to rest on no other\ngrounds than that we have a strong disposition to accept them, and\nthat they are indispensable to the systematic coherence of our\nbeliefs,--it will be more difficult to reject a similarly supported\nassumption in ethics, without opening the door to universal\nscepticism\" ('Methods of Ethics,' 6th ed., pp. 506, 507).]\n\nBut while this question of egoism and altruism has thus been\nrecognised as a possible source of perplexity, affecting the ethical\nstandard itself, both egoists and orthodox utilitarians have commonly\nagreed--though for different reasons--to insist that morality means\nthe same for them both, and to hold with Epicurus that \"we cannot lead\na life of pleasure which is not also a life of prudence, honour, and\njustice.\" It is only in quite recent days that a thoroughgoing attempt\nhas been made to revalue all the old standards of morality. And\nthe attempt is made from a point of view which is certainly not\naltruistic. The Utilitarian writers of last generation, if they\nadmitted the conflict of egoism and altruism, weighted every\nconsideration on the side of altruism. They emphasised therefore the\nagreement between their own utilitarian doctrine and the Christian\nmorality in which altruism is fundamental. On the other hand, the more\nrecent tendency to which I refer emphasises and exalts the egoistic\nside, and thus accentuates the difference between the new moral\ncode--if we may call it moral--and the Christian morality.\n\nThe boldest and most brilliant exponent of this tendency is Friedrich\nNietzsche[1], already the object of a cult in Germany, and an author\nto be reckoned with as one of the new forces in European thought. It\nis true that some of the most characteristic products of his genius\nare closely akin to the insanity which clouded his later years. Yet it\nis impossible to read his writings without recognising his penetrating\ninsight as well as his abundance of virile passion. Besides, in\nspite of all his extravagances--or, perhaps, because of them--he is\nsymptomatic of certain tendencies of the age. Nietzsche's demand\nis for nothing less than a revision of the whole moral code and a\nreversal of its most characteristic provisions. And he has the rare\ndistinction of being a writer on morality who disclaims the title of\n'moralist.'\n\n[Footnote 1: Friedrich Nietzsche, the son of a clergyman, was born in\nSaxony in 1844. In 1869 he became Professor of Classical Philology\nin Basel, and held this post for ten years, though his work was\ninterrupted by ill-health for a long period. His first book was\npublished in 1871; the preface to the last was dated \"on the 30th of\nSeptember 1888, the day on which the first book of the Transvaluation\nof all Values was completed.\" He became hopelessly insane in 1889, and\ndied in 1900. The reader will find a luminous estimate of his work\nin the essay on \"The Life and Opinions of Friedrich Nietzsche\" in\nPringle-Pattison's 'Man's Place in the Cosmos,' 2nd ed., 1902.]\n\nThe ideas which Nietzsche expresses go to the root of the matter. In\nthe first place, he drew a distinction between what he regarded as two\ndifferent types of morality. One of these he called the morality of\nmasters or nobles, and he called the other the morality of slaves.\nSelf-reliance and courage may be cited as the qualities typical of the\nnoble morality, for they are the qualities which tend to make the man\nwho possesses them a master over others, to give him a prominent and\npowerful place in the world, and to help him to subjugate to his will\nboth nature and his fellow-men. On the other hand, there are the\nqualities which form the characteristic features of Christian\nmorality--such as benevolence or love of one's neighbour, the\nfundamental precept of the Gospels, and the humility and obedience\nwhich have been perhaps unduly emphasised in ecclesiastical ethics.\nThese are the qualities which he means when he speaks of the morality\nof the slave.\n\nIn the second place, therefore, what is distinctive of Nietzsche is\nthis: that he explicitly rejects the Christian morality, in particular\nthe virtues of benevolence, of obedience, of humility: these are\nregarded by him as belonging to a type of morality which is to be\novercome and which he calls the servile morality. He deliberately sets\nin antithesis to one another what he calls Christian and what he calls\nnoble virtues: meaning by the latter the qualities allied to courage,\nforce of will, and strength of arm, such as were manifested in certain\nPagan races, but above all in the heroes of the Roman Republic. He\nwould, therefore, deliberately prefer the older Pagan valuation of\nconduct to the Christian valuation.\n\nIn the third place, he attempts what he calls a transvaluation of\nall values. Every moral idea needs revision, every moral idea, every\nsuggestion of value or worth in conduct, must be tried and tested\nafresh, and a new morality substituted for the old. And with this\nclaim for revision is connected his idea that the egoistic principle\nwhich underlies the Pagan virtues preferred to the Christian, and the\nhigher development of the self-capacities to which it will lead, will\nevolve a superior kind of men--\"Over-men\" or \"Uebermenschen\"--to whom,\ntherefore, we may look as setting the tone and giving the rule for\nsubsequent conduct.\n\nNietzsche is an unsystematic writer, though none the less powerful on\nthat account. He is apt to be perplexing to the reader who looks for\nsystem or a definite and reasoned statement of doctrine; but his\naphorisms are all the more fitted to impress readers who are not\ninclined to criticism, and might shirk an elaborate argument. It is\ndifficult, accordingly, to select from him a series of propositions\nthat would give a general idea of the complete transmutation of\nmorality which he demands. So far as I can make out, there is only one\npoint in which he still agrees with the old traditional morality, and\nthat point seems to cause him no little difficulty. No thinker can\nafford to question the binding nature of the law of Truth, least of\nall a thinker so obviously in earnest about his own prophetic message\nas Nietzsche was. All his investigations presuppose the validity of\nthis law for his own thought; all his utterances imply an appeal to\nit; and his influence depends on the confidence which others have in\nhis veracity. And on this one point only Nietzsche has to confess\nhimself a child of the older morality. \"This book,\" he says in the\npreface to one of the least paradoxical of his works, 'Dawn of Day,'\n\"This book ... implies a contradiction and is not afraid of it: in it\nwe break with the faith in morals--why? In obedience to morality! Or\nwhat name shall we give to that which passes therein? We should prefer\nmore modest names. But it is past all doubt that even to us a 'thou\nshalt' is still speaking, even we still obey a stern law above us--and\nthis is the last moral precept which impresses itself even upon\nus, which even we obey: in this respect, if in any, we are still\nconscientious people--viz., we do not wish to return to that which we\nconsider outlived and decayed, to something 'not worthy of belief,' be\nit called God, virtue, truth, justice, charity; we do not approve of\nany deceptive bridges to old ideals, we are radically hostile to all\nthat wants to mediate and to amalgamate with us; hostile to any actual\nreligion and Christianity; hostile to all the vague, romantic, and\npatriotic feelings; hostile also to the love of pleasure and want of\nprinciple of the artists who would fain persuade us to worship when we\nno longer believe--for we are artists; hostile, in short, to the whole\nEuropean Femininism (or Idealism, if you prefer this name), which\nis ever 'elevating' and consequently 'degrading.' Yet, as such\nconscientious people, we immoralists and atheists of this day still\nfeel subject to the German honesty and piety of thousands of years'\nstanding, though as their most doubtful and last descendants; nay, in\na certain sense, as their heirs, as executors of their inmost will, a\npessimist will, as aforesaid, which is not afraid of denying itself,\nbecause it delights in taking a negative position. We ourselves\nare--suppose you want a formula--the consummate self-dissolution of\nmorals.\" [1]\n\n[Footnote 1: Nietzsche, 'Werke,' iv. pp. 8, 9 (1899). The translation\nis taken (with corrections) from the English version by Johanna Volz\n(1903). Nietzsche has so shocked and confused the English printer that\nwhen the author writes himself an 'immoralist' the compositor has\nmade him call himself an 'immortalist.' And errors of the sort do not\naffect the printer only. Nietzsche's sneer at 'Femininism' is deftly\nturned aside by Miss Volz, by the simple device of substituting for\nit the word Pessimism. And Dr Tille, the translator of his best-known\nwork, 'Thus spake Zarathustra' (1896, p. xix), has been bemused in\nan even more wonderful manner. He enumerates \"the best known\nrepresentatives\" of Anarchic tendencies in political thought as\n\"Humboldt, Dunoyer, Stirner, Bakounine, and Auberon Spencer\"! The\nvision of Mr Auberon Herbert and Mr Herbert Spencer doubled up into a\nsingle individual is 'a thing imagination boggles at.' Perhaps it is\nthe translator's idea of the _Uebermensch_.]\n\nPerhaps it is impossible to understand Nietzsche unless one admits\nthat his writings show traces of the disease which very soon prevented\nhis writing at all. But at the same time, while that is true, there is\nmuch more in his work than the ravings of a distempered mind. There\nmay have been little method, but there was a great deal of genius, in\nhis madness. While he always overstates his case,--his colossal egoism\nleads him to exaggerate any doctrine,--and while I do not think that\nthe actual doctrines of Nietzsche in the way he puts them will ever\ngain any general acceptance, while his system of morality may not have\nany chance of being the moral code of the next generation or even of\nbeing regarded as the serious alternative to Christian morality, yet\nit is not too much to say that he is symptomatic of a new tendency in\nethical thought, a tendency of which he is the greatest, if also the\nmost extravagant exponent, but which has its roots in certain new\ninfluences which have come to this generation with the ideas and the\ntriumphs, scientific and material, of the preceding generation.\n\nThere are two quite different kinds of influence to which the\nformation of an ethical doctrine may be due. In the first place, there\nare the moral sentiments and opinions of the community and of the\nmoralist himself; and, in the second place, there are the scientific\nand philosophical doctrines accepted by the writer or inspiring what\nis loosely called the spirit of the time. In most ethical movements\nthe two kinds of influence will be found co-operating, though the\nlatter is almost entirely absent in some cases. The incoherence of\npopular opinions about morality is a potent stimulus to reflexion, and\nmay of itself give rise to systematic ethical enquiry. This is more\nparticularly the case when a change of social conditions, or contact\nwith alien modes of life, force into light the inadequacy of the\nconventional morality. In such a case the new ethical reflexion may\nhave a disintegrating effect upon the traditional code, and give\nto the movement the character and importance of a revolution. The\nreflective activity of the Sophists in ancient Greece--a movement of\nthe deepest ethical significance--was in the main of this nature.\nIt consisted in a radical sifting and criticism of current moral\nstandards, and was due almost entirely to the first class of\ninfluences, being affected only in the slightest degree by scientific\nor philosophical ideas.\n\nInfluences of the same kind combine with science and philosophy in\nmoulding the ethical thought of the present day. Contemporary ethical\nspeculation is by no means exclusively due to the thinkers who attempt\nto arrive at a consistent interpretation of the nature of reality; and\nit has features which constantly remind us how closely moral reflexion\nis connected with the order and changes of social conditions.\n\nEvery age is no doubt apt to exaggerate its own claims to mark an\nepoch. But, after a century of achievements in applied science, there\nseems little risk of error in asserting that the world is now becoming\nconscious as it never was before of the vast power given by material\nresources when under the control of a cool intelligence. And in the\ncompetition of nations it is not surprising that there should be an\nimperious demand for the most alert and well-trained minds to utilise\nthese resources in war and in industry. It is not surprising; nor\nwould it be a fit subject for regret, did not the concentration of the\noutlook upon material success tend to the neglect of 'things which\nare more excellent.' Writing many years ago J.S. Mill remarked that\n\"hitherto it is questionable if all the mechanical inventions yet made\nhave lightened the day's toil of any human being.\" [1]\n\n[Footnote 1: Political Economy, Book iv. chap. vi. \u00a7 2.]\n\nThere is a further question which ought to be asked of every new\nadvance in material civilisation, Does it foster, or at least does\nit leave unimpeded, the development of man's spiritual inheritance?\nCertainly, the control of nature by mind is not necessarily hostile\nto the ideals which give dignity to the arts and sciences and to man\nhimself. And yet it does not always favour their presence. The weak\nnations of the world in arms and commerce have contributed their full\nshare to the higher life of the race; and the triumphs of a country on\nthe battlefield or in business give no security for the presence among\nits people of the ideals which illumine or of the righteousness which\nexalts. The history of Germany herself might point the moral. A\ncentury ago, when she lay crushed beneath the heel of Napoleon, her\npoets and philosophers were the prophets of ideals which helped to\nbind her scattered states into a powerful nation, and which enriched\nthe mind of man. To-day we are forced to ask whether military and\nindustrial success have changed the national bent: for poetry seems\nto have deserted her, and her philosophy betrays the dominance of\nmaterial interests.\n\nMaterial success and the struggle for it are apt to monopolise the\nattention; and perhaps the greatest danger of the new social order\nis the growing materialisation of the mental outlook. It would\nbe needless to point to the evidence, amongst all classes in the\nmercantile nations, of the feverish haste to be rich and to enjoy. For\nto point to this has been common with the moralists of all ages. This\nage like others--perhaps more than most--is strewn with the victims of\nthe struggle. But it can also boast a product largely its own--the new\nrace of victors who have emerged triumphant, with wealth beyond the\ndreams of avarice of the past generation. Their interests make them\ncosmopolitan; they are unrestrained by the traditional obligations of\nancient lineage; and the world seems to lie before them as something\nto be bought and sold. Neither they nor others have quite realised as\nyet the power which colossal wealth gives in modern conditions. And it\nremains to be seen whether the multimillionaire will claim to figure\nas Nietzsche's 'over-man,' spurning ordinary moral conventions, and\nwill play the _r\u00f4le_, in future moral discourses, which the ethical\ndialogues of Plato assign to the 'tyrant,'\n\nGeneral literature, even in its highest forms, seems to reflect a\ncorresponding change of view as to what is of most worth in life.\nAlready the strong hold on duty and the spiritual world which Tennyson\nunfalteringly displayed, even the deeper insight into motive and the\nfaith in goodness which are shown by Browning, are read by us as\nutterances of a past age. We have grown used to a presentment of human\nlife such as Ibsen's in which the customary morality is regarded as\na thin veneer of convention which hardly covers the selfishness in\ngrain, or to the description of life as a tangled mass of animal\npassions,--a description which, in spite of the genius of Zola, does\nnot fail to weary and disgust,--or perhaps as only a spectacle in\nwhich what men call good and evil are the light and shade of a picture\nwhich may serve to produce some artistic emotion. An attitude akin\nto these becomes an ethical point of view in Nietzsche, the _enfant\nterrible_ of modern thought, who maintains that man's life must be\ninterpreted physiologically only and not spiritually, and who would\nreplace philanthropy by a boundless egoism.\n\nInfluences of the second kind are usually more prominent than the\npreceding in the case of the philosophical moralist, and they are\nnot always avoided by the moralist who boasts his independence of\nphilosophy. The former influences are more constantly at work: they\nsupply the facts for all ethical reflexion. Ethical thought is not\nso uniformly influenced by the conceptions arrived at in science\nor philosophy. But there are certain periods of history in which\nconceptions regarding the truth of things--whether arrived at by\nscientific methods or not--have had a profound influence upon men's\nviews of good and evil. At the beginning of our era, for instance, the\nview of God and man introduced by Christianity, resulted in a deepened\nand, to some extent, in a distinctive morality. Again, at the time of\nthe Renaissance, the new knowledge and new interests combined with the\nweakening of the Church's and of the Empire's authority to bring about\nthe demand for a revision of the ecclesiastical morality, and led to\nsome not very successful attempts to find a firmer basis for conduct.\n\nAt the present day also it is the case that philosophers of different\nschools are for the most part agreed in claiming ethical importance\nfor their conceptions about reality. In particular, the scientific\nthought of the last generation has been reformed under the, influence\nof the group of ideas which constitute the theory of evolution. There\nis hardly a department of thought which this new doctrine has not\ntouched; and upon morality its influence may seem to be peculiarly\nimportant and direct. The theory of evolution, as put forward by\nDarwin, has established certain positions which have been regarded as\nof special significance for ethics.\n\nIn the first place, it is an assertion of the unity of life. And we\nmust not limit the generality of this proposition. It is not merely\na denial of the fixity of species, an assertion that there are no\nnatural kinds so inseparable from one another that each must be the\nresult of a distinct creative act. It is also an assertion that human\nlife must be treated as a part in the larger whole of organic being,\nthat the mind of man is continuous with animal perception, that moral\nactivity is continuous with non-moral impulse. And the assertion of\nthe unity of life is at the same time an assertion of the progress of\nlife. What we call the higher forms are in all cases developments from\nsimpler and lower forms.\n\nFurther, the method of this progress has been described. Herein indeed\nlay Darwin's most important achievement. He detected and demonstrated\nthe operation of a factor hitherto unsuspected. This new factor to\nwhich he drew attention as the chief agent in organic development was\ncalled by him 'natural selection,' The name has a positive sound and\nsuggests a process of active choice. But Darwin was fully aware that\nthe process to which he gave this name was a negative and not a\npositive operation; and as such it was clearly recognised by him. The\nname was, no doubt, chosen simply to bring out the fact that the\nsame kind of results as those which man produces by conscious and\nartificial selection may be arrived at without conscious purpose by\nthe operation of merely natural forces. Instead of the 'fit' being\ndirectly chosen or encouraged, what happens is simply that the 'unfit'\ndie out or are exterminated, so that room to live and means of life\nare left for the survivors.\n\nWhat may be meant by this idea of 'fitness'--which meets us in the\nfamous phrase that the 'survival of the fittest' in the struggle for\nlife is the goal of evolution--is a question which brings us at once\nto the consideration of the ethical significance of the theory. For\nit seems to lay claim to give both an explanation of progress and an\ninterpretation of what constitutes worth in conduct.\n\n\n\n\nII.\n\nETHICS AND EVOLUTION.\n\n\nThere are two things which are not always kept distinct,--what may be\ncalled the 'evolution of ethics' and the 'ethics of evolution,' The\nformer might more correctly be called the evolution of morality,--the\naccount of the way in which moral customs, moral institutions, and\nmoral ideas have been developed and have come to take their place in\nthe life of mankind. Clearly these are all features of human life;\nand, if the theory of evolution applies to human life, we must expect\nit also to have some contribution to make to this portion of man's\ndevelopment,--to the growth of the customs, institutions, and ideas\nwhich enter into and make up his morality.\n\nBut by the 'ethics of evolution' is meant something more than the\n'evolution of ethics' or development of morality. It signifies a\ntheory which turns the facts of evolution to account in determining\nthe value for man of different kinds of conduct and feeling and idea.\nWhen one speaks of the ethics of evolution one must be understood to\nmean that the evolution theory does something more than trace the\nhistory of things, that it gives us somehow or other a standard or\ncriterion of moral worth or value. This additional point may be\nexpressed by the technical distinction between origin and validity.\nClearly there is a very great difference between showing how something\nhas come to be what it is and assigning to it worth or validity for\nthe guidance of life or thought It may be that the former enquiry has\nsome bearing upon the latter; but only confusion will result if the\ntwo problems are not clearly distinguished at the outset,--as they\nvery seldom are distinguished by writers on the theory of evolution in\nits application to ethics.\n\nIt may be said that the evolutionist writers on ethics seek to base an\nethics of evolution upon the evolution of ethics, but that they are\nnot always aware of the real nature and difficulties of their task.\nSometimes they seem to think that in tracing the evolution of ethics\nthey are also and at the same time determining and establishing a\ntheory of the ethics of evolution. We must avoid this error, and keep\nthe two problems distinct in our minds. Yet from the nature of the\ncase it holds true that it is only through the facts which the theory\nof evolution establishes or can establish as to the development of\nmorality that it is able to make any contribution to the solution of\nthe further question as to the criterion of morality--the question,\nthat is to say, of moral worth or value.\n\nWe cannot, therefore, avoid dealing with the evolution of ethics. But\nin what follows I am not considering it for its own sake--though it\nis an interesting and important question. In order to simplify\nthe argument, we may allow what is claimed for it, and give the\nevolutionist credit for even greater success on the field of\nhistorical investigation--which is his own field--than he would, if\nfair-minded, claim for himself. The problem I have in view lies beyond\nthis historical question. It is the problem how far the known facts\nand probable theories regarding the development of morality can make\nany contribution towards determining the standard of worth for our\nideas, our sentiments, and our conduct. Now if we read the accredited\nexponents of the doctrine of evolution we shall find amongst them a\nconsiderable variety of view regarding the bearing of the theory of\nevolution upon this properly ethical problem--the problem of the\ncriterion or standard of goodness.\n\nIn the first place, it is desirable to characterise briefly Darwin's\nown contribution to this matter. The suggestion made by him deals\nalmost entirely with what I have called the development of morality,\nnot with the ethics of evolution; and perhaps it may seem to us now\na rather obvious suggestion. But he was the first to make this\nsuggestion; and it comes from him as a direct application of the\ntheory he had established with regard to animal development. His\nsuggestion is simply this--that moral qualities are selected in the\nstruggle for existence in much the same way as purely physical or\nanimal excellences are selected, that is, by their contributing to the\ncontinued and more efficient life of the organism. But Darwin saw very\nclearly that the qualities which are recognised as moral are not\nby any means in all cases contributory to individual success and\nefficiency. They are not all of them qualities that contribute to the\nsuccess of one individual in his struggle with other individuals\nfor the means of subsistence. We may say that courage, prudence,\nself-reliance, will have that effect, and that consequently in the\nstruggle for life the individuals who show such qualities will have\na better chance of survival than those without them. But what about\nqualities such as sympathy, willingness to help another, obedience,\nand faithfulness to a community or to a cause? Clearly, these are not\nqualities which are of special assistance to the individual. But they\nare qualities which are or may be of very great importance to the\ntribe or community of individuals. Supposing such qualities of mutual\nhelp, of willingness even to sacrifice oneself for others--the\nqualities which are commonly grouped as expressions of the social\ninstinct,--supposing these to have been somehow developed in the\nmembers of a tribe, that tribe would, other things being equal, have\nan advantage in a struggle with another tribe whose members did not\npossess these qualities. Now the advantage thus gained in the struggle\nwould be a case of the operation of natural selection: it would\nexterminate or weaken the tribe without these social qualities, and it\nwould thus give opportunity for the growing efficiency of the tribe\nthat possessed them.\n\nPut in the briefest way, this is the explanation which Darwin gave\nof the growth of the social qualities in mankind; and the social\nqualities make up, to a large extent at any rate, what we call moral\nqualities. Darwin, however, saw further than this: he saw that, while\nthis might account for the development of what we may call savage and\nbarbarian virtues, there was in civilised mankind a development of\nsympathy which went far beyond this, and which one could not with good\nreason account for by asserting that it rendered assistance to the\ncommunity in its struggle for existence with other communities.\n\nThus, with regard to the former question, he says: \"A tribe including\nmany members who, from possessing in a high degree the spirit of\npatriotism, fidelity, obedience, courage, and sympathy, were always\nready to aid one another, and to sacrifice themselves for the common\ngood, would be victorious over most other tribes; and this would be\nnatural selection[1].\"\n\n[Footnote 1: Descent of Man, Part I. chap. v. p. 203 (new ed., 1901).]\n\nBut when he comes to the case of civilised men he finds a difficulty.\n\"With savages,\" he says, \"the weak in body or mind are soon\neliminated; and those that survive commonly exhibit a vigorous state\nof health. We civilised men, on the other hand, do our utmost to check\nthe process of elimination; we build asylums for the imbecile, the\nmaimed, and the sick; we institute poor-laws; and our medical men\nexert their utmost skill to save the life of every one to the last\nmoment.... The aid which we feel impelled to give to the helpless is\nmainly an incidental result of the instinct of sympathy, which was\noriginally acquired as part of the social instincts.... Nor could\nwe check our sympathy, even at the urging of hard reason, without\ndeterioration in the noblest part of our nature[1].\" This sympathy,\nwhich natural selection cannot preserve or vindicate even in the\nstruggle of communities, is nevertheless recognised by Darwin as\nhaving a moral value outside of and above natural selection and the\nstruggle for existence,--a value of which these have no right to\njudge. He thinks that if we followed hard reason--and by 'hard reason'\nhe obviously means an imitation on our part of the action of natural\nselection--we should be led to sweep away all those institutions by\nwhich civilised mankind guards its weaker members. But this, he says,\nwould be only to deteriorate the \"noblest part of our nature.\" What is\nnoblest in our nature, then, is not that which natural selection has\nfavoured or maintained. There is, therefore, implied in his view a\nlimitation of the ethical significance of the principle of natural\nselection. For, when we come to this crucial question of conduct,\nit is not allowed to give any criterion of moral validity. More\ncomprehensive attempts on the same lines as Darwin's have been made\nsubsequently; and various writers have tried to show how the moral\ncriterion may be resolved into social efficiency, or how it may be\nderived from a problematic future state of the human race on this\nearth when the need for struggle has disappeared and all things\ngo smoothly. The former view may be found in Sir Leslie Stephen's\n'Science of Ethics'; the latter is the peculiar property of Mr Herbert\nSpencer. Somewhat unwillingly I must for the present leave these\nspecial views without consideration,[2] because I wish to bring out\nstill more plainly the various attitudes of the evolutionists to\nmorality, and especially to draw attention to a view very different\nfrom those just mentioned, though not altogether without support in\nDarwin, which, as put forward some years ago by the late Professor\nHuxley[3], produced no little flutter in scientific dovecots.\n\n[Footnote 1: Descent of Man, pp. 205, 206.]\n\n[Footnote 2: For a discussion of these views I may be allowed to\nrefer to my' Ethics of Naturalism,' chap. viii. (chap. ix. in the new\nedition). The same volume contains a more exhaustive examination than\nis possible in this lecture of the whole subject of evolutionist\nethics.]\n\n[Footnote 3: The Romanes Lecture, 1893, \"Evolution and Ethics.\" In\n1894 this was republished, with prolegomena, in vol. ix. of 'Collected\nEssays,' with the title, \"Evolution and Ethics, and other Essays.\"]\n\nProfessor Huxley reviewed what he called the cosmic process as it was\nguided by the law of evolution. He showed how at each step of that\nprocess new results were only attained by enormous waste and pain on\nthe part of those living creatures which were thrust aside as unfit\nfor their surroundings, and he held consequently that the whole cosmic\nprocess is of an entirely different character from what we must mean\nwhen we use the term 'moral.' According to him morality is opposed\nto the method of evolution, and cannot be based upon the theory of\nevolution. It is of independent worth; but Professor Huxley, perhaps\nwisely, refrained from investigating its justification, while\nenforcing \"the apparent paradox that ethical nature, while born of\ncosmic nature, is necessarily at enmity with its parent\"\n\n\"The practice of that which is ethically best--what we call goodness\nor virtue--involves a course of conduct which, in all respects, is\nopposed to that which leads to success in the cosmic struggle\nfor existence. In place of ruthless self-assertion it demands\nself-restraint; in place of thrusting aside, or treading down, all\ncompetitors, it requires that the individual shall not merely respect,\nbut shall help, his fellows; its influence is directed, not so much to\nthe survival of the fittest, as to the fitting of as many as possible\nto survive. It repudiates the gladiatorial theory of existence....\nLet us understand once for all that the ethical progress of society\ndepends, not on imitating the cosmic process, still less in running\naway from it, but in combating it.\"[1]\n\n[Footnote 1: Evolution and Ethics, pp. 81-83.]\n\nHere, then, is a view very different from the easy optimism of Mr\nHerbert Spencer. The cosmic order has nothing to say to the moral\norder, except that, somehow or other, it has given it birth; the\nmoral order has nothing to say to the cosmic order, except that it\nis certainly bad. Morality is occupied in opposing the methods of\nevolution.\n\nStill another view is possible. It may be held that the morality of\nself-restraint and self-sacrifice are opposed--as Huxley says they are\nopposed--to the methods of cosmic evolution; and yet the \"gladiatorial\ntheory of existence\" may not be repudiated; but morality may be\nmodified to suit the claims of evolution. This is the position adopted\nby the philosopher Nietzsche, whose whole thought is permeated by the\nidea of evolution. Like Professor Huxley, Nietzsche might say that\nmorality is opposed to the cosmic process. But by morality he would\nmean something that is not to be encouraged, but that is to be shed\nfrom human life, or at least fundamentally transformed, just because\nit is in opposition to the laws of cosmic progress. On the other hand,\nthe morality--if we may use the term--which the cosmic process teaches\nus will be a development of the conceptions of self-assertion and\nself-reliance, qualities which, according to ordinary morality--the\nmorality, for instance, of Professor Huxley--require to be permeated\nand even superseded by self-restraint and possibly self-sacrifice in\norder that the moral law may be satisfied. Not obedience, not mutual\nhelp, not benevolence, but the will to rule or desire of power, is\nwith Nietzsche fundamental, the primary impulse in the history of the\nwhole progress of the world, and still of first importance for the\nfurther development of mankind.\n\nThis view is at the opposite extreme from Huxley's, for it overlooks\nthe advantages mankind has gained by means of the social instinct and\nthe social solidarity which it secures. But there is a further\npoint in Nietzsche's reflexions which is suggested by the theory\nof development. Natural selection is not the sole agent in the\ndevelopment of organic life: it cannot be too often enforced that\nnatural selection produces nothing, that its operation is purely\nnegative. It does not properly select at all, it only excludes. What\nit does is to cut off the unfit specimens of living beings which\nnature supplies. It would have no field of operation were it not\nfor the variety of nature. While individuals tend to repeat the\ncharacteristics of their parents, they do not repeat them without\nchange: the principle of heredity is counterbalanced by a principle\nof variety equally hard to explain. All organic life exhibits this\ntendency to variation; and one variation proves better adapted than\nanother to the environment. It is this which makes possible the\noperation of 'natural selection.' Unfit varieties are exterminated by\nnatural selection, and room is thus left for varieties which are fit\nto perpetuate themselves and to increase in efficiency.\n\nNow, if we apply this conception to human conduct, should we not\nencourage all varieties to carry on their experiments in living and\nin morality so that we may see whether success will justify them? An\naffirmative answer to this question is sometimes vaguely hinted at; by\nNietzsche it is proclaimed from the housetops.\n\n\"There is no monopoly of morals, and every morality which exclusively\nasserts itself destroys too much good strength, and is too dearly\nbought by mankind. The straying ones, who so often are the inventive\nand productive ones, shall no longer be sacrificed; it shall not even\nbe deemed a disgrace to stray from morals either in deeds or thoughts;\nnumerous new experiments shall be made in matters of life and society;\nan enormous incubus of bad conscience shall be removed from the\nworld--these are the general aims which ought to be recognised and\nfurthered by all honest and truth-seeking people.\"[1]\n\n[Footnote 1: Nietzsche, Werke, iv. 161, 162; Dawn of Day, \u00a7 164.]\n\nReflecting for a moment on what precedes, we may observe that, from\nthe mouths of the evolutionists themselves, we have encountered three\ndifferent views regarding the ethical significance of evolution. In\nthe first place, there is the view of Darwin that natural selection is\na criterion of moral fitness only up to a certain stage, and that the\nnoblest part of man's morality is independent of this test; in the\nsecond place, there is the view of Huxley that morality is entirely\nopposed to the cosmic process as ruled by natural selection; and, in\nthe third place, there is the view of Nietzsche that the principles\nof biological development (variation, that is to say, and natural\nselection) should be allowed free play so that, in the future as\nin the past, successful variations may be struck out by triumphant\negoism. Neither these views, nor the still more elaborate treatment of\nSpencer, do I propose to examine in detail. But I wish to offer some\nreflexions upon the fundamental conception underlying them all,\naccounting in this way, perhaps, for the differences of opinion\nbetween Darwin and Spencer, Huxley and Nietzsche. The conception of\nnatural selection and of evolution by natural selection is applied by\nmen of science and by philosophers in three very different spheres, to\nthree very different kinds of struggle or competition. There may be\nmany different kinds of competition: it will be sufficient here to\nconsider the three following:--\n\nFirst, there is the competition between individuals for individual\nlife and success. Now, so far as we are dealing with this competition,\nthe only qualities which natural selection will favour are of course\nthe qualities which lead to the continuance and efficiency of the\nindividual organism. The qualities 'selected' in this process are\ntherefore only the self-assertive qualities,--the qualities of\nstrength, of courage, of prudence, and also of temperance.\n\nBut in the second place there is also, as I have already indicated and\nas was seen by Darwin (though he did not draw this distinction), a\nsecond kind of competition, the competition between groups. Now the\ngroup competition has as its end the continuance and efficiency of\nthe group, be it horde or tribe or nation, or be it one of those\nsubsidiary groups which enter into national life. In this competition\nbetween groups it is clear that those qualities will be favoured by\nnatural selection which contribute to the efficiency of the group; and\nthe qualities which contribute to the efficiency of the group are not\nthose only which contribute to the efficiency of the individual, but\nalso qualities implying self-restraint and even self-sacrifice on the\npart of one member of the group for the sake of other members of the\ngroup or of the group as a whole. The habit of obedience, for example,\nobedience to the authority of the group or its representative, may be\nof fundamental importance in maintaining the existence of the group\nas a group, although that habit of obedience has no place at all in\npromoting the interests of the individual when he is competing with\nother individuals.\n\nThirdly, there is still another kind of competition which is a little\nmore difficult to make quite clear, because it is not on the plane of\nindividual life and it is not to be identified with the life of\nthe community. It is a competition on the intellectual level, the\ncompetition between ideas, and with this one may also couple (so far\nas it does not directly concern the struggle for social existence and\nthus belong to the second class) the competition between institutions,\nincluding therein also habits and customs. The various institutions in\nour national life, and the various habits of our life, may be said to\nbe forms which have to maintain themselves often in competition with\nother and antagonistic forms of institution. The same holds of our\nvarious ideas or general conceptions, whether about morality, which we\nhave now specially in view, or about matters more purely intellectual.\nFor instance, forty or fifty years ago, there was a fierce controversy\namongst biologists between the group of ideas represented by Darwin's\ntheory and the group of ideas represented by the traditional view of\nthe fixity of species. There was a long conflict between these two\ngroups of ideas, and we may now say that the Darwinian group of ideas\nhas emerged from the conflict victorious.\n\nNow, when the phrase 'natural selection in morals' is used, the\nreference is commonly to a conflict of this last kind. The suggestion\nis that different ideas and also different standards of action are\nmanifested at the same time within the same community, that they\ncompete with one another for existence, and that gradually those which\nare better adapted to the life of the community survive, while the\nothers grow weaker and in the end disappear. In this way the law of\nnatural selection is made to apply to moral ideas and moral standards,\nand also to intellectual standards and to the institutions and customs\nin which our ideas are expressed.\n\nThese, then, are the three ways in which the competition in man's life\nand the selection between the competing factors is carried out. And\nsometimes I think one sees a tendency to suggest that this needs\nonly to be stated, and that the whole question of the application of\nevolution to ethics is then settled. You may say that such and such\nmoral qualities, as for instance the quality of sympathy, do not aid\nthe individual in competition with other individuals. The reply might\nbe No, but they aid the group in competition with other groups. Or you\nmay say, as Darwin said, that even this competition will not account\nfor the civilised development of sympathy. But even so we are not at\nthe end of our tether; and we can fall back on the conflict of ideas.\nThe idea of sympathy or of altruism, for instance, may conflict with\nsome other idea, such as that of egoism. At first the competition is a\ngroup-competition, in which the group with altruistic members succeeds\nat the expense of the egoistic group. By the victory of the former our\nsociety becomes more and more a society whose basis is sympathy and\nall that sympathy implies, while conflicting ideas lose the lead. So\nin general with the competition of ideas: the idea which fails to\nadapt itself to its conditions will disappear, and the idea which is\nthus adapted will persist; and this also (it is said) is just natural\nselection. Now I venture to ask the question, Is it? I will put the\nquestion whether all these three processes are really forms of the\nsame process, or, in other words and to put the matter more simply, Is\nit simply natural selection that is operative in all these different\nforms of competition?\n\nFor the sake of clearness I will take first this last-mentioned form\nof competition, the process by which one idea drives another out of\nthe intellectual or moral currency of a community. The competition\nbetween the idea of fixity of species and Darwin's idea of the unity\nof life has been already cited as an instance; and it was pointed\nout that, gradually and after a controversy of some forty years, the\nformer idea almost disappeared, and in the minds at any rate of those\nwho know, the Darwinian theory became victorious. Was it natural\nselection that brought about the result? To test the matter let us ask\nonce more how natural selection operates. Its mode of operation is\nalways simply negative. And if, in the struggle of life, it selects\nthe courageous man rather than the coward, the temperate man rather\nthan the intemperate, the method by which this result is reached is\nsimple: when it comes to a conflict the courageous man kills the\ncoward or reduces him to subjection; the intemperate man has less\nvitality than the temperate: he too disappears, although perhaps\ngradually.\n\nTake again the group-competition so far as it is influenced by\nnatural selection. The tribe which manifests the qualities of social\nsolidarity is selected simply in this way, that when it comes into\nconflict with a tribe which has not this solidarity the latter\nis beaten, and is thus unable to obtain the pastures or the\nhunting-ground which it desires, and therefore gradually or swiftly it\nis exterminated or left behind in the race for life. Now, I ask, Did\nthis process take place when Darwinism supplanted the traditional\ntheory of the fixity of species? Surely it is clear that it is only in\nthe rarest cases that false or inadequate ideas on such subjects have\nany tendency to shorten life or weaken health. Bishop Wilberforce was\nkilled by a fall from his horse, not by the triumphant dialectic of\nProfessor Huxley. Sir Richard Owen lived to a patriarchal old age, and\ndid not disappear from the face of the earth because he still clung to\nan idea which the best intellect of his time had relinquished. There\nis nothing in the doctrine of the fixity of species--if you hold\nit--which will in the least degree tend to diminish vitality. Natural\nselection has practically no effect at all in exterminating those who\nadhere to this idea. There is no means of livelihood from which it\nwould exclude them except indeed that it might prevent them from\noccupying Chairs of Biology. Apart from that I do not think it will\nhinder them in any of the various modes of activity in which the\nstruggle for life is manifested.\n\nWhat was it then that led to the victory of the one idea over the\nother? The cause was intellectual. With the experts, it was logical\nconviction: one set of ideas was found to fit the facts somewhat\nbetter than the other set of ideas. With men in general the\nintellectual change came more slowly and in a different way: they\nadopted or imitated the ideas of those who knew. It was therefore not\nnatural selection at all which led to the presence and power of the\none idea rather than the other in the minds of thoughtful men. One\nidea was deliberately accepted and the other deliberately rejected.\nThe former was accepted on grounds of which the most general account\nwould be, if we may use the term, to call them subjective. But natural\nselection is a physical, external, objective process. It is carried\nout without the individual's volition: he is not aiming at the end.\nIt is simply natural law which, with many varieties of living beings\nbefore it, exterminates the unfit individuals. Thus nature in its own\nblind way produces a result of the same kind as that which the will of\nman would bring about by subjective selection.\n\nThe origin of this term 'natural selection' is overlooked when people\ntalk glibly about 'natural selection' of ideas. Darwin used the term\n'natural selection' because he thought he saw an analogy between the\ntendency of nature and the selective purposes of intelligent beings.\nIt was because nature, working without intelligence, produced the same\nkind of result as man does by intelligent selection, that he ventured\nto use this term 'selection' of the process of nature. Perhaps he was\nhardly justified in adopting the term, as nature does not select; she\nonly passes by. At the same time, artificial selection also includes,\nalthough it is not limited to, this negative or weeding-out process.\nWhen you select a certain plant for growth in your garden you weed out\nthe neighbouring plants which encroach upon it, so as to give it a\nchance to grow and thrive. By removing its competitors, you let air\nand light surround the plant, and it spreads its leaves to the sun.\nThe healthy growth which results is due to the removal of obstacles\nby an external power; and it is in this way--by the removal of\nobstacles--that natural selection works.\n\nIntelligent or artificial selection is not restricted to this negative\nmethod of working; and its operation, positive as well as negative,\nwas certainly well known long before Darwin's day. Starting with the\nfamiliar facts of artificial or purposive selection, Darwin showed how\nresults similar to those aimed at and reached in this way might be\nbrought about by the operation of certain natural laws, working\nwithout purpose or design. Purposive selection pursues its ends more\ndirectly and in general attains them far more quickly than does\nnatural selection. A still more striking characteristic is the fact\nthat it does not entail the waste and pain which mark the course of\nnatural selection. Witness the records of natural selection in the\nvegetable and animal kingdoms, where thousands are called into\nfruitless being that one alone may survive and prosper. Wastefulness\nis the most striking feature of its method, and its path is strewn\nwith wreckage. In all these respects the conflict of ideas belongs\nto the level of purposive and not of natural selection. It involves\nconsciousness of the end, which natural selection never does; it is\ncomparatively rapid in reaching its goal and comparatively direct in\nthe route it takes; and the victory of an idea does not take effect\nthrough any general extermination of the individuals who cherish ideas\n'unfit' for survival.\n\nI do not deny that there may be a certain natural selection in the\ncase of human beings; but that process is always clumsy and slow and\nwasteful, and the purposive intelligent selection which takes its\nplace is one of the greatest possible gains to living beings:\nits presence distinguishes men from animals; its predominance\ndistinguishes civilised men from savages; the higher the stage\nof civilisation, the more marked is the development of selective\nintelligence. And in the conflict of ideas, whether moral or\nintellectual, the issue is determined by a selection which is\npredominantly purposive, and only in the slightest degree natural.\n\nIf we return to the conflict of groups we shall see that even there\npurposive selection enters. How (we may ask) do those qualities of\nobedience, willingness to help another, and the like, arise in a\ncommunity and thus enable it to win the victory over a less organised\nor more savage enemy? Surely it is not a sufficient answer to say that\nthese qualities have been somehow developed, and then have contributed\nto the victory of the community possessing them. All through civilised\nlife, and probably throughout a great part of savage life, there is\nthe keenest enquiry into and perception of the qualities which\nwill make for success. These qualities are carefully selected and\npositively fostered. You drill your armies--that is, you cultivate\nthe habit of discipline and all that discipline implies--so that the\nvictory may be gained; in other words, the quality is not produced by\nnatural selection at all. The issue may resemble the result of natural\nselection, for it leads to conflict and defeat of the unfit; but the\nconqueror is he who has foreseen the conditions of the struggle:\nhas deliberately equipped his forces for the fight, and been the\nintelligent organiser of victory.\n\nEven in the case of competition between individuals, at least among\ncivilised men, it is clear that natural selection is very far from\nbeing the only factor. A man trains himself for a profession. It does\nnot just somehow come about that a number of people accidentally\ndevelop certain varieties of occupation, and that natural selection\nmakes play with this result, cutting off the unfit and leaving only\nthose who are fairly well adapted to their positions. Something of\nthis sort no doubt takes place to a limited extent; but, so far as it\ndoes take place, our methods are denounced as defective and, perhaps,\nas old-fashioned. 'Haphazard' is a wasteful principle, and should be\nsuperseded by intelligent initiative and deliberate preparation. And\nthis indeed is the usual process. One adapts oneself carefully and of\nset purpose to the conditions of one's life, instead of simply waiting\nfor natural selection to cut one off should one happen to be unfit.\n\nEven among animals there are certain processes which cannot be brought\nunder natural selection. There are the first efforts, slight as they\nmay be, towards learning by experience. There are also all those facts\nwhich Darwin classes under sexual selection, where there is a positive\nchoosing, due no doubt not to intelligent purpose but nevertheless to\na subjective impulse. This marks the beginning of the end of the\nreign of natural selection, because in it for the purely objective or\nexternal factor there is substituted an internal, subjective factor;\ninstead of the process of cutting off unsuitable individuals among\nchance varieties there appears the process of selecting that variety\nwhich pleases or attracts.\n\nThe result of this whole investigation is that natural selection\ncannot be properly applied so as to explain the conflict of moral\nideas. It is not able to account for all the phenomena of the\ncompetition between groups. Even in sub-human life there are\nindications of the processes which supersede natural selection. From\nthis result the ethical consequence may be drawn, that there is no\ngood ground for taking the lower, the less developed, method of\nselection as our guide in preference to the higher and more developed.\nSurely we are not to take natural selection as the sole factor of\nethical import because we see it at the crude beginnings of life on\nthis earth, while the process of life itself in its higher ranges\npasses beyond natural selection. The physiological interpretation\nof life and conduct put forward by Nietzsche, and by a good many\nbiological philosophers, would take natural selection, and its bearing\nupon the animal nature of man, as the sole test of efficiency and\nethical value. But this interpretation of man's life disregards the\nachievements of evolution itself for the sake of pinning its faith to\nthe humble beginnings of the organic process.\n\nAfter this long enquiry into the nature and scope of natural\nselection, we should be better prepared to understand the degree and\nkind of ethical significance which can be rightly assigned to the\ntheory of evolution. In the first place let us consider the now\nfamiliar claim that man must be taken as part of the cosmos, and that\nman's conduct must be regarded and studied in its place in the cosmic\nprocess. At the time when it was first made this claim may have seemed\na startling one; but I think that we must admit that, keeping to their\nown ground and using the instruments that are theirs by right, the\nevolutionist writers have succeeded in showing man's connexion with\nthe animal kingdom and with organic life generally, and thus his place\nin the whole cosmic process. The claim must therefore be admitted.\n\nBut if man is part of the universe, then the universe is not\nintelligible apart from man, and the cosmic process is not fully\nunderstood unless we also have an understanding of human activity.\nThis, therefore, is the counter-claim that I would suggest. The course\nand method of evolution, or of the 'cosmic process'--to use Huxley's\nterm--is imperfectly described if the methods and principles of human\naction are left out of account.\n\nNo doubt the reply may be made, as the reply has been made, that after\nall man occupies but a minute space in the cosmos, that he is but an\ninsignificant speck on an unimportant planet. But, if this is at all\nmeant to imply that we may safely leave the peculiarities of human\nactivity out of account, then I say that the suggestion hardly\ndeserves consideration. Surely the assumption is too gross and\nunwarrantable that material magnitude is the standard of importance,\nor that the significance of man's life can be measured by the size of\nhis material organism. We must therefore never delude ourselves with\nthe idea that we have a full account of the cosmos or the cosmic\nprocess unless we have taken account of the peculiarities of man's\nnature and man's activity.\n\nIn the second place, the discussion of the principle of natural\nselection suggests a further reflexion. The process of natural\nselection is a process which always tends to some end, because by it\nsome organisms are selected, and they are the organisms which are\nfittest to live. By 'fittest' is of course meant that which is\nbest adapted to the environment, or, as it is simply a question of\nsurvival, that which so fits the conditions of the environment that it\nis able to survive. The canon of the principle of natural selection is\non the face of it relative. No one would say that the principle can be\ninterpreted as an absolute law for conduct, after the fashion of the\nabsolute laws laid down by the rationalist moralists; what is involved\nis simply a gelation to one's surroundings. One must keep in touch\nwith them, one must adapt oneself to them, in order to live.\n\nBut I wish to point out that the principle is not only relative, but\nthat its relation is limited to certain features of the environment\nwhich surrounds mankind, namely, to those features and those features\nonly which prevent organisms unsuited to the conditions of life from\nsurviving at all. The only way in which natural selection works is by\nkilling off rapidly or gradually the organisms which are not fitted to\nobtain from the environment the means of life--that is to say, it\nhas to do with life only, with the continuance of life as a possible\nmaterial phenomenon. Given that the organisms are fit enough to\nsurvive, given that their animal vitality is not diminished, a\nquestion remains: what is the standard of worthy survival? and to that\nquestion the process and principle of natural selection can give no\nanswer. To use the old distinction: even if it is able to account for\nbeing, it can give no standard for wellbeing.\n\nNow the environment of civilised man is a great deal larger in range\nthan those material phenomena which contribute to his nourishment and\nthus to his existence as an animal organism. No doubt his first effort\nis to maintain himself as an animal--that is the condition of all\nhis subsequent activity--but he seeks also to suit himself to an\nenvironment which is wider and subtler than merely animal conditions\nof life; to adapt himself to society, perhaps only as a member of it,\nperhaps also as a leader or reformer; to adapt himself to the dominant\nideas of his time, absorbing them, perhaps also modifying them; to\nadapt himself to a whole region of interests which may in our life be\nbuilt upon an animal basis, but of which the animal basis gives no\nexplanation--interests social, artistic, intellectual, spiritual.\n\nIt is correct, therefore, to say of man that his environment is much\nlarger than the material universe; it is whatever he conceives the\nuniverse as being, and whatever it can be for him: whether he seeks\nfrom it merely intellectual understanding, whether he regards it as\na vehicle for artistic production, or whether he may see in it an\nopportunity for realising his own being by fulfilling the will of\nGod--perhaps by submerging his own individuality in deity. The\nobjects of philosophy, art, and religion,--all these are parts of the\nenvironment of civilised man, and yet his self-adaptation to them has\nno direct effect whatever upon his continuance on the earth as an\nanimal organism. In other words, the process of natural selection\ncan give us no canon at all for putting a value upon these various\nactivities, or upon the way in which man adapts himself to these parts\nof his environment.\n\nIt is said by Mr Herbert Spencer that \"we must interpret the more\ndeveloped by the less developed\";[1] and the inference would seem to\nbe that, as animal existence is the basis of all higher activities, we\nmust interpret these by it. But if this claim can be admitted at all,\nit can only be if our aim goes no further than to trace a historical\nprocess. If we desire to understand capacity or function--still more\nif we speak of worth or goodness--then it is much more correct to say\nthat we must interpret the less developed by the more developed.\nIf you wish to trace the growth of the oak-tree from its earliest\nbeginnings to maturity, then study the acorn and the soil; but if you\nwish to know what the capacity and the function of the acorn are, then\nyou must interpret the less developed by the more developed, you\nmust see what an oak is like when it spreads its branches under the\nheavens.\n\n[Footnote 1: Principles of Ethics, i. 7.]\n\nIn the third place, the way in which the action of natural selection\ndiffers according to circumstances affects its ethical significance.\nIt operates as between individuals, and it operates as between\ngroups,--although in the latter operation especially it is always\nmixed with other forces than natural selection. The competition\nbetween individuals favours egoistic qualities, the competition\nbetween groups favours qualities which may be called altruistic.\n\nNow no principle whatever can be got out of the theory of natural\nselection, or out of the evolution theory in general, which will\ndecide between these divergent operations. The question may be put,\nAre we to cultivate the qualities which will give us success in the\nbattle of individual with individual, or are we to cultivate in\nourselves qualities which will contribute to the success of the\ncommunity? All the answer that the evolution theory can give to this\nquestion is, that when individual fights with individual, the man with\nstronger egoistic qualities will succeed, and that when group fights\ngroup, those groups that possess stronger altruistic qualities will\ntend to success. But which set of qualities we are to cultivate, or\nwhether we are to manifest a sort of balance of the two, is a question\nupon which we can get no light from the theory of evolution considered\nby itself. And consequently we find a very prevalent, though perhaps\nhardly ever definitely expressed, code of conduct according to which\nthe individual takes as the guide for his own action the egoistic\nqualities which give success in the struggle between different\nindividuals, but recommends to all his fellows in the same community\nthat they should cultivate those altruistic qualities which will lead\nto the advantage of society.\n\nThe theory of evolution makes no contribution at all to these\nquestions of worth or validity or moral value which we have been\ndiscussing. All one can get out of it is certain canons for living,\nbut none for good living. It may draw one's attention to this fact, if\nanybody's attention needs to be drawn to it, that existence is prior\nto wellbeing; but what the nature of wellbeing is--upon that it throws\nno light.\n\nWe have been met by the suggestion that we should interpret by means\nof the lower or less developed, and again that we should set up a\npurely physiological standard. But the suggestion overlooks two\nthings: first of all, the difficulties in the application of natural\nselection itself with its divergent tendencies; and, secondly, the\nfact that this process of evolution has itself resulted in the\ndevelopment of certain higher activities and higher tendencies, and\nthat there is no good ground for holding that their worth is to be\ntested by means of the lower qualities out of which they have grown.\n\nNow a good many evolutionist moralists seem to see this, and\naccordingly restrict themselves almost entirely to what we may call\nthe historical point of view. They show how moral customs and moral\nideas adapted to them have arisen, and how these ideas and customs\nhave corresponded with the institutions of the time to which they\nbelonged. Their tendency, accordingly, is to restrict ethics to\nthe question of origin and history and description, to deprive it\naltogether of what is sometimes called its normative character--that\nis to say, its character as a science which lays down rules or sets up\nideals for conduct. They would take away from it altogether the power\nof determining and establishing a criterion between right and wrong.\nIn other words, the fundamental ethical question would be entirely\nexcluded from the scope of the science of ethics.[1]\n\n[Footnote 1: Cf. Green, 'Prolegomena to Ethics,' p. 7: \"A philosopher\nwho would reconstruct our ethical systems in conformity with the\ndoctrines of evolution and descent, if he would be consistent, must\ndeal less scrupulously with them than perhaps any one has yet been\nfound to do. If he has the courage of his principles, having reduced\nthe speculative part of them to a natural science, he must abolish the\npractical or preceptive part altogether.\"]\n\nThat, so far as I can see, is the tendency of a good deal of quite\nrecent writing from the point of view of the evolution school: in the\nface of controversy and in the face of difficulties to give up the\nattempt which they started on so confidently thirty years ago,--the\nattempt to show that evolution affords a means of deciding between\nright and wrong and of establishing an ideal for human conduct.\nFailing in this attempt, they seem to turn round and say that ethics\nshould content itself with describing facts instead of laying down a\nlaw or setting up an ideal.\n\nNow, whatever truth there may be in the assertion of the difficulty\nof determining an ideal for conduct, there is one thing certain: that\nwhether or not the ideal can be philosophically or scientifically\ndefined and established, some ideal is always being set up. Human\naction implies choice, implies the selection of one course rather\nthan another; and the course that is chosen is always chosen for some\nreason, because it seems better than the course which is passed by.\nChoice always follows some kind of principle. We may use different\nprinciples at different times, we may use badly established\nprinciples, we may use uncriticised principles, but principles we do\nuse, and we cannot act voluntarily without using them, even when we\nare not definitely conscious of them.\n\nIt is not possible, therefore, to entertain the suggestion that these\nprinciples should be excluded from ethics. Ethics must consider them,\neven if it should fail in reaching a correct account of them. We are\nbound to ask, for instance, what principles can decide between those\ndivergent tendencies brought to light by natural selection, between\nthe conditions of success for the group and the conditions of success\nfor the individual? The conflict between individual development and\ngroup development is continually pressing to the front The individual\ncannot reach a high stage of development except in and through a\nhighly developed society. But the efficiency which a highly developed\nsociety requires of its members is not the same as individual\ndevelopment; it more commonly implies a specialisation which tends to\nwarp or cramp individual capacity. This is a long familiar opposition.\nAnd the theory of evolution can do nothing to reconcile it All it can\nsay is that in certain cases natural selection points one way, and\nthat in certain cases it points the other way. If ethical significance\nbe claimed for it, it must be said that natural selection is divided\nagainst itself, and that it is without any principle for reconciling\nits own divergences.\n\nIt is because biological evolution is essentially an historical\ndoctrine that its votaries should not be too eager to apply it\ndirectly to ethics. It has accomplished much if able to tell us how\nthings have happened in the past, without also dictating how they\nought to take place now. It is specially absurd to say that earlier\nmethods must govern later developments. That is what is done when we\nare asked to take as our guide in voluntary choice a principle which\nignores volition. The whole progress from animal to man and from\nsavage to civilised man shows a gradual supersession of the principle\nof natural selection by a principle of subjective selection which\nsteadily grows in purposiveness and in intelligence. To say that\nintelligence should take nature as its guide is to ask civilised man\nto put off both his civilisation and his manhood.\n\nThe course of evolution may describe the working of different\nprinciples; but it cannot of itself supply a test of their value. How\nthen is such a test to be got? Can Metaphysics help us? I have pointed\nout that the evolutionist ethics is relative--implying always a\nrelation between organism and environment--but this relativity is\nqualified by its objective character. It does do something for morals:\nit brings man's conduct into relation with the world as a whole.\nNo doubt the environment which more immediately surrounds man is a\nsuccession of changing phenomena, so that although the basis we get is\nobjective, nevertheless it is unable to give us a permanent standard\nof reference. At the same time we may trace in this theory some\nadvance on the older types of ethical thinking spoken of in last\nlecture. Subjectivity adhered even to the Utilitarian type of thought:\nfor what can be more subjective than the pleasant feeling upon\nwhich morality is made by it to depend? There was also a certain\nsubjectivity attaching to the Intuitional type of thought, because the\nIntuitionists simply referred their judgments to conscience, the law\nin man, and did not connect conscience with a wider or more objective\nview of the universe.\n\nThe suggestion remains that we may get a basis for morality which\nis both objective and permanent from that more complete view of the\nuniverse which is given or which is sought by metaphysics. Metaphysics\naims at completeness. That is, indeed, its predominant characteristic\nas a body of knowledge. It may begin with the part, if you like, with\nthe 'flower in the crannied wall'; but when that is seen in all its\nrelations to the rest of the world, then you will 'know what God and\nman is,' If the universe is a whole, then, beginning at any point,\nwith any detail, if you only push the enquiry far enough, you are\nbound to become metaphysical: for you are attempting to understand\nreality as a whole.\n\nIn this Metaphysics resembles Religion. Both seek the ultimate, the\nfinal, the whole. But Metaphysics is distinguished from Religion in\nseeking the whole only by way of knowledge. So far it is like\nany other science. It is a process or the result of a process of\nknowledge. It seeks to know reality as a whole, and in knowing a part\nto know it in its relations to the whole. Religion also considers\neverything in its relation to the whole. But in religion knowledge is\nnot the fundamental thing: its object is to relate man to God, in his\nconsciousness, and in his life as a whole.\n\nThe theory of evolution itself very often tends to become a\nmetaphysical theory. It does so when it holds the course of\ndevelopment which it traces to be either itself the ultimate reality\nor the most adequate appearance of that reality. This theory is now\ncommonly known by the name of Naturalism; according to it the facts\ndealt with by the natural sciences are the only reality which is\nknowable; man's nature is part of these and has to be adapted to\nthem, and there is nothing further with which it can be brought into\nrelation. This theory is not the same as the scientific theory of\nevolution, nor is it a necessary consequence of it; but in the\nminds of many the two go together. The conclusion of the preceding\nargument--that the ethical significance of evolution is not deep\nenough to give any answer to the fundamental question of morals--is\nnot a criticism of the theory of evolution so far as restricted to\nthe domain of science, but it is a criticism of the Naturalism which\nprofesses to be a final philosophy.\n\n\n\n\nIII.\n\nETHICS AND IDEALISM.\n\n\nThere has been no movement of metaphysical thought in our time which\ncan be compared for its widespread influence or for its general\nacceptance with the theory of evolution in biological science.\nIntimate as is its connexion with the progress of science, metaphysics\ndoes not keep step with it,--any more than it simply marks time as the\nformer advances. It reflects the influence of each new generalisation\nof science; but if and so far as it reflects this influence only, it\ncannot be an adequate metaphysics. Metaphysics must re-think each new\nfact brought to light, each new generalisation established by science.\nIt must think them in their relation to the whole, and attempt to\nunderstand them by setting them in their place in the complete system\nof knowledge and reality. This complete system is indeed an\nideal, never adequately comprehended by the human mind; but it is\nnevertheless the ideal which determines all efforts of constructive\nphilosophy--including those efforts which take the generalisation of\nsome special science as their all-comprehending principle. An attempt\nof this kind to make a philosophy out of a scientific generalisation\nhas in our own time been the obvious result of the theory of\nevolution, and has given new vogue to the philosophical system called\nNaturalism. That system draws its strength from the scientific\ndoctrine of evolution; but as a philosophy it gives an extended\napplication to the generalisation established by a group of sciences,\nand valid for the facts within their range. It interprets the law\nof development which rules the sequences of nature as the highest\nattainable principle for explaining the system of things. Some of the\nquestions which it leaves unanswered, and some of the facts which\nit overlooks, have been pointed out in last lecture. Of this theory\nperhaps enough has already been said.\n\nIn spite of the increased vogue which naturalism has obtained from its\nalliance with triumphant evolutionism, it cannot be said to represent\nthe prevailing type of thought amongst the English metaphysicians\nof the last generation. That generation was remarkable for the\nreappearance in this country of a reasoned Idealism; and all forms of\nIdealism have at least this in common, that they refuse to look upon\nthe material process as the ultimate character of reality--so far as\nreality is known or knowable.\n\nIt may also be said--and this is a characteristic which is not merely\nnegative--that all forms of Idealism agree in ascribing special\nsignificance to the moral and religious aspects of life. This holds\ntrue of the great idealists, different as their types of thought may\nbe--of Plato and Aristotle, of Spinoza and Leibniz, of Kant, Fichte,\nand Hegel. It holds true also of the leading representatives of recent\nEnglish idealism. But the ethical tone of a treatise and the ethical\ninterest of its author are not always a guarantee that ethical\nconceptions have a secure position in his system of thought. This is\nthe case, I think, with Spinoza; and it seems to me to hold also of\nsome writers of the present day. Mr Bradley, for instance, is perhaps\nthe most influential, as he is without doubt not the least brilliant,\nof contemporary metaphysicians; he carries on the tradition of a\nschool of thought predominantly ethical; his first book was a defence\nof the ethical positions of that school; but, if we turn to the\nelaborate metaphysical treatise which has resulted from his mature\nreflexion, its most impressive feature will be found to be the almost\ncomplete bankruptcy of the system in the region of ethics.\n\nNot only had this idealist movement in its beginnings a predominantly\nethical tone. It was really started in the interest of moral ideals as\nwell as of intellectual thoroughness; and its contribution of greatest\nvalue to English thought was a work on ethics. The 'Prolegomena\nto Ethics' of T.H. Green was a fitting result of his unwearied\ncontroversies in defence of the spiritual nature of man and the\nuniverse. No one is more worthy than he to be called by the Platonic\nname a 'friend of ideas,' And he was a friend of ideas because he saw\ntheir necessity for maintaining and realising the higher capacities\nof human life. Green's 'Prolegomena' was published in 1883, the year\nafter his death. And, had I been speaking twenty years ago, I should\nhave had to emphasise the ethical character of the metaphysics of the\nday. His metaphysical thinking, through all its subtleties, never\nstrayed far from the moral ideal. Owing to his teaching that ideal,\nand the general character of the philosophy with which it was\nassociated, have permeated a great part of the better thought of the\npresent day, and have influenced its practical activities in various\ndirections,--social, political, and religious. But the magnetism of\nhis personality has been removed; and those whose business it is to\ntest intellectual notions have been impressed by the difficulties\ninvolved in Green's metaphysical positions and in his connexion of\nthem with morality.\n\nThe single word 'self-realisation' has been taken to express the view\nof the moral ideal enforced by Green. And it is as suitable as any\nsingle word could be. But it is clear that, in every action whatever\nof a conscious being, self-realisation may be said to be the end: some\ncapacity is being developed, satisfaction is being sought for some\ndesire. A man may develop his capacities, seek and to some extent\nattain satisfaction--in a manner, realise himself--not only in\ndevotion to a scientific or artistic ideal or in labours for the\ncommon good, but also in selfish pursuit of power or even in sensual\nenjoyment. So far as the word 'self-realisation' can be made to cover\nsuch different activities, it is void of moral content and cannot\nexpress the nature of the moral ideal. Green is perfectly alive to the\nneed of a distinction--and to the difficulty of drawing it. According\nto his own statement it is true not only of moral activity but of\nevery act of willing that in it \"a self-conscious individual directs\nhimself to the realisation of some idea, as to an object in which for\nthe time he seeks self-satisfaction.\"[1] And he proceeds to ask the\nquestion, \"How can there be any such intrinsic difference between the\nobjects willed as justifies the distinction which 'moral sense' seems\nto draw between good and bad action, between virtue and vice? And if\nthere is such a difference, in what does it consist?\"[2] Now we may\ndefine a good action as the sort of action which proceeds from a good\nman; or we may define a good man as a man who performs good actions.\nAnd for each method of definition something may be said. But if we\nadopt both methods together and say in one breath that good is what\nthe good man does and that the good man is he who does good, is our\nlogic any better than that of the ordination-candidate who defined the\nfunctions of an archdeacon as archdiaconal functions? And yet Green\ncomes very near to describing this logical circle. \"The moral good,\"\nhe says, is \"that which satisfies the desire of amoral agent\"; but\n\"the question, ... What do we mean by calling ourselves moral agents?\nis one to which a final answer cannot be given without an answer to\nthe question, What is moral good?\"[3]\n\n[Footnote 1: Prolegomena to Ethics, \u00a7 154, p. 160.]\n\n[Footnote 2: Ibid., \u00a7 156, p. 163.]\n\n[Footnote 3: Prolegomena to Ethics, \u00a7\u00a7 171, 172, p. 179.]\n\nWhen Green really grapples with the difficulty of distinguishing the\nmoral from the immoral in character or in conduct, it is possible\nto distinguish different ways in which he attempts to draw the\ndistinction--these different ways being, however, not independent but\ncomplementary to one another in his thought. The first suggestion is\nthat good is distinguished from evil, or the true good from a good\nwhich is merely apparent, by its permanence. It gives a lasting\nsatisfaction instead of a merely transient satisfaction: \"the true\ngood ... is an end in which the effort of a moral agent can really\nfind rest.\"[1] In this statement two points seem to be involved which\nthe use of the rather metaphorical term 'finding rest' tends to\nconfuse. If we are looking for the distinction simply of a good action\nor motive from a bad one we may point to the approval of conscience in\nthe former case: this has a permanence--or rather an independence of\ntime--which distinguishes it from the satisfaction of some temporary\ndesire. But I do not think that this is what Green means. He wished\nto avoid falling back upon mere disconnected judgments of conscience\nafter the manner of the intuitional moralists. The 'true good' for him\nseems to mean the attainment, the complete realisation, of the moral\nideal. Were this reached we should indeed 'find rest,' for moral\nactivity as we know it would be at an end. But the moral ideal\nis never thus attained; its realisation, as Green holds, is only\nprogressive and never completed. Consequently 'rest' is never 'found.'\nIt is of the nature of the moral life to press onward constantly\ntowards a goal which it cannot attain; each achievement leads to a\nfurther effort and a higher reach.\n\n[Footnote 1: Ibid., \u00a7 171, p. 179.]\n\nBy itself, therefore, the assertion that the moral agent 'finds rest'\nin the 'true good' does not enable us to distinguish the moral agent\nor the moral action from the immoral. For we are unable to define the\n'true good.' It is not a part of experience; it is an ideal: and Green\nallows that we can give no complete account of it; he even says\nthat we can give no positive account of it. At the same time this\nconsideration leads to another and connected method for distinguishing\ngood from evil.\n\n\"Of a life of completed development,\" Green holds, \"of activity with\nthe end attained, we can only speak or think in negatives, and thus\nonly can we speak or think of that state of being in which, according\nto our theory, the ultimate moral good must consist.\"[1] But the\ndevelopment is a real process which manifests itself in habits and\nsocial institutions; and from these its actual achievements we can to\na certain extent see what the moral capability of man \"has in it to\nbecome,\" and thus \"know enough of ultimate moral good to guide our\nconduct.\" One of the most valuable portions of Green's own work is his\ndescription of the gradual widening and purifying of human conceptions\nregarding goodness in character and conduct. But all this implies some\nstandard of discrimination and selection between what is good and\nwhat is evil in human achievement. Which developments are truly\nrealisations of \"the moral capability of man,\" and so tend to the\nattainment of ultimate good, and which developments are expressions\nof those capacities which seek an apparent good only and are to be\nclassed as evil, as impediments to the realisation of the good,--these\nhave to be discriminated; and is it so clear that from the mere record\nof human deeds we are able to draw the distinction? Do we not need\nsome criterion of goodness to guide our judgment? and does not Green\nhimself use such a criterion when he appeals to the tendency of\ncertain institutions and habits to \"make the welfare of all the\nwelfare of each,\" and of certain arts to make nature \"the friend of\nman\"?[2] Common welfare and the utilisation of nature in the service\nof man seem to be taken as tests of the true development of moral\ncapabilities. The criteria themselves may be excellent; but they\nare not got out of the mere record: they are brought by us to its\ncontemplation. To this special question I can find no answer in Green.\nHe is indeed aware that there is a difficulty; or rather he admits\nthat something has been \"taken for granted.\" He has assumed that\nthere is \"some best state of being for man\"; that this best state is\neternally present to a divine consciousness; and further, that this\n\"eternal mind\" is reproducing itself as the self of man.[3] On this\nsupposition only, he says, can our moral activity be explained; and\nhe holds that the supposition can be justified metaphysically and has\nbeen so justified by himself in the earlier part of his treatise.\n\n[Footnote 1: Prolegomena to Ethics, \u00a7 172, p. 180.]\n\n[Footnote 2: Prolegomena, \u00a7 172, p. 180.]\n\n[Footnote 3: Ibid., \u00a7\u00a7 173, 174, p. 181.]\n\nNow I am willing to admit that Green showed a correct instinct in\nexamining the nature of man before entering upon his properly ethical\nenquiry. One must know what man is before one can say what his\n'good' or his duty is; and it is only because man's nature cannot be\naccounted for as a merely natural or animal product that the way is\nopen for an idealist ethics such as Green's. But perhaps Green laid\ntoo much stress on the problem of historical causation. What matters\nit how we came by our knowledge, provided it is the case that we can\nknow ourselves and the world? If we can now distinguish right and\nwrong, can ally ourselves with the good, and follow a moral ideal, of\nwhat great importance are the steps by which the moral consciousness\nwas attained? And the question here is whether the special results\nreached by Green in his metaphysical enquiry into human nature have\nbrought us any nearer to a solution of the present ethical difficulty.\nAs we have seen, the metaphysical view which Green arrives at is that\nthe consciousness which is in man and which raises him above nature\nis the manifestation of--the \"reproduction\" of itself by--an eternal\nself-consciousness. Man's own self-consciousness in knowledge and\nvolition is simply God's self--consciousness \"reproduced\" (to use\nGreen's term) in man's animal nature: so that the animal body and\nits temporal activities become in some unexplained (and no doubt\ninexplicable) way \"organic\" (to use Green's terminology once more,\nwhere no terminology seems adequate) to a spiritual reality which is\neternal and infinite.\n\nI am far from denying the greatness of this conception or its\npractical value. There is no stronger support to moral endeavour than\nthe conviction that the moral life is a realisation of the divine\npurpose, that in all goodness the spirit of God is manifest, that the\ngood man is the servant of God or even His fellow-worker. By whatever\nmetaphor this may be expressed--and Green's statement that the divine\nself--consciousness 'reproduces' itself in human morality is also\na metaphor--it betrays the assurance that moral achievement is\npermanent, and that (in spite of all apparent failures) goodness will\nprevail. He who fights for the good may be confident of victory.\n\nThis is the practical value of the conception; but in order that it\nmay have this practical value, the distinction of good from evil\nmust be first of all made clear. Green's appeal to an eternal\nself-consciousness does nothing of itself to elucidate this\ndistinction. Tendencies to exalt selfish interest over common welfare,\nand to prefer sensual to what are called higher gratifications, enter\ninto the nature of man, and have fashioned his history. Green does\nnot even ask the question whether these also are not to be considered\nmanifestations or 'reproductions' of the eternal self-consciousness.\nBut his metaphysical view does not exclude them; and if they are\nincluded, morality disappears for lack of any criterion between good\nand evil. If good is to be discriminated from evil, it must be by some\nother means than by describing the whole conscious activity of man as\na reproduction of the divine. Instead of doing anything to solve the\nproblem of the meaning of goodness, Green simply brings forward a new\ndifficulty--that of understanding how the temporal process in which\nhuman morality is developed can be related to a reality which is\ndefined as out of time or eternal. This difficulty cannot be avoided\nin a metaphysical theory of morality. And it does not stand alone.\nGreen's own dialectics were directed against the Sensationalist and\nHedonist theories which used to be regarded as typical of English\nthought; and on them they acted as a powerful solvent. His own views\nof the spiritual nature of man and its relation to the eternal\nself-consciousness were worked out with the confidence and enthusiasm\nof a reformer rather than with the caution of a critic. But criticism\nhas followed, and not only from the representatives of opposed\nschools. Writers whose intellectual affinities are on the whole the\nsame as his have let their dialectic play around his fundamental\nconceptions with a result very different from that which he\ncontemplated. Mr Bradley, like Green, has faith in an eternal Reality,\nwhich might be called spiritual, inasmuch as it is not material; like\nGreen, he looks upon man's moral activity as an appearance--what Green\ncalls a reproduction--of this eternal reality. But under this general\nagreement there lies a world of difference. He refuses, by the use of\nthe term self-consciousness, to liken his Absolute to the personality\nof man, and he brings out the consequence, which in Green is more or\nless concealed, that the evil equally with the good in man and in the\nworld are appearances of the Absolute.\n\nMr Bradley's whole work is ruled by the distinction between\n\"Appearance\" and \"Reality,\" which gives his book a title. On the\none hand there is the Absolute Reality, spoken of as perfect, and\ndescribed as all--comprehensive and harmonious throughout. Neither\nchange nor time nor any relation can belong to it. But intelligence\nworks by discrimination and comparison; knowledge implies relations;\nit is, therefore, excluded from reality. Truth is mere appearance. The\nsame judgment must be passed on our moral activity. We strive after\nand perhaps reach an ideal, or, as Mr Bradley says, we aim at\nsatisfying a desire; and this, too, is a process far removed from\nreality.[1] Goodness, like truth, is mere appearance.\n\n[Footnote 1: Appearance and Reality, pp. 402, 410.]\n\nThis needs no elaboration. If all predication involves relation, and\nrelation is excluded from reality,[1] then no predicate--not even\ntruth or goodness--can be asserted of the real. Nay more, to be\nconsistent, we ought not even to say that reality or the Absolute\n(for the two terms are here interchangeable) is perfect, or one, or\nall-comprehensive, or harmonious: for all these are predicates. _Ens\nrealissimum_ is the only _ens reale_; all else is mere appearance.\n\n[Footnote 1: Ibid., pp. 32-34.]\n\nJust here, however, lies an indication of another line of thought. For\nwhat is an appearance, and what is it that appears? It can only be\nreality that thus appears; the 'mere' appearance is yet an 'appearance\nof reality.' It might seem that this is to catch, not at a straw, but\nat the shadow of a straw. For if we say that 'reality appears,' are\nwe not thereby predicating something of reality, making it enter into\nrelation? But let that pass. Among these appearances we may be able to\ndistinguish degrees of significance or of adequacy, nay--strange as\nit may seem to the reader who has followed Mr Bradley's first line of\nthought--\"degrees of reality.\" Relations are excluded from reality;\nand degree is a relation; but reality has degrees. The logic is\nunsatisfactory, but the conclusion may perhaps have a value of its\nown.\n\nHere, then, is another view of the universe--not an unchanging,\nrelationless, eternal reality, but varying degrees of reality\nmanifested in that complex process which we call sometimes the world\nand sometimes 'experience,' But the two views are connected. For it is\nassumed that the Absolute Reality is harmonious and all-comprehensive;\nand it is further asserted that these two characteristics of harmony\nand comprehensiveness may be taken as criteria of the \"degree of\nreality\" possessed by any \"appearance.\" The more harmonious anything\nis--the fewer its internal discrepancies or contradictions--the higher\nis its degree of reality; and the greater its comprehensiveness--the\nfewer predicates left outside it--the higher also is its degree of\nreality. No attempt is made at a measured scale of degrees of reality,\nsuch, for example, as is offered by the Hegelian dialectic; but a sort\nof rough classification of various 'appearances' is offered. In this\nclassification a place is given to goodness which is comparatively\nhigh, and yet \"subordinate\" and \"self-contradictory.\" [1]\n\n[Footnote 1: Appearance and Reality, p. 420.]\n\nMr Bradley's Absolute, we may say, has two faces, one of which is\ndescribed as good, while the other is inscrutable. \"Obviously,\" he says,\n\"the good is not the Whole, and the Whole, as such, is not good. And,\nviewed thus in relation to the Absolute, there is nothing either bad or\ngood, there is not anything better or worse. For the Absolute is _not_\nits appearances.\" This is the inscrutable side. But yet \"the Absolute\nappears in its phenomena and is real nowhere outside them;... it is all\nof them in unity. And so, regarded from this other side, the Absolute\n_is_ good, and it manifests itself throughout in various degrees of\ngoodness and badness.\"[1] What would be contradiction in another writer\nis only two-sidedness in Mr Bradley. And it is this second side which\ninterests us, for here \"the Absolute _is_ good,\" and yet, good as it is,\nmanifests itself in badness as well as goodness, and that in various\ndegrees. If we are to follow another statement of the doctrine, however,\nwe shall have to allow that the \"badness\" is also good, and that the\n\"various degrees\" are all equal. For \"the Absolute is perfect in all its\ndetail, it is equally true and good throughout.\"[2] Whether or not the\ngood is contradictory, as Mr Bradley maintains,[3] we must allow that he\nsucceeds in making his account of it contradictory.\n\n[Footnote 1: Appearance and Reality, p. 411.]\n\n[Footnote 2: Ibid., p. 401.]\n\n[Footnote 3: Ibid., p. 409.]\n\nI will try to put the gist of the matter in my own words. Mr Bradley's\nAbsolute is eternal, relationless, ineffable. To it goodness cannot be\nascribed; indeed no predicate can be properly applied to it, for any\npredication implies relation: in earlier language than Mr Bradley's it\ninvolves determination and therefore negation. Even to say that the\nAbsolute appears or manifests itself is to predicate something, to\nimply relation, and thus is an offence against the absoluteness of the\nAbsolute. But nevertheless there _is_ a world of phenomena, which the\nmost mystical of philosophers must recognise, if only as a world\nof illusion. The sum-total of these phenomena may be called the\nappearances of the Absolute; and the Absolute, according to Mr\nBradley, \"is real nowhere outside them.\" In this sense of reality we\nmay make predicates about it. Indeed all our predicates, Mr Bradley\nteaches in his 'Logic,' have reality--the universe of reality--for\ntheir ultimate subject.\n\nIn this sense it may be possible to speak of reality as good (though\nit is a misapplication of the term \"Absolute\" to call it good). But\nthe question remains what we mean by \"good\" in this connexion, and\nwhat justification we have for using the predicate. And the answer\nmust be that Mr Bradley means very little, since the goodness is\nmanifested \"in various degrees of goodness and badness,\" and that the\njustification for using the term is not made clear. It seems to\nbe used of reality in a somewhat vague sense, as it were _jure\ndignitatis_ and to have as little ethical significance as \"right\nhonourable\" when applied to a politician or \"reverend\" to a clergyman:\ncases in which it might be consistent to say that right honourable\ngentlemen manifest various degrees of honour and dishonour, or that\nreverend gentlemen are worthy of various degrees of reverence and the\nopposite. All the details of the phenomenal world are bound together\nby chains of necessity; each is an essential part of the sum-total.[1]\nHow can the distinction of good and evil apply as between these parts?\n\n[Footnote 1: Appearance and Reality-Appearance and Reality, p. 401.]\n\nWe may speak of parts as higher or lower; and Mr Bradley defines the\n\"lower\" as \"that which, to be made complete, would have to undergo a\nmore total transformation of its nature.\"[1] The meaning of this is\nnot clear. The reference may be to the complete state which a thing\nmay reach in process of growth. Thus an early stage of a rose-bud\nmay be said to be \"lower\" than its later stage because it requires a\ngreater transformation before it produces the bloom. But here 'lower'\ndoes not mean ethically lower, unless immaturity be confused with\nevil. Or the complete state may be regarded as the type of some order\nor class, from which different individuals differ in greater or less\ndegree. This meaning is not suggested by the author; and it could have\nethical implication only if the type had been first of all shown to\nhave an ethical value. Or again, the completeness referred to may be\nthat which is alone complete in the strict sense of the word, namely,\nthe universe. And we might say that a rose-leaf would require greater\ntransformation in order to become complete in this sense than a\nrose-bush, or that the act of giving a cup of cold water was less\ncomplete than the far-reaching activity say of the first Napoleon.\nBut this difference in completeness would not entail a corresponding\ndifference in moral worth or goodness.\n\n[Footnote 1: Appearance and Reality, p. 401.]\n\nWhere all stages are essential, it is not possible to say that one\nis good and another evil. Is not the good something that ought to be\nstriven for, attained, and preserved? and is not evil something that\nought not to be at all? And how can we say that any part ought not to\nbe when every part is essential?\n\nFrom the monistic view of reality, as set forth by Mr Bradley, there\nis no direct route to the distinction between good and evil. If the\ndistinction is reached at all, it will be found to be psychological\nrather than cosmical, to be relative to the attitude of the human mind\nwhich contemplates the facts, and in this strict sense to be, what Mr\nBradley calls it, appearance.\n\nAnd this is the view which Mr Bradley takes when he proceeds to describe\nwhat he means by the 'good.' It is, he says, \"that which satisfies\ndesire. It is that which we approve of, and in which we can rest with a\nfeeling of contentment.\"[1] \"Desire\"--\"approval\"--\"feeling\"--to these\nmental attitudes the good is relative: they are expressed in its\ndefinition. Mr Bradley, it will be seen, re-states Green's doctrine with\na difference which makes it at once more logical and less ethical. Green\nhad said that \"the moral good is that which satisfies the desire of a\nmoral agent\"; and in so saying had simply walked round the difficulty,\nfor he was unable to say wherein consisted the peculiarity of the moral\nagent without reference to the conception of moral good which he had\nstarted out to define. But Mr Bradley dispenses with the qualification,\nand says simply that the good \"satisfies desire.\" And in so far his\ndefinition is more logical. The question is whether it distinguishes\ngood from evil. Both the practical importance and the theoretical\ndifficulty of the problem arise from the fact that evil is sometimes\ndesired, and that the evil desire may be satisfied. The desire of a\nmalevolent man may be satisfied by another's downfall, and his mind may\neven \"rest with a feeling of contentment\" in that result, much in the\nsame way as the benevolent man is satisfied and content with another's\nhappiness. Fortunately, the case is not so common: the dominant leanings\nof most men are in sympathy with good rather than with evil: but it is\ncommon enough to make the emotional characteristics of the individual an\nuncertain basis on which to rest the distinction of good from evil.\n\n[Footnote 1: Appearance and Reality, p. 402.]\n\nThere is also another way of putting the matter: \"the good is\ncoextensive with approbation.\"[1] If by 'approbation' we mean simply\n'holding for good,' then the sentence will mean that the good is what\nwe hold for good--that is to say, that our judgments about good\nare always true judgments,--a proposition which either ignores the\ndivergence between different individual judgments about good, or else\nimplies a complete relativity such that that is good to each man at\nany time which he at that time approves or holds to be good; and this\nlatter view would make all discussion impossible. But this is not what\nMr Bradley means. \"Approbation is to be taken in its widest sense\";\nin which sense \"to approve is to have an idea in which we feel\nsatisfaction, and to have or imagine the presence of this idea in\nexistence.\"[2] And here the criterion is the same as before, and\nequally subjective. In desire idea and existence are separated; they\nare united in the satisfaction of desire; and approbation is said to\nbe just the feeling of satisfaction in an idea which is also present\n(or imagined as present) in existence. Not only actual satisfaction of\nthe desire but also imagined satisfaction is covered by \"approbation\";\nbut this approval is still simply a feeling of some individual person.\n\n[Footnote 1: Appearance and Reality, p. 407]\n\n[Footnote 2: Appearance and Reality, p. 418.]\n\nWe need not concern ourselves at present with the adequacy of this\nstatement as an account of the way in which we come to 'approve' or\nhold something as good. The point is, that it does not advance us at\nall towards determining the validity of this approval, or towards an\nobjective criterion for distinguishing 'good' from evil.\n\nMr Bradley draws a distinction between a general and a more special\nor restricted meaning of goodness. For the former it is enough that\nexistence be \"_found_ to be in accordance with the idea\"; for the\nlatter, it is necessary that the idea itself produce the fact.[1]\nIn the former sense \"beauty, truth, pleasure, and sensation are all\nthings that are good,\"[2] quite irrespective of their origin; in the\nlatter sense, only that is good which the idea has produced, or in\nwhich it has realised itself, which is the work, therefore, of some\nfinite soul. In this narrower meaning goodness is the result of will:\n\"the good, in short, will become the realised end or completed will.\nIt is now an idea which not only _has_ an answering content in fact,\nbut, in addition also, has _made_, and has brought about, that\ncorrespondence.... Goodness thus will be confined to the realm of\nends, or of self-realisation. It will be restricted, in other words,\nto what is commonly called the sphere of morality,\"[3] Even in its\nmore general meaning, as we have seen, Mr Bradley has not succeeded in\ngiving an objective account of good. For the correspondence of idea\nand existence in which it is said to consist is defined in relation\nto desire, and to some kind of feeling on the part of the conscious\nsubject. Nor was his account successful in distinguishing good from\nevil: to that distinction feeling is a blind guide. When he goes on\nto discuss goodness in the narrower sense, in which it belongs to the\nresults of finite volition, he adopts, as expressing the nature of\ngoodness, that conception of 'self-realisation' which, as put forward\nby Green, has been found inadequate. The same conception was used by\nMr Bradley, in his first work, as \"the most general expression for the\nend in itself,\" \"May we not say,\" he asked, \"that to realise self is\nalways to realise a whole, and that the question in morals is to find\nthe true whole, realising which will practically realise the true\nself?\"[4] It is easy to make the distinction between good and evil\ndepend upon this, that in the former the true self is realised, and\nthat what is realised in the latter is only a false self. But it is\nequally easy to see that this is only to substitute one unexplained\ndistinction for another. This short and easy method is not that which\nMr Bradley adopts in his later work. He has something of much greater\ninterest to say regarding the nature of the self-realisation in which\ngoodness is made to consist; and upon it he lays stress, \"solely with\na view to bring out the radical vice of all goodness.\"[5] Goodness,\nit is said, is self-realisation; and Reality--it was assumed at the\noutset--is harmonious and all-comprehensive. These last characters are\nalso criteria of degrees of reality, and consequently of degrees\nof self-realisation. There are, therefore, two marks of\nself-realisation--harmony and extent; and these two may and do\ndiverge. No doubt \"in the end,\" they will come together; but \"in that\nend goodness, as such, will have perished.\"[6] \"We must admit,\" says\nMr Bradley, \"that two great divergent forms of moral goodness exist.\nIn order to realise the idea of a perfect self a man may have to\nchoose between two partially conflicting methods. Morality, in short,\nmay dictate either self--sacrifice or self--assertion,\"[7] \"The\nconscious duplicity of the hypocrite,\" according to an outspoken\nadherent of Mr Bradley's, is \"but the natural exaggeration of the\nunconscious duplicity which resides in the very heart of morality.\"[8]\n\n[Footnote 1: Appearance and Reality, p. 412.]\n\n[Footnote 2: Ibid., p. 410.]\n\n[Footnote 3: Appearance and Reality, pp. 412, 413.]\n\n[Footnote 4: Ethical Studies (1876), pp. 59, 63.]\n\n[Footnote 5: Appearance and Reality, p. 414.]\n\n[Footnote 6: Appearance and Reality, p. 414.]\n\n[Footnote 7: Ibid., p. 415.]\n\n[Footnote 8: A.E. Taylor, Problem of Conduct (1901), p. 65.]\n\nIt is worth while considering this view of the contradictions inherent\nin morality. To start with, goodness was defined by relation to\ndesire: the good was said to be what satisfies desire. Desire is\nplainly a mental state in which idea and existence are separated. As\nsuch it cannot be attributed to the Absolute Reality. It will involve\na contradiction, therefore, if we identify goodness with Absolute\nReality; for goodness implies a distinction (between idea and\nexistence) which cannot find place in the Absolute. But if \"degrees\"\nof reality be asserted, we must admit stages short of the Absolute,\nand goodness may belong to such a stage in which process or\ndevelopment is allowed as a fact. But Mr Bradley will have it not only\nthat it is a contradiction to identify this process with the Absolute,\nbut also that the conception of goodness is itself contradictory. \"A\nsatisfied desire,\" he says, \"is, in short, inconsistent with itself.\nFor, so far as it is quite satisfied, it is not a desire; and, so far\nas it is a desire, it must remain at least partly unsatisfied.\"[1] Of\ncourse, if the desire is satisfied, it ceases. It was and it is not.\nBut there is no more contradiction here than in any other case of\ntemporal succession. A satisfied desire is, it is true, no longer a\ndesire. But the phrase is contradictory only in appearance; for it\nmeans that the desire has been satisfied and in its satisfaction has\nceased to exist as a desire. A much more important discrepancy is\nasserted when it is said that \"two great divergent forms of moral\ngoodness exist.\" The fight for moral goodness is 'under two\nflags'--self-assertion and self-sacrifice. And the allies \"seem\nhostile to one another,\" \"at least in some respects and with some\npersons.\"[2] We have here the time-honoured opposition of egoism and\naltruism, with a difference. Mr Bradley's most notable adherent in the\nregion of ethical enquiry prefers to overlook the difference and\nto return to the older opposition of conflicting ideals.[3] But Mr\nBradley himself declines to rate the social factor in conduct so\nhigh. It is not altruism or social activity which is the opponent of\nself-assertion or egoism, but self-sacrifice; and both self-assertion\nand self-sacrifice are kinds of self-realisation: in the former the\nself seeks its realisation by perfecting its harmony; in the latter,\nby increasing its extent. It is not in content that the two modes of\nself-realisation differ: social factors, for instance, may enter into\nboth; it is in the diverse uses made of the contents:[4] 'system' is\naimed at in the one; 'width' in the other.[5] The harmony of these two\nmethods is attained only when both morality and the individual self\nare \"transcended and submerged.\"[6]\n\n[Footnote 1: Appearance and Reality, p. 410.]\n\n[Footnote 2: Appearance and Reality, p. 415.]\n\n[Footnote 3: Taylor, Problem of Conduct, p. 179 ff.]\n\n[Footnote 4: Appearance and Reality, p. 416.]\n\n[Footnote 5: Ibid., p. 414.]\n\n[Footnote 6: Ibid., p. 419.]\n\nThis discrepancy of aim, and then coming together of the hostile\nfactors only in the annulling and disappearance of both, is a process\nquite in accordance with the general dialectic of Mr Bradley. But two\nthings may be noted with regard to it. In the first place the effort\nafter system is called self-assertion, and the effort after width or\nexpansion is called self-sacrifice. Perhaps the author may claim a\nright to give what names he likes to the processes he describes. But\nin this case the names have a recognised meaning in the literature of\nmorals, and no hint is given that they are used here in any meaning\nother than the ordinary. And surely the term 'self-sacrifice' is an\ninappropriate term for describing the conduct which seeks expansion by\nmultiplying the objects of desire--by the pursuit of whatever offers a\nchance of widened interests, whether social or intellectual, aesthetic\nor sensual,--even although \"my individuality suffers loss\" thereby,\nand \"the health and harmony of my self is injured.\"[1] Loss may be the\nresult; but aggrandisement is what is sought, though the effort fails\nthrough lack of organisation or system. And again 'self' is not the\nonly possible centre for the systematisation of conduct. System in\nconduct may be realised in other ways than as self-assertion. It is\nsought as truly by the man of science who gives up everything for\nthe pursuit of truth or by the philanthropist who forgets himself in\npromoting the social welfare. Such modes of life as these--and not\nmerely self-assertive conduct--may become centres of a moral activity\nwhich aims at system.\n\n[Footnote 1: Appearance and Reality, p, 417.]\n\nThe second remark which has to be made on this final point is, that\nneither on the method of system and self-assertion nor on the method\nof expansion and self-sacrifice has the author given or suggested any\ncriterion for the distinction of good and evil. He has cast his net\nso wide as to include all conduct within it without discrimination of\nmoral worth. His own result is that \"the good is, as such, transcended\nand submerged.\"[1] But this result loses all significance if it is the\ncase, as our enquiry seems to prove, that the good as such has\nnever been reached at all, nor any tenable suggestion offered for\ndistinguishing it from evil.\n\n[Footnote 1: Appearance and Reality, p. 419.]\n\nThis is the fundamental question for any philosophy of ethics; but it\nreceives no answer at all from the prevailing school of metaphysical\nthought. This school offers no solution of the problem which was found\ninsoluble by the type of philosophy whose aim is to co-ordinate the\nresults of science. A comparison of the purposes and results of the\ntwo schools may be instructive.\n\nMr Herbert Spencer has told us that since the time of his first essay,\n\"written as far back as 1842,\" his \"ultimate purpose, lying behind all\nproximate purposes, has been that of finding for the principles of right\nand wrong in conduct at large a scientific basis.... Now that moral\ninjunctions are losing the authority given by their supposed sacred\norigin, the secularisation of morals is becoming imperative. Few things\ncan happen more disastrous than the decay and death of a regulative\nsystem no longer fit, before another and fitter regulative system has\ngrown up to replace it.... Those who believe that the vacuum can be\nfilled, and that it must be filled, are called on to do something in\npursuance of their belief.\"[1] But more than fifty years after the\npublication of this first essay, as, with the completion of the\n'Principles of Ethics,' his whole system of philosophy lay unrolled\nbefore him, he made the significant and pathetic confession that \"the\ndoctrine of evolution has not furnished guidance to the extent I had\nhoped.... Right regulation of the actions of so complex a being as man,\nliving under conditions so complex as those presented by a society,\nevidently forms a subject-matter unlikely to admit of definite\nconclusions throughout its entire range.\"[2] And the lack of confidence\nwhich the author himself felt in these parts, there is good reason to\nextend to the whole structure of evolutionary ethics.\n\n[Footnote 1: Preface to Data of Ethics, 1879.]\n\n[Footnote 2: Preface to Principles of Ethics, vol. ii., 1893.]\n\nNeither the purpose of their structure nor its collapse is so\nexplicitly proclaimed by the metaphysicians with whom this lecture has\ndealt. But we hardly need to read between the lines in order to see\nthe prominence of the moral interest in all that Green wrote; and it\nwas after he had shown the inadequacy of the empirical method in the\nhands of Hume to give any criterion or ideal for conduct that he made\nhis significant appeal to \"Englishmen under five-and-twenty\" to leave\n\"the anachronistic systems hitherto prevalent amongst us\" and take up\n\"the study of Kant and Hegel.\"[1] His call to speculation has been\nwidely responded to; but, if we turn to the most important product of\nthis speculative movement, we have to extract what enlightenment we\ncan from the dictum that, in the only sense in which the Absolute\nis good, it \"manifests itself in various degrees of goodness and\nbadness.\"[2]\n\n[Footnote 1: Green, Introduction to Hume's Treatise (1874), ii. 71.]\n\n[Footnote 2: Bradley, Appearance and Reality, p. 411.]\n\nThe most notable recent systems of philosophy, idealist as well as\nnaturalist, are thus presented to us, almost confessedly, as void of\napplication to conduct. This result, and foresight of this result,\nhave led to a widespread suspicion of any attempt at ethical\nconstruction which is based upon a theory of reality. In consequence,\nrecourse is sometimes had to a purely empirical treatment of morality\nsuch as that indicated at the close of the second lecture. Such an\naccount, however, can never rise from the description of conduct to\nsetting up an ideal for life. And accordingly some thinkers have\nremained convinced of the necessity of ideals for the moral life,\nalthough unable to find an adequate ground for these ideals in their\nsystem of reality.\n\nThis attitude was adopted by F.A. Lange, who, at the close of his\nHistory of Materialism, declared that there was need for an Ideal of\nWorth to supplement the deficiencies of the facts of being. \"One thing\nis certain,\" he said, \"that man needs to supplement reality by an\nIdeal World of his own creation, and that in such creations the\nhighest and noblest functions of his mind co-operate. But must this\nfree act of the mind bear ever and ever again the deceptive form of\ndemonstrative science? If it does so, materialism will always reappear\nand destroy the over-bold speculations.\"[1] It would thus seem that\nmoral life postulates an ideal which the mind is able to frame, but\nfor which it can establish no connexion with the world of reality.\n\n[Footnote 1: Geschichte des Materialismus, 3rd ed., p. 545 f.]\n\nMore recently a brilliant French writer, who has attempted to\nestablish a system of \"morality without obligation or sanction,\" has\nsuggested that the place of the categorical law of duty may be taken\nby a speculative hypothesis, and that hope may serve where there is no\nground for belief. \"The speculative hypothesis is a risk taken in the\nsphere of thought; action in accordance with this hypothesis is a\nrisk taken in the sphere of will; and that being is higher who will\nundertake and risk the more whether in thought or action.\"[1] Thus,\n\"for example, if I would perform an act of charity pure and simple,\nand wish to justify this act rationally, I must imagine an eternal\nCharity at the ground of things and of myself, I must objectify the\nsentiment which leads to my action; and here the moral agent plays\nthe same _r\u00f4le_ as the artist.... In every human action there is\nan element of error, of illusion\": and it is conjectured that this\nelement increases as the action rises above the commonplace: \"the most\nloving hearts are the most often deceived, in the highest geniuses the\ngreatest incoherences are often found.\"[2]\n\n[Footnote 1: Guyau, Esquisse d'une morale sans obligation ni sanction\n(1885) p. 250.]\n\n[Footnote 2: Ibid., pp. 226, 227.]\n\nThis solution can hardly be regarded as other than a counsel of\ndespair. Its ethical value is merely apparent. What is of importance\nfor ethics is not so much the presence of some ideal: it is the kind\nof ideal that matters. It is possible to have an ideal of selfishness\nas well as an ideal of love, a sensual ideal as well as a spiritual.\nNietzsche's over-man is an ideal; the Mohammedan paradise is an ideal;\nand conduct can be modelled on them. But it is not enough to have\nsystem in conduct, irrespective of the worth of the ideal which\ndetermines the system. Some criterion is needed for deciding between\ncompeting ideals. As long as they are looked upon as mere illusions,\nas expressions of doubt, or as a hazard staked on the unknowable,\ncaprice takes the place of law; where all is equally uncertain there\nis no security for the worth of the ideal itself.\n\nUnsatisfactory as they are in this form, the opinions referred to are\nechoes of a pregnant doctrine of Kant's--the doctrine that the moral\nconsciousness brings us into closer touch with reality than the merely\ntheoretical reason can reach. Various lines of recent thought may\nbe said to have been suggested by this view. Almost every idealist\nmetaphysician has tended to look upon thought itself as constituting\nthe inmost reality of the universe which it conceives or understands;\nand Kant's doctrine may make us pause and ask whether this tendency is\nnot simply an assumption without warrant.\n\nAgain, the psychological analysis of knowledge has brought out the\nfact of its constant dependence upon practical interests. It is the\nneed to perform or attain something, which is the motive that leads\nto the understanding of things; and the understanding of things with\nwhich alone we are satisfied is commonly that which helps us so to\ndescribe our experience as to be able to control some practical\nresult. 'Knowledge is power'; and not only so, but in its early stages\nand in most of its later developments, knowledge is _for_ power: it is\nfor purposes of his own that man becomes the 'interpreter of nature.'\n\nIt is to men of science rather than to philosophers that we owe the\n'descriptive theory' of scientific concepts which, within the last\nfew years, has gone far to revolutionise the prevailing attitude of\nphilosophy to science. Concepts, such as 'mass,' 'energy,' and the\nlike, are no longer held to express realities the denial of which\nwould be treason to science; they are simply descriptive notions whose\ntruth consists in their utility: that is to say, in their ability to\ncomprehend all the relevant facts in a simple description. And, in the\nsame way, scientific principles are of the nature of postulates, whose\njustification is no necessary law of thought, but must rather be\nsought in the results of scientific investigation.\n\nThese three doctrines--the descriptive theory of science, the\npractical nature of knowledge as it is brought out by psychological\nanalysis, and the special claims of the moral consciousness--have\ncombined to bring about a tendency strongly opposed to the older\nidealist tradition, the tendency to regard practical results as the\nsole test of truth.\n\nThis conception is put forward now in philosophical literature as\na new and independent point of view. The point of view is only in\nprocess of being hardened into a theory; but, under the name\nof Pragmatism, it has already become the subject of a vigorous\npropaganda. With the value of this doctrine as a general theory of\nreality we need not at present concern ourselves. In spite of the high\nclaims it makes for the theoretical significance of moral ideas, its\nadherents have not as yet devoted much attention to the question of\nthe worth of these moral ideas and the criteria by which that worth\nmay be determined. Yet this surely is the fundamental question for\nethical theory. On the other hand, as against a merely theoretical\ninterpretation of the universe, into which the moral element enters\nonly as a sort of loosely-connected appendix, the pragmatists are\namply justified. Practical ends are prior to theoretical explanations\nof what happens. But practical ends vary, and some measure of their\nrelative values is needed.\n\nThere is one thing which all reasoning about morality assumes and\nmust assume; and that is morality itself. The moral concept--whether\ndescribed as worth or as duty or as goodness--cannot be distilled out\nof any knowledge about the laws of existence or of occurrence. Nor\nwill speculation about the real conditions of experience yield it,\nunless adequate recognition be first of all given to the fact that the\nexperience which is the subject-matter of philosophy is not merely a\nsensuous and thinking, but also a moral, experience. The approval\nof the good, the disapproval of the evil, and the preference of\nthe better: these would seem to be basal facts for an adequate\nphilosophical theory: and they imply the striving for a best--however\nimperfect the apprehension of that best may always remain. Only\nwhen these facts--the characteristic facts of moral experience--are\nrecognised as constituents of the experience which is our\nsubject-matter, are we in a position profitably to enquire what is\ngood and what evil, and how the best is to be conceived.\n\nThe recognition of these facts would only be a beginning; but it would\nbe a beginning which would avoid the cardinal error fallen into not\nonly by the leading exponents of evolutionist morality, but also to be\nfound in much of the ethical work of idealist metaphysicians. It seems\nto have been assumed that moral principles can be reached by the\napplication of scientific generalisations or of the results of a\nmetaphysical analysis which has started by overlooking the facts\nof the moral consciousness. Even as a metaphysic this procedure is\ninadequate; and the interpretations of reality to which it has led\nhave erred by over-intellectuality.\n\nThe systems of naturalism and of idealism, whose ethical consequences\nhave been passed in review, have one feature in common; and it is\na feature which from of old has been regarded as a mark of genuine\nphilosophy. They both seek the One in the many; but they seek it on\ndifferent roads. For the naturalist the most comprehensive description\nof things may be the conception of mass-points in motion; or it may be\nsome more recondite conception to which physical analysis points. In\neither case the unity reached will be mechanical. For the idealist,\non the other hand, reason may be said to be the central principle of\nthings: the unity of reality is a rational unity. I have contended in\nthese lectures that neither the mechanical unity of the naturalists\nnor the rational unity of the idealists has succeeded in comprehending\nwithin its unifying principle the essential nature of morality with\nits deep-going dualism of good and evil. But while I have maintained\nthat even the conception of reality as the reproduction of itself by\nan eternal self-consciousness is an inadequate conception, it is still\npossible to hold that reality is a connected whole, and that its true\nprinciple of unity is an ethical principle.\n\nIf I were asked what is meant by an ethical unity, I should answer, in\nthe first place, that it implies purpose. The unity of reality is not\nexhibited by a description of its present or past conditions or even\nby an account of its causal connexions. These modes of description are\nall affected by the fragmentariness which always belongs to temporal\napprehension. But, when things are seen in the light of a purpose, a\nview of them as a whole becomes possible, and the fragmentariness of\ntime is transcended. And, in the second place, I should say that an\nethical unity implies the presence within itself of different finite\ncentres of conscious activity, whose freedom is not inconsistent with\ntheir relation to one another and to the Whole.\n\nIn his own life, so far as it is a moral life, each individual seeks\nsystem or unity. And this unity is realised on three different\nlevels--as we may call them--which may be distinguished for clearness'\nsake, though it is not possible actually to separate them. On each\nlevel morality is realised through system, and system is brought about\nby the rule of the morally higher and the submission of the morally\nlower: in this goodness lies, in the opposite evil. If we isolate the\nindividual and consider him apart, he may be said to attain goodness\nby the due ordering and control of his sensuous and passional\nnature by rational or spiritual ends. The result may be described,\nnegatively, as the suppression of sensualism. But the positive\ndescription remains imperfect until we can say what the rational\nor spiritual principle is which is to weld all man's 'particular\nimpulses' into an organic whole.\n\nAnd this cannot be done so long as we contemplate the mere individual\nin isolation. We cannot remain at the level of bare individuality.\nPersonality itself is not a merely individual product: neither the\nknowledge nor the activity of the individual can be explained without\nreference to his position as a member of society; his inheritance is a\nsocial inheritance. Nor can the individual establish a claim to deal\nwith his own personality as a merely individual end. It is a factor in\nsocial life; and, in systematising his own life, he must have regard\nto the social factor. In this respect he attains goodness only\nwhen his individual life seeks a unity higher than that of his own\nindividuality, and not centred in his selfish interests. From this\npoint of view we may say, again negatively, that goodness consists in\nthe suppression of selfishness. But once again there is a difficulty\nabout the positive description. Many moralists, undoubtedly, are\ncontent to rest with the social aspect: to regard the 'health' or\n'vitality' of society as the final expression of morality. But a life\nwhich is simply absorbed by society cannot be said to be a perfect\nunity. Society itself is a process; and its changes are determined in\nlarge measure by the moral ideals of its members. For its unity we\nmust look to an end--an ideal--of which its actual forms can offer\nindications only. Both man and society are factors in a universal\norder; and their perfection cannot be independent of the purpose of\nthis order. When the consciousness of it fills man's life, morality is\nmerged in religion.\n\n\n\n\nINDEX.\n\n\nAbsolute, the, 101 ff.\n  as good, 105.\n  as not good, 104.\nAltruism, 15 ff., 74 f., 118.\nAppearance, 101 ff.\nApprobation, 111 ff.\nAristotle, 87.\nArtificial selection, 61 ff.\nAusten, Jane, 4 n.\n\nBenevolence, 16.\nBentham, J., 4 n.\nBradley, F.H., 88, 100 ff.\nBrowning, R., 31.\n\nCharacteristics of goodness, 113.\n  reality, 103.\nCompetition between groups, 52 f., 58, 74, 79.\n  ideas, 53 ff.\n  individuals, 52, 74, 79.\nContent of morality, agreement as to, 7.\nChristian morality, 7, 18, 20.\nCosmic process and moral order, 46 ff.\n\nDarwin, C., 35 ff., 39 ff., 57, 60, 62.\nDegrees of reality, 103 ff.\nDescriptive ethics, 76 ff.\n  theory of science, 129.\nDesire and goodness, 90 ff., 102, 110 ff.\nDistinction of good and evil, 93 ff., 113.\n\nEgoism, 15 ff., 74 f., 118.\nEmpiricism, 3.\n_Ens reale_, 102.\n  _realissimum_, 102.\nEnvironment, moral, 70 ff.\nEpicurus, 17.\nEternal mind, the, 96 ff.\nEthical controversies at present day, 13 ff.\n  in nineteenth century, 1 ff.\nEthical unity of things, 133 ff.\nEthics of evolution, 36 ff.\nEvolution, ethical significance of, 51, 67 ff.\nEvolution of ethics, 36 ff.\nEvolution, theory of, 33 ff., 36 ff.\nExceptional cases, 11.\nExperiments in morality, 50.\n\nFichte, J.G., 87.\nFittest, survival of the, 35, 69 ff.\n\nGalt, J., 4 n.\nGood, the true, 92 ff.\nGoodness as appearance, 102 ff.\nGoodness as contradictory, 117.\nGreen, T.H., 77 n., 89 ff., 123.\nGuyau, 125 f.\n\nHal\u00e9vy, E., 4 n.\nHedonism, 100.\nHegel, 87, 104, 123.\nHigher and lower, 107 ff.\nHuxley, T.H., 45 ff., 68.\n\nIbsen, 31.\nIdealism, 87 ff.\nIdeals, need of, 125.\nIllusions as ideals, 127.\nImmoralist, 24.\nIndividual and group, 40 ff.\nInfluences forming ethical thought:\n  current morality, 26 ff.\n  science and philosophy, 32 ff.\nIntelligent selection, 61 ff., 80.\nIntuitionism, 2 ff., 81.\n\nKant, 87, 123, 127 f.\n\nLange, F.A., 125.\nLeibniz, 87.\n\nMaterial and moral progress, 29 f.\nMechanical unity, 133.\nMetaphysics, 82, 85 ff.\nMill, J.S., 3 n., 8 ff., 28.\nModifications of general rules, 9.\nMonism and ethics, 109.\nMoral consciousness and reality, 128.\n  environment, 70 ff.\n  experience, 131.\n  ideas, origin of, 1 ff.\n  order and cosmic process, 46 ff.\n  value, criterion of, 1 ff., 75.\n\nNatural selection, 35, 43 ff., 49.\n  in morals, 55.\nNaturalism, 83 f., 86 f.\nNietzsche, F., 18 ff., 31 f.,\n  47 ff., 67., 127.\nNobles, morality of, 20.\n\nOrigin and validity, 37, 97.\nOver-man, the, 22, 31.\nOwen, Sir R., 59.\n\nPhysiological interpretation\n  of life, 67, 76.\nPlato, 31, 87.\nPractical nature of knowledge, 128.\nPragmatism, 130.\nProgress of life, 34.\nProgressive morality, 9.\nPsychological ethics, 109 ff.\nPurposive selection, 61 ff., 80.\n\nRational unity, 133.\nReligion, 82 f., 136.\nRenaissance, 33.\n\nScience and metaphysics, 85.\nSelf-assertion, 116 ff.\nSelf-love, 17.\nSelf-realisation, 90 ff., 113 ff.\nSelf-sacrifice, 116 ff.\nSelfishness, suppression of, 136.\nSensationalism, 100.\nSensualism, suppression of, 135.\nServile morality, 20.\nSexual selection, 66.\nSidgwick, H., 16 f.\nSocial qualities, 40 ff.\nSophists, the, 27.\nSpencer, H., 44, 47, 51, 73, 122.\nSpinoza, 87 f.\nStephen, Sir L., 44.\nSubjective selection, 60, 66, 80.\nSubjectivity in ethics, 81.\n\nTaylor, A.E., 116, 118.\nTennyson, 31.\nTille, A., 25 n.\nTransvaluation, 21.\nTruth as appearance, 101.\n  as moral law, 9 ff., 22 f.\n\nUebermensch, the, 22, 25 n.\nUnity of life, 34.\nUtilitarianism, the term, 3 n.\n  the theory, 2 ff., 81.\n\nVariation, 49.\nVolz, J., 24 n.\n\nWellbeing, 71, 75.\nWilberforce, S., 59.\n\nZola, 31.","title":"Recent Tendencies in Ethics: Three Lectures to Clergy Given at Cambridge","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":25201}