{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_60422/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_60422","id":"gutenberg_60422","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/60422","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Ethics"],"text":"TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE:\n\nItalics have been transcribed using _underscores_ and small capitals as\nALL CAPITALS. Inconsistencies in hyphenation and punctuation have not\nbeen corrected. A list of other corrections can be found at the end of\nthe document. The Table of Contents is left as in the original and does\nnot list all of the subsections.\n\n\n\n\n     _For we are not children of the bond-woman, but of the\n     free._\n\n     _E pur se muove._\n\n\n\n\n  OUTLINES\n\n  OF A\n\n  CRITICAL THEORY OF ETHICS\n\n\n  BY\n\n  JOHN DEWEY\n\n  Professor of Philosophy in the University of Michigan\n\n\n  ANN ARBOR, MICHIGAN REGISTER PUBLISHING COMPANY The Inland Press 1891.\n\n\n\n\nCopyright, 1891. REGISTER PUBLISHING CO., Ann Arbor, Mich.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n\n  INTRODUCTION 1-12\n\n\n  PART I.--FUNDAMENTAL ETHICAL NOTIONS.\n\n  CHAPTER I.--_The Good_ 13-138\n    Hedonism 14\n    Utilitarianism 52\n    Evolutionary Utilitarianism 67\n    Kantianism 78\n    Problem and Solution 95\n    Realization of Individuality 97\n    Ethical Postulate 127\n\n  CHAPTER II.--_The Idea of Obligation_ 139-158\n    Bain's Theory 140\n    Spencer's Theory 142\n    Kant's Theory 147\n    Its Real Nature 152\n\n  CHAPTER III.--_The Idea of Freedom_ 158-166\n    Negative Freedom 158\n    Potential Freedom 159\n    Positive Freedom 164\n\n\n  PART II.--THE ETHICAL WORLD.\n\n    Social Relations 167\n    Moral Institutions 169\n\n\n  PART III.--THE MORAL LIFE OF THE INDIVIDUAL.\n\n    Division of Subject 181\n\n  CHAPTER I.--_The Formation and Growth of Ideals_ 182-211\n    Conscience 182\n    Conscientiousness 199\n    Development of Ideals 206\n\n  CHAPTER II.--_The Moral Struggle or the Realizing of Ideals_ 211-227\n    Goodness as Struggle 211\n    Badness 214\n    Goodness and Badness 221\n\n  CHAPTER III.--_Realized Morality or the Virtues_ 227-233\n    Cardinal Virtues 231\n\n  CONCLUSION 233-238\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE.\n\n\nAlthough the following pages have taken shape in connection with\nclass-room work, they are intended as an independent contribution\nto ethical science. It is commonly demanded of such a work that its\nreaders shall have some prefatory hint of its sources and deviations.\nIn accordance with this custom, I may state that for the backbone\nof the theory here presented--the conception of the will as the\nexpression of ideas, and of social ideas; the notion of an objective\nethical world realized in institutions which afford moral ideals,\ntheatre and impetus to the individual; the notion of the moral life\nas growth in freedom, as the individual finds and conforms to the law\nof his social placing--for this backbone I am especially indebted to\nGreen's 'Prolegomena to Ethics', to Mr. Bradley's 'Ethical Studies', to\nProfessor Caird's 'Social Philosophy of Comte' and 'Critical Philosophy\nof Kant' (to this latter book in particular my indebtedness is\nfundamental), and to Alexander's 'Moral Order and Progress'. Although\nI have not been able to adopt the stand-point or the method of Mr.\nSpencer, or of Mr. Leslie Stephen my obligation to the 'Data of Ethics'\nand to the 'Science of Ethics' (especially to the latter) is large.\n\nAs to the specific forms which give a flesh and blood of its own to\nthis backbone, I may call attention to the idea of desire as the\nideal activity in contrast with actual possession; to the analysis of\nindividuality into function including capacity and environment; to the\ntreatment of the social bearings of science and art (a point concerning\nwhich I am indebted to my friend, Mr. Franklin Ford); to the statement\nof an ethical postulate; to the accounts of obligation, of moral rules,\nand of moral badness.\n\nWhile the book is an analysis, in outline, of the main elements of the\ntheory of ethics rather than a discussion of all possible detailed\nquestions, it will not be found the less fitted, I hope, to give a\nstudent an idea of the main methods and problems of contemporary\nethics. Other teachers, indeed, may agree that a general outline is\nbetter than a blanket-mortgage spread over and forestalling all the\nactivity of the student's mind.\n\nI have not been unmindful of the advisability of avoiding in\npresentation both undue polemic, and undue dogmatism without sufficient\nreference to the statements of others. I hope the method hit upon,\nof comparing opposite one-sided views with the aim of discovering a\ntheory apparently more adequate, will help keep the balance. I have\nquoted freely from the chief modern authorities, hoping that the\ntastes here given will tempt the reader to the banquet waiting in\nthe authors themselves. The occasional references introduced are not\nbibliographical, nor intended as exhaustive statements of authorities\nconsulted; they are meant as aids to an intelligent reading on the part\nof the general student. For this reason they are confined mainly to\nmodern English writings.\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION.\n\n\nI.\n\nDefinition of Ethics.\n\nThe term ethics is derived from a Greek word meaning manners, customs,\nhabits, just as the term morals is derived from a Latin word with a\nsimilar meaning. This suggests the character of the science as an\naccount of human action. Anthropology, ethnology, psychology, are also,\nin their way, accounts of human action. But these latter branches of\nknowledge simply _describe_, while the business of ethics is to _judge_.\n\nThis does not mean that it belongs to ethics to prescribe what man\nought to do; but that its business is to detect the element of\nobligation in conduct, to examine conduct to see what gives it its\n_worth_. Anthropology, etc., do not take into account the _whole_ of\naction, but simply some of its aspects--either external or internal.\nEthics deals with conduct in its entirety, with reference, that is,\nto what makes it conduct, its _end_, its real meaning. Ethics is the\nscience of conduct, understanding by conduct man's activity in its\nwhole reach.\n\n     Three of the branches of philosophy may be called\n     _normative_, implying that they deal with some _norm,\n     standard_ or _end_, estimating the value of their\n     respective subject-matters as tested by this end. These\n     are Logic, dealing with the end Truth, and the value of\n     intellectual processes with respect to it; \u00c6sthetics,\n     dealing with Beauty and the value of emotional conditions\n     as referred to it; and Ethics, as defined above. But this\n     norm in no case comes from outside the subject-matter; it\n     is the subject-matter considered in its totality.\n\n\nII.\n\nMeaning of Moral.\n\nIn its widest sense, the term moral or ethical means nothing more\nthan relating to conduct; having to do with practice, when we look at\nconduct or practice from the point of view not of its occurrence, but\nof its value. Action is something which takes place, and as such it\nmay be described like any objective fact. But action has also relation\nto an end, and so considered it is _moral_. The first step in ethics\nis to fix firmly in mind the idea that the term moral does not mean\nany special or peculiar kind of conduct, but simply means practice and\naction, conduct viewed not partially, but in connection with the end\nwhich it realizes.\n\n     It should be noted that the term moral has a wider and a\n     narrower sense. In the wider sense it means action in the\n     moral sphere, as opposed to _non_-moral, and thus includes\n     both good and bad conduct. In the narrower sense it means\n     moral, as opposed to _im_moral. See Bradley, Ethical\n     Studies, p. 53, note, for a further meaning.\n\n\nIII.\n\nMeaning of Conduct.\n\nEthics then has to do with conduct or action viewed completely, or in\nrelation to its end. But what is conduct? It must be distinguished from\naction in general; for any process of change, the working of a pump,\nthe growth of a plant, the barking of a dog, may be called action.\nConduct implies more than something taking place; it implies purpose,\nmotive, intention; that the agent knows what he is about, that he has\nsomething which he is aiming at. All action accomplishes something or\nbrings about results, but conduct has the result _in view_. It occurs\nfor the sake of producing this result. Conduct does not simply, like\naction in general, have a cause, but also a reason, and the reason is\npresent to the mind of the agent. There can be conduct only when there\nis a being who can propose to himself, as an end to be reached by\nhimself, something which he regards as worth while. Such a being is a\nmoral agent, and his action, when conscious, is conduct.\n\n\nIV.\n\nDivision of Ethics.\n\nThe main ethical problem is just this: What is the conduct that really\ndeserves the name of conduct, the conduct of which all other kinds\nof action can be only a perverted or deflected form? Or, since it is\nthe end which gives action its moral value, what is the true end,\n_summum bonum_ of man? Knowing this, we have a standard by which we\njudge particular acts. Those which embody this end are _right_, others\nwrong. The question of the rightness of conduct is simply a special\nform of the question concerning the nature of the end or good. But\nthe end bears another relation to specific acts. They are not only\nmarked off by it as right or wrong, but they have to fulfill it. The\nend or good decides what should be or _ought_ to be. Any act necessary\nto fulfill the end is a _duty_. Our second inquiry will be as to the\nnature of obligation or duty. Then we have to discuss the nature of a\nbeing who is capable of action, of manifesting and realizing the end;\ncapable of right (or wrong) of obligatory and good action. This will\nlead us to discuss the question of _Freedom, or Moral Capacity and its\nRealization_. The discussion of these three abstract questions will\nconstitute Part I of our theory; Part II will take up the various forms\nand institutions in which the good is objectively realized, the family,\nstate, etc.; while Part III will be devoted to an account of the moral\nexperience of the individual.\n\n\nV.\n\nThe Motive in Conduct.\n\nBefore taking up the first problem presented, the nature of the good\nor the end of conduct, it is necessary to analyze somewhat further\nthe various sides and factors of conduct in order to see where the\ndistinctly ethical element is to be found. The elements particularly\ndeserving consideration are (1) the Motive; (2) the Feelings or\nSentiments; (3) Consequences of the Act; (4) Character of Agent. We\nshall begin with\n\n1. _The Motive._ The motive of the act is the end aimed at by the agent\nin performing the act. Thus the motive of Julius C\u00e6sar in crossing the\nRubicon was the whole series of results which he intended to reach by\nthat act of his. The motive of a person in coming to college is to gain\nknowledge, to prepare himself for a certain profession. The motive is\nthus identical with the ideal element of the action, the purpose in\nview.\n\n2. _The Feelings or Disposition._ Some writers speak of the feelings\nunder which the agent acts as his motive. Thus we may suppose Julius\nC\u00e6sar 'moved' by the feelings of ambition, of revenge, etc., in\ncrossing the Rubicon. The student may be 'moved' by curiosity, by\nvainglory, by emulation, by conscience, in coming to college. It is\nbetter, however, to regard the motive as the reason for which the act\nis performed, and to use the term moving or impelling cause for the\nfeelings in their relation to action. Thus we may imagine a parent\nasking a child why he struck a playmate, meaning what was the motive\nof the action. If the child should reply that he struck his playmate\nbecause he was angry, this answer would give the moving cause or\nimpelling force of the action, but not its motive. The motive would\nbe the idea of punishing this playmate, of getting even with him, of\ntaking something away from him. The motive is the end which he desired\nto reach by striking and on account of which he struck. This is implied\nby the fact that the parent would ask, \"What _made_ you _angry_?\"\n\n\nVI.\n\nMoral Bearing of These Distinctions.\n\nIt is the feelings which supply the impelling force to action. They\nmay be termed, collectively, the _natural disposition_. The natural\ndisposition in itself has no _moral_ value. This has been well\nillustrated by Bentham.\n\n     Principles of Morals and Legislation, pp. 49-55. Bentham\n     here uses the term 'motive' to designate what we have\n     called the moving cause.\n\nWe may select of the many examples which he gives that of curiosity.\nWe may imagine a boy spinning a top, reading a useful book and letting\na wild ox loose in a road. Now curiosity may be the 'motive' of each\nof these acts, yet the first act would generally be called morally\nindifferent, the second good, the third abominable.\n\nWhat we mean by the 'natural' feelings, then, is the feelings\nconsidered in abstraction from activity: Benevolence, as a _mere_\nfeeling, has no higher moral value than malevolence. But if it is\ndirected upon action it gets a value at once; let the end, the act,\nbe right, and benevolence becomes a name for a _moral_ disposition--a\ntendency to _act_ in the due way. Nothing is more important than to\ndistinguish between mere sentiments, and feeling as an element in\nconduct.\n\n\nVII.\n\nRelation of Consequences and Conduct.\n\nDo the consequences of an act have anything to do with its morality? We\nmay say no, pointing to the fact that a man who does his best we call\ngood, although the consequences of his act may be far from good. We say\nhis purpose in acting was right, and using as he did all the knowledge\nthat he had, he is not to be blamed for its bad consequences. On the\nother hand, it is evident that we do take into account consequences in\nestimating the moral value of an act. Suppose, to use one of Bentham's\nexamples, a person were about to shoot an animal but foresaw that\nin doing so there was a strong probability that he would also wound\nsome bystander. If he shot and the spectator were wounded, should we\nnot hold the agent morally responsible? Are there not multitudes of\nintended acts of which we say that we cannot tell whether they are good\nor bad until we know how they are likely to turn out?\n\nThe solution of the difficulty is in recognizing the ambiguity of the\nterm 'consequences'. It may mean the whole outcome of the act. When I\nspeak, I set in motion the air, and its vibrations have, in turn, long\nchains of effects. Whatever I do must have an endless succession of\n'consequences' of which I can know but very little; just so far as, in\nany act, I am ignorant of the conditions under which it is performed,\nso far I am ignorant of its consequences. _Such_ consequences are\nwholly irrelevant morally. They have no more to do with the morality of\nthe act than has the fact that the earth is revolving while the act is\ntaking place.\n\nBut we may mean by consequences the _foreseen_ consequences of an\nact. Just in the degree that any consequence is considered likely to\nresult from an act, just in that degree it gets moral value, for it\nbecomes _part of the act_ itself. The reason that in many cases we\ncannot judge of the morality of an intended act until we can judge its\nprobable results, is that until we know of these results the action is\na mere abstraction, having no content at all. _The conceived results\nconstitute the content of the act to be performed._ They are not\nmerely relevant to its morality, but _are_ its moral quality. The\nquestion is whether any consequence is foreseen, conceived, or not. The\nforeseen, the _ideal_ consequences are the end of the act, and as such\nform the _motive_.\n\n     See on Sections 6 and 7, Alexander, Moral Order and\n     Progress, pp. 36-46; on Section 7, Green, Prolegomena to\n     Ethics, pp. 317-323.\n\n\nVIII.\n\nCharacter and Conduct.\n\nWe have seen that the moral sentiments, or the moral disposition\n(distinguished from the feelings as passing emotions), on one side,\nand the consequences as ideal or conceived (distinguished from the\nconsequences that, _de facto_, result), on the other, both have moral\nvalue. If we take the moral feelings, not one by one, but as a whole,\nas an _attitude_ of the agent toward conduct, as expressing the kind of\nmotives which upon the whole moves him to action, we have _character_.\nAnd just so, if we take the consequences willed, not one by one, but\nas a whole, as the kind of end which the agent endeavors to realize,\nwe have _conduct_. Character and conduct are, morally, the same thing,\nlooked at first inwardly and then outwardly. Character, except as\nmanifest in conduct, is a barren ideality. Our moral judgments are\nalways severe upon a man who has nothing to show but 'good intentions'\nnever executed. This is what character comes to, apart from conduct.\nOur only way of telling the nature of character is the conduct that\nissues from it. But, on the other hand, conduct is mere outward\nformalism, excepting as it manifests character. To say that a man's\nconduct is good, unless it is the manifestation of a good character, is\nto pass a judgment which is self-contradictory.\n\n     See Alexander, Op. cit., pp. 48-50 and p. 39.\n\nFrom this point of view we are enabled to identify the two senses of\nmotive already discussed--the ideal of action and the moving feelings.\nApart from each other they are abstractions. C\u00e6sar's motive in\ncrossing the Rubicon may have been 'ambition,' but this was not some\nbare feeling. It was a feeling of ambition produced in view of the\ncontemplation of a certain end which he wished to reach. So a boy's\nmotive in striking a playmate may be anger, but this means (if the\nact is anything more than one of blind physical reaction) an anger\nhaving its conscious cause and aim, and not some abstract feeling of\nanger in general. The feeling which has its nature made what it is by\nthe conceived end, and the end which has ceased to be a bare abstract\nconception and become an interest, are all one with each other.\n\nMorality is then a matter pertaining to character--to the feelings\nand inclinations as transformed by ends of action; and to conduct--to\nconceived ends transformed into act under the influence of emotions.\nBut what _kind_ of character, of conduct, is right or realizes its true\nend? This brings us to our first problem.\n\n\n\n\nPART I.\n\nFUNDAMENTAL ETHICAL NOTIONS.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I.--THE GOOD.\n\n\nIX.\n\nSubdivision of Theories.\n\nWe may recognize three main types of theories regarding the good,\nof which the first two represent (we shall attempt to show) each\nrespectively one side of the truth, while the third combines the\none-sided truths of the other two. Of the first two theories one is\nabstract, because it tends to find the good in the mere consequences\nof conduct aside from character. This is the hedonistic theory, which\nfinds the good to be pleasure. This is either individualistic or\nuniversalistic according as it takes individual or general pleasure\nto be the good. The second type of theories attempts to find the good\nin the motive of conduct apart from consequences even as willed; it\nreduces the good to conformity to abstract moral law. The best type of\nthis theory is the Kantian. We shall criticize these theories with a\nview to developing the factors necessary to a true moral theory.\n\n\nX.\n\nHedonism.\n\nAccording to the strict hedonistic position, the pleasure resulting\nto the agent from his act is the end of conduct and is therefore the\ncriterion of its morality. The position as usually taken involves,\nfirst, that pleasure is psychologically the sole motive to action; and,\nsecondly, that the results of an act in the way of the pain or pleasure\nit produces are the only tests we have of the rightness of the act.\n\n     It is said above that these two points are involved in\n     the hedonistic position as _usually_ taken. They are not\n     _necessarily_ involved.\n\n     Sidgwick (Methods of Ethics, Bk. I, ch. IV and Bk. IV,\n     ch. I) holds that pleasure is not the object of desire\n     or motive of action, but that happiness is the moral\n     end and criterion. On the other hand Hodgson (Theory of\n     Practice, Vol. II, ch. II) holds that pleasure may be the\n     motive (in the sense of impelling force) but it is never\n     the criterion of conduct. Kant adopts the psychology of\n     hedonism regarding pleasure as the object of desire, but\n     holds that on that very account no object of desire can be\n     the standard of moral conduct.\n\n     A good statement of strict individualistic hedonism is the\n     following from Barratt, Physical Ethics, page 71: \"If man\n     aims at pleasure merely by the physical law of action, that\n     pleasure must evidently be ultimately his own, and whether\n     it be or not preceded by phenomena which he calls the pain\n     and pleasure of others, is a question not of principle but\n     of detail, just as the force of a pound weight is unaltered\n     whether it be composed of lead or of feathers, or whether\n     it act directly or through pulleys.\"\n\n\nXI.\n\nThe Hedonistic Position Supported.\n\nHedonism holds that pleasure is both the natural end and the proper\ncriterion of action:\n\n     The following quotation from Bentham (Principles of Morals\n     and Legislation, Works, Vol. I, p. 1) gives a statement\n     of both these elements. \"Nature has placed man under the\n     governance of two sovereign masters, pain and pleasure. It\n     is for them alone to point out what we ought to do, [i. e.\n     they are criteria] as well as to determine what we shall do\n     [motives]. On the one hand, the standard of right or wrong\n     [criterion]; on the other the chain of causes and effects\n     [motives], are fastened to their throne.\"\n\n1. _Pleasure as Criterion._ That the tendency of an action to produce\npleasure is the standard for judging its moral value is generally held\nby the hedonists to be so axiomatic as to be beyond argument.\n\n     See Bain, Moral Science, p. 27. \"The ultimate data must be\n     accepted as self-evident: they have no higher authority\n     than that mankind generally are disposed to accept them....\n     Now there can be no proof offered for the position that\n     happiness is the proper end of all human pursuits, the\n     criterion of all right conduct. It is an ultimate or final\n     assumption to be tested by reference to the individual\n     judgment of mankind.\" So Bentham, Enquiry I, II, \"The\n     principle is not susceptible of direct proofs for that\n     which is used to prove everything else can not itself be\n     proved; a chain of proofs must have their commencement\n     somewhere.\" Mill, Utilitarianism. (Dissertations and\n     Discussions, pp. 348-349). \"The only proof capable of being\n     given that an object is visible is that people actually\n     see it. In like manner the sole evidence it is possible\n     to produce that anything is desirable is that people do\n     actually desire it.\" See Stephen, Science of Ethics, p.\n     42; Spencer, Data of Ethics, pp. 30-32 and p. 46; Lotze,\n     Practical Philosophy, pp. 18-19: Sidgwick, Methods of\n     Ethics, pp. 368-369.\n\nHedonism, then, represents the good or the desirable and pleasure to be\ntwo names for the same fact. What indeed can be worth while unless it\nbe either enjoyable in itself or at least a means to enjoyment? Would\ntheft be considered bad if it resulted in pleasure or truth itself good\nif its universal effect were pain?\n\n2. _Pleasure as object of desire._ It is also urged that psychological\nanalysis shows that pleasure is not only the desirable, but also always\nthe _desired_. Desire for an object is only a short way of saying\ndesire for the pleasure which that object may bring. To want food is to\nwant the pleasure it brings; to want scientific ability is to desire\nto find satisfaction, or attain happiness. Thus it is laid down as a\ngeneral principle that the invariable object of desire, and motive\nof action is some pleasure to be attained; the action itself and the\ndirect end of action being simply means to pleasure.\n\n     For a strong statement of this doctrine see Mill, Op. cit.,\n     pp. 354-5. \"Desiring a thing and finding it pleasant,\n     aversion to it and thinking of it as painful, are phenomena\n     entirely inseparable, or rather two parts of the same\n     phenomenon,--in strictness of language, two different\n     modes of naming the same psychological fact; to think of\n     an object as desirable and to think of it as pleasant are\n     one and the same thing.\" See also, Bain, Emotions and Will,\n     p. 436, Senses and Intellect, pp. 338-344; Sully, Outlines\n     of Psychology, p. 575, \"The inclination or tendency of the\n     active mind towards what is pleasurable and away from what\n     is painful is the essential fact in willing.\" Also pp.\n     576-577.\n\n\nXII. Criticism.\n\nPleasure Not the End of Impulse.\n\nTaking up the points in reverse order, we shall endeavor to show\nfirst, that the motive of action, in the sense of end aimed at, is not\npleasure. This point in itself, is, of course, rather psychological\nthan ethical. Taking up then the psychology of pleasure in its\nconnection with will, we shall discuss its relation to impulse, to\ndesire and to motive.\n\nIt is generally agreed that the raw material of volition is found\nin some form or other of the impulsive or instinctive actions. Such\ntendencies (_e. g._, the impulse for food, for drink, for unimpeded\nmotion) clearly precede the reaching of an end, and hence the\nexperience of any pleasure in the end. Our first actions, at least,\nare not for pleasure; on the contrary, there is an activity for\nsome independent end, and this end being reached there is pleasure\nin an act which has succeeded. This suggests as a possible principle\nthat pleasure is not so much the end of action, as an element in the\nactivity which reaches an end. What Aristotle says of another matter\nis certainly true of instinctive action. \"It is not true of every\ncharacteristic function that its action is attended with pleasure,\n_except indeed the pleasure of attaining its end_.\"\n\n     See Martineau, Types of Ethical Theory, Vol. II, pp.\n     299-300; Sidgwick, Op. cit., pp. 38-45.\n\n\nXIII. Criticism--_Continued_.\n\nPleasure Not the End of Desire.\n\nIt may, however, be said that, while our instinctive actions have\nanother end than pleasure, this is not true of conscious desires--that,\nindeed, just the difference between instinct and desire is that the\nformer goes blindly to its end, while the latter superimposes the\nthought of the pleasure to be reached upon the mere instinct. So we\nhave to analyze the nature of desire.\n\nA child, led by impulse, has put a piece of sugar into his mouth,\njust as, under the same circumstances, he would put a piece of stone\ninto his mouth. But his action results in a state of pleasure wholly\nunforseen by him. Now the next time the child sees the sugar he will\nnot merely have the impulse to put it in his mouth. There will also be\nthe remembrance of the pleasure enjoyed from sugar previously. There is\nconsciousness of sugar as satisfying impulse and hence desire for it.\n\n1. This is a description of an instance of desire. Does it bear us out\nin the doctrine that pleasure is the object of desire? It is possible\nthat, in an irrational animal, the experience of eating food reinforces\nthe original instinct for it with associated images of pleasure. But\neven this is very different from a desire for pleasure. It is simply\nthe primordial instinct intensified and rendered more acute by new\nsensational factors joined to it. In the strict sense, there is still\nno desire, but only _stronger_ impulse. Wherever there is desire there\nis not only a feeling of pleasure associated with other feelings (_e.\ng._, those of hunger, thirst), but there is the _consciousness of an\nobject in which satisfaction is found_. The error of the hedonistic\npsychology is in omitting one's consciousness of an _object_ which\nsatisfies. The hedonists are quite right in holding that the end of\ndesire is not any object external to consciousness, but a condition of\nconsciousness itself. The error begins in eliminating all objective\n(that is, active) elements from consciousness, and declaring it to be\na mere state of feeling or sensation. The practical consciousness, or\nwill, cannot be reduced to mere feeling, any more than the theoretical\nconsciousness, or knowledge, can be so reduced.\n\nEven Mill, in its statement of the hedonistic psychology, does not\nsucceed in making the object of desire mere pleasure as a state of\nfeeling. It is the \"pleasant _thing_\" and not pleasure alone which\nhe finds equivalent to the desire. It is true enough that sugar as\nan external fact does not awaken desire, but it is equally true\nthat a child does not want a passive pleasure. What he wants is his\nown activity in which he makes the sugar his own. And it should\nbe remembered that the case of sugar is at once a trivial and an\nexceptional one. Not even children want simply sweet-meats; and the\nlarger the character which finds expression in wants, the more does\nthe direct object of want, the bread, the meat, become a mere element\nin a larger system of activity. What a man wants is to live, and he\nwants sweet-meats, amusements, etc., just as he wants substantials--on\naccount of their value in life.\n\n     Professor James compares the idea that pleasure is the end\n     of desire to saying that \"because no steamer can go to\n     sea without incidentally consuming coal, ... therefore no\n     steamer can go to sea for any other motive than that of\n     coal-consumption.\" Psychology, Vol. II, p. 558. See the\n     entire passage, pp. 549-559.\n\n2. But granting that an 'object' and a 'pleasure' are both necessary\nto desire, it may be argued that the 'object' is ultimately a means\nto 'pleasure.' This expressly raises a question already incidentally\ntouched upon: What is the controlling element in desire? Why is the\nobject thought of as pleasant? Simply because it is thought of as\nsatisfying want. The hedonists, says Green (Prolegomena to Ethics, p.\n168), make the \"mistake of supposing that a desire can be excited by\nthe anticipation of its own satisfaction.\" This is to say, of course,\nthat it exists before it exists, and thus brings itself into being.\n\n     Green, Op. cit., p. 167, states the matter thus: \"Ordinary\n     motives are interests in the attainment of objects, without\n     which it seems to the man that he cannot satisfy himself,\n     and in the attainment of which, _because he has desired\n     them_, he will find a certain pleasure, but only because he\n     has previously desired them, not because pleasures are the\n     objects desired.\" Bradley says on this same point (Ethical\n     Studies, p. 230): \"The difference is between my finding\n     my pleasure in an end, and my finding means for the end\n     of my pleasure, and the difference is enormous.\" Consult\n     the entire passage, pp. 226-235. See also Caird, Critical\n     Philosophy of Kant, Vol. II, p. 229.\n\nIt is the object, then, which controls, and the pleasure is on account\nof the attaining of the desired object. But even this statement makes\nmore division in desire than actually exists; for\n\n3. The real object of desire is activity itself. The will takes its\nrise, as we have seen, in impulse; in the reaching for something to\nsatisfy some felt lack. Now, in reality, desire adds nothing to\nimpulse excepting _consciousness_ of the impulse. Volitional action\ndoes not differ from impulsive or instinctive, _except in bringing to\nconsciousness the nature of the want and of the activity necessary to\nsatisfy it_. But this makes just the difference between 'natural' or\nanimal activity, and 'moral' or human activity. To be conscious of the\nimpulse is to elevate it from a blind impelling force to an intended or\nproposed end; and thus, by bringing it _before_ consciousness, both to\nextend its range and to idealize it, spiritualize it. To be conscious\nof an impulse for food means to give up the unreasoned and momentary\nseizing of it; to consider the relation of things to this want, what\nwill satisfy it best, most easily, etc. The _object_ of desire is not\nsomething outside the action; it is an element in the enlarged action.\nAnd as we become more and more conscious of impulse for food, we\nanalyze our action into more and more 'objects' of desire, but these\nobjects never become anything apart from the action itself. They are\nsimply its analyzed and defined content. Man wants activity still, but\nhe knows better what activity means and includes.\n\nThus, when we learn what the activity means, it changes its character.\nTo the animal the activity wanted is simply that of eating the food,\nof realizing the momentary impulse. To man the activity becomes\nenlarged to include the satisfaction of a whole life, and not of one\nlife singly, but of the family, etc., connected with the single life.\nThe material well-being of the family becomes one of the objects of\ndesire into which the original impulse has grown. But we misinterpret,\nwhen we conceive of this well-being as an external object lying outside\nthe action. It means simply one aspect of the fuller action. By like\ngrowing consciousness of the meaning of the impulse, production and\nexchange of commodities are organized. The impulse for food is extended\nto include a whole range of commercial activities.\n\nIt is evident that this growing consciousness of the nature of an\nimpulse, whereby we resolve it into manifold and comprehensive\nactivities, also takes the impulse out of its isolation and brings it\ninto connection with other impulses. We come to have not a series of\ndisconnected impulses, but one all-inclusive activity in which various\nsubordinate activities (or conscious impulses) are included. Thus, in\nthe previous example, the impulse for food is united with the family\nimpulse, and with the impulse for communication and intercourse with\nsociety generally. It is this growing unity with the whole range\nof man's action that is the 'spiritualizing' of the impulse--the\nnatural and brutal impulse being just that which insists upon itself\nirrespective of all other wants. The spiritualizing of the impulse\nis organizing it so that it becomes one factor in action. Thus we\nliterally come to 'eat to live', meaning by life not mere physical\nexistence, but the whole possible sphere of active human relations.\n\n4. Relation of activity to pleasure. We have seen that the 'object' of\ndesire in itself is a mere abstraction; that the real object is full\nactivity itself. We are always after larger scope of movement, fuller\nincome in order to get larger outgo. The 'thing' is always for the\nsake of doing; is a part of the doing. The idea that anything less or\nother than life (movement, action, and doing), can satisfy man is as\nridiculous when compared with the actual course of things in history,\nas it is false psychologically. Freedom is what we want, and freedom\nmeans full unimpeded play of interests, that is, of conscious impulses\n(see Sec. 34 and 51). If the object is a mere abstraction apart from\nactivity, much more is pleasure. Mere pleasure as an object is simply\nthe extreme of passivity, of mere having, as against action or doing.\nIt is _possible_ to make pleasure to some degree the object of desire;\nthis is just what the voluptuary does. But it is a commonplace that\nthe voluptuary always defeats himself. He never gets satisfaction who\nidentities satisfaction with having pleasures. The reason is evident\nenough. Activity is what we want, and since pleasure comes from getting\nwhat we want, pleasure comes only with activity. To give up the\nactivity, and attempt to get the pleasure is a contradiction in effect.\nHence also the 'hedonistic paradox'--that in order to get pleasure we\nmust aim at something else.\n\n     There is an interesting recognition of this in Mill\n     himself, (see his Autobiography, p. 142). And in his\n     Utilitarianism, in discussing the feasibility of getting\n     happiness, he shows (pp. 318-319) that the sources of\n     happiness are an intelligent interest in surrounding\n     things--objects of nature, achievements of art, incidents\n     of history--and especially an unselfish devotion to others.\n     Which is to say that man does not find satisfaction\n     in pleasure as such at all, but only in objective\n     affairs--that is, in complete interpretation, in activity\n     with a wide and full content. Further consideration of the\n     end of desire and its relation to pleasure may be found in\n     Green, Op. cit., pp. 123-132; pp. 163-167. Bradley, Mind,\n     Vol. XIII, p. 1, and Dewey, Psychology, pp. 360-365.\n\n\nXIV. Criticism--_Continued_.\n\nCharacter and Pleasure.\n\nIt now being admitted that the end of desire is activity itself in\nwhich the 'object' and 'pleasure' are simply factors, what is the\nmoving spring to action? What is it that arouses the mind to the larger\nactivity? Most of the hedonists have confounded the two senses of\nmotive already spoken of, and have held that _because_ pleasure is the\nend of desire, therefore it is the moving spring of conduct (or more\noften that because it is the moving spring of conduct it _therefore_ is\nthe end of desire).\n\nMr. Stephen (Science of Ethics, pp. 46-58), although classing himself\nas a hedonist, has brought out this confusion very clearly. Ordinary\nhedonism confounds, as he shows, the judgment of what is pleasant--the\nsupposed end--with the pleasant judgment--the moving spring. (See also\nBradley, Op. cit., pp. 232-236). It may be admitted that it is feeling\nwhich moves to action, but it is the _present_ feeling which moves.\nIf the feeling aimed at moves, it is only as through anticipation it\nbecomes the present feeling. Now is this present feeling which moves\n(1) mere pleasure and (2) mere feeling at all? This introduces us to\nthe question of the relation of pleasure (and of feeling in general) to\ncharacter.\n\n1. If the existing state of consciousness--that which moves--were pure\npleasure, why should there be any movement, any act at all? The feeling\nwhich moves must be in so far complex: over against the pleasure felt\nin the anticipation of an end as satisfying, there must be pain felt in\nthe contrasting unsatisfactory present condition. There must be tension\nbetween the anticipated or ideal action, and the actual or present\n(relative) non-action. And it is this tension, in which pain is just\nas normal an element as pleasure, which moves. Desire is just this\ntension of an action which satisfies, and yet is only ideal, against an\nactual possession which, in contrast with the ideal action, is felt as\nincomplete action, or lack, and hence as unsatisfactory.\n\n2. The question now comes as to the nature of this tension. We may\ncall it 'feeling,' if we will, and say that feeling is the sole motive\npower to action. But there is no such thing as feeling at large, and\nthe important thing, morally, is what _kind_ of feeling moves. To take\na mere abstraction like 'feeling' for the source of action is, at\nroot, the fallacy of hedonism. To raise the question, What is it that\nmakes the feeling what it is, is to recognize that the feeling, taken\nconcretely, is _character_ in a certain attitude.\n\n     Stephen, who has insisted with great force that feeling\n     is the sole 'motive' to action, has yet shown with equal\n     cogency the moral uselessness of such a doctrine, when\n     feeling is left undefined (Op. cit., p. 44). \"The love of\n     happiness must express the sole possible motive of Judas\n     Iscariot and his master; it must explain the conduct of\n     Stylites on his column, of Tiberius at Capre\u00e6, of A Kempis\n     in his cell, and of Nelson in the cockpit of the Victory.\n     It must be equally good for saints, martyrs, heroes,\n     cowards, debauchees, ascetics, mystics, cynics, misers,\n     prodigals, men, women, and babes in arms.\" Surely, this is\n     only to say, in effect, that 'love of happiness' is a pure\n     bit of scholasticism, an undefined entity.\n\nIn a hedonistic argument (by Stanton Coit, Mind, Vol. XI, p. 349),\nthe fallacy is seen in the following discussion. The story is told of\nAbraham Lincoln that he once passed an animal in distress by the side\nof the road, and that, after going by, he finally went back and got\nhim out of the ditch. On being praised for his act, he replied that he\ndid it on his own account, since he kept getting more uncomfortable as\nhe thought of the animal in distress. From this, it cannot be inferred\nthat love of pleasure is at the basis of moral acts. The mere lumping\noff of feeling as the spring of conduct overlooks the only important\nthing morally--the fact that Lincoln felt pain at the thought of the\nanimal unrelieved, and pleasure at the idea of its relief, just because\nhe was a man of compassionate _character_. It was not the feeling, but\nthe character revealed in, and creative of, the feeling that was the\nreal source of the act.\n\nTo connect this with our previous account of desire (p. 26): the\nimportant thing morally is that the nature of the tension between fact\nand idea--the actual state and the ideal activity--is an expression\nof character. What kind of activity does it take to satisfy a man?\nDoes riding in a comfortable carriage, and following the course of his\nown reflections exhaust his need of action? or does his full activity\nrequire that note be taken of a suffering animal? It is the kind\nof character one is (that is, the kind of activity which satisfies\nand expresses one) which decides what pleasure shall be taken in an\nanticipated end, what feeling of lack or hindrance (what pain) there\nshall be in the given state, and hence what the resulting tension, or\ndesire, shall be. It is, therefore, character which moves to conduct.\n\nMere wishing, the mere floating fancy of this or that thing as\ndesirable, is not desire. To _want_ is an active projection of\ncharacter; really and deeply to want is no surface and passing\nfeeling; it is the stirring of character to its depths. There may be\nrepressed activity; that is not, of itself, desire. There may be an\nimage of larger activity; that is not, of itself, desire. But given\nthe _consciousness_ of a repressed activity in view of the perception\nof a possible larger action, and a man strives within himself to break\nhis bonds and reach the new satisfaction. This striving within one's\nself, before the activity becomes overt, is the emotional antecedent\nof action. But this inward striving or tension, which constitutes\ndesire, is so far from being _mere_ emotion that it is character\nitself--character as it turns an inward or ideal advance into an\noutward, or real progress, into action.\n\n     We may fall back on Aristotle's statement (page 38, of\n     Peters' translation of his ethics): \"The pleasure or pain\n     that accompanies an act must be regarded as a _test_ of\n     _character_. He who abstains from the pleasures of the body\n     and rejoices in his abstinence is temperate, while he who\n     is vexed at having to abstain is still profligate. As Plato\n     tells us, man needs to be so trained from youth up as to\n     take pleasure and pain _in the right objects_.\"\n\n\nXV.\n\nSummary.\n\nThe truth in hedonism is its conviction that the good, the end of man,\nis not to be found in any outward object, but only in what comes home\nto man in his own conscious experience. The error is in reducing this\nexperience to mere having, to bare feelings or affections, eliminating\nthe element of doing. It is this doing which satisfies man, and it is\nthis which involves as its content (as knowledge of impulse, instead\nof blind impulse) objective and permanent ends. When Mill speaks of\nthe end of desire as a \"satisfied life,\" (p. 317 of Utilitarianism) he\ncarries our assent; but to reduce this satisfied life to feelings of\npleasure, and absence of pains, is to destroy the life and hence the\nsatisfaction. As Mill recognizes, a life bounded by the agent's own\nfeelings would be, as of course, a life \"centred in his own miserable\nindividuality.\" (Mill, p. 319). Such words have meaning only because\nthey suggest the contrast with activity in which are comprehended,\nas 'ends' or 'objects' (that is, as part of its defined content)\nthings--art, science and industry--and persons (see Secs. 34 and 35).\n\n     Here too we must 'back to Aristotle.' According to him the\n     end of conduct is _eudaimonia_, success, welfare, satisfied\n     life. But _eudaimonia_ is found not in pleasure, but in\n     the fulfillment of human powers and functions, in which\n     fulfillment, since it is fulfillment, pleasure is had.\n     (Ethics, Bk. I, ch. 4-8).\n\nWe now take up the question whether pleasure is a standard of right\naction, having finished the discussion concerning it as an end of\ndesire.\n\n\nXVI.\n\nPleasure as the Standard of Conduct.\n\nThe line of criticism on this point may be stated as follows: Pleasure\nfails as a standard for the very reason that it fails as a motive.\nPleasure, _as conceived by the hedonist_, is passive, merely agreeable\nsensations, without any objective and qualitative (active) character.\nThis being so, there is no permanent, fixed basis to which we may refer\n_acts_ and by which we may judge them. A standard implies a single\ncomprehensive end which unifies all acts and through connection with\nwhich each gets its moral value fixed. Only action can be a standard\nfor acts. To reduce all acts to means to getting a mere state of\nfeeling is the inevitable consequence of hedonism. So reducing them is\nto deprive them of any standard of value.\n\nAn end to serve as standard must be (1) a comprehensive end for all\nthe acts of an individual, and (2) an end comprehending the activities\nof various individuals--a common good.\n\n1. The moral end must be that for the sake of which all conduct\noccurs--the _organizing principle_ of conduct--a totality, a system.\nIf pleasure is the end it is because each detail of conduct gets its\nplacing, its moral value through relation to pleasure, through the\ncontribution it makes to pleasure.\n\n2. The moral end must also include the ends of the various agents who\nmake up society. It must be capable of constituting a social system\nout of the acts of various agents, as well as an individual system out\nof the various acts of one agent; or, more simply, the moral end must\nbe not only the good for all the particular acts of an individual, but\nmust be a _common good_--a good which in satisfying one, satisfies\nothers.\n\nAll ethical theories would claim that the end proposed by them served\nthese two purposes. We shall endeavor to show that the hedonistic\ntheory, the doctrine that the pleasure is the good, is not capable of\nserving either of them.\n\n\nXVII.\n\nPleasure Not a Standard.\n\n1. _It does not unify character._ In the first place, the hedonistic\ntheory makes an unreal and impossible separation between conduct and\ncharacter. The psychology of hedonism comes into conflict with its\nethics. According to the former the motive of all action is to secure\npleasure or avoid pain. So far as the motive is concerned, on this\ntheory there can be no immoral action at all. That the agent should\nnot be moved by pleasure, and by what, at the time of acting, is the\ngreatest pleasure possible, would be a psychological impossibility.\nEvery motive would be good, or rather there would be no distinction of\ngood or bad pertaining to the motive. The character of the agent, as\nmeasured by his motives, could never, under such circumstances, have\nany moral quality.\n\nTo the consequences of action, or the conduct proper, however, the\nterms good and bad might be applied. Although the agent is moved by\npleasurable feelings, the result of his action may be painful and thus\nbad. In a word, on the hedonistic theory, it is only the external\nconsequences of conduct, or conduct divorced from character, to which\nmoral adjectives have any application. Such a separation not only\ncontradicts our experience (see VIII), but inverts the true order of\nmoral judgment. Consequences do not enter into the moral estimate at\nall, except so far as, being foreseen, they are the act in idea. That\nis, it is only as the consequences are taken up into the motive, and\nthus related to character, that they are subject to moral judgment.\nIndeed, except so far as action expresses character, it is not conduct,\nbut mere physical sequence, as irrelevant to morality as the change in\nblood distribution, which also is the 'result' of an action. Hedonism\nhas to rule out at the start the only thing that gives totality to\naction--the character of the agent, or conduct as the outcome of\nmotives. Furthermore, the ordinary judgment of men, instead of saying\nthat the sole moral motive is to get pleasure, would say that to\nreduce everything to means for getting pleasure is the very essence of\nimmorality.\n\n     On the point above, compare Bentham, Op. cit., I, p. 48.\n     \"A motive is substantially nothing more than pleasure or\n     pain operating in a certain manner. Now pleasure is in\n     itself a good: nay, even, setting aside immunity from pain,\n     the only good; pain is in itself an evil, and, indeed,\n     without exception, the only evil; or else the words good\n     and evil have no meaning. And this is alike true of every\n     sort of pain and of every sort of pleasure. It follows,\n     therefore, immediately and incontestably, that there is\n     no such thing as any sort of motive that is in itself a\n     bad one. If motives are good or bad, it is only on account\n     of their effects; good on account of their tendency to\n     produce pleasure or avert pain; bad on account of their\n     tendency to produce pain or avert pleasure. Now the case\n     is, that from one and the same motive, and from every kind\n     of motive, may proceed actions that are good, others that\n     are bad and others that are indifferent.\" Further, on p.\n     60, Bentham asks: \"Is there nothing, then, about a man\n     that can properly be termed good or bad, when on such or\n     such an occasion he suffers himself to be governed by such\n     or such a motive? Yes, certainly, his _disposition_. Now\n     disposition is a kind of fictitious entity, feigned for the\n     convenience of discourse, in order to express what there\n     is supposed to be _permanent_ in a man's frame of mind. It\n     is with disposition as with everything else; it will be\n     good or bad according to its effects.\" The first quotation,\n     it will be noticed, simply states that the motive is in\n     itself always good, while conduct (_i. e._, consequences)\n     may be good, bad or indifferent. The second quotation\n     seems, however, to pass moral judgment upon character\n     under the name of disposition. But disposition is judged\n     according to the tendency of a person's actions. A good\n     or bad disposition, here, can mean nothing intrinsic to\n     the person, but only that the person has been observed to\n     act in ways that usually produce pain or pleasure, as the\n     case may be. The term is a 'fiction', and is a backhanded\n     way of expressing a somewhat habitual _result_ of a\n     given person's conduct his motive remaining good (or for\n     pleasure) all the time. The agent would never pronounce any\n     such judgment upon his own disposition, unless as a sort of\n     surprise that, his motive being 'good,' his actions turn\n     out so 'bad' all the time. At most, the judgment regarding\n     disposition is a sort of label put upon a man by others, a\n     label of \"Look out for him, he is dangerous,\" or, \"Behold,\n     a helpful man.\"\n\nThe moral standard of hedonism does not, then, bear any relation to the\ncharacter of the agent, does not enable us to judge it, either as a\nwhole or in any specific manifestation.\n\n\nXVIII.\n\nIt Does Not Give a Criterion for Concrete Acts.\n\nPleasure, as the end, fails also to throw light on the moral value of\nany specific acts. Its failure in this respect is, indeed, only the\nother side of that just spoken of. There is no organizing principle,\nno 'universal' on the basis of which various acts fall into a system\nor order. The moral life is left a series of shreds and patches, where\neach act is torn off, as to its moral value, from every other. Each\nact is right or wrong, according as _it_ gives pleasure or pain, and\nindependently of any whole of life. There is, indeed, no whole of\nmoral life at all, but only a series of isolated, disconnected acts.\nPossession, passivity, _mere_ feeling, by its very nature cannot\nunite--each feeling is itself and that is the end of it. It is action\nwhich reduces multiplicity to unity. We cannot say, in the hedonistic\ntheory, that pleasure is the end, but _pleasures_.\n\nEach act stands by itself--the only question is: What pleasure will\n_it_ give? The settling of this question is the \"hedonistic calculus.\"\nWe must discover the intensity, duration, certainty, degree of nearness\nof the pleasure likely to arise from the given act, and also its\npurity, or likelihood of being accompanied by secondary pains and\npleasures. Then we are to strike the balance between the respective\nsums on the pleasure and pain sides, and, according as this balance is\none of pleasure or pain, the act is good or evil.\n\n     Bentham, Op. cit., p. 16, was the first to go into detail\n     as to this method. He has also given certain memoriter\n     verses stating \"the points on which the whole fabric of\n     morals and legislation may be seen to rest.\n\n        Intense, long, certain, speedy, fruitful, pure,\n        Such marks in pleasures and in pains endure,\n        Such pleasures seek, if private be thy end.\n        If it be public, wide let them extend.\n        Such pains avoid whichever be thy view,\n        If pains must come, let them extend to few.\"\n\n     This, however, in its reference to others, states the\n     utilitarian as well as the hedonistic view.\n\nNow, it must be remembered that, if pleasure is the end, there is no\nintrinsic connection between the motive of the act, and its result.\nIt is not claimed that there is anything belonging intrinsically to\nthe motive of the act which makes it result in pleasure or pain. To\nmake such a claim would be to declare the moral quality of the act the\ncriterion of the pleasure, instead of pleasure the criterion of the\nact. The pleasures are external to the act; they are irrelevant and\naccidental to its quality. There is no 'universal,' no intrinsic bond\nof connection between the act and its consequences. The consequence is\na mere particular state of feeling, which, in this instance, the act\nhas happened to bring about.\n\nMore concretely, this act of truth-telling has in this instance,\nbrought about pleasure. Shall we call it right? Right in _this_\ninstance, of course; but is it right generally? Is truth-telling, as\nsuch, right, or is it merely that this instance of it happens to\nbe right? Evidently, on the hedonistic basis, we cannot get beyond\nthe latter judgment. _Prior_ to any act, there will be plenty of\ndifficulties in telling whether it, as _particular_, is right or wrong.\nThe consequences depend not merely on the result intended, but upon a\nmultitude of circumstances outside of the foresight and control of the\nagent. And there can be only a precarious calculation of possibilities\nand probabilities--a method which would always favor laxity of conduct\nin all but the most conscientious of men, and which would throw the\nconscientious into uncertainty and perplexity in the degree of their\nconscientiousness.\n\n     \"If once the pleas of instinct are to be abolished and\n     replaced by a hedonistic arithmetic, the whole realm of\n     animated nature has to be reckoned with in weaving the\n     tissue of moral relations, and the problem becomes infinite\n     and insoluble\".--Martineau, Op. cit., Vol. II, p. 334.\n\nBut waive this; let the particular case be settled. There is still no\nlaw, no principle, indeed no presumption as to future conduct. The act\nis not right _because_ it is _truth-telling_, but because, in this\ninstance, circumstances were such as to throw a balance of pleasure\nin its favor. This establishes no certainty, no probability as to its\nnext outcome. The result _then_ will depend wholly upon circumstances\nexisting _then_--circumstances which have no intrinsic relation to the\nact and which must change from time to time.\n\nThe hedonist would escape this abolition of all principle, or even\nrule, by falling back upon a number of cases--'past experience' it is\ncalled. We have found in a number of cases that a certain procedure has\nresulted in pleasure, and this result is sufficient to guide us in a\nvast number of cases which come up.\n\n     Says Mill (Op. cit., pp. 332-4): \"During the whole past\n     duration of the species, mankind have been learning by\n     experience the tendencies of actions, on which experience\n     all the prudence as well as all the morality of life are\n     dependent.... Mankind must by this time have acquired\n     positive belief as to the effects of some actions on their\n     happiness; and the beliefs which have thus come down are\n     the rules of morality for the multitude, and for the\n     philosopher, until he has succeeded in finding better....\n     Nobody argues that the art of navigation is not founded on\n     astronomy, because sailors cannot wait to calculate the\n     'Nautical Almanac'. Being rational creatures, they go to\n     sea with it ready calculated; and all rational creatures go\n     out upon the sea of life with their minds made up on the\n     common questions of right and wrong, as well as on many of\n     the far more difficult questions of wise and foolish.\"\n\nThat we do learn from experience the moral nature of actions is\nundoubted. The only question is: _if_ hedonism were true, _could_ we\nso learn? Suppose that I were convinced that the results of murder in\nthe past had been generally, or even without exception (though this\ncould not be proved), painful; as long as the act and the result in the\nway of feeling (pain or pleasure) are conceived as having no intrinsic\nconnection, this would not prove that in the present instance murder\nwill give a surplus of pain. I am not thinking of committing murder in\ngeneral, but of murder under certain specific present circumstances.\nThese circumstances may, and, to some extent, _must_ vary from all\nprevious instances of murder. How then can I reason from them to\nit? Or, rather, let me use the previous cases as much as I may, the\nmoral quality of the act I am now to perform must still be judged not\nfrom them, but from the circumstances of the present case. To judge\notherwise, is, on hedonistic principles, to be careless, perhaps\ncriminally careless as to one's conduct. The more convinced a man is\nof the truth of hedonism and the more conscientious he is, the more he\nis bound _not_ to be guided by previous circumstances, but to form his\njudgment anew concerning the new case. This result flows out of the\nvery nature of the hedonistic ideal. Pleasure is not an activity, but\nsimply a particular feeling, enduring only while it is felt. Moreover,\nthere is in it no principle which connects it intrinsically with any\n_kind_ of action. To suppose then that, because ninety-nine cases of\nmurder have resulted in pain, the hundredth will, is on a par with\nreasoning that because ninety-nine days have been frosty, the hundredth\nwill be. Each case, taken as particular, must be decided wholly by\nitself. There is no continuous moral life, and no system of conduct.\nThere is only a succession of unlike acts.\n\n     Mill, in his examination of Whewell, (Diss. and Diss.,\n     Vol. III, pp. 158-59), tries to establish a general\n     principle, if not a universal law, by arguing that, even\n     in exceptional cases, the agent is bound to respect the\n     rule, because to act otherwise would weaken the rule, and\n     thus lead to its being disregarded in other cases, in which\n     its observance results in pleasure. There are, he says,\n     persons so wicked that their removal from the earth would\n     undoubtedly increase the sum total of happiness. But if\n     persons were to violate the general rule in these cases,\n     it would tend to destroy the rule. \"If it were thought\n     allowable for any one to put to death at pleasure any human\n     being whom he believes that the world would be well rid\n     of,--nobody's life would be safe.\" That is to say, if every\n     one were really to act upon and carry out the hedonistic\n     principle, no rule of life would exist. This does very well\n     as a _reductio ad absurdum_ of hedonism, or as an argument\n     against adopting hedonism, but it is difficult to see how\n     Mill thought that it established a 'rule' on a hedonistic\n     basis. Mill's argument comes to saying that if hedonism\n     were uniformly acted upon, it would defeat itself--that\n     is, pleasure would not result. Therefore, in order to get\n     pleasure, we must not act upon the principle of hedonism\n     at all, but follow a general rule. Otherwise put: hedonism\n     gives no general rule, but we must have a general rule to\n     make hedonism works and therefore there is a general rule!\n     This begging of the question comes out even more plainly as\n     Mill goes on: \"If one person may break through the rule\n     on his own judgment, the same liberty cannot be refused to\n     others; and, since no one could rely on the rule's being\n     observed, the rule would cease to exist.\" All of this is\n     obviously true, but it amounts to saying: \"We _must_ have\n     a rule, and this we would not have if we carried out the\n     hedonistic principle in each case; therefore, we must not\n     carry it out.\" A principle, that carried out destroys all\n     rules which pretend to rest upon it, lays itself open to\n     suspicion. Mill assumes the entire question in assuming\n     that there is a rule. Grant this, and the necessity of\n     not 'making exceptions,' that is, of not applying the\n     hedonistic standard to each case, on its own merits,\n     follows. But the argument which Mill needs to meet is that\n     hedonism _requires_ us to apply the standard to each case\n     in itself, and that, therefore, there _is_ no rule. Mill\n     simply says--_assume_ the rule, and it follows, etc.\n\n     See Bradley, Op. cit., pp. 96-101; Green, Bk. IV, Ch. 3;\n     Martineau, Vol. II, pp. 329-334.\n\n\nXIX.\n\nThe Sum and the Quality of Pleasure as the Standard.\n\nWe have been dealing with hedonism in its strict form--that which makes\n_a_ pleasure, considered as to its intensity, certainty, etc., the\nend of an act. Hedonism in this form fails to unify life, and fails,\ntherefore, to supply any standard. But the end of conduct is often\nstated to be the greatest possible sum of pleasures thus introducing a\ncertain element of generality. Mill goes further and brings in the idea\nof quality of pleasure.\n\n     Regarding the sum of pleasures the following from Sidgwick\n     (Op. cit., p. 382; see also p. 114) gives the hedonistic\n     statement. \"The assumption is involved that all pleasures\n     are capable of being compared qualitatively with one\n     another and with all pains; that every feeling has a\n     certain intensive quality, positive or negative (or perhaps\n     zero) in respect to its desirableness and that the quantity\n     may be known, so that each may be weighed in ethical scales\n     against any other. This assumption is involved in the very\n     motion of maximum happiness,\" as the attempt to make \"as\n     great as possible a sum of elements not quantitatively\n     commensurable would be a mathematical absurdity.\"\n\nI. Sum of pleasures as the moral end. This, first, taken as criterion,\ncomes into conflict with the hedonistic psychology of pleasure as the\nmotive of acts; and, secondly, it requires some objective standard by\nmeans of which pleasure is to be summed, and is, in so far, a surrender\nof the whole hedonistic position.\n\n1. If the object of desire is pleasure or a state of feeling which\nexists only as it is felt, it is impossible that we should desire a\ngreatest sum of pleasures. We can desire a pleasure and that only. It\nis not even possible that we should ever desire a continuous series of\npleasures. We can desire one pleasure and when that is gone, another,\nbut we can not unify our desires enough to aim at even a sum of\npleasures.\n\n     This is well put by Green (Op. cit, p. 236). \"For the\n     feeling of a pleased person, or in relation to his sense\n     of enjoyment, pleasure cannot form a sum. However numerous\n     the sources of a state of pleasant feeling, it is one\n     and is over before another can be enjoyed. It and its\n     successors can be added together in thought, but not in\n     enjoyment or in imagination of an enjoyment. If the desire\n     is only for pleasure, _i. e._, for an enjoyment or feeling\n     of pleasure, we are simply victims of words when we talk of\n     desire for a sum of pleasures, much more when we take the\n     greatest imaginable sum to be the most desirable.\" See the\n     whole passage, pp. 235-246.\n\n2. But the phrase \"sum of pleasures\" undoubtedly has a meaning--though\nthe fact that it has a meaning shows the untruth of the hedonistic\npsychology. Surrendering this psychology, what shall we say of the\nmaximum possibility of pleasure as the criterion of the morality\nof acts? It must be conceded that this conception does afford some\nbasis--although a rather slippery one--for the unification of conduct.\nEach act is considered now not in its isolation merely, but in its\nconnection with other acts, according as its relation to them may\nincrease or decrease the possible sum of future happiness. But this\nvery fact that some universal, or element of relation, albeit a\nquantitative one, has been introduced, arouses this inquiry: Whence\ndo we derive it? How do we get the thought of a sum of pleasure,\nand of a maximum sum? _Only by taking into account the objective\nconditions upon which pleasures depend, and by judging the pleasures\nfrom the standpoint of these objective conditions._ When we imagine\nwe are thinking of a sum of pleasures, we are really thinking of\nthat totality of conditions which will come nearest affording us\nself-satisfaction--we are thinking of a comprehensive and continuous\nactivity whose various parts are adjusted to one another. Because it is\ncomplete activity, it is necessarily conceived as giving the greatest\npossible pleasure, but apart from reference to complete activity and\napart from the objects in which this is realized, the phrase 'greatest\nsum of happiness' is a mere phrase. Pleasures must be measured by a\nstandard, by a yard stick, before they can be summed in thought, and\nthe yard stick we use is the activity in which the pleasure comes. We\ndo not measure conduct by pleasure, but we compare and sum up pleasures\non the basis of the objects which occasion them. To add feelings, mere\ntransitory consequences, without first reducing those feelings to a\ncommon denominator by their relation to one objective standard, is an\nimpossibility. Pleasure is a sort of sign or symbol of the object which\nsatisfies, and we may carry on our judgment, if we will, in terms of\nthe sign, without reference to the standard, but to argue as if the\nsign were the thing, as if the sum of pleasure were the activity, is\nsuicidal.\n\n     Thus Green says (Op. cit., p. 244): \"In truth a man's\n     reference to his own true happiness is a reference to the\n     objects which chiefly interest him, and has its controlling\n     power on that account. More strictly, it is a reference\n     to an ideal state of well-being, a state in which he\n     shall be satisfied; _but the objects of the man's chief\n     interests supply the filling of that ideal state_.\" See the\n     argument as put by Alexander (Moral Order and Progress,\n     pp. 199-200). Alexander has also brought out (Ibid., pp.\n     207-210) that even if we are going to use a quantitative\n     standard, the idea of a sum is not a very happy one. It\n     is not so much a sum of pleasures we want, as a certain\n     proportionate distribution and combination of pleasures.\n     \"To regard the greatest sum of pleasures as the test of\n     conduct, supposing that we could express it in units of\n     pleasure, would be like declaring that when you had an\n     atomic weight of 98 you had sulphuric acid. The numerical\n     test would be useless unless we knew what elements were\n     to be combined, and in what proportion. Similarly till we\n     know what kinds of activities (and therefore what kinds\n     of pleasures) go with one another to form the end, the\n     greatest sum of pleasures will give us only the equivalent\n     of the end, but will not tell us what the composition of\n     the end is, still less how to get at it; or, to put the\n     matter more simply, when we know what the characters of\n     persons are, and how they are combined in morality, we then\n     estimate the corresponding sum of pleasures.\" (p. 209.)\n\nII. A certain quality of pleasure the end. Some moralists, notably John\nStuart Mill, introduce considerations regarding the quality of pleasure\ninto the conception of the end. \"It is quite compatible,\" says Mill,\n\"with the principle of utility to recognize the fact that some kinds\nof pleasure are more desirable and more valuable than others.\" (p.\n310.) Is it compatible? Is kind of pleasure the same thing as pleasure?\ndoes not strict hedonism demand that all kinds of pleasure equally\npresent as to intensity in consciousness shall be of the same value?\nTo say otherwise is to give up pleasure as such as the standard and to\nhold that we have means for discriminating the respective values of\npleasures which simply, _as feelings_, are the same. It is to hold,\nthat is to say, that there is some standard of value external to the\npleasures as such, by means of which their moral quality may be judged.\nIn this case, this independent standard is the real moral criterion\nwhich we are employing. Hedonism is surrendered.\n\n     Kant's position on this point seems impregnable. \"It is\n     surprising,\" he says, \"that men otherwise astute can\n     think it possible to distinguish between higher and lower\n     desires, according as the ideas which are connected with\n     the feeling of pleasure have their origin in the senses\n     or in the understanding; for when we inquire what are the\n     determining grounds of desire, and place them in some\n     expected pleasantness, it is of no consequence whence\n     the _idea_ of this pleasing object is derived, but only\n     how much it _pleases_.... The only thing that concerns\n     one, in order to decide choice, is how great, how long\n     continued, how easily obtained and how often repeated,\n     this agreeableness is. For as to the man who wants money\n     to spend, it is all the same whether the gold was dug out\n     of the mountain or washed out of the sand, provided it is\n     every-where accepted at the same value; so the man who\n     cares only for the enjoyment of life does not ask whether\n     the ideas are of the understanding or the senses, but only\n     _how much_ and _how great pleasure_ they will give for the\n     longest time.\"\n\n     See also Bradley, Op. cit., pp. 105-110.\n\nWhen we ask how the differences in quality are established and how\nwe translate this qualitative difference into moral difference, the\nsurrender of pleasure as the standard becomes even more evident.\nWe must know not only the fact of different qualities, but how to\ndecide which is 'higher' than any other. We must bring the qualities\nbefore a tribunal of judgment which applies to them some standard of\nmeasurement. In themselves qualities may be different, but they are not\nhigher and lower. What is the tribunal and what is the law of judgment?\nAccording to Mill the tribunal is the preference of those who are\nacquainted with both kinds of pleasure.\n\n     \"Of two pleasures, if there be one to which all, or almost\n     all who have experience of both, give a decided preference,\n     irrespective of any feeling of moral obligation to prefer\n     it, that is the more desirable pleasure.\" It is an\n     unquestionable fact that such differences exist. \"Few human\n     creatures would consent to be changed into any of the lower\n     animals for a promise of the fullest allowance of a beast's\n     pleasures. No intelligent person would consent to be a\n     fool; no instructed person would be an ignoramus; no person\n     of feeling and conscience would be selfish and base,\n     even though they should be persuaded that the fool, the\n     dunce or the rascal is better satisfied with his lot than\n     they are with theirs.... It is better to be a human being\n     dissatisfied, than a pig satisfied; better to be a Socrates\n     dissatisfied, than a fool satisfied. And if the fool or the\n     pig are of a different opinion, it is because they only\n     know their own side of the question. The other party to the\n     comparison knows both sides.\"--Mill, Op. cit., pp. 311-313.\n     And in an omitted portion Mill says the reason that one\n     of the higher faculty would prefer a suffering which goes\n     along with that higher capacity, to more pleasure on a\n     lower plane, is something of which \"the most appropriate\n     appellation is a sense of dignity, which all human beings\n     possess in one form or another.\"\n\nA question immediately arises regarding this standard of preferability.\nIs it the mere historical fact that some man, who has experienced both,\nprefers A to B that makes A more desirable? Surely I might say that if\nthat person prefers A, A is more desirable to him, but that I for my\npart prefer B, and that I do not intend to give up my preference. And\nwhy should I, even though thousands of other men happened to prefer A?\nB is the greater pleasure, none the less, to me, and as a hedonist I\nmust cling to the only standard that I have. The hedonists, in a word,\nhave appealed to feeling, and to feeling they must go for judgment. And\nfeeling exists only as it is felt and only to him who feels it.\n\nOn the other hand, perhaps it is not the bare act that some men prefer\none pleasure to another that makes it more desirable, but something\nin the character of the men who prefer. And this is what Mill implies.\nIt is a \"sense of dignity\" belonging to man which makes his judgment\nof pleasure better than that of animals; it is the human being against\nthe pig, Socrates against the fool, the good man against the rascal.\nThis is the complete surrender of hedonism, and the all but explicit\nassertion that human character, goodness, wisdom, are the criteria of\npleasure, instead of pleasure the criterion of character and goodness.\nMill's \"sense of dignity,\" which is to be considered in all estimates\nof pleasures, is just the sense of a moral (or active) capacity and\ndestiny belonging to man. To refer pleasures to _this_ is to make it\nthe standard, and with this standard the anti-hedonist may well be\ncontent, while asking, however, for its further analysis.\n\nTo sum up our long discussion of pleasure as a criterion of conduct\nin respect of its unity, we may say: Pleasure, _as it actually exists\nin man_, may be taken as _a_ criterion, although not the really\nprimary one, of action. But this is not hedonism; for pleasure as it\n_exists_ is something more than pleasurable feeling; it is qualified\nthrough and through by the kind of action which it accompanies, by\nthe kind of objects which the activity comprehends. And thus it is\nalways a secondary criterion. The moment we begin to analyze we\nmust ask what _kind of activity_, what kind of object it is which\nthe pleasure accompanies and of which it is a symbol. We may, if we\nwill, calculate a man's wealth in terms of dollars and cents; but this\nis only because we can translate the money, the symbol, into goods,\nthe reality. To desire pleasure instead of an activity of self, is\nto substitute symbol for fact, and a symbol cut off from fact ceases\nto be a symbol. Pleasure, as the hedonist treats it, mere agreeable\nfeeling without active and thus objective relationships, is wholly an\nabstraction. Since an abstraction, to make it the end of desire results\nin self-contradiction; while to make it the standard of conduct is to\ndeprive life of all unity, all system, in a word--of all standard.\n\n\nXX.\n\nThe Failure of Pleasure as a Standard to Unify Conduct Socially.\n\nThus far our examination of the hedonistic criterion has been devoted\nto showing that it will not make a system out of individual conduct.\nWe have now to recognize the fact that pleasure is not a common good,\nand therefore fails to give a social unity to conduct--that is, it does\nnot offer an end for which men may co\u00f6perate, or a good which reached\nby one must be shared by another. No argument is needed to show,\ntheoretically, that any proposed moral criterion must, in order to be\nvalid, harmonize the interests and activities of different men, or to\nshow, practically, that the whole tendency of the modern democratic\nand philanthropic movement has been to discover and realize a good\nin which men shall share on the basis of an equal principle. It is\ncontended that hedonism fails to satisfy these needs. According to it,\nthe end for each man is his own pleasure. Pleasure is nothing objective\nin which men may equally participate. It is purely individual in the\nmost exclusive sense of that term. It is a state of feeling and can\nbe enjoyed only while felt, and only by the one who feels it. To set\nit up for the ideal of conduct is to turn life into an exclusive and\nexcluding struggle for possession of the means of personal enjoyment;\nit is to erect into a principle the idea of the war of all against\nall. No end more thoroughly disintegrating than individual agreeable\nsensation could well be imagined.\n\n     Says Kant, (page 116 of Abbott's Trans., entitled Kant's\n     Theory of Ethics) on the basis of the desire of happiness\n     \"there results a harmony like that which a certain\n     satirical poem depicts as existing between a married couple\n     bent on going to ruin: O, marvellous harmony, what he\n     wishes, she wishes also; or like what is said of the pledge\n     of Francis I to the emperor Charles V, what my brother\n     Charles wishes that I wish also (_viz._, Milan).\"\n\nAlmost all modern moralists who take pleasure as the end conceive it\nto be not individual pleasure, but the happiness of all men or even\nof all sentient creatures. Thus we are brought to the consideration of\nUtilitarianism.\n\n     Says Mill (Op. cit., p. 323), \"The happiness which forms\n     the Utilitarian standard of what is right in conduct is\n     not the agent's own happiness, but that of all concerned;\n     as between his own happiness and that of others,\n     Utilitarianism requires him to be as strictly impartial\n     as a disinterested and benevolent spectator.\" And (page\n     315) the Utilitarian standard is \"not the agent's own\n     greatest happiness, but the greatest amount of happiness\n     altogether.\" See also Sidgwick (Op. cit., p. 379), \"By\n     Utilitarianism is here meant the ethical theory, first\n     distinctly formulated by Bentham, that the conduct which,\n     under any given circumstances is externally or objectively\n     right is that which will produce the greatest amount of\n     happiness _on the whole_; that is, taking into account\n     all whose happiness is affected by the conduct. It would\n     tend to clearness if we might call this principle, and the\n     method based upon it, by some such name as Universalistic\n     hedonism.\" As popularly put, the utilitarian standard is\n     the \"greatest happiness of the greatest number.\" While\n     in its calculation \"each is to count for one and only\n     one.\" (_Bentham_). And finally Bain (Emotions and Mill,\n     p. 303), \"Utility is opposed to the selfish theory, for,\n     as propounded, it always implies the good of society\n     generally, and the subordination of individual interests to\n     the general good.\"\n\n\nXXI.\n\nCriticism of Utilitarianism.\n\nThe utilitarian theory certainly does away entirely with one of the\ntwo main objections to hedonism--its failure to provide a general,\nas distinct from a private end. The question which we have to meet,\nhowever, is whether this extension of the end from the individual to\nsociety is consistent with the fundamental principles of hedonism.\n_How_ do we get from individual pleasure to the happiness of all?\n\n     An intuitional utilitarian, like Sidgwick, has ready an\n     answer which is not open to the empirical utilitarians,\n     like Bentham, Mill and Bain. Methods of Ethics, Bk. III,\n     ch. 13-14, p. 355. \"We may obtain the _self-evident\n     principle_ that the good of any one individual is of no\n     more importance, as a part of universal good, than the\n     good of any other. The abstract principle of the duty\n     of benevolence, _so far as it is cognizable by direct\n     intuition_\" is, \"that one is morally bound to regard the\n     good of any other individual as much as one's own\"--and\n     page 364, \"_the principles, so far as they are immediately\n     known by abstract intuition_, can only be stated as\n     precepts to seek (1) one's own good on the whole, and (2)\n     the good of any other no less than one's own, in so far as\n     it is no less an element of universal good.\" Sidgwick, that\n     is, differs in two important points from most utilitarians.\n     He holds that pleasure is not the sole, or even the usual\n     object of desire. And he holds that we have an immediate\n     faculty of rational intuition which informs us that the\n     good of others is as desirable an end of our conduct as is\n     our own happiness. Our former arguments against pleasure as\n     the _end_, bear, of course, equally against this theory,\n     but not the following arguments. Criticisms of this\n     position of Sidgwick's will be found in Green (Op. cit.,\n     pp. 406-415); Bradley (Op. cit., pp. 114-117).\n\nThe popular answer to the question how we get from individual to\ngeneral happiness, misses the entire point of the question. This\nanswer simply says that happiness is '_intrinsically_ desirable'. Let\nit be so; but 'happiness' in this general way is a mere abstraction.\nHappiness is always a particular condition of one particular person.\nWhose happiness is desirable and _to whom_? Because my happiness is\nintrinsically desirable to me, does it follow that your happiness is\nintrinsically desirable to me? Indeed, in the hedonistic psychology,\nis it not nonsense to say that a state of your feeling is desirable\nto me? Mill's amplified version of the popular answer brings out the\nambiguity all the more plainly. He says (Utilitarianism, p. 349), \"No\nreason can be given why the general happiness is desirable, except that\neach person, so far as he believes it to be obtainable, desires his own\nhappiness. This, however, being a fact, we have not only all the proof\nwhich the case admits of, but all which it is possible to require, that\nhappiness is a good; that each person's happiness is a good to that\nperson; and the general happiness, therefore, a good to the aggregate\nof all persons.\" But does it follow that because the happiness of A is\nan end to A, the happiness of B an end to B, and the happiness of C an\nend to C, that, therefore, the happiness of B and C is an end to A?\nThere is obviously no connection between the premises and the supposed\nconclusion. And there appears to be, as Mill puts it, only an account\nof the ambiguity of his last clause, \"the general happiness a good to\nthe aggregate of all persons.\" The good of A and B and C may be a good\nto the aggregate (A + B + C), but what universalistic hedonism requires\nis that the aggregate good of A + B + C, be a good to A and to B and\nto C taken separately--a very different proposition. Mill is guilty\nof the fallacy known logically as the fallacy of division--arguing\nfrom a collective whole to the distributed units. Because all men\nwant to be happy, it hardly follows that every man wants all to be\nhappy. There is, accordingly, no _direct_ road from individualistic\nhedonism--private pleasure--to universalistic--general pleasure.\nMoreover, if we adopt the usual psychology of hedonism and say that\npleasure is the motive of acting, it is absolutely absurd to say that\ngeneral pleasure can be a motive. How can I be moved by the happiness\nwhich exists in some one else? I may feel a pleasure resembling his,\nand be moved by it, but that is quite a different matter.\n\n\nXXII.\n\nIndirect Means of Identifying Private and General Pleasure.\n\nIs there any _indirect_ method of going from the pleasure of one to\nthe pleasure of all? Upon the whole, the utilitarians do not claim\nthat there is any natural and immediate connection between the desire\nfor private and for general happiness, but suppose that there are\ncertain means which are instrumental in bringing about an identity. Of\nthese means the sympathetic emotions and the influence of law and of\neducation are the chief. Each of these, moreover, co\u00f6perates with the\nother.\n\n\n1. _Sympathetic and Social Emotions._\n\nWe are so constituted by nature that we take pleasure in the happiness\nof others and feel pain in their misery. A proper regard for our own\nwelfare must lead us, therefore, to take an interest in the pleasure\nof others. Our own feelings, moreover, are largely influenced by the\nfeelings of others toward us. If we act in a certain way we shall\nincur the disapprobation of others, and this, independently of any\novert punishment it may lead them to inflict upon us, arouses feelings\nof shame, of inferiority, of being under the displeasure of others,\nfeelings all of which are decidedly painful. The more enlightened our\njudgment, the more we see how our pleasures are bound up in those of\nothers.\n\n     \"The Dictates of Utility\" (Bentham, Op. cit., p. 56)\n     \"are neither more nor less than the dictates of the\n     most extensive and enlightened (that is, well advised)\n     benevolence,\" and (p. 18), \"The pleasures of benevolence\n     are the pleasures resulting from the view of any pleasures\n     supposed to be possessed by the beings who may be the\n     objects of benevolence.... These may also be called the\n     pleasures of good will, the pleasures of sympathy, or the\n     pleasures of the benevolent or social affections\"; and (p.\n     144), \"What motives (independent of such as legislation and\n     religion may choose to furnish) can one man have to consult\n     the happiness of another?... In answer to this, it cannot\n     but be admitted that the only interests which a man at all\n     times and upon all occasions is sure to find _adequate_\n     motives for consulting, are his own. Notwithstanding this,\n     there are no occasions in which a man has not some motives\n     for consulting the happiness of other men. In the first\n     place he has, on all occasions, the purely social motive\n     of sympathy and benevolence; in the next place he has,\n     on most occasions, the semi-social motives of love of\n     amity and love of reputation.\" And so in the Deontology,\n     which, however, was not published by Bentham himself, page\n     203, \"The more enlightened one is, the more one forms the\n     habit of general benevolence, because it is seen that the\n     interests of men combine with each other in more points\n     than they conflict in.\"\n\n\n2. _Education and Law._\n\nEducation, working directly and internally upon the feelings, and\ngovernment, appealing to them from without through commands and\npenalties, are constantly effecting an increasing identity of\nself-interest and regard for others. These means supplement the action\nof sympathy and the more instinctive emotions. They stimulate and even\ninduce a proper interest in the pleasures of others. In governmental\nlaw, with its punishments, we have an express instrument for making the\npleasures of one harmonize with (or at least not conflict with) the\npleasures of others.\n\n     Thus Bentham, after stating that an enlightened mind\n     perceives the identity of self-interest and that of\n     others (or of _egoism_ and _altruism_, as these interests\n     are now commonly called), goes on (Deontology, p. 201):\n     \"The majority do not have sufficient enlightenment, nor\n     enough moral feeling so that their character goes beyond\n     the aid of laws, and so the legislator should supplement\n     the frailty of this natural interest, in adding to it an\n     artificial interest more appreciable and more continuous.\n     Thus the government augments and extends the connexion\n     which exists between prudence and benevolence.\" Mill says\n     (Op. cit., p. 323): \"To do as you would be done by, and\n     to love your neighbor as yourself, constitute the ideal\n     perfection of utilitarian morality. As the means of making\n     the nearest approach to this ideal, utility would enjoin,\n     first, that laws and social arrangements should place the\n     happiness or the interest of every individual as nearly as\n     possible in harmony with the interest of the whole; and,\n     secondly, that education and opinion, which have so vast a\n     power over human character, should so use that power as to\n     establish in the mind of every individual an indissoluble\n     association between his own happiness and the good of the\n     whole.\"\n\n\nXXIII.\n\nPrivate Pleasures and General Welfare.\n\nIn criticism of these indirect methods of establishing the identity of\n'egoism' and 'altruism,' it may be said:\n\n1. That the supposed relation between the private and the general\nhappiness is extrinsic, and hence always accidental and open to\nexception.\n\nIt is not contended that there is any order which _morally_ demands\nthat there be an identity of interests. It is simply argued that there\nare certain physical and psychological forces which operate, _as matter\nof fact_, to bring about such a result. Now we may admit, if we like,\nthat such forces exist and that they are capable of accomplishing all\nthat Bentham and Mill claim for them. But all that is established is,\nat most, a certain state of facts which is interesting as a state of\nfacts, but which has no especial moral bearing. It is not pretended\nthat there is in the very order of things any necessary and intrinsic\nconnection between the happiness of one and of another. Such identity\nas exists, therefore, must be a mere external result of the action\nof certain forces. It is accidental. This being the case, how can it\nconstitute the universal ideal of action? Why is it not open for an\nagent, under exceptional circumstances, to act for his own pleasure,\nto the exclusion of that of others? We may admit that, upon the whole\n(or that always, though this is wholly impossible to prove) in past\nexperience, personal pleasure has been best attained by a certain\nregard for the pleasures of others; but the connection being wholly\nempirical (that is, of past instances and not of an intrinsic law), we\nmay ask how it can be claimed that the same connection is _certain_ to\nhold in this new case? Nor is it probable that any one would claim that\nthe connection between individual pleasure and general pleasure had\nbeen so universal and invariable in past experience.\n\n_Intrinsic moral considerations_ (that is, those based on the very\nnature of human action) being put aside, a pretty strong case could be\nmade out for the statement that individual happiness is best attained\nby ignoring the happiness of others. Probably the most that can be\nestablished on the other side is that a due prudence dictates that\n_some_ attention be paid to the pleasures of others, in calculating\none's own pleasures.\n\nAnd this suggests:\n\n2. That the end is still private pleasure, general pleasure being\nsimply a means. Granting all that the hedonists urge, what their\narguments prove is not that the general pleasure is the end of action,\nbut that, private pleasure being the end, regard for the pleasures of\nothers is one of the most efficient means of reaching it. If private\npleasure is a selfish end, the end is not less selfish because the road\nto it happens to bring pleasure to others also.\n\n     See Royce, Religious Aspect of Philosophy, pp. 61-74.\n\n3. The use of education and law to bring about this identity,\npresupposes that we already have the _ideal_ of the identity as\nsomething desirable to realize--it takes for granted the very thing to\nbe proved. Why should it occur to men to use the private influence of\nopinion and education, and the public influences of law and penalty\nto identify private welfare with public, unless they were already\nconvinced that general welfare was the end of conduct, the one\ndesirable thing? What the hedonist has to do is to show how, from the\nend of private happiness, we may get to the end of general happiness.\nWhat Bentham and Mill do show is, that if we take general happiness as\nthe end, we may and do use education and law to bring about an identity\nof personal and general pleasures. This may go undoubted, but the\nquestion how we get the general happiness as the end, the good, remains\nunanswered.\n\nNor is this all. The conception of general happiness, taken by itself,\nhas all the abstractness, vagueness and uncertainty of that of personal\nhappiness, multiplied indefinitely by the greater number of persons\nintroduced. To calculate the effects of actions upon the general\nhappiness--when happiness is interpreted as a state of feeling--is an\nimpossibility. And thus it is that when one is speaking of pleasures\none is really thinking of welfare, or well-being, or satisfied and\nprogressive human lives. Happiness is considered as it would be, if\ndetermined by certain active and well defined interests, and thus the\nhedonistic theory, while contradicting itself, gets apparently all\nthe support of an opposed theory. Universalistic hedonism thus, more\nor less expressly, takes for granted a social order, or community of\npersons, of which the agent is simply one member like any other. This\nis the ideal which it proposes to realize. In this way--although at the\ncost of logical suicide--the ideal gets a content and a definiteness\nupon which it is possible to base judgments.\n\n     That this social organization of persons is the ideal which\n     Mill is actually thinking of, rather than any succession of\n     states of agreeable sensation, is evident by his treatment\n     of the whole subject. Mill is quite clear that education\n     and opinion may produce _any_ sort of feeling, as well as\n     truly benevolent motives to actions. For example, in his\n     critique of Whewell, he says, (Op. cit., p. 154): \"All\n     experience shows that the moral feelings are pre\u00ebminently\n     artificial, and the products of culture; that even when\n     reasonable, they are no more spontaneous than the growth\n     of corn and wine (which are quite as natural), and that\n     the most senseless and pernicious feeling can as easily be\n     raised to the utmost intensity by inculcation, as hemlock\n     and thistles could be reared to luxuriant growth by sowing\n     them instead of wheat.\" It is certainly implied here that\n     legislation, education and public opinion must have as a\n     presupposed standard the identity of general and private\n     interests or else they may produce anything whatever.\n     That is to say, Mill instead of arriving at his result of\n     general happiness simply takes it for granted.\n\n     This fact and the further fact that he virtually defines\n     happiness through certain objective interests and ends\n     (thus reversing the true hedonistic position) is obvious\n     from the following, (Mill, Op. cit., pp. 343-347): After\n     again stating that the moral feelings are capable of\n     cultivation in almost any direction, and stating that\n     moral associations that are of artificial construction\n     dissolve through the force of intellectual analysis (_cf._\n     his Autobiography, p. 136), and that the association\n     of pleasure with the feeling of duty would similarly\n     dissolve unless it had a _natural_ basis of sentiment, he\n     goes on. \"But there is this basis of powerful _natural_\n     sentiment. This firm foundation is that of the social\n     feelings of mankind; the desire to be in unity with our\n     fellow-creatures. _The social state is at once so natural,\n     so necessary, and so habitual to man that except in some\n     unusual circumstances, or by an effort of voluntary\n     abstraction he never conceives of himself otherwise than\n     as a member of a body._ Any condition, therefore, which\n     is essential to a state of society becomes more and more\n     an inseparable part of every person's conception of the\n     state of things which he is born into, and which is the\n     destiny of a human being.\" Mill then goes on to describe\n     some of the ways in which the social unity manifests itself\n     and influences the individual's conduct. Then the latter\n     \"comes, as though instinctively, to be conscious of himself\n     as a being who _of course_ pays regard to others. The good\n     of others becomes to him a thing naturally and necessarily\n     to be attended to, like any of the physical conditions of\n     our existence. _The deeply-rooted conception which every\n     individual even now has of himself as a social being tends\n     to make him feel it as one of his natural wants, that there\n     should be harmony between his feelings and aims and those\n     of his fellow-creatures._ This conviction is the ultimate\n     sanction of the greatest happiness morality.\"\n\nIt is to be noticed that there is involved in this account three ideas,\nany one of which involves such a reconstruction of the pleasure theory\nas to be a surrender of hedonism.\n\n1. There is, in one instance, a _natural_ (or intrinsic) connection\nbetween the end of conduct and the feelings, and not simply an\nexternal or artificial bond. This is in the case of the social\nfeelings. In other words, in one case the ideal, that is, happiness,\nis intrinsically, or necessarily connected with a certain kind of\nconduct, that flowing from the social impulses. This, of course,\nreverses hedonism for it makes happiness dependent upon a certain kind\nof conduct, instead of determining the nature of conduct according as\nit happens to result in pleasure or pain.\n\n2. Man conceives of himself, of his end or of his destiny as a member\nof a social body, and this conception determines the nature of his\nwants and aims. That is to say, it is not mere happiness that a man\nwants, but a certain _kind_ of happiness, that which would satisfy a\nman who conceived of himself as social, or having ends and interests in\ncommon with others.\n\n3. Finally, it is not mere general \"happiness\" which is the end, at\nall. It is social unity; \"harmony of feelings and aims,\" a beneficial\ncondition for one's self in which the benefits of all are included.\nInstead of the essentially vague idea of states of pleasurable\nsensation we have the conception of a community of interests and ends,\nin securing which alone is true happiness to be found. This conception\nof the moral ideal we regard as essentially true, but it is not\nhedonism. It gives up wholly the notion that pleasure is the _desired_,\nand, since it sets up a standard by which it determines pleasure, it\ngives up equally the notion that pleasure as such is the _desirable_.\n\n     In addition to the works already referred to, the following\n     will give fuller ideas of hedonism and utilitarianism: For\n     historical treatment see Sidgwick, History of Ethics; Jodl,\n     Geschichte der Ethik, Vol. II., pp. 482-468; Bain, Moral\n     Science, Historical Mention; Guyau, La Morale Anglaise\n     Contemporaine; Wallace, Epicureanism; Pater, Marius, the\n     Epicurean; Paley, Moral and Political Philosophy; Grote,\n     Examination of the Utilitarian Philosophy (especially\n     fair and valuable criticism); Lecky, History of European\n     Morals, Vol. I, ch. I; Birks, Utilitarianism (hostile);\n     Blackie, Four Phases of Morals: Essay on Utilitarianism\n     (hostile); Gizycki, Students' Manual of Ethical Philosophy,\n     (Coit's trans., favorable); Calderwood, Hand-Book of Moral\n     Philosophy (opposed); Laurie, Ethica (_e. g._, p. 10). \"The\n     object of will is not pleasure, not yet happiness, but\n     reason-given law--the law of harmony; but this necessarily\n     ascertained through feeling, and, therefore, through\n     happiness.\"\n\n     Wilson and Fowler, Principles of Morals, Vol. I, pp.\n     98-112; Vol. II, pp. 262-273. Paulsen, System der Ethik,\n     pp. 195-210.\n\n\nXXIV.\n\nThe Utilitarian Theory Combined With the Doctrine of Evolution.\n\nThere has lately been an attempt to combine utilitarian morality with\nthe theory of evolution. This position, chiefly as occupied by Herbert\nSpencer and Leslie Stephen, we shall now examine.\n\n     Alexander, also, Moral Order and Progress, makes large use\n     of the theory of evolution, but does not attempt to unite\n     it with any form of hedonism.\n\nFor the combination, at least three decided advantages are claimed over\nordinary utilitarianism.\n\n1. It transforms 'empirical rules' into 'rational laws.' The\nevolutionary hedonists regard pleasure as the good, but hold that the\ntheory of evolution enables them to judge _of the relation of acts to\npleasure_ much better than the ordinary theory. As Mr. Spencer puts\nit, the ordinary theory is not scientific, because it does not fully\nrecognize the principle of causation as existing between certain\nacts as causes, and pleasures (or pains) as effects. It undoubtedly\nrecognizes that some acts _do_ result in pain or pleasure, but does\nnot show _how_ or _why_ they so result. By the aid of the theory of\nevolution we can demonstrate that certain acts _must_ be beneficial\nbecause furthering evolution, and others painful because retarding it.\n\n     Spencer, Data of Ethics, pp. 5758. \"Morality properly\n     so-called--the science of right conduct--has for its object\n     to determine _how_ and _why_ certain rules of conduct are\n     detrimental, and certain other rules beneficial. Those good\n     and bad results cannot be accidental, but must be necessary\n     consequences of the constitution of things; and I conceive\n     it to be the business of moral science to _deduce, from\n     the laws of life and the conditions of existence_, what\n     kinds of action _necessarily_ tend to produce happiness,\n     and what kinds to produce unhappiness. Having done this,\n     its deductions are to be recognized as laws of conduct; and\n     are to be conformed to irrespective of a direct estimation\n     of happiness or misery.... The objection which I have to\n     the current utilitarianism is, that it recognizes no more\n     developed form of utility--does not see that it has reached\n     but the initial stage of moral science.... It is supposed\n     that in future, as now, utility is to be determined only by\n     observation of results; and that there is no possibility\n     of knowing by deduction from fundamental principles what\n     conduct _must_ be detrimental and what conduct _must_ be\n     beneficial.\" _Cf._ also ch. IX, and Stephen, Science of\n     Ethics, ch. IX.\n\nIt is contended, then, that by the use of the evolutionary theory, we\nmay substitute certain conditions, which in the very nature of things\ntend to produce happiness, for a calculation, based upon observation\nof more or less varying cases in the past, of the probable results of\nthe specific action. Thus we get a fixed objective standard and do\naway with all the objections based upon the uncertainty, vagueness and\nliability to exceptions, of the ordinary utilitarian morality.\n\n     Spencer, Op. cit., p. 162: \"When alleging that empirical\n     utilitarianism is but introductory to rational\n     utilitarianism I pointed out that the last does not take\n     welfare for its _immediate_ object of pursuit, but takes\n     for its immediate object of pursuit conformity to certain\n     principles which, in the nature of things, causally\n     determine welfare.\"\n\n2. It reconciles 'intuitionalism' with 'empiricism.' The theory of\nevolution not only gives us an objective standard on which happiness\nnecessarily depends, and from which we may derive our laws of conduct,\ninstead of deriving them from observation of particular cases, but\nit enables us to recognize that there are certain moral ideas now\ninnate or intuitive. The whole human race, the whole animal race, has\nfor an indefinite time been undergoing experiences of what leads to\npleasure and of what leads to pain, until finally the results of these\nexperiences have become organized into our very physical and mental\nmake-up. The first point was that we could substitute for consideration\nof results consideration of the causes which determine these results;\nthe present point is that so far as we have to use results, we can use\nthose of the race, instead of the short span of the individual's life.\n\n     Spencer, Op. cit., pp. 123-124. \"The experiences of utility\n     organized and consolidated through all past generations\n     of the human race have been producing corresponding\n     nervous modifications, which, by continued transmission\n     and accumulation, have become in us certain faculties\n     of moral intuition--certain emotions corresponding to\n     right and wrong conduct, which have no apparent basis in\n     the individual experiences of utility.... The evolution\n     hypothesis thus enables us to reconcile opposed moral\n     theories.... The doctrine of innate powers of moral\n     perception become congruous with the utilitarian doctrine,\n     when it is seen that preferences and aversions are rendered\n     organic by inheritance of the effects of pleasurable and\n     painful experiences in progenitors.\"\n\n3. It reconciles 'egoism' with 'altruism.' As we have seen, the\nrelation of personal pleasure to general happiness presents very\nserious difficulties to hedonism. It is claimed, however, that the\nvery process of evolution necessitates a certain identity. The being\nwhich survives must be the being which has properly adapted himself to\nhis environment, which is largely social, and there is assurance that\nthe conduct will be adapted to the environment just in the degree in\nwhich pleasure is taken in acts which concern the welfare of others.\nIf an agent has no pleasure in such acts he will either not perform\nthem, or perform them only occasionally, and thus will not meet the\nconditions of surviving. If surrounding conditions demand constantly\ncertain actions, those actions in time must come to be pleasurable. The\nconditions of survival demand altruistic action, and hence such action\nmust become pleasurable to the agent (and in that sense egotistic).\n\n     \"From the laws of life (Spencer Op. cit., p. 205) it must\n     be concluded that unceasing social discipline will so mould\n     human action, that eventually sympathetic pleasures will\n     be pursued to the fullest extent advantageous to each and\n     all.... Though pleasure may be gained by giving pleasure,\n     yet the thought of the sympathetic pleasure to be gained\n     will not occupy consciousness, but only the thought of the\n     pleasure given.\"\n\n\nXXV.\n\nCriticism of Evolutionary Utilitarianism.\n\nRegarding the whole foregoing scheme, it may be said so far as it is\ntrue, or suggestive of truth, it is not hedonistic. It does not judge\nactions from their effects in the way of pleasure or pain, but it\njudges pleasures from the basis of an independent standard 'in the\nnature of things.' It is expressly declared that happiness is not to\nbe so much the end, as the _test_ of conduct, and it is not happiness\nin general, of every sort and kind, but a certain kind of happiness,\nhappiness conditioned by certain modes of activity, that is the test.\nSpencer's hedonism in its final result hardly comes to more than saying\nthat in the case of a perfect individual in a perfect society, every\naction whatever would be accompanied by pleasure, and that, therefore,\n_in such a society_, pleasure would be an infallible sign and test of\nthe morality of action--a position which is not denied by any ethical\nwriter whatever, unless a few extreme ascetics. Such a position simply\ndetermines the value of pleasure by an independent criterion, and then\ngoes on to say _of pleasure so determined_, that it is the test of\nthe morality of action. This may be true, but, true or not, it is not\nhedonistic.\n\nFurthermore, this standard by which the nature of pleasure is\ndetermined is itself an ethical (that is, active) standard. We have\nalready seen that Spencer conceives that the modes of producing\nhappiness are to be deduced from the \"laws of life and the conditions\nof existence\". This might be, of course, a deduction from _physical_\nlaws and conditions. But when we find that the laws and conditions\nwhich Spencer employs are mainly those of _social_ life, it is\ndifficult to see why he is not employing a strictly ethical standard.\nTo deduce not right actions directly from happiness, but the kinds of\nactions which will produce happiness from a consideration of a certain\nideal of social relationships seems like a reversal of hedonism; but\nthis is what Mr. Spencer does.\n\n\nXXVI.\n\nThe Real Criterion of Evolutionary Ethics.\n\nMr. Spencer expressly recognizes that there exists (1) an ideal code of\nconduct, formulating the conduct of the completely adapted man in the\ncompletely evolved society. Such a code is called absolute ethics as\ndistinguished from relative ethics--a code the injunctions of which\nare alone to be considered \"as absolutely right, in contrast with those\nthat are relatively right or least wrong, and which, as a system of\nideal conduct, is to serve as a standard for our guidance in solving,\nas well as we can, the problems of real conduct\" (p. 275 of the Data of\nEthics). \"The ideal code deals, it will be observed, with the behavior\nof the completely adapted man in a completely evolved society.\" This\nideal as elsewhere stated, is \"an ideal social being so constituted\nthat his spontaneous activities are congruous with the conditions\nimposed by the social environment formed by other such beings.... The\nultimate man is one in whom there is a correspondence between all\nthe promptings of his nature and all the requirements of his life as\ncarried on in society\" (p. 275). Furthermore, \"to make the ideal man\nserve as a standard, he has to be defined _in terms of the conditions\nwhich his nature fulfill_--in terms of the objective requisites which\nmust be met before conduct can be right\" (p. 179). \"Hence it is\nmanifest that we must consider the ideal man as existing in the ideal\nsocial state\" (p. 280).\n\nHere we have in the most express terms the recognition of a final and\npermanent standard with reference to which the nature of happiness is\ndetermined, and the standard is one of social relationships. To be\nsure it is claimed that the standard is one which results in greatest\nhappiness, but every ethical theory has always claimed that the ideal\nmoral condition would be accompanied by the maximum possible happiness.\n\n2. The ideal state is defined with reference to the end of evolution.\nThat is, Spencer defines pleasure from an independent standard instead\nof using pleasure as the standard. This standard is to be got at by\nconsidering that idea of \"fully evolved conduct\" given by the theory of\nevolution. This fully evolved conduct implies: (i.) Greatest possible\nquantity of life, both in length and breadth; (ii.) Similar maintenance\nof life in progeny; and (iii.) Life in which there is no interference\nof actions by one with those of another, and, indeed, life in which\nthe \"members of a society\" give material help in the achievement of\nends, thus rendering the \"lives of all more complete\". (See Chap. II\nof Data of Ethics). Furthermore, the \"complete life here identified\nwith the ideally moral life\" may be otherwise defined as a life of\nperfect equilibrium (p. 74), or balance of functions (p. 90), and this\nconsidered not simply with reference to the individual, but also with\nreference to the relation of the individual to society. \"Complete life\nin a complete society is but another name for complete equilibrium\nbetween the co-ordinated activities of each social unit and those of\nthe aggregate of units\" (p. 74, and the whole of chap. V. See also\npp. 169-170 for the position that the end is a society in which each\nindividual has full functions freely exercised in due harmony, and is,\np. 100, \"the spontaneous exercise of duly proportioned faculties\").\n\n3. Not only is pleasure thus determined by an objective standard of\n\"complete living in a complete society\" but it is expressly recognized\nthat _as things are now, pleasure is not a perfect guide to, or even\ntest of action_. And this difficulty is thought to be removed by\nreference to the ideal state in which right action and happiness will\nfully coincide.\n\nThe failure of pleasure as a perfect test and guide of right conduct,\ncomes out in at least three cases:--\n\n1. There is the conflict of one set of pleasures with another, or of\npresent happiness with future, one lot having to be surrendered for the\nsake of another. This is wrong, since pleasure as such is good, and,\nalthough a fact at present, exists only on account of the incomplete\ndevelopment of society. When there is \"complete adjustment of humanity\nto the social state there will be recognition of the truth that actions\nare completely right only when, besides being conducive to future\nhappiness, special and general, they are immediately pleasurable, and\nthat painfulness, not only ultimate but proximate, is the concomitant\nof actions which are wrong\" (p. 29. See for various cases in which\n\"pleasures are not connected with actions which must be performed\" and\nfor the statement that this difficulty will be removed in an ideal\nstate of society, p. 77; pp. 85-87; pp. 98-99).\n\n2. There is also, at present, a conflict of individual happiness with\nsocial welfare. In the first place, as long as there exist antagonistic\nsocieties, the individual is called upon to sacrifice his own happiness\nto that of others, but \"such moralities are, by their definition, shown\nto belong to incomplete conduct; not to conduct that is fully evolved\"\n(See pp. 133-137). Furthermore, there will be conflict of claims, and\nconsequent compromises between one's own pleasure and that of others\n(p. 148), until there is a society in which there is \"complete living\nthrough voluntary co-operation\", this implying negatively that one\nshall not interfere with another and shall fulfill contracts, and\npositively that men shall spontaneously help to aid one another lives\nbeyond any specified agreement (pp. 146-149).\n\n3. There is, at present, a conflict of obligation with pleasure.\nNeeded activities, in other words, have often to be performed under a\npressure, which either lessens the pleasure of the action, or brings\npain, the act being performed, however, to avoid a greater pain (so\nthat this point really comes under the first head). But \"the remoulding\nof human nature into fitness for the requirements of social life, must\neventually make all needful activities pleasurable, while it makes\ndispleasurable all activities at variance with these requirements\" (p.\n183). \"The things now done with dislike, through sense of obligation,\nwill be done then with immediate liking\" (p. 84, and p. 186; and pp.\n255-256). All the quotations on these various points are simply so many\nrecognitions that pleasure and pain as such are not tests of morality,\nbut that they become so when morality is independently realized.\nPleasure is _not_ now a test of conduct, but becomes such a test as\nfast as activity becomes full and complete! What is this but to admit\n(what was claimed in Sec. XIII) that activity itself is what man wants;\nnot _mere_ activity, but the activity which belongs to man as man,\nand which therefore has for its realized content all man's practical\nrelationships.\n\n     Of Spencer's conception of the ideal as something not now\n     realized, but to be some time or other realized once for\n     all, we have said nothing. But see below, Sec. 64, and also\n     Alexander, Op. cit., pp. 264-277, and also James, Unitarian\n     Review, Vol. XXII., pp. 212-213.\n\n     We have attempted, above, to deal with evolutionary\n     ethics only in the one point of its supposed connection\n     with pleasure as a standard. Accounts and criticisms\n     of a broader scope will be found in Darwin, Descent\n     of Man; Martineau, Op. cit., Vol. II, pp. 335-393;\n     Schurman, Ethical Import of Darwinism; Sorley, Ethics of\n     Naturalism, chapters V, and VI; Stephen, Science of Ethics,\n     particularly pp. 31-34; 78-89; 359-379; Royce, Religious\n     Aspect of Philosophy, pp. 74-85; Everett, Poetry, Comedy\n     and Duty, Essay on the New Ethics; Seth in Mind, Jan. 1889,\n     on Evolution of Morality; Dewey, Andover Review, Vol. VII,\n     p. 570; Hyslop, Ibid., Vol. IX, p. 348.\n\n\nXXVII.\n\nFormal Ethics.\n\nWe come now to the ethical theories which attempt to find the good\nnot only in the will itself, but in the will irrespective of any end\nto be reached by the will. The typical instance of such theories is\nthe Kantian, and we shall, therefore, make that the basis of our\nexamination. Kant's theory, however, is primarily a theory not of the\ngood, but of the nature of duty, and that makes a statement of his\ndoctrine somewhat more difficult.\n\n     \"The concept of good and evil must not be determined\n     before the moral law (of which it seems as if it must be\n     the foundation), but only after it and by means of it\"\n     (Abbott's Trans., p. 154).\n\nSeparating, as far as we can, his theory of the good from that of duty,\nwe get the following results:\n\n1. Goodness belongs to the will, and to that alone. \"Nothing can\npossibly be conceived, in the world or out of it, which can be called\ngood without qualification except a good will.\" The will is not good\nbecause of what it brings about, or what it is fitted to bring about;\nthat is, it is not good on account of its adaptation to any end outside\nof itself. It is good in itself. \"It is like a jewel which shines by\nits own light, having its whole value in itself.\"\n\n2. The good, then, is not to be found in any _object_ of will or of\ndesire, nor in the will _so far as it is directed towards an end\noutside itself_. For the will to be moved by inclination or by desire\nis for it to be moved for the sake of some external end, which,\nmoreover, is always pleasure (Kant, _i. e._, agrees with the hedonists\nregarding the object of desire, but on that very ground denies that\npleasure is the good or the desirable). If, then, no object of desire\ncan be the motive of a good will, what is its motive? Evidently only\nsome principle derived from the will itself. The good will is the will\nwhich acts from regard to its own law.\n\n3. What is the nature of this law? All objects of desire (_i. e._, all\nmaterial) have been excluded from it. It must, therefore, be purely\nformal. The only content of the law of the good will is the _idea of\nlaw itself_. The good will acts from reverences for law as _law_. It\nnot only acts _in conformity with law_, but has the conception of law\nas its directing spring.\n\n4. There must, however, be some application of this motive of law in\ngeneral to particular motives or acts. This is secured as follows: The\nidea of law carries with it the idea of universality or self-identity.\nTo act from the idea of law is then so to act that the motive of action\ncan be generalized--made a motive for all conduct. The good will is\nthe _legislative_ will; the will whose motive can be made a law for\nconduct universally. The question in a specific case is then: Can your\nmotive here be made universal, _i. e._, a law? If the action is bad,\ndetermined by an object of desire, it will be contingent and variable,\nsince pleasures are different to different persons and to the same\nperson from moment to moment. The will is good, then, when its motive\n(or maxim) is to be found solely in the _legislative form_ of the\naction, or in its fitness to be generalized into a universal principle\nof conduct, and the law of the good will is: \"Act so that the maxim\nof thy will can always at the same time hold good as a principle of\nuniversal legislation\" (Abbott's Trans., p. 119; also p. 55).\n\n5. The application may be illustrated by the following cases:\n\n(_a_) Some one, wearied by what he conceives to be the entire misery\nof life proposes to commit suicide, but he asks himself whether this\nmaxim based on the principle of self-love could become a universal law\nof nature; and \"we see at once that a system of nature in which the\nvery feeling, whose office is to compel men to the preservation of\nlife, should lead men by a universal law to death, cannot be conceived\nwithout contradiction\". That is to say, the principle of the motive\nwhich would lead a man to suicide cannot be generalized without\nbecoming contradictory--it cannot be made a law universal.\n\n(_b_) An individual wishes to borrow money which he knows that he\ncannot repay. Can the maxim of this act be universalized? Evidently\nnot: \"a system of nature in which it should be a universal law to\npromise without performing, for the sake of private good, would\ncontradict itself, for then no one would believe the promise--the\npromise itself would become impossible as well as the end it had in\nview.\"\n\n(_c_) A man finds that he has certain powers, but is disinclined to\ndevelop them. Can he make the maxim of such conduct a universal law? He\ncannot _will_ that it should become universal. \"As a rational being, he\nmust will that his faculties be developed.\"\n\n(_d_) A prosperous individual is disinclined to relieve the misery\nof others. Can his maxim be generalized? \"It is impossible to _will_\nthat such a principle should have the universal validity of a law of\nnature. For a will which resolved this would contradict itself, in as\nmuch as many cases might occur in which one would have need of the love\nand sympathy of others, and in which, by such a law of nature, sprung\nfrom his own will, he would deprive himself of all hope of the aid he\ndesires.\"\n\nIn conclusion, then, the good is the good will itself, and the will is\ngood in virtue of the bare form of its action, independently of all\nspecial material willed.\n\n     See Abbott's trans., pp. 9-46; 105-120. Caird's Critical\n     Philosophy of Kant, Vol. II, pp. 171-181; 209-212.\n\n\nXXVIII.\n\nRelation of this Theory to Hedonism.\n\nThe Kantian theory, as already noticed, agrees in its psychology with\nhedonism. It holds that pleasures are the objects of desire. But it\nreverses the conclusion which hedonism draws from this fact _as to the\ndesirable_. Since pleasures are the object of desire, and pleasures can\ngive no law, no universality to action, the end of action must be found\nwholly _outside_ the pleasures, and wholly outside the desires. It can\nbe found only in the bare law of the will itself.\n\n1. Hedonism finds the end of conduct, or the desirable, wholly\ndetermined by the various particular desires which a man happens to\nhave; Kantianism holds that to discover the end of conduct, we must\nwholly exclude the desires.\n\n2. Hedonism holds that the rightness of conduct is determined wholly by\nits consequences; Kantianism holds that the consequences have nothing\nto do with the rightness of an act, but that it is decided wholly by\nthe motive of the act.\n\nFrom this contrast, we may anticipate both our criticism of the Kantian\ntheory and our conception of the true end of action. The fundamental\nerror of hedonism and Kantianism is the same--the supposition that\ndesires are for pleasure only. Let it be recognized that desires\nare for objects conceived as satisfying or developing the self, and\nthat pleasure is incidental to this fulfillment of the capacities\nof self, and we have the means of escaping the one-sidedness of\nKantianism as well as of hedonism. We can see that the end is neither\nthe procuring of particular pleasures through the various desires,\nnor action from the mere idea of abstract law in general, but that it\nis the _satisfaction of desires according to law_. The desire in its\nparticular character does not give the law; this, as we saw in our\ncriticism of hedonism, is to take away all law from conduct and to\nleave us at the mercy of our chance desires as they come and go. On\nthe other hand the law is not something wholly apart from the desires.\nThis, as we shall see, is equally to deprive us of a law capable of\ngoverning conduct. The law is the law of the desires themselves--the\nharmony and adjustment of desires necessary to make them instruments in\nfulfilling the special destiny or business of the agent.\n\nFrom the same point of view we can see that the criterion is found\nneither in the consequences of our acts _as pleasures_, nor _apart from\nconsequences_. It is found indeed in the consequences of acts, _but in\ntheir complete consequences_:--those upon the agent and society, as\nhelping or hindering them in fulfillment of their respective functions.\n\n\nXXIX.\n\nCriticism of Kantian Criterion of Conduct.\n\n1. _With reference to the unification of the conduct of the\nindividual._ Of pleasure as the object of desire, we need now say\nnothing further, but may proceed at once to the criticism of the theory\nthat the will, acting according to the mere idea of law in general, is\nthe end of man and hence that it is the criterion of the rightness or\nwrongness of his acts. We shall attempt to show that such an end is\nwholly empty, and that it fails (as much as hedonism) to unify conduct\nor to place any specific act as to its morality.\n\nThe difficulty of the end proposed by Kant is that it is an\nabstraction; that it is remote. The hedonist leaves out one element\nfrom conduct, and takes into account the merely particular or\nindividualistic side; the Kantian abstracts the opposite element--the\nmerely universal. The formal universal, or universal stripped of all\nparticular content, has, considered as an end of action, at least three\ndefects.\n\nI. It is an end which would make impossible that very conduct of which\nit is taken to be the end--that is, moral conduct. In denying that\npleasure is the end of action, we took pains to show that it (or rather\nthe feeling due to the tension between pleasure of a state considered\nbetter and the pain of the experienced worse state) is a necessary\nelement in the force impelling to action. The mere conception of an\nend is purely intellectual; there is nothing in it to move to action.\nIt must be _felt_ as valuable, as worth having, and as more valuable\nthan the present condition before it can induce to action. It must\n_interest_, in a word, and thus excite desire. But if feeling is, as\nKant declares, to be excluded from the motive to action, because it\nis pathological or related to pleasure as the object of desire, how\ncan there be any force moving to action? The mind seems to be set over\nagainst a purely theoretical idea of an end, with nothing to connect\nthe mind with the end. Unless the end interests, unless it arouses\nemotion, why should the agent ever aim at it? And if the law does\nexcite feeling or desire, must not this, on Kant's theory, be desire\nfor pleasure and thus vitiate the morality of the act? We seem to\nbe in a dilemma, one side of which makes moral action impossible by\ntaking away all inducing force, while the other makes it impossible by\nintroducing an immoral factor into the motive.\n\nKant attempts to escape from this difficulty by claiming that there\nis one feeling which is rational, and not sensuous in quality, being\nexcited not by the conception of pleasure or pain, but by that of the\nmoral law itself. This is the feeling of reverence, and through this\nfeeling we can be moved to moral action. Waiving the question whether\nthe mere idea of law in general would be capable of arousing any moral\nsentiment--or, putting the matter from the other side, whether Kant\ngives us a true account of the feeling of reverence--it is clear that\nthis admission is fatal to Kant's theory. If desire or feeling as such\nis sensuous (or _pathological_, as Kant terms it), what right have we\nto make this one exception? And if we can make this one exception, why\nnot others? If it is possible in the case of reverence, why not in\nthe case, say, of patriotism, or of friendship, or of philanthropy,\nor of love--or even of curiosity, or of indignation, or of desire\nfor approbation? Kant's separation of reverence, as the one moral\nsentiment from all others as pathological, is wholly arbitrary. The\nonly distinction we can draw is of the feelings as they well up\nnaturally in reaction upon stimuli, sentiments not conceived and thus\nneither moral nor immoral, and sentiments as transformed by ends of\naction, in which case all without exception may be moral or immoral,\naccording to the character of the end. The Kantian separation is not\nonly arbitrary psychologically, but is false historically. So far is\nit from true that the only moral sentiment is reverence for law, that\nmen must have been moved toward action for centuries by motives of\nlove and hate and social regard, before they became capable of such\nan abstract feeling as reverence. And it may be questioned whether\nthis feeling, as Kant treats it, is even the highest or ultimate form\nof moral sentiment--whether it is not transitional to love, in which\nthere is complete union of the individual interest on one hand, and the\nobjective end on the other.\n\n     For these criticisms at greater length, see Caird, Critical\n     Philosophy of Kant, Vol. II, Bk. II, ch. IV.\n\nII. The Kantian end would not bring about any system in conduct--on\nthe contrary, it would tend to differences and collisions. What is\nrequired to give unity to the sphere of conduct is, as we have seen,\na principle which shall comprehend all the motives to action, giving\neach its due place in contributing to the whole--a universal which\nshall organize the various particular acts into a harmonious system.\nNow Kant's conception of the good does not lead to such result. We\nmay even say that it makes it impossible. According to Kant each act\nmust be considered independently of every other, and must be capable\nof generalization on its own account. Each motive of action must be\ncapable of being _itself_ a universal law of nature. Each particular\nrule of action is thus made absolute, and we are left not with one\nuniversal which comprehends all particulars in their relations to one\nanother, but literally with a lot of universals. These not only fail\nto have a unity, but each, as absolute, must contradict some other. If\nthe principles always to tell the truth and always to preserve life\nare universal _in themselves_, and not universal simply _through their\nrelation to some total and controlling principle of life_, it must be\nimpossible to reconcile them when they come into conflict.\n\n     See Caird, Op. cit., Vol. II, pp. 187-190, and p. 215.\n     _Cf._ \"Treated as universal and without exception, even\n     two such commands as _e. g._, 'Thou shalt not steal,' and\n     'Thou shalt not kill,' must ultimately come into conflict\n     with each other; for, if all other interests are to be\n     postponed to the maintenance of the rights of property,\n     it is impossible that all other interests should also be\n     postponed to the preservation of human life--and to make\n     either property or life an absolute end is to raise a\n     particular into a universal, to treat a part as if it were\n     a whole. But the true moral vindication of each particular\n     interest cannot be found in elevating it into something\n     universal and absolute, but only in determining its place\n     in relation to the others in a complete system of morality.\"\n\nIII. The principle is so empty of all content that it does not enable\nus to judge of any specific act.\n\n     A caution should be noticed here, which is equally\n     applicable to the criticism of hedonism: When it is said\n     that the end does not enable us to judge of specific\n     acts, the objection is not that the _theory_ (Kantianism\n     or hedonism, as the case may be) does not give us rules\n     for moral conduct. It is not the business of any theory,\n     however correct as a theory, to lay down rules for conduct.\n     The theory has simply to discover what the _end_ is, and it\n     is the end in view which determines specific acts. It is\n     no more the business of ethics to tell what in particular\n     a man ought to do, than it is of trigonometry to survey\n     land. But trigonometry must state the principles by which\n     land _is_ surveyed, and so ethics must state the end by\n     which conduct _is_ governed. The objection to hedonism and\n     Kantianism is that the end they give does not _itself_\n     stand in any practical relation to conduct. We do not\n     object to Kantianism because the _theory_ does not help us\n     as to specific acts, but because the _end_, formal law,\n     does not help us, while the real moral end must determine\n     the whole of conduct.\n\nSuppose a man thrown into the complex surroundings of life with an\nintelligence fully developed, but with no previous knowledge of right\nor wrong, or of the prevailing moral code. He is to know, however,\nthat goodness is to be found in the good will, and that the good will\nis the will moved by the mere idea of the universality of law. Can\nwe imagine such an one deriving from his knowledge any idea of what\nconcrete ends he ought to pursue and what to avoid? He is surrounded\nby special circumstances calling for special acts, and all he knows is\nthat _whatever_ he does is to be done from respect for its universal\nor legislative quality. What community is there between this principle\nand _what_ he is to do? There is no bridge from the mere thought of\nuniversal law to any concrete end coming under the law. There is no\ncommon principle out of which grows the conception of law on one hand,\nand of the various special ends of action, on the other.\n\nSuppose, however, that ends are independently suggested or proposed,\nwill the Kantian conception serve to _test_ their moral fitness? Will\nthe conception that the end must be capable of being generalized\ntell us whether this or that end is one to be followed? The fact\nis, that there is no end whatever that _in or by itself_, cannot be\nconsidered as self-identical, or as universal. If we presuppose a\ncertain rule, or if we presuppose a certain moral order, it may be\ntrue that a given motive cannot be universalized without coming into\nconflict with this presupposed rule or order. But aside from some\nmoral system into connection with which a proposed end may be brought,\nfor purposes of comparison, lying is just as capable as truth-telling\nof generalization. There is no more contradiction in the motive of\nuniversal stealing than there is in that of universal honesty--unless\nthere is as standard some order or system of things into which the\nproposed action is to fit as a member. And this makes not the bare\nuniversality of the act, but the system, the real criterion for\ndetermining the morality of the act.\n\n     Thus Mill remarks, regarding Kant's four illustrations\n     (_Ante_, p. 80), that Kant really has to employ utilitarian\n     considerations to decide whether the act is moral or not.\n\n     For the foregoing criticisms, see Bradley, Ethical Studies,\n     Essay IV; Caird, Op. cit., Vol. II, pp. 185-186, and\n     212-214, and, indeed, the whole of ch. II of Bk. II.\n\n\nXXX.\n\nCriticism of Kantian Criterion of Conduct.\n\n2. _With reference to the furnishing of a common good or end._ If\nthe Kantian end is so formal and empty as not to enable us to bring\ninto relation with one another the various acts of one individual, we\nmay agree, without argument, that it does not provide us with an end\nwhich shall unify the acts of different men into a connected order\nof conduct. The moral end, the acting from regard for law as law,\nis presented to each individual by himself, entirely apart from his\nrelations to others. That he has such relations may, indeed, furnish\nadditional material to which the law must be applied, but is something\nto which the character of the law is wholly indifferent. The end is not\nin itself a social end, and it is a mere accident if in any case social\nconsiderations have to be taken into account. It is of the very quality\nof the end that it appeals to the individual as an isolated individual.\n\n     It is interesting to note the way in which Kant, without\n     expressly giving up the purely formal character of the\n     moral end, gives it more and more content, and that content\n     social. The moral law is not imposed by any external\n     authority, but by the rational will itself. To be conscious\n     of a universal self-imposed law is to be conscious of\n     one's self as having a universal aspect. The source of\n     the law and its end are both in the will--in the rational\n     self. Thus man is an end to himself, for the rational self\n     is man. Such a being is a person--\"Rational beings are\n     _persons_, because their nature marks them out as ends\n     in themselves, _i. e._, as beings who should never be\n     used merely as means.... Such beings are not ends simply\n     _for us_, whose existence as brought about by our action\n     has value, but _objective ends_, _i. e._, beings whose\n     existence is an end in itself, an end for which no other\n     end can be substituted so as to reduce it to a mere means.\"\n     Thus, we get a second formula. \"Always treat humanity,\n     both in your own person and in the person of others, as an\n     end and never merely as a means.\" (Abbott's Trans., pp.\n     46-47; Caird, Op. cit., Vol. II, 219). Here the criterion\n     of action is no longer the bare self-consistency of its\n     motive, but its consistency with the rational nature of\n     the agent, that which constitutes him a person. And, too,\n     \"the will of every rational being is likewise a universally\n     law-giving will.\" (Abbott, p. 49). The conception of\n     humanity embodied in others as well as in one's self is\n     introduced, and thus our criterion is socialized. Even now,\n     however, we have a lot of persons, each of whom has to\n     be considered as an end in himself, rather than a social\n     unity as to which every individual has an equal and common\n     reference. Kant advances to this latter idea in his notion\n     of a \"Kingdom of ends.\" \"We get the idea of a complete and\n     systematically connected totality of all ends--a whole\n     system of rational beings as ends in themselves as well\n     as of the special ends which each of them may set up for\n     himself--_i.e._, a kingdom of ends.... Morality is the\n     reference of all deeds to the legislation which alone can\n     make such a kingdom possible.\" (See Abbott's Trans., pp.\n     51-52). This transformation of a mere formal universal into\n     a society or kingdom of persons--while not sufficiently\n     analyzed as Kant states it (see Caird, Vol. II, pp.\n     225-226)--gives us truly a social criterion, and we shall\n     hereafter meet something resembling it as the true ideal.\n     As finally stated, it does not differ in essential content\n     from Mill's individual who \"conceives of himself only as\n     a member of a body,\" or from Spencer's free man in a free\n     society.\n\n\nXXXI.\n\nValue of Kantian Theory.\n\nWe must not leave the Kantian theory with the impression that it is\nsimply the caprice of a philosopher's brain. In two respects, at least,\nit presents us, as we shall see, with elements that must be adopted;\nand even where false it is highly instructive.\n\nKant's fundamental error is in his conception that all desires or\ninclinations are for private pleasure, and are, therefore, to be\nexcluded from the conception of the moral end. Kant's conclusion,\naccordingly, that the good will is purely formal follows inevitably\nif ever it is granted that there is any intrinsic opposition between\ninclination as such, and reason or moral law as such. If there is such\nan opposition, _all_ desire must be excluded from relation to the\nend. We cannot make a compromise by distinguishing between higher and\nlower desires. On the contrary, if the end is to have content, it must\ninclude all desires, leaving out none as in itself base or unworthy.\nKant's great negative service was showing that the ascetic principle\nlogically results in pure formalism--meaning by ascetic principle that\nwhich disconnects inclinations from moral action.\n\nKant's positive service was, first, his clear insight into the fact\nthat the good is to be found only in activity; that the will itself,\nand nothing beyond itself, is the end; and that to adopt any other\ndoctrine, is to adopt an immoral principle, since it is to subordinate\nthe will (character, self and personality), to some outside end.\nHis second great service was in showing the necessity of putting in\nabeyance the immediate satisfaction of each desire as it happens to\narise, and of subordinating it to some law not to be found in the\nparticular desire. He showed that not the particular desire, but only\nthe desire as controlled by the idea of law could be the motive of\nmoral action. And if he fell into the error of holding that this meant\nthat the desire must be excluded from the moral motive, this error does\nnot make it less true that every particular desire must be controlled\nby a universal law. The truth of asceticism is that the desire must be\nchecked until subordinated to the activity of the whole man. See Caird,\nOp. cit., Vol. II, p. 200; pp. 203-207; 226-227.\n\n\nXXXII.\n\nThe Problem and Its Solution.\n\nIf we gather together the results of our observations of hedonism and\nof Kantianism we get something like the following problem and solution\nin outline. The end of action, or the good, is the realized will, the\ndeveloped or satisfied self. This satisfied self is found neither in\nthe getting of a lot of pleasures through the satisfaction of desires\njust as they happen to arise, nor in obedience to law simply because\nit is law. It is found in _satisfaction of desires according to law_.\nThis law, however, is not something external to the desires, but is\ntheir own law. Each desire is only one striving of character for larger\naction, and the only way in which it can really find satisfaction\n(that is, pass from inward striving into outward action) is _as_ a\nmanifestation of character. A desire, taken as a desire for its own\napparent or direct end _only_, is an abstraction. It is a desire for\nan entire and continuous activity, and its satisfaction requires that\nit fitted into this entire and continuous activity; that it be made\nconformable to the conditions which will bring the whole man into\naction. It is this fitting-in which is the law of the desire--the\n'universal' controlling its particular nature. This 'fitting-in' is no\nmechanical shearing off, nor stretching out, but a reconstruction of\nthe natural desire till it becomes an expression of the whole man. The\nproblem then is to find that special form of character, of self, which\nincludes and transforms all special desires. This form of character is\nat once the Good and the Law of man.\n\nWe cannot be content with the notion that the end is the satisfaction\nof the self, a satisfaction at once including and subordinating the\nends of the particular desire. This tells us nothing positive--however\nvaluable it may be negatively in warning us against one-sided\nnotions--until we know _what_ that whole self is, and _in what_\nconcretely its satisfaction consists. As the first step towards such a\nmore concrete formula, we may say:\n\n\nXXXIII.\n\nThe Moral End or the Good is the Realization by a Person and as a\nPerson of Individuality.\n\nIn saying that this realization is _by a person_ and _as a person_ we\nare saying nothing new. We are simply repeating what we have already\nlearned about moral conduct (Sec. III). Conduct is not that which\nsimply reaches certain consequences--a bullet shot from a rifle does\nthat; there is conduct only when the consequences are foreseen; made\nthe reason of action. A person is a being capable of conduct--a being\ncapable of proposing to himself ends and of attempting to realize them.\n\nBut what is the meaning of the rest of the formula? What do we mean by\nindividuality? We may distinguish two factors--or better two aspects,\ntwo sides--in individuality. On one side, it means special disposition,\ntemperament, gifts, bent, or inclination; on the other side, it means\nspecial station, situation, limitations, surroundings, opportunities,\netc. Or, let us say, it means _specific capacity_ and _specific\nenvironment_. Each of these elements, apart from the other, is a bare\nabstraction and without reality. Nor is it strictly correct to say that\nindividuality is constituted by these two factors _together_. It is\nrather, as intimated above, that each is individuality looked at from a\ncertain point of view, from within or from without.\n\nIf we are apt to identify individuality with the inner side alone, with\ncapacity apart from its surroundings, a little reflection will show\nthe error. Even the most devoted adherent of \"self-culture\" would not\nhold that a gift could be developed, or a disposition manifested, in\nisolation from all exterior circumstances. Let the disposition, the\ngift be what it may (amiable or irascible, a talent for music or for\nabstract science, or for engineering), its existence, to say nothing of\nits culture, apart from some surroundings is bare nonsense. If a person\nshuts himself up in a closet or goes out into the desert the better\nto cultivate his capacities, there is still the desert or the closet\nthere; and it is as conditioned by them, and with reference to them\nthat he must cultivate himself. For more is true than that, as a matter\nof fact, no man can wholly withdraw himself from surroundings; the\nimportant point is that the manner and the purpose of exercising his\ncapacity is always _relative_ to and _dependent_ upon the surroundings.\nApart from the environment the capacity is mere emptiness; the exercise\nof capacity is always establishing a relation to something exterior to\nitself. All we can say of capacity apart from environment is that _if_\ncertain circumstances were supplied, there would be something there. We\ncall a capacity _capability_, possibility, as if for the very purpose\nof emphasizing the necessity of external supplementing.\n\nWe get the same fact, on the other side, by calling to mind that\ncircumstances, environment are not indifferent or irrelevant to\nindividuality. The difference between one individual and another lies\nas much in the station in which each is placed as in the capacity\nof each. That is to say, environment enters into individuality as a\nconstituent factor, helping make it what it is.\n\nOn the other hand, it is capacity which makes the environment really an\nenvironment _to_ the individual.\n\nThe environment is not simply the facts which happen objectively to lie\nabout an agent; it is such part of the facts as may be _related_ to\nthe capacity and the disposition and gifts of the agent. Two members\nof the same family may have what, to the outward eye, are exactly\nthe same surroundings, and yet each may draw from these surroundings\nwholly unlike stimulus, material and motives. Each has a different\nenvironment, made different by his own mode of selection; by the\ndifferent way in which his interests and desires play upon the plastic\nmaterial about him. It is not, then, the environment as physical of\nwhich we are speaking, but as it appeals to consciousness, as it is\naffected by the make-up of the agent. This is the _practical_ or\n_moral_ environment. The environment is not, then, what is then and\nthere present in space. To the Christian martyr the sufferings of his\nmaster, and the rewards of faithfulness to come to himself were more\nreal parts of his environment than the stake and fire. A Darwin or a\nWallace may find his environment in South America or the Philippine\nIslands--or, indeed, in every fact of a certain sort wherever found\nupon the earth or in whatever geological era. A man of philanthropic\ninstincts may find _his_ environment among Indians or Congo negroes.\nWhatever, however near or remote in time and space, an individual's\ncapacities and needs relate him to, is his environment. The moment we\nrealize that only what one conceives as proper material for calling out\nand expressing some internal capacity is a part of his surroundings,\nwe see not only that capacity depends upon environment, but that\nenvironment depends upon capacity. In other words, we see that each in\nitself is an abstraction, and that the real thing is the individual who\nis constituted by capacity and environment in their relation to one\nanother.\n\n_Function_ is a term which we may use to express union of the two sides\nof individuality. The idea of function is that of an active relation\nestablished between power of doing, on one side, and something to\nbe done on the other. To exercise a function as a student is not to\ncultivate tastes and possibilities internally; it is also to meet\nexternal demands, the demands of fact, of teachers, of others needing\nknowledge. The citizen exercises his function not simply in cultivating\nsentiments of patriotism within; one has to meet the needs of the\ncity, the country in which one lives. The realization of an artistic\nfunction is not poring over emotions of beauty pumped up within one's\nself; it is the exercise of some calling. On the other hand, it hardly\nneeds saying that the function of a student, a citizen, an artist, is\nnot exercised in bare conformity to certain external requirements.\nWithout the inner disposition and inclination, we call conduct dead,\nperfunctory, hypocritical. An activity is not functional, unless it is\norganic, expressing the life of the agent.\n\nA function thus includes two sides--the external and the internal--and\nreduces them to elements in one activity. We get an analogy in\nany animal function. The digestive function includes the material\nappropriated, just as much as it does the organ appropriating. It is\nthe service, the work which the organ does _in_ appropriating material.\nSo, morally, function is capacity _in action_; environment transformed\ninto an element in personal service.\n\nThus we get another formula for the moral end:\n\nThe performance by a person of his specific function, this function\nconsisting in an activity which realizes wants and powers with\nreference to their peculiar surroundings.\n\n\nXXXIV.\n\nMoral Functions as Interests.\n\nIf morality consists in the exercise of one's _specific_ functions, it\nfollows that no _detailed_ account of the content of the moral end can\npossibly be given. This content is thoroughly individual or infinite.\nIt is concrete to the core, including every detail of conduct, and this\nnot in a rigid formula, but in the movement of life. All we can do is,\nby abstraction, to select some of the main features of the end, such as\nthe more common and the more permanent. While each individual has his\nown particular functions, which can no more be exhausted by definition\nor description than the qualities of any other individual object, it is\nalso true that we can recognize certain typical functions to be found\npermanently and in all. These make, as it were, the skeleton of the\nmoral end which each clothes with his own flesh and blood.\n\nFunctions are _interests_--objective interests were not the term\ntautological. Interests have three traits worth special mention.\n\n1. They are _active_. An interest is not an emotion produced from\nwithout. It is the reaction of the emotion to the object. Interest is\nidentified, in ordinary speech, with attention; we _take_ an interest,\nor, if we say simply 'interested,' that involves some excitation,\nsome action just beginning. We talk of a man's interests, meaning his\noccupations or range of activities.\n\n2. They are _objective_. The emotion aroused goes out to some object,\nand is fixed upon that; we are always interested _in something_. The\nactive element of interest is precisely that which takes it out of the\ninner mood itself and gives it a terminus, an end in an object.\n\n3. An interest is _satisfaction_. It is its own reward. It is not a\nstriving for something unrealized, or a mere condition of tension.\nIt is the satisfaction in some object which the mind already has.\nThis object may be possessed in some greater or less degree, in\nfull realization or in faint grasp, but interest attaches to it as\npossessed. This differentiates it from desire, even where otherwise\nthe states are the same. Desire refers to the lack, to what is not\npresent to the mind. One state of mind may be called both interest in,\nand desire for, knowledge, but desire emphasizes the unknown, while\ninterest is on account of the finding of self, of intelligence, in\nthe object. Interest is the union in feeling, through action, of self\nand an object. An interest in life is had when a man can practically\nidentify himself with some object lying beyond his immediate or already\nacquired self and thus be led to further expression of himself.\n\nTo have an interest, then, is to be alert, to have an object, and to\nfind satisfaction in an activity which brings this object home to self.\n\n     Not every interest carries with it _complete_ satisfaction.\n     But no interest can be wholly thwarted. The purer the\n     interest, the more the interest is in the object for its\n     own sake, and not for that of some ulterior consequence,\n     the more the interest fulfills itself. \"It is better to\n     have loved and lost than never to have loved at all\", and\n     love is simply the highest power of interest--interest\n     freed from all extrinsic stuff.\n\nOf the interests, two abstract forms may be recognized, interest in\npersons and interest in things. And these may be subdivided: Interest\nin persons: interest in _self_ and _others_. Interest in things--into\ntheir contemplation (_knowledge_) and into their production (_art_).\nAnd art again may be either productive of things to be contemplated\n(fine art), or useful--manufactures, industry, etc. The moral end,\nthen, or the Good will consist in the exercise of these interests,\nvaried as they may be in each individual by the special turn which his\ncapacities and opportunities take.\n\n\nXXXV.\n\nThe Exercise of Interests as the Moral End.\n\nLet us now, as a means of rendering our conception of the moral end\nmore concrete, consider briefly each of the forms of interest.\n\n1. Interest in self. We must free ourselves from any notion that an\ninterest in self is non-moral, if not actually immoral. The latter\nposition is seldom consciously assumed, but it is not uncommon to\nhave interest in self, under the name of prudence, marked off from\nthe moral sphere. Interest in self, if the interest is pure, is just\nas much an interest in the moral end as interest in anything or\nanybody else. Interest in self may take the form of selfishness, or of\nsentimentalism; but this is only an _impure_ interest, an interest not\nin self, but in some consequences to which the self may be directed.\nInterest in self may take many forms, according to the side of self\nwhich is the object of attention, and according to the range of the\nself taken into account. A _rudimentary_ form is prudence, but even\nthis, instead of being non-moral, is, in proper place and degree,\nmoral, as moral as benevolence; and, if not in its proper place,\nimmoral. From such an interest there are all stages up to the interest\nin self as it most deeply and broadly is, the sense of honor, moral\ndignity, self-respect, conscientiousness, that attempt to be and\nto make the most of one's self, which is at the very root of moral\nendeavor.\n\n     The ground that is usually given for making the distinction\n     between Prudence, Self-Regard, Self-Love as non-moral,\n     and Benevolence, Altruism etc., as moral, is that in the\n     former case a mere regard for one's own advantage dictates\n     proper conduct, while in the latter case there must be a\n     positive virtuous intent. We may, for example, be pointed\n     to some cool calculating man who takes care of his health\n     and his property, who indeed is generally 'prudent',\n     because he sees that it is for his advantage, and be told\n     that while such an end is not immoral it is certainly not\n     moral. But in return it must be asked what is meant here by\n     advantage? If by it is meant private pleasure, or advantage\n     over somebody else, then this conduct does not spring\n     from interest in self at all, but from interest in some\n     exterior consequence, and as springing from such an impure\n     interest is not simply non-moral, but positively immoral.\n     On the other hand, if 'advantage' means regard for one's\n     whole function, one's place in the moral order, then such\n     interest in self is moral. Care for bodily health in the\n     interest of efficiency in conduct is supremely moral beside\n     reckless disregard of it in the interest of some supposed\n     higher or more spiritual function.\n\n     If it is meant that conduct is immoral because it springs\n     from some interest on the part of the agent, the reply\n     is that all conduct must so arise, and that any other\n     supposition leads us immediately into asceticism and into\n     formalism.\n\n2. Interest in others. The generic form of interest in others is\nsympathy, this being specified by the various forms of social\norganization of which the individual is a member. A person is, we have\nseen, one who can conceive of ends and can act to realize these ends.\nOnly a person, therefore, can conceive of others as ends, and so have\ntrue sympathy.\n\n     It is not meant, of course, that animals do not\n     perform acts which, _de facto_, are altruistic or even\n     self-sacrificing. What is meant is that the animal does\n     not act from the _idea_ of others of his kind as ends in\n     themselves. If the animal does so act, it cannot be denied\n     the name of person.\n\nTrue interest in others is pure, or disinterested, in the sense of\nhaving no reference to some further and external consequence to one's\nself. Interest in others need not be moral (or pure) any more than\ninterest in self is necessarily immoral (or impure). It is a mistake\nto distinguish interest in self as _egoistic_ and interest in others\nas _altruistic_. Genuine interests, whatever their object, are both\negoistic and altruistic. They are egoistic simply because they _are\ninterests_--imply satisfaction in a realized end. If man is truly\na social being, constituted by his relationships to others, then\nsocial action must inevitably realize himself, and be, in that sense,\negoistic. And on the other hand, if the individual's interest in\nhimself is in himself _as_ a member of society, then such interest is\nthoroughly altruistic. In fact, the very idea of altruism is likely to\ncarry a false impression when it is so much insisted upon, as it is\nnowadays in popular literature, as the essence of morality. The term as\nused seems to imply that the mere giving up of one's self to others,\nas others, is somehow moral. Just as there may be an immoral interest\nin self, so there may be an immoral 'altruism.' It is immoral in any\ncase to sacrifice the actual relationships in the case, those which\ndemand action, to some feeling outside themselves--as immoral when the\nfeeling to which the sacrifice is offered up is labelled 'benevolence',\nas when it is termed 'greediness'. It is no excuse when a man gives\nunwisely to a beggar that he feels benevolent. _Moral_ benevolence is\nthe feeling directed toward a certain end which is known to be the\nfit or right end, the end which expresses the situation. The question\nis as to the _aim_ in giving. Apart from this aim, the act is simply\nrelieving the agent's own feelings and has no moral quality. Rather\nit is immoral; for feelings do have a moral _capacity_, that is, a\nrelation to ends of action, and hence to satisfy them on their account,\nto deprive them of their practical reference, is bad. Aside from what\nthis illustrates, there is a tendency in the present emphasis of\naltruism to erect the principle of charity, in a sense which implies\ncontinued social inequality, and social slavery, or undue dependence\nof one upon another, into a fundamental moral principle. It is well\nto \"do good\" to others, but it is much better to do this by securing\nfor them the freedom which makes it possible for them to get along in\nthe future without such 'altruism' from others. There is what has been\nwell termed an \"egotism of renunciation\"; a desire to do for others\nwhich, at bottom, is simply an attempt to regulate their conduct. Much\nof altruism is an egoism of a larger radius, and its tendency is to\n\"manufacture a gigantic self\", as in the case where a father sacrifices\neverything for his children or a wife for her husband.\n\n     See Caird, Op. cit., Vol. II, p. 402. See also Hinton, The\n     Law Breaker, p. 287: \"The real meaning of the difficulty\n     about a word for \"regard for others\" is that we do not want\n     it. It would mislead us if we had it. It is not a regard\n     for _others_ that we need, but simply a _true_ regard, a\n     regard to the facts, to nature; it is only a truth to facts\n     in our regard, and its nature is obscured by a reference to\n     \"others\", as if that were the essential point.... It is not\n     as being for others, but as being _true_, that the regard\n     for others is demanded.\"\n\nSome ethical writers have gone to the other extreme and held that all\nbenevolence is a disguised or an enlightened selfishness, since having\na necessary reference to self. The reference to self must be admitted;\nunless the action springs from an interest of the agent himself the act\nmay be outwardly useful, but cannot be moral. But the argument alluded\nto inverts the true relation involved. If a man's interests are such\nthat he can find satisfaction only in the satisfaction of others, what\nan absurdity to say that his acting from these interests is selfish!\nThe very fact of such identity of self with others in his interest is\nthe proof of his unselfishness.\n\n     See Leslie Stephen, Science of Ethics, p. 241, for an\n     admirable discussion of this difficulty. When it is said\n     that your pain is painful to me, he says, the inference\n     is often \"insinuated that I dislike your pain because\n     it is painful to me in some special relation. I do not\n     dislike it _as_ your pain, but in virtue of some particular\n     consequence, such, for example, as its making you less\n     able to render me a service. In that case _I do not really\n     object to your pain as your pain at all_, but only to some\n     removable and accidental consequences.\" (And see his whole\n     treatment of sympathy, pp. 230-245). The whole question is\n     shown to come to this: Is my interest in, my sympathy with,\n     your joy and sorrow as such, or in your joy and sorrow as\n     contributing to mine? If the latter, of course the interest\n     is selfish, not being an interest in others at all. But\n     if the former, then the fact that such sympathy involves\n     one's own satisfaction is the best proof that man is not\n     selfishly constructed. When Stephen goes on to say that\n     such sympathy does not involve the existence of a real\n     unity larger than the individual, he seems to me to misread\n     his own facts, probably because he conceives of this unity\n     as some abstract or external thing.\n\n     Discussion regarding self-love and benevolence, or, in\n     modern phrase, egoism and altruism, has been rife in\n     English ethics since the time of Hobbes, and especially of\n     Shaftesbury and Butler. See, in particular, the Sermons\n     of the latter, which gave the central point of discussion\n     for almost a century. With reference to the special\n     weakness of this point of view, with its co-ordination\n     of two independent principles, see Green, Philosophical\n     Works, Vol. III, pp. 99-104. The essential lack (the lack\n     which we have tried to make good in the definition of\n     individuality as the union of capacity and surroundings\n     in function), was the failure to analyze the idea of the\n     individual. Individuality being defined as an exclusive\n     principle, the inevitable result was either (i.) the\n     \"disguised selfishness\" theory; or (ii.) the assumption of\n     two fundamentally different principles in man. The ordinary\n     distinction between prudence and virtue is an echo of the\n     latter theory. Then, finally, (iii.) a third principle,\n     generally called conscience by Butler, was brought in as\n     umpire in the conflict of prudence and virtue.\n\n     Suggestive modern treatment of the matter, from a variety\n     of points of view, will be found in Spencer, Data of\n     Ethics, chs. XI-XIII; Stephen, Op. cit., ch. VI; Sidgwick,\n     Op. cit., Bk. V, ch. VII; Royce, Op. cit., ch. IV; Sorley,\n     Ethics of Naturalism, pp. 134-150; Alexander, Op. cit., pp.\n     172-180; Caird, Op. cit., Vol. II, pp. 400-405; Paulsen,\n     System der Ethik, pp. 295-311.\n\n3. Interest in Science and Art. Man is interested in the world about\nhim; the knowledge of the nature and relations of this world become one\nof his most absorbing pursuits. Man identifies himself with the meaning\nof this world to the point that he can be satisfied only as he spells\nout and reads its meaning. (See, for example, Browning's \"Grammarian's\nFuneral\".) The scientific interest is no less a controlling motive\nof man than the personal interest. This knowledge is not a means for\nhaving agreeable sensations; it is not dilettanteism or \"love of\nculture\"; it is interest in the large and goodly frame of things. And\nso it is with art; man has interests which can be satisfied only in the\nreconstruction of nature in the way of the useful and the beautiful.\n\n     I have made no distinction between 'fine' and 'useful' art.\n     The discussion of this question does not belong here, but\n     the rigid separation of them in \u00e6sthetic theory seems to me\n     to have no justification. Both are products of intelligence\n     in the service of interests, and the only difference is in\n     the range of intelligence and interests concerned. 'Use'\n     is a _limited_ service and hence implies an external end;\n     beauty is complete use or service, and hence not mere use\n     at all, but self-expression. Historically, all art which\n     has not been merely sentimental and 'literary' has sprung\n     from interest in good workmanship in the realizing of an\n     idea.\n\nIt seems as if here interests violated their general law, and, in the\ncase of use at least, were an interest in some ulterior end. But it\nmay be questioned whether a carpenter whose aim was consciously beyond\nthe work he was doing, would be a good workman--and this whether the\nfurther end is his own private advantage, or social benefit at large.\nThe thought of the further benefit to self and of the utility to accrue\nto some one else, will, if it becomes a _part_ of what he is doing,\nundoubtedly intensify his interest--it must do so, for it enlarges\nits content. But to _identify_ one's own or another's well-being with\nwork, and to make the work a mere _means_ to this welfare, are two\nquite different things. The good artisan \"has his heart in his work\".\nHis self-respect makes it necessary for him to respect this technical\nor artistic capacity, and to do the best by it that he can without\nscrimping or lowering. To a good business man business is not the mere\nmeans to money-making; and it is sentimentalism (and hence immoral) to\ndemand that it be a mere means to the good of society. The business, if\nit is a moral one (and _any_ business, _so far_ as it is thus carried\non, is moral), is carried on for the sake of the activity itself, as a\nrealizing of capacity in a specific situation.\n\n\nXXXVI.\n\nThe Moral Quality of Science.\n\nWe seem, however, to meet here, in relation to science and art, a\ndifficulty which threatens our whole theory. Can it be claimed, it may\nbe asked, that devotion to science or art constitutes goodness in the\nsame sense that devotion to the interests of one's family or state\nconstitutes it? No one doubts that a good father or a good citizen is a\ngood man, in so far forth. Are we ready to say that a good chemist or\ngood carpenter, or good musician is, in so far, a good man? In a word,\nis there not a reference to the good of persons present in one case and\nabsent in another, and does not its absence preclude the scientific and\nartistic activities from any share, _as such_, in the moral end?\n\nIt must be remembered that the moral end does not refer to some\nconsequence which happens, _de facto_, to be reached. It refers to an\nend _willed_; _i.e._, to an idea held to and realized as an idea. And\nthis fact shows us the way to meet the query, in part at least. If,\nwhen we say good carpenter, or good merchant, we are speaking from the\nstandpoint of results, independently of the idea conceived as end in\nthe mind of the agent; if we mean simply, 'we like what that man does',\nthen the term good has no moral value. A man may paint 'good' pictures\nand not be, in so far, a good man, but in this sense a man may _do_ a\ngreat deal of 'good', and yet not be a good man. It was agreed at the\noutset that moral goodness pertains to the kind of idea or end which a\nman clings to, and not to what he happens to effect visibly to others.\n\nIf a scientific man pursues truth as a mere means to reputation, to\nwealth, etc., we do not (or should not) hesitate to call him immoral.\n\n     This does not mean that if he _thinks_ of the reputation,\n     or of wealth, he is immoral, for he may foresee wealth and\n     the reputation as necessarily bound up in what he is doing;\n     it may become a part of the end. It means that if knowledge\n     of truth is a _mere means_ to an end beyond it, the man is\n     immoral.\n\nWhat reason is there why we should not call him moral if he does his\nwork for its own sake, from interest in this cause which takes him\noutside his \"own miserable individuality\", in Mill's phrase? After all,\nthe phrase a 'good father' means but a character manifesting itself in\ncertain relations, as is right according to these relations; the phrase\nhas moral significance not in itself, but with reference to the end\naimed at by character. And so it is with the phrase 'a good carpenter.'\nThat also means devotion of character to certain outer relations for\ntheir own sake. These relations may not be so important, but that is\nnot lack of moral meaning.\n\n\nXXXVII.\n\nAdjustment to Environment.\n\nSo far we have been discussing the moral ideal in terms of its inner\nside--capacity, interest. We shall now discuss it on its outer or\nobjective side--as 'adjustment to environment' in the phrase made\nfamiliar by the evolutionists. Certain cautions, however, must be noted\nin the use of the phrase. We must keep clearly in mind the relativity\nof environment to inner capacity; that it exists only as one element of\nfunction. Even a plant must do something more than adjust itself _to_\na fixed environment; it must assert itself _against_ its surroundings,\nsubordinating them and transforming them into material and nutriment;\nand, on the surface of things, it is evident that _transformation_ of\nexisting circumstances is moral duty rather than mere reproduction of\nthem. The environment must be plastic to the ends of the agent.\n\nBut admitting that environment is made what it is by the powers\nand aims of the agent, what sense shall we attribute to the term\nadjustment? Not bare conformity to circumstances, nor bare external\nreproduction of them, even when circumstances are taken in their proper\nmoral meaning. The child in the family who simply adjusts himself _to_\nhis relationships in the family, may be living a moral life only in\noutward seeming. The citizen of the state may transgress no laws of\nthe state, he may punctiliously fulfill every contract, and yet be a\nselfish man. True adjustment must consist in _willing_ the maintenance\nand development of moral surroundings as _one's own end_. The child\nmust take the spirit of the family into himself and live out this\nspirit according to his special membership in the family. So a soldier\nin the army, a friend in a mutual association, etc. Adjustment to\nintellectual environment is not mere conformity of ideas to facts. It\nis the living assimilation of these facts into one's own intellectual\nlife, and maintaining and asserting them as _truth_.\n\nThere are environments existing prior to the activities of any\nindividual agent; the family, for example, is prior to the moral\nactivity of a child born into it, but the point is to see that\n'adjustment', to have a moral sense, means _making the environment a\nreality for one's self_. A true description of the case would say that\nthe child takes for his own end, ends already existing for the wills\nof others. And, in making them his own, he creates and supports for\nhimself an environment that already exists for others. In such cases\nthere is no special transformation of the existing environment; there\nis simply the process of making it the environment for one's self. So\nin learning, the child simply appropriates to himself the intellectual\nenvironment already in existence for others. But in the activity of\nthe man of science there is more than such personal reproduction and\ncreation; there is increase, or even reconstruction of the prior\nenvironment. While the ordinary citizen hardly does more than make his\nown the environment of ends and interests already sustained in the\nwills of others, the moral reformer may remake the whole. But whether\none case or the other, adjustment is not outer conformity; it is living\nrealization of certain relations in and through the will of the agent.\n\n\nXXXVIII.\n\nThe Moral End is the Realization of a Community of Wills.\n\nSince the performance of function is, on the other side, the creation,\nperpetuation, and further development of an environment, of relations\nto the wills of others, its performance _is a common good_. It\nsatisfies others who participate in the environment. The member of the\nfamily, of the state, etc., in exercising his function, contributes to\nthe whole of which he is a member by realizing its spirit in himself.\nBut the question discussed in section XXXVI recurs under another\naspect. Granting that the satisfying of personal interests realizes a\ncommon good, what shall we say of the impersonal interests--interests\nin science and art. Is the good carpenter or chemist not only in so\nfar a good man, but also a good social member? In other words, does\nevery form of moral activity realize a common good, or is the moral end\npartly social, partly non-social?\n\n     One objection sometimes brought to the doctrine that the\n     moral end is entirely social, may be now briefly dismissed.\n     This is the objection that a man has moral duties toward\n     _himself_. Certainly, but what of _himself_? If he is\n     essentially a social member, his duties toward himself have\n     a social basis and bearing. The only relevant question is\n     whether one is wholly a social member--whether scientific\n     and artistic activities may not be non-social.\n\nThe ground here taken is that the moral end is wholly social. This\ndoes not mean that science and art are means to some social welfare\nbeyond themselves. We have already stated that even the production of\nutilities must, as moral, be its own end. The position then is that\nintellectual and artistic interests _are themselves_ social, when\nconsidered in the completeness of their relations--that interest in\nthe development of intelligence is, in and of itself, interest in the\nwell-being of society.\n\nUnless this be true there is no moral end at all, but only moral\nends. There is no comprehensive unity in life, but a number of ends\nwhich, being irreducible to a common principle, must be combined on the\nbest principle of compromise available. We have no 'The Good', but an\naggregate of fragmentary ends.\n\n     It helps nothing to say that this necessary unity is\n     found in the _self_ to be realized, unless we are pointed\n     to something in the self that unites the social and\n     non-social functions. Our objection is that the separation\n     of intellectual interests from social makes a chasm in the\n     self.\n\nFor the same reason it follows that in the case of a collision of\nsocial with intellectual ends--say the conflict of a man's interests as\na member of a family with his interests in new scientific discovery--no\nreconciliation is possible. If the interests are forms of social\ninterest, there is a common end in both, on the basis of which the\nconflict can be resolved. While such considerations do not prove that\nthere is but one end, and that social, they may well make us hesitate\nabout carelessly taking a position of which they are the logical\nconsequence.\n\nOf course, every one recognizes that a certain amount of scientific and\nartistic interest is social in character. A certain amount of interest\nin truth, or in intelligence, a certain amount of susceptibility to\nbeauty, a certain amount of devotion to utility, are universally\nrecognized to be necessary to make judicious, agreeable and efficient\nsocial members. The whole system of modern education has meaning only\non this supposition.\n\nMore than this: A certain amount of intelligence, and a certain amount\nof susceptibility to embodied ideals, _must_ exist to give moral\nconduct. A moral end is, as we have seen, always a _conception_, an\nidea. The very act of bringing conduct out of the impulsive into the\nmoral sphere, depends upon the development of intelligence so as to\ntransform a feeling into the perception of a situation. And, as we\nwatch moral development from childhood to maturity, is it not evident\nthat progress consists in power to conceive of larger and better\ndefined ends? to analyze the situation which demands active response,\nthe function which needs exercise, into specific relations, instead of\ntaking it partially or even upon some one else's say so? Conduct, so\nfar as not based upon an intelligent recognition and realization of the\nrelationships involved, is either sentimental, or _merely_ habitual--in\nthe former case immoral, and in the latter failing of the complete\nmorality possible.\n\nIf the necessary part played in conduct by artistic cultivation is not\nso plain, it is largely because 'Art' has been made such an unreal\nFetich--a sort of superfine and extraneous polish to be acquired only\nby specially cultivated people. In reality, living is itself the\nsupreme art; it requires fineness of touch; skill and thoroughness\nof workmanship; susceptible response and delicate adjustment to a\nsituation apart from reflective analysis; instinctive perception of\nthe proper harmonies of act and act, of man and man. Active art is the\nembodiment of ideals; the clothing of ideas otherwise abstract in their\npeculiar and fit garb of concrete outward detail; passive art is the\nquick and accurate response to such embodiments as are already made.\nWhat were human conduct without the one and the other?\n\nGranting the necessity of knowledge and of its artistic application\nin conduct, the question arises as to where the line is to be drawn.\nEvidently, if anywhere, at specialisms, remote philosophic or\nmathematical endeavors; life-times spent in inventive attempts without\nappreciable outcome. But to draw the line is not easy. The remote of\none generation is the social tool of the next; the abstract mathematics\nand physics of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries are the great\nsocial forces of the nineteenth--the locomotive, the telegraph,\nthe telephone, etc. And how, in any case, can we tell a scientific\ninvestigator that up to a certain experiment or calculation his work\nmay be social, beyond that, not? All that we can say is that beyond a\ncertain point its social character is not obvious to sense and that\nthe work must be carried on by faith.\n\nThus it is that we dispose of objections like Bradley's (Ethical\nStudies, p. 202): \"Nothing is easier than to suppose a life of art or\nspeculation which, as far as we can see, though true to itself, has, so\nfar as others are concerned, been sheer waste or even loss, and which\nknew that it was so.\" That we can not _see_ any social _result_ in such\ncases has nothing to do with the question whether or not the interests\nthemselves are social. We may imagine a life of philanthropic activity,\nsay of devotion to emancipation of slaves in a country wholly given\nover to slavery, or of a teacher in an unenlightened country, which,\nas far as we can see, (though, in this case, as in the one referred\nto by Mr. Bradley, everything depends upon how far we _can_ see) has\nbeen sheer waste, so far as influence on others is concerned. The point\nis whether in such cases the life lived is not one of devotion to the\ninterests of humanity as such.\n\n     We have been trying to show that everyone admits that\n     science and art, up to a certain point, are social, and\n     that to draw a line where they cease to be so, is in\n     reality to draw a line where we cease to _see_ their social\n     character. That we should cease to _see_ it, is necessary\n     in the case of almost every advance. Just because the new\n     scientific movement is new, we can realize its social\n     effects only afterwards. But it may be questioned whether\n     the motive which actuates the man of science is not, when\n     fully realized, a _faith_ in the social bearing of what he\n     is doing. If we were to go into a metaphysical analysis,\n     the question would have to be raised whether a barely\n     intellectual fact or theory be not a pure abstraction--an\n     unreality if kept apart entirely from the activities of men\n     in relation to one another.\n\n\nXXXIX.\n\nScience and Art as Necessary Factors of Social Welfare.\n\nLet us consider the problem on its other side. What kind of an interest\nis our interest in persons, our distinctively social interest? Suppose\nwe attempt to separate our interests in truth, beauty, and use from\nour interest in persons: _What remains in the persons to be interested\nin?_ Is not a necessary part of out interest in persons, an interest in\nthem as beings fulfilling their respective intellectual and artistic\ncapacities; and if we cut this out of our social interest, have we\nnot maimed and stunted our interest in persons? We wish the fullest\nlife possible to ourselves and to others. And the fullest life means\nlargely a complete and free development of capacities in knowledge\nand production--production of beauty and use. Our interest in others\nis not satisfied as long as their intelligence is cramped, their\nappreciation of truth feeble, their emotions hard and uncomprehensive,\ntheir powers of production compressed. To will their true good is to\nwill the freeing of all such gifts to the highest degree. Shall we\nsay that their true good requires that they shall go to the point of\nunderstanding algebra, but not quaternions, of understanding ordinary\nmechanics, but not to working out an electro-magnetic theory of light?\nto ability to appreciate ordinary chords and tunes, but not to the\nattempt to make further developments in music?\n\nAnd this throws light upon the case referred to by Mr. Bradley.\n_Social_ welfare demands that the individual be permitted to devote\nhimself to the fulfilling of _any_ scientific or artistic capacity that\nhe finds within himself--provided, of course, it does not conflict\nwith some more important capacity--irrespective of results. To say to\na man: You may devote yourself to this gift, provided you demonstrate\nbeforehand its social bearing, would be to talk nonsense. The new\ndiscovery is not yet made. It is absolutely required by the interests\nof a progressive society that it allow freedom to the individual to\ndevelop such functions as he finds in himself, irrespective of any\n_proved_ social effect. Here, as elsewhere, morality works by faith,\nnot by sight.\n\nIndeed the ordinary conception of social interests, of benevolence,\nneeds a large over-hauling. It is practically equivalent to doing\nsomething directly for others--to one form or another of charity.\nBut this is only negative morality. A true social interest is that\nwhich wills for others freedom from dependence on our _direct_ help,\nwhich wills to them the self-directed power of exercising, in and by\nthemselves, their own functions. Any will short of this is not social\nbut selfish, willing the dependence of others that we may continue\nbenignly altruistic. The idea of \"giving pleasure\" to others, \"making\nothers happy\", if it means anything else than securing conditions so\nthat they may act freely in their own satisfaction, means slavery.\n\nAs society advances, social interest must consist more and more in\nfree devotion to intelligence for its own sake, to science, art and\nindustry, and in rejoicing in the exercise of such freedom by others.\nMeantime, it is truth which makes free.\n\n     See Spencer, Data of Ethics, pp. 249-257, where this\n     doctrine is stated with great force.\n\nWhere, finally, does the social character of science and art come\nin? Just here: they are elements in the perfection of individuality,\nand they are elements whose very nature is to be moving, not rigid;\ndistributed from one to another and not monopolistic possessions. If\nthere are forms of science and art which, at present, are static, being\nmerely owned collections of facts, as one may have a collection of\nbutterflies in a frame, or of etchings in a closed portfolio, this is\nnot because they are science and art, but imperfect science and art.\nTo complete their scientific and artistic character is to set these\nfacts in motion; to hurl them against the world of physical forces\ntill new instruments of man's activity are formed, and to set them in\ncirculation so that others may also participate in their truth and\nrejoice in their beauty. So far as scientific or artistic attainments\nare treasured as individual possessions, so far it _is_ true that\nthey are not social--but so far it is _also_ true that they are\nimmoral: indeed that they are not fully scientific or artistic, being\nsubordinated to having certain sensations.\n\nThe intellectual movement of the last four or five centuries has\nresulted in an infinite specialization in methods, and in an immense\naccumulation of fact. It is quite true, since the diversity of fact\nand of method has not yet been brought to an organic unity, that their\nsocial bearing is not yet realized. But when the unity is attained (as\nattained it must be if there is unity in the object of knowledge), it\nwill pass into a corresponding unity of practice. And then the question\nas to the social character of even the most specialized knowledge will\nseem absurd. It will be to ask whether men can co\u00f6perate better when\nthey do not know than when they do know what they want. Meantime the\nintellectual confusion, and the resulting divorce of knowledge from\npractice, exists. But this constitutes a part of the environment of\nwhich action must take heed. It makes it one of the pressing duties\nthat every man of intelligence should do his part in bringing out the\npublic and common aspects of knowledge. _The_ duty of the present is\nthe socializing of intelligence--the realizing of its bearing upon\nsocial practice.\n\n\nXL.\n\nThe Ethical Postulate.\n\nWe have attempted to show that the various interests are social in\ntheir very nature. We have not attempted to show that this can be\nseen or proved in any given case. On the contrary, in most, if not\nall cases, the agent acts from a faith that, in realizing his own\ncapacity, he will satisfy the needs of society. If he were asked to\n_prove_ that his devotion to his function were right because certain to\npromote social good, he might well reply: \"That is none of my affair.\nI have only to work myself out as strength and opportunity are given\nme, and let the results take care of themselves. I did not make the\nworld, and if it turns out that devotion to the capacity which was\ngiven me, and loyalty to the surroundings in which I find myself do\nnot result in good, I do not hold myself responsible. But, after all,\nI cannot believe that it will so turn out. What is really good for me\n_must_ turn out good for all, or else there is no good in the world\nat all.\" The basis, in a word, of moral conduct, with respect to the\nexercise of function, is a faith that moral self-satisfaction (that\nis, satisfaction in accordance with the performance of function as\nalready defined) means social satisfaction--or the faith that self and\nothers make a true community. Now such faith or conviction is at the\nbasis of all moral conduct--not simply of the scientific or artistic.\nInterest in self must mean belief in one's business, conviction of its\nlegitimacy and worth, even prior to any sensible demonstration. Under\nany circumstances, such demonstration can extend only to past action;\nthe social efficiency of any new end must be a matter of faith. Where\nsuch faith is wanting, action becomes halting and character weak.\nForcible action fails, and its place is taken by a feeble idealism, of\nvague longing for that which is not, or by a pessimistic and fruitless\ndiscontent with things as they are--leading, in either case, to\nneglect of actual and pressing duty. The basis of moral strength is\n_limitation_, the resolve to be one's self only, and to be loyal to the\nactual powers and surroundings of that self. The saying of Carlyle's\nabout doing the \"duty that lies nearest\", and of Goethe's that \"America\nis here or nowhere\", both imply that faith in the existing moral\ncapacity and environment is the basis of conduct. All fruitful and\nsound human endeavor roots in the conviction that there is something\nabsolutely worth while, something 'divine' in the demands imposed by\none's actual situation and powers. In the great moral heroes of the\nworld the conviction of the worth of their destiny, and of what they\nwere meant to do, has amounted to a kind of fatalism. They have done\nnot simply what they _could_ do, but what they _must_ do.\n\nOn the other hand, effective social interest is based upon what is\nvaguely called 'faith in humanity', or, more specifically, belief\nin the value of each man's individuality, belief in some particular\nfunction which he might exercise, given appropriate conditions and\nstimuli. Moral interest in others must be an interest in their\npossibilities, rather than in their accomplishments; or, better, in\ntheir accomplishments so far as these testify to a fulfilling of\nfunction--to a working out of capacity. Sympathy and work for men which\ndo not grow out of faith in them are a perfunctory and unfertile sort\nof thing.\n\nThis faith is generally analyzed no further; it is left as faith in\none's 'calling' or in 'humanity'. But what is meant is just this:\nin the performing of such special service as each is capable of,\nthere is to be found not only the satisfaction of self, but also\nthe satisfaction of the entire moral order, the furthering of the\ncommunity in which one lives. All moral conduct is based upon such a\nfaith; and _moral theory must recognize this as the postulate upon\nwhich it rests_. In calling it a postulate, we do not mean that it is a\npostulate which our theory makes or must make in order to be a theory;\nbut that, through analysis, theory _finds that moral practice makes\nthis postulate_, and that with its reality the reality end value of\nconduct are bound up.\n\nIn calling it a postulate we do not mean to call it unprovable, much\nless unverifiable, for moral experience is itself, so far as it goes,\nits verification. But we mean that the further consideration of this\npostulate, its demonstration or (if the case so be) its refutation,\ndo not belong to the realm of ethics as such. Each branch of human\nexperience rests upon some presupposition which, _for that branch_, is\nultimate. The further inquiry into such presuppositions belong not to\nmathematics, or physics, or ethics, but to metaphysics.\n\nUnless, then, we are to extend our ethical theory to inquire into the\npossibility and value of moral experience, unless, that is, we are to\nmake an excursion into the metaphysics of ethics, we have here reached\nour foundation. The ethical postulate, the presupposition involved in\nconduct, is this:\n\nIN THE REALIZATION OF INDIVIDUALITY THERE IS FOUND ALSO THE NEEDED\nREALIZATION OF SOME COMMUNITY OF PERSONS OF WHICH THE INDIVIDUAL IS A\nMEMBER; AND, CONVERSELY, THE AGENT WHO DULY SATISFIES THE COMMUNITY IN\nWHICH HE SHARES, BY THAT SAME CONDUCT SATISFIES HIMSELF.\n\nOtherwise put, the postulate is that there is a community of persons; a\ngood which realized by the will of one is made not private but public.\nIt is this unity of individuals as respects the end of action, this\nexistence of a practical common good, that makes what we call the moral\norder of the world.\n\n     Shakespeare has stated the postulate--\n\n                        To thine ownself be true;\n        And it must follow, as the night the day,\n        Thou can'st not then be false to any man.\n\nIts significance may be further developed by comparing it with the\nscientific postulate.\n\nAll science rests upon the conviction of the thorough-going and\npermanent unity of the world of objects known--a unity which is\nsometimes termed the 'uniformity of nature' or the 'reign of law';\nwithout this conviction that objects are not mere isolated and\ntransitory appearances, but are connected together in a system by laws\nor relations, science would be an impossibility. Moral experience\n_makes for the world of practice_ an assumption analogous in kind to\nthat which intellectual experience makes for the world of knowledge.\nAnd just as it is not the affair of science, as such, or even of logic\n(the theory of science) to justify this presupposition of science, or\nto do more than show its presence in intellectual experience, so it is\nnot the business of conduct, or even of ethics (the theory of conduct)\nto justify what we have termed the 'ethical postulate'. In each case\nthe further inquiry belongs to metaphysics.\n\n\nXLI.\n\nDoes the End Proposed Serve as a Criterion of Conduct?\n\nWe have now concluded that an end which may be termed indifferently\n'The Realization of Individuality', 'The Performance of Specific\nFunctions', 'The Satisfaction of Interests', 'The Realization of a\nCommunity of Individuals' is the moral end. Will this end serve the\ntwo aims (see Sec. XVI) required of a criterion, or standard: (1) Will\nit unify individual conduct? (2) Will it afford a common good? We have\njust been endeavoring to show that it does both of these things; that\nas the realization of one's specific capacity, it unifies individual\nconduct, and that, as the performance of function, it serves to satisfy\nthe entire community. To take up just these points, accordingly, would\ninvolve a repetition of what has been said, and we shall therefore take\nup instead some aspects of the individual and social unity of conduct,\nnot already considered.\n\n1. The System of Individual Conduct. We must be careful not to\ninterpret the idea of specific function too rigidly or abstractly. It\ndoes not mean that each one has some supreme mission in life to which\neverything else must be sacrificed--that a man is to be an artist,\nor a soldier, or a student, or a day-laborer and nothing else. On\nthe contrary, the idea of function is that which comprehends all the\nvarious sides of life, and it cannot be narrowed below the meaning we\nhave already given: the due adjustment of capacity and surroundings.\nWherever there is any capacity or any circumstance, no matter how\ntrivial, there is something included in the exercise of function,\nand, therefore to be satisfied--according to its place, of course,\nin the whole of life. Amusements and all the minor details of life\nare included within the scope of morality. They are elements in the\nexercise of function, and their insignificance and triviality does not\nexclude them from the grasp of duty and of the good. It is a mistake to\nsuppose that because it is optional or indifferent--as it constantly\nis--what acts among the minor details of life are to be done or left\nundone, or unimportant whether they are done or left undone at all,\ntherefore such acts have no moral value. Morality consists in treating\nthem just as they are--if they are slight or trivial they are to be\nperformed as slight and trivial. Morality does not simply permit the\nperformance of such acts, but demands it. To try to make, in the\ninterests of duty, a serious matter out of every detail of life would\nbe immoral--as much so, in kind, as to make light of momentous matters.\n\n     See Alexander, Op. cit. pp. 53-54.\n\n     Bradley, Op. cit., pp, 194-197.\n\nConsider, also, how this conception of the end stands in definite\nrelation to concrete acts; how it explains the possibility of decision\nas to whether this or that proposed act is right. We do not have to\ntrace the connection of the act with some end beyond, as pleasure, or\nabstract law. We have only to analyze the _act itself_. We have certain\ndefinite and wholly concrete facts; the given capacity of the person at\nthe given moment, and his given surroundings. The judgment as to the\nnature of these facts is, in and of itself, a judgment as to the act\nto be done. The question is not: What is the probability that this act\nwill result in the balance of maximum pleasure; it is not what general\nrule can we hunt up under which to bring this case. It is simply:\n_What is this case?_ The moral act is not that which satisfies some\nfar-away principle, hedonistic or transcendental. It is that which\nmeets the present, actual situation. Difficulties indeed, arise, but\nthey are simply the difficulty of resolving a complex case; they are\nintellectual, not moral. The case made out, the moral end stands forth.\nNo extraneous manipulation, to bring the case under some foreign end,\nis required.\n\nAnd this suggests the elasticity of the criterion. In fact moral\nconduct is entirely individualized. It is where, when, how and of whom.\nThere has been much useless discussion as to the absolute or relative\ncharacter of morals--useless because the terms absolute and relative\nare not defined. If absolute is taken to mean immobile and rigid, it is\nanything but desirable that morals should be absolute. If the physical\nworld is a scene of movement, in which there is no rest, it is a poor\ncompliment to pay the moral world to conceive of it as static and\nlifeless. A rigid criterion in a world of developing social relations\nwould speedily prove no criterion at all. It would be an abstract\nrule, taking no account of the individualized character of each act;\nits individuality of capacity and of surroundings, of time, place and\nrelationships involved. A truly absolute criterion is one which adjusts\nitself to each case according to the specific nature of the case; one\nwhich moves with the moving world. On the other hand, if relative means\nuncertain in application, changing in time and place without reason for\nchange in the facts themselves, then certainly the criterion is not\nrelative. If it means taking note of all concrete relations involved,\nit _is_ relative. The absoluteness, in fine, of the standard of action\nconsists not in some rigid statement, but in never-failing application.\nUniversality here, as elsewhere, resides not in a thing, but in a way,\na method of action. The absolute standard is the one applicable to all\ndeeds, and the conception of the exercise of function is thus absolute,\ncovering all conduct from the mainly impulsive action of the savage to\nthe most complex reaches of modern life.\n\n     Aristotle's well known theory of the 'mean' seems to have\n     its bearing here. \"It is possible,\" he says (Peters' trans.\n     of Ethics, p. 46), \"to feel fear, confidence, desire,\n     anger, pity, and generally to be affected pleasantly\n     and painfully, either too much or too little--in either\n     case wrongfully; but to be affected thus at the right\n     _times_, and on the right _occasions_, and toward the\n     right _persons_, and with the right _object_ and in the\n     right _fashions_, is the mean course and the best course,\n     and these are characteristics of virtue.\" The right time,\n     occasion, person, purpose and fashion--what is it but the\n     complete individualization of conduct in order to meet\n     the whole demands of the whole situation, instead of some\n     abstraction? And what else do we mean by fit, due, proper,\n     right action, but that which just hits the mark, without\n     falling short or deflecting, and, to mix the metaphor,\n     without slopping over?\n\n2. The system of social conduct, or common good. Moral conduct springs\nfrom the faith that all right action is social and its purpose is\nto justify this faith by working out the social values involved. The\nterm 'moral community' can mean only a unity of action, made what it\nis by the co-operating activities of diverse individuals. There is\nunity in the work of a factory, not in spite of, but _because of_ the\ndivision of labor. Each workman forms the unity not by doing the same\nthat everybody else does, or by trying to do the whole, but by doing\nhis specific part. The unity is the one activity which their varied\nactivities make. And so it is with the moral activity of society and\nthe activities of individuals. The more individualized the functions,\nthe more perfect the unity. (See section LII.)\n\nThe exercise of function by an agent serves, then, both to define and\nto unite him. It makes him a _distinct_ social member at the same time\nthat it makes him a _member_. Possession of peculiar capacities, and\nspecial surroundings mark one person off from another and make him\nan individual; and the due adjustment of capacities to surroundings\n(in the exercise of function) effects, therefore, the realization of\nindividuality--the realization of what we specifically are as distinct\nfrom others. At the same time, this distinction is not isolation;\nthe exercise of function is the performing of a special _service_\nwithout which the social whole is defective. Individuality means\nnot separation, but defined position in a whole; special aptitude in\nconstituting the whole.\n\nWe are now in a position to take up the consideration of the two other\nfundamental ethical conceptions--obligation and freedom. These ideas\nanswer respectively to the two sides of the exercise of function. On\nthe one hand, the performing of a function realizes the social whole.\nMan is thus 'bound' by the relations necessary to constitute this\nwhole. He is subject to the conditions which the existence and growth\nof the social unity impose. He is, in a word, under _obligation_; the\nperformance of his function is duty owed to the community of which he\nis a member.\n\nBut on the other hand, activity in the way of function realizes the\nindividual; it is what makes him an individual, or distinct person.\nIn the performance of his own function the agent satisfies his own\ninterests and gains power. In it is found his _freedom_.\n\nObligation thus corresponds to the _social_ satisfaction, freedom to\nthe _self_-satisfaction, involved in the exercise of function; and\nthey can no more be separated from each other than the correlative\nsatisfaction can be. One has to realize himself as a member of a\ncommunity. In this fact are found both freedom and duty.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.--THE IDEA OF OBLIGATION.\n\n\nXLII.\n\nTheories Regarding Moral Authority.\n\nThe idea of obligation or duty has two sides. There is the idea of law,\nof something which controls conduct, and there is the _consciousness_\nof the necessity of conforming to this law. There is, of course,\nno separation between the two sides, but the consideration of the\nlatter side--the recognition of obligation--may be best dealt with\nin discussing conscience. Here we shall deal simply with the fact\nthat there is such a thing in conduct as law controlling action, and\nconstituting obligation. Theories regarding obligation may, for our\npurposes, be subdivided into those which make its exercise restraint\nor coercion (and which therefore hold that in perfect moral conduct,\nduty as such disappears); and those which hold that obligation is a\nnormal element in conduct as such, and that it is not, essentially, but\nonly under certain circumstances, coercive. Of the former type, some\ntheories (mainly the hedonistic) regard the restraint as originally\nimposed from without upon the desires of the individual, while others\n(as the Kantian) regard it as imposed by man's reason upon his desires\nand inclinations.\n\n\nXLIII.\n\nBain's Theory of Obligation.\n\nIt is obvious that the question of obligation presents considerable\ndifficulty to the hedonistic school. If the end of conduct is pleasure,\nas the satisfaction of desire, why should not each desire be satisfied,\nif possible, as it arises, and thus pleasure secured? What meaning\nis there in the term 'duty' or 'obligation' if the moral end or good\ncoincides wholly with the natural end of the inclinations themselves?\nIt is evident, at all events, that the term can have significance\nonly if there is some cause preventing the desires as they arise from\nnatural satisfaction. The problem of obligation in hedonism thus\nbecomes the problem of discovering that outside force which restrains,\nor, at least, constrains, the desire from immediate gratification.\nAccording to Bain, this outside force is social disapprobation\nmanifested through the form of punishment.\n\n     \"I consider that the proper meaning, or import of the terms\n     [duty, obligation] refers to that class of action which is\n     enforced by the sanction of punishment.... The powers that\n     impose the obligatory sanction are Law and Society, or the\n     community acting through the Government by public judicial\n     acts, and apart from the Government by the unofficial\n     expressions of disapprobation and the exclusion from social\n     good offices\". Emotions and Will, p. 286. See also pp.\n     321-323 and p. 527.\n\nThrough this 'actual and ideal avoidance of certain acts and dread\nof punishment' the individual learns to forego the gratification of\nsome of his natural impulses, and learns also to cultivate and even to\noriginate desires not at first spontaneous. \"The child is open from the\nfirst to the blame and praise of others, and thus is led to do or avoid\ncertain acts\".\n\nOn the model, however, of the action of this external authority\nthere grows up, in time an internal authority--\"an ideal resemblance\nof public authority\" (p. 287), or \"a _fac simile_ of the system of\ngovernment around us\" (p. 313).\n\n     \"The sentiment, at first formed and cultivated by the\n     relations of actual command and obedience, may come at last\n     to stand upon an independent foundation.... When the young\n     mind, accustomed at the outset to implicitly obeying any\n     set of rules is sufficiently advanced to appreciate the\n     motive--the utilities or the sentiment that led to their\n     imposition--the character of the conscience is entirely\n     changed.... Regard is now had to the intent and meaning of\n     the law, and not to the mere fact of its being prescribed\n     by some power\" (E. and W., p. 318).\n\n     But when the sense of obligation becomes entirely detached\n     from the social sanction, \"even then the notion, sentiment\n     or form of duty is derived from what society imposes,\n     although the particular matter is quite different. Social\n     obligation develops in the mind originally the feeling\n     and habit of obligation, and this remains although the\n     particular articles are changed\" (page 319, note). _Cf._\n     also Bain, Moral Science, pp. 20-21 and 41-43.\n\n\nXLIV.\n\nSpencer's Theory of Obligation.\n\nSpencer's theory is, in substance, an enlarged and better analyzed\nrestatement of Bain's theory. Bain nowhere clearly states in what the\nessence of obligation consists, when it becomes independent, when the\ninternal _fac simile_ is formed. _Why_ should I not gratify my desires\nas I please in case social pressure is absent or lets up? Spencer\nsupplies the missing element. According to him, \"the essential trait in\nthe moral consciousness is the control of some feeling or feelings by\nsome other feeling or feelings\" (Data of Ethics, p. 113). The kind of\nfeeling which controls is that which is more complex and which relates\nto more remote ends; or, we are 'obliged' to give up more immediate,\nspecial and direct pleasures for the sake of securing more general,\nremote and indirect ones. Obligation, in its essence, is the surrender\nor subordination of present to future satisfaction. This control,\nrestraint, or suppression may be 'independent' or, self-imposed,\nbut is not so at first, either in the man or in the child. Prior to\nself-restraint are the restraints imposed by the \"visible ruler, the\ninvisible ruler and society at large\"--the policeman, the priest and\npublic opinion. The man is induced to postpone immediate gratification\nthrough his fear of others, especially of the chief, of the dead and\nof social displeasure--\"legal penalty, supernatural punishment and\nsocial reprobation\". Thus there grows up the sense of obligation.\nThis refers at first only to the above-mentioned extrinsic effects of\naction. But finally the mind learns to consider the intrinsic effect\nof the action itself--the evil inflicted by the evil deed, and then\nthe sense of duty, or coercion, evolved through the aforesaid external\nagencies, becomes transferred to this new mode of controlling action.\nDesires are now controlled through considerations of what their _own_\neffects would be, were the desires acted upon.\n\nIt follows \"that the sense of duty or moral obligation is transitory,\nand will diminish as fast as moralization increases\" (page 127).\nEven when compulsion is self-imposed, there is still compulsion,\ncoercion, and this must be done away with. It _is_ done away with as\nfar as an act which is at first done only for the sake of its own\nremoter consequences comes to be done for its own sake. And this will\nultimately occur, if the act is continued, since \"persistence in\nperforming a duty ends in making it a pleasure\".\n\n     See Guyau, La Morale Anglaise Contemporaine, besides the\n     works of Bain and Spencer. In addition to objections\n     which will forthwith be made, we may here note a\n     false abstraction of Spencer's. He makes the act and\n     its consequences _two_ things, while the act and its\n     consequences (provided they are known as such) are the\n     same thing, no matter whether consequences are near or\n     remote. The only distinction is that consequences once\n     not known as such at all are seen in time to be really\n     consequences, and thus to be part of the content of the\n     act. The transfer from the \"external consequences\" imposed\n     by the ruler, priest and public-opinion to the intrinsic\n     consequences of the act itself, is thus a transfer from an\n     immoral to a moral basis. This is very different from a\n     change of the form of obligation itself.\n\n\nXLV.\n\nCriticism of these Theories.\n\nPutting aside the consideration of the relation of desire to duty, (the\nquestion whether duty is essentially coercive) until after we have\ntaken up the Kantian idea of obligation, we may note the following\nobjections to the theories just stated. Their great defect is that\nthey do not give us any method of differentiating moral coercion (or\nobligation) from the action of mere superior physical force. Taking it\n(first) upon the side of the individual: Is there any reason _why_ the\nindividual submits to the external authority of government except that\nhe _has_ to do so? He may argue that, since others possess superior\nforce, he will avoid certain pains by conforming to their demands,\nbut such yielding, whether temporary or permanent, to superior force\nis very far from being a recognition that one _ought_ to act as the\nsuperior force dictates. The theories must logically commit us to the\ndoctrine that 'might makes right' in its baldest form. Every one knows\nthat, when the individual surrenders the natural gratifications of his\ndesires to the command of others, if his sole reason is the superior\nforce of the commanding party, he does not forego in the surrender his\nright to such gratification the moment he has the chance to get it.\nActual slavery would be the model school of duties, if these theories\nwere true.\n\nThe facts adduced by Bain and Spencer--the growth of the recognition\nof duties in the child through the authority of the parents, and in\nthe savage through the use of authority by the chief--are real enough,\nbut what they prove is that obligation may be brought home to one by\nforce, not that force creates obligation. The child and the man yield\nto force in such a way that their sense of duty is developed only in\ncase they recognize, implicitly, the force or the authority as already\n_right_. Let it be recognized that _rightful_ force (as distinct from\nmere brute strength) resides in certain social authorities, and these\nsocial authorities may do much, beyond the shadow of doubt, to give\neffect to the special deeds and relations which are to be considered\nobligatory. These theories, in fine, take the fact of obligation for\ngranted, and, at most, only show the historical process by which its\nfuller recognition is brought about. Force in the service of right is\none thing; force as constituting and creating right is another.\n\nAnd this is to say (secondly), considering the matter from the side\nof society, that the theories of Bain and Spencer do not explain\nwhy or how social authority should exercise coercive force over the\nindividual. If it is implied that they do so in the moral interests\nof the individual or of the community, this takes it for granted\nthat there already is in existence a moral ideal obligatory upon the\nindividual. If it is implied that they exercise coercive force in\nthe interests of their own private pleasure, this might establish a\ndespotism, or lead to a political revolt, but it is difficult to see\nhow it could create the fact of duty. When we consider any concrete\ncase, we see that society, in its compelling of the individual, is\npossessed of moral ideals; and that it conceives itself not merely\nas having the _power_ to make the individual conform to them, nor as\nhaving the _right_ merely; but as under the bounden _duty_ of bringing\nhome to the individual _his_ duties. The social authorities do not,\nperforce, create morality, but they embody and make effective the\nexisting morality. It is only just because the actions which they\nimpose are thought of as _good_, good for others as for themselves,\nthat this imposition is taken out of the realm of tyranny into that of\nduty (see Sec. XXXVIII).\n\n\nXLVI.\n\nThe Kantian Theory of Obligation.\n\nAs we have seen, Kant takes the conception of duty as the primary\nethical notion, superior to that of the good, and places it in the\nmost abrupt opposition to desire. The relation of duty to desire is\nnot control of some feelings by others, but rather suppression of all\ndesire (not in itself, but as a _motive_ of action) in favor of the\nconsciousness of law universal. We have, on one side, according to\nKant, the desire and inclination, which are sensuous and pathological.\nThese constitute man's 'lower nature'. On the other side there is\nReason, which is essentially universal, above all caprice and all\nprostitution to private pleasure. This Reason, or 'higher nature',\nimposes a law upon the sentient being of man, a law which takes the\nform of a command (the 'Categorical Imperative'). This relation of a\nhigher rational nature issuing commands to a lower sensuous nature\n(both within man himself), is the very essence of duty. If man were\nwholly a sentient being, he would have only to follow his natural\nimpulses, like the animals. If he were only a rational being, he\nwould necessarily obey his reason, and there would still be no talk\nof obligation. But because of the dualism, because of the absolute\nopposition between Reason and Desire, man is a being subject to\nobligation. Reason says to the desires \"Thou shalt\" or \"Thou shalt\nnot\". Yet this obligation is not externally imposed; the man as\nrational imposes it upon himself as sensuous. Thus Kant says that, in\nthe realm of morality, man is both sovereign and subject.\n\n     The reflex influence of Rousseau's social theories upon\n     Kant's moral doctrines in this respect is worthy of more\n     attention than it usually receives. Kant's moral theory is\n     hardly more than a translation of Rousseau's politics into\n     ethical terms, through its union with Kant's previously\n     established dualism of reason and sense.\n\n\nXLVII.\n\nCriticism of the Kantian Theory.\n\n1. No one can deny that a genuine opposition exists between the\n'natural' desires and moral activity. The being that satisfies each\ndesire or appetite as it arises, without reference of it to, or\ncontrol of it by, some principle, has not had the horizon of conduct\nlift before him. But Kant makes the satisfaction of desire _as such_\n(not of this or that desire) antagonistic to action from duty. Kant\nwas forced into this position by his fundamental division of sense\nfrom reason, but it carries with it its own condemnation and thus\nthat of the premises from which it is derived. It comes to saying\nthat the actual desires and appetites are not what they ought to be.\nThis, in itself, is true enough. But when Kant goes on to say, as he\nvirtually does, that what ought to be _cannot_ be, that the desires as\nsuch cannot be brought into harmony with principle, he has made the\nmoral life not only a riddle, but a riddle with no answer. If mankind\nwere once convinced that the moral ideal were something which ought\nto be but which could not be, we may easily imagine how much longer\nmoral endeavor would continue. The first or immediate stimulus to\nmoral effort is the conviction that the desires and appetites are not\nwhat they should be; the underlying and continuing stimulus is the\nconviction that the expression of desires in harmony with law is the\nsole abiding good of man. To reconcile the two is the very meaning\nof the moral struggle (see Sec. LXIV). Strictly, according to Kant,\nmorality would either leave the appetites untouched or would abolish\nthem--in either case destroying morality.\n\n     See Caird, Op. cit., Vol. II, pp. 226-28.\n\n2. Kant again seems to be on the right track in declaring that\nobligation is not anything externally imposed, but is the law of man's\nbeing, self-imposed. This principle of 'autonomy' is the only escape\nfrom a theory of obligation which would make obligation external, and\nregard for it slavish fear, or servile hope of reward. To regard even\na Divine Being as the author of obligation is to make it a form of\nexternal constraint, appealing only to hope or fear, unless this Divine\nBeing is shown to be organically connected with self.\n\nBut this abstract universal reason which somehow dwells, without\nmediation or reason, in each individual, seems to be somewhat\nscholastic, a trifle mythological. There is undoubtedly in man's\nexperience a function which corresponds to what Kant is aiming, thus\nmythologically, to describe. But it is one thing to recognize an\nopposition of a desire, in its isolation, to desire as organic to the\nfunction of the whole man; it is another to split man into a blank\ndualism of an abstract reason, on one side, having no antecedents or\nbearings, and of a mess of appetites, having only animal relationship,\non the other. The truth that Kant is aiming to preserve seems to be\nfairly stated as two-fold: first, that duty is self-imposed, and\nthus the dutiful will autonomous or free; and, second, the presence\nof struggle in man between a 'lower' and a 'higher'. The first point\nseems to be sufficiently met by the idea already advanced that self,\nor individuality, is essentially social, being constituted not by\nisolated capacity, but by capacity acting in response to the needs\nof an environment--an environment which, when taken in its fullness,\nis a community of persons. Any law imposed by such a self would be\n'universal', but this universality would not be an isolated possession\nof the individual; it would be another name for the concrete social\nrelationships which make the individual what he is, as a social member\nor organ. Furthermore, such a universal law would not be formal, but\nwould have a content--these same relationships.\n\nThe second point seems to be met by recognizing that in the realization\nof the law of social function, conflict must occur between the desire\nas an immediate and direct expression of the individual--the desire in\nits isolation--and desire as an expression of the whole man; desire,\nthat is, as wholly conformable to the needs of the surroundings. Such\na conflict is real enough, as everyone's experience will testify, but\nit is a conflict which may be solved--which must be solved so far as\nmorality is attained. And since it is a conflict within desire itself,\nits solution or morality, does not require any impossible obliteration\nof desire, nor any acting from an 'ought' which has no relation to\nwhat 'is'. This, indeed, is _the_ failure of the Kantian Ethics: in\nseparating what should be from what is, it deprives the latter, the\nexisting social world as well as the desires of the individual, of all\nmoral value; while, by the same separation, it condemns that which\nshould be to a barren abstraction. An 'ought' which does not root in\nand flower from the 'is', which is not the fuller realization of the\nactual state of social relationships, is a mere pious wish that things\nshould be better. And morality, that is, right action, is not so feeble\nas this would come to.\n\n\nXLVIII.\n\nThe Source and Nature of Obligation.\n\nThe basis of a correct theory of obligation lies, as already stated,\nin holding fast to its concrete relations to the moral end, or good.\nThis end consists in an activity in which capacity is exercised in\naccordance with surroundings, with the social needs which affect the\nindividual. It is implied in this very idea, that the end is not\nsomething which the individual may set up at his own arbitrary will.\nThe social needs give control, law, authority. The individual may not\nmanifest his capacity, satisfy his desires, apart from their specific\nrelation to the environment in which they exist. The general fact of\nobligation which is constituted through this control of capacity by the\nwider function is, of course, differentiated into specific 'laws' or\nduties by the various forms which the one function takes, as capacity\nand circumstances vary.\n\nIn other words, obligation or duty is simply the aspect which the good\nor the moral end assumes, as the individual conceives of it. From\nthe very fact that the end is the good, and yet is not realized by\nthe individual, it presents itself to him as that which _should be\nrealized_--as the ideal of action. It requires no further argument\nto show that obligation is at once self-imposed, and social in its\ncontent. It is self-imposed because it flows from the good, from the\nidea of the full activity of the individual's own will. It is no law\nimposed from without; but is his own law, the law of his own function,\nof his individuality. Its social content flows from the fact that this\nindividuality is not mere capacity, but is this capacity _acting_, and\nacting so as to comprehend social relationships.\n\nSuppose that man's good and his conviction of duty were divorced\nfrom one another--that man's duty were other than to fulfill his\nown specific function. Such a thing would make duty purely formal;\nthe moral law would have no intrinsic relation to daily conduct, to\nthe expression of man's powers and wants. There have, indeed, been\nmoralists who think they do the Lord service, who think they add to\nthe dignity and sacredness of Duty by making it other than the idea\nof the activity of man, regulated indeed, but regulated only by its\nown principle of activity. But such moralists in their desire to\nconsecrate the idea of duty remove from it all content, and leave it\nan empty abstraction. On the other hand, their eagerness to give\nabsoluteness and imperativeness to duty by making it a law other\nthan that of the normal expression of man, casts discredit upon the\none moral reality--the full, free play of human life. In denying\nthat duty is simply the _intrinsic_ law, the _self_-manifestation\nof this life, they make this life immoral, or at least non-moral.\nThey degrade it to a bundle of appetites and powers having no moral\nvalue until the outside moral law is applied to them. In reality, the\ndignity and imperativeness of duty are simply the manifest dignity and\nunconditioned worth of human life as exhibited in its free activity.\nThe whole idea of the separateness of duty from the concrete flow of\nhuman action is a virulent example of the fallacy mentioned in an early\nsection--the fallacy that moral action means something more than action\nitself (see Sec. II).\n\nThe attempt to act upon a theory of the divorce of satisfaction and\nduty, to carry it out in practice, means the maiming of desire through\ndistrust of its moral significance, and thus, by withdrawing the\nimpetus of action, the reduction of life to mere passivity. So far as\nthis does not happen, it means the erection of the struggle itself, the\nerection of the opposition of law to desire, into the very principle of\nthe moral life. The essential principle of the moral life, that good\nconsists in the freeing of impulse, of appetite, of desire, of power,\nby enabling them to flow in the channel of a unified and full end is\nlost sight of, and the free service of the spirit is reduced to the\nslavish fear of a bond-man under a hard taskmaster.\n\nThe essential point in the analysis of moral law, or obligation, having\nbeen found, we may briefly discuss some subsidiary points.\n\n1. The relation of duty to a given desire. As any desire arises,\nit will be, except so far as character has already been moralized,\na demand for its own satisfaction; the desire, in a word, will be\nisolated. In so far, duty will be in a negative attitude towards the\ndesire; it will insist first upon its limitation, and then upon its\ntransformation. So far as it is merely limitative, it demands the\ndenying of the desire, and so far assumes a coercive form. But this\nlimitation is not for its own sake, but for that of the transformation\nof desire into a freer and more adequate form--into a form, that is,\nwhere it will carry with it, when it passes into action, _more of\nactivity_, than the original desire would have done.\n\nDoes duty itself disappear when its constraint disappears? On the\ncontrary, so far as an act is done unwillingly, under constraint,\nso far the act is impure, and _undutiful_. The very fact that there\nis need of constraint shows that the self is divided; that there is\na two-fold interest and purpose--one in the law of the activity\naccording to function, the other in the special end of the particular\ndesire. Let the act be done _wholly as duty_, and it is done wholly for\nits own sake; love, passion take the place of constraint. This suggests:\n\n2. Duty for duty's sake.\n\nIt is clear that such an expression states a real moral fact; unless a\nduty is done _as_ duty it is not done morally. An act may be outwardly\njust what morality demands, and yet if done for the sake of some\nprivate advantage it is not counted moral. As Kant expresses it, an\nact must be done not only in accordance with duty, but _from duty_.\nThis truth, however, is misinterpreted when it is taken to mean that\nthe act is to be done for the sake of duty, and duty is conceived as\na third thing outside the act itself. Such a theory contradicts the\ntrue sense of the phrase 'duty for duty's sake', for it makes the act\ndone not for its own sake, but as a mere means to an abstract law\nbeyond itself. 'Do the right because it is the right' means do the\nright _thing_ because it _is_ the right thing; that is, do the act\ndisinterestedly from interest in the act itself. A duty is always some\nact or line of action, not a third thing outside the act to which it\nis to conform. In short, duty means _the act which is to be done_, and\n'duty for duty's sake' means do the required act as it really is; do\nnot degrade it into a means for some ulterior end. This is as true\nin practice as in theory. A man who does his duty not for the sake of\nthe acts themselves, but for the sake of some abstract 'ideal' which\nhe christens duty in general, will have a morality at once hard and\nbarren, and weak and sentimental.\n\n3. The agency of moral authority in prescribing moral law and\nstimulating to moral conduct.\n\nThe facts, relied upon by Bain and Spencer, as to the part played\nby social influences in imposing duties, are undeniable. The facts,\nhowever, are unaccountable upon the theory of these writers, as that\ntheory would, as we have seen, explain only the influence of society\nin producing acts done from fear or for hope of reward. But if the\nindividual and others are equally members of one society, if the\nperformance by each man of his own function constitutes a good common\nto all, it is inevitable that social authorities should be an influence\nin constituting and teaching duties. The community, in imposing its\nown needs and demands upon the individual, is simply arousing him to\na knowledge of his relationships in life, to a knowledge of the moral\nenvironment in which he lives, and of the acts which he must perform if\nhe is to realize his individuality. The community in awakening moral\nconsciousness in the morally immature may appeal to motives of hope\nand fear. But even this fact does not mean that to the child, duty\nis necessarily constituted by fear of punishment or hope of reward.\nIt means simply that his capacity and his surroundings are both so\nundeveloped that the exercise of his function takes mainly the form of\npleasing others. He may still do his duty _as_ his duty, but his duty\nnow consists in pleasing others.\n\n     On Obligation see Green, Op. cit., pp. 352-356; Alexander,\n     Op. cit., pp. 142-147. For different views, Martineau,\n     Op. cit., Vol. II, pp. 92-119; Calderwood, Op. cit., pp.\n     131-138, and see also, Grote, Treatise on Moral Ideals, ch.\n     VII.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III.--THE IDEA OF FREEDOM.\n\n\nXLIX.\n\nThe Forms of Freedom.\n\nWe may now deal, more briefly, with the problem of moral capacity. It\nis, in principle, the ability to conceive of an end and to be governed\nin action by this conceived end. We may consider this capacity in three\naspects, as negative, as potential and as positive.\n\n1. _Negative Aspect of Freedom._ The power to be governed in action by\nthe thought of some end to be reached is freedom _from_ the appetites\nand desires. An animal which does not have the power of proposing ends\nto itself is impelled to action by its wants and appetites just as they\ncome into consciousness. It is _irritated_ into acting. Each impulse\ndemands its own satisfaction, and the animal is helpless to rise above\nthe particular want. But a _person_, one who can direct his action\nby conscious ends, is emancipated from subjection to the particular\nappetites. He can consider their relation to the end which he has set\nbefore himself, and can reject, modify or use them as best agrees with\nthe purposed end. This capacity to control and subjugate impulses by\nreflection upon their relationship to a rational end is the power of\nself-government, and the more distinct and the more comprehensive in\nscope the end is, the more real the self-government.\n\n2. _Potential Freedom._ The power to conceive of ends involves the\npossibility of thinking of many and various ends, and even of ends\nwhich are contrary to one another. If an agent could conceive of but\none end in some case, it would always seem to him afterwards that he\nhad been necessitated to act in the direction of that end; but the\npower to put various ends before self constitutes \"freedom of choice\",\nor potential freedom. After action, the agent calls to mind that there\nwas another end open to him, and that if he did not choose the other\nend, it was because of something in his character which made him prefer\nthe one he actually chose.\n\n\nL.\n\nMoral Responsibility.\n\nHere we have the basis of moral _responsibility_ or _accountability_.\nThere is no responsibility for any result which is not intended or\nforeseen. Such a consequence is only physical, not moral. (Sec. VII).\nBut when any result has been foreseen, and adopted as foreseen, such\nresult is the outcome not of any external circumstances, nor of mere\ndesires and impulses, but of the agent's conception of his own end.\nNow, because the result thus flows from the agent's own conception of\nan end, he feels himself responsible for it.\n\nIt must be remembered that the end adopted is that which is conceived\n_as satisfying self_--that, indeed, when we say end of action, we mean\nonly some proposed form of self-satisfaction. The adopted end always\nindicates, therefore, that sort of condition which the agent considers\nto be good, or self-satisfactory. It is because a result flows from the\nagent's _ideal of himself_, the thought of himself which he considers\ndesirable or worth realizing, that the agent feels himself responsible.\nThe result is simply an expression of himself; a manifestation of what\nhe would have himself be. Responsibility is thus one aspect of the\nidentity of character and conduct. (Sec. VII). We are responsible for\nour conduct because that conduct is ourselves objectified in actions.\n\nThe idea of responsibility is intensified whenever there have been two\ncontrary lines of conduct conceived, of which one has been chosen. If\nthe end adopted turns out not to be satisfactory, but, rather, unworthy\nand degrading, the agent feels that he _might_ have chosen the other\nend, and that if he did not, it was because his character was such,\nhis ideal of himself was such, that this other end did not appeal\nto him. The actual result is felt to be the outcome of an unworthy\ncharacter manifested in the adoption of a low form of satisfaction;\nand the evident contrast of this low form with a higher form, present\nto consciousness but rejected, makes the sense of responsibility more\nacute. As such, it is the judgment of disapprobation passed upon\nconduct; the feeling of remorse and of the desert of punishment.\nFreedom as the power of conceiving ends and of realizing the ideal end\nin action, is thus the basis both of responsibility and of approbation\n(or disapprobation).\n\n     _The Freedom of Indifference._ It is this potential\n     freedom, arising from the power of proposing various\n     ends of action, which, misinterpreted, gives rise to the\n     theory of a liberty of indifferent choice--the theory\n     that the agent can choose this or that without any\n     ground or motive. The real experience is the knowledge,\n     after the choice of one end, that since another end was\n     also present to consciousness that other end might have\n     been chosen, _if only the character had been such as to\n     find its satisfaction in that other end_. The theory of\n     indifference misconstrues this fact to mean that the agent\n     might just as well have chosen that other end, without any\n     if or qualification whatever. The theory of indifference,\n     moreover, defeats its own end. The point which it is\n     anxious to save is responsibility. It sees that if only\n     one course of action were ever open to an agent, without\n     the possibility of any _conception_ of another course, an\n     agent, so acting, could not be held responsible for not\n     having adopted that other course. And so it argues that\n     there must always be the possibility of indifferent or\n     alternate choice; the possibility of adopting this or that\n     line of action without any motive. But if such were the\n     case responsibility would be destroyed. If the end chosen\n     is not an expression of character, if it does not manifest\n     the agent's ideal of himself, if its choice is a matter\n     of indifference, it does not signify morally, but is mere\n     accident or caprice. It is because choice is _not_ a matter\n     of indifference, but an outcome of character that the\n     agent feels responsibility, and approves or disapproves.\n     He virtually says: \"I am responsible for this outcome,\n     not because I could have chosen another end just as well\n     _without any reason_, but because I thought of another end\n     and rejected it; because my character was such that that\n     end did not seem good, and was such that this end did seem\n     good. My character is myself, and in this unworthy end I\n     stand self-condemned.\"\n\n\nLI.\n\nMoral Reformation.\n\nFreedom considered as potential, depending upon the power of the agent\nto frame diverse ends, is the basis not only of responsibility, but\nalso of the possibility of reformation, or of change in character and\nconduct. All moral action is the expression of self, but the self\nis not something fixed or rigid. It includes as a necessary part of\nitself the possibility of framing conceptions of what it would be,\nand there is, therefore, at any time the possibility of acting upon\nsome ideal hitherto unrealized. If conduct were the expression of\ncharacter, in a sense which identified character wholly with past\nattainments, then reformation would be impossible. What a man once was\nhe must always continue to be. But past attainments do not exhaust all\nthe possibilities of character. Since conduct necessarily implies a\ncontinuous adjustment of developing capacity to new conditions, there\nis the ability to frame a changed ideal of self-satisfaction--that\nis, ability to lead a new life. That the new ideal is adopted from\nexperience of the unworthy nature of former deeds is what we should\nexpect. The chosen end having proved itself unsatisfactory, the\nalternative end, previously rejected, recurs to consciousness with\nadded claims. To sum up: The doctrine that choice depends upon\ncharacter is correct, but the doctrine is misused when taken to mean\nthat a man's outward conduct will always be in the same direction that\nit has been. Character involves all the ideas of different and of\nbetter things which have been present to the agent, although he has\nnever attempted to carry them out. And there is always the possibility\nthat, if the proper influences are brought to bear, some one of\nthese latent ideals may be made vital, and wholly change the bent of\ncharacter and of conduct.\n\n\nLII.\n\nPositive Freedom.\n\nThe _capacity_ of freedom lies in the power to form an ideal or\nconception of an end. _Actual_ freedom lies in the realization of\nthat end which actually satisfies. An end may be freely adopted, and\nyet its actual working out may result not in freedom, but in slavery.\nIt may result in rendering the agent more subject to his passions,\nless able to direct his own conduct, and more cramped and feeble in\npowers. Only that end which executed really effects greater energy and\ncomprehensiveness of character makes for actual freedom. In a word,\nonly the good man, the man who is truly realizing his individuality, is\nfree, in the positive sense of that word.\n\nEvery action which is not in the line of performance of functions\nmust necessarily result in self-enslavement. The end of desire is\nactivity; and it is only in fullness and unity of activity that freedom\nis found. When desires are not unified--when, that is, the idea of\nthe exercise of function does not control conduct--one desire must\nconflict with another. Action is directed now this way, now that,\nand there is friction, loss of power. On account of this same lack of\ncontrol of desires by the comprehensive law of social activity, one\nmember of society is brought into conflict with another, with waste\nof energy, and with impeded and divided activity and satisfaction of\ndesire. Exercise of function, on the other hand, unifies the desires,\ngiving each its relative, although subordinate, place. It fits each\ninto the others, and, through the harmonious adjustment of one to\nanother, effects that complete and unhindered action which is freedom.\nThe performance of specific function falls also into free relations\nwith the activities of other persons, co\u00f6perating with them, giving and\nreceiving what is needed, and thus constituting full liberty. Other\naspects of freedom, as the negative and the potential, are simply means\ninstrumental to the realization of individuality, and when not employed\ntoward this, their true end, they become methods of enslaving the agent.\n\n     On the subject of moral freedom, as, upon the whole, in\n     agreement with the view presented here: See\n\n     Green: Prolegomena to Ethics, pp. 90-117; 142-158. Bradley:\n     Ethical Studies, ch. I; Caird: Phil. of Kant, Vol. II, Bk.\n     II, ch. 3; Alexander: Moral Order and Progress, pp. 336-341.\n\n     And, for a view agreeing in part, Stephen: Science of\n     Ethics, pp. 278-293.\n\n     For presentations of the freedom of indifference, see,\n     Lotze: Practical Philosophy, ch. 3. Martineau: Op.\n     cit., Vol. II, pp. 34-40. Calderwood: Handbook of Moral\n     Philosophy.\n\n\n\n\nPART II.\n\nTHE ETHICAL WORLD.\n\n\nLIII.\n\nThe Reality of Moral Relations.\n\nThe habit of conceiving moral action as a certain _kind_ of action,\ninstead of all action so far as it really is action, leads us to\nconceive of morality as a highly desirable something which somehow\nought to be brought into our lives, but which upon the whole is not.\nIt gives rise to the habit of conceiving morality as a vague ideal\nwhich it is praiseworthy for the individual to strive for, but which\ndepends wholly for its existence upon the individual's wish in the\nmatter. Morality, that is, is considered as a relation existing between\nsomething which merely _ought to be_, on one hand, and the individual's\nchoice, or his conscience on the other. This point of view has found\ntypical expression in Bishop Butler's saying: \"If conscience had might\nas it has right, it would rule the world.\"\n\nBut right is not such a helpless creature. It exists not in word but\nin power. The moral world is, here and now; it is a reality apart from\nthe wishes, or failures to wish, of any given individual. It bears\nthe same relation to the individual's activity that the 'physical\nworld' does to his knowledge. Not till the individual has to spin the\nphysical world out of his consciousness in order to know it, will\nit be necessary for him to create morality by his choice, before it\ncan exist. As knowledge is mastery in one's self of the real world,\nthe reproduction of it in self-consciousness, so moral action is the\nappropriation and vital self-expression of the values contained in the\nexisting practical world.\n\nThe existence of this moral world is not anything vaguely mysterious.\nImagine a well organized factory, in which there is some comprehensive\nindustry carried on--say the production of cotton cloth. This is the\nend; it is a common end--that for which each individual labors. Not all\nindividuals, however, are doing the same thing. The more perfect the\nactivity, the better organized the work, the more differentiated their\nrespective labors. This is the side of individual activity or freedom.\nTo make the analogy with moral activity complete we have to suppose\nthat each individual is doing the work because of itself, and not\nmerely as drudgery for the sake of some further end, as pay. Now these\nvarious individuals are bound together by their various acts; some\nmore nearly because doing closely allied things, all somewhat, because\ncontributing to a common activity. This is the side of laws and duties.\n\nThis group of the differentiated and yet related activities is the\nanalogue of the moral world. There are certain wants which have\nconstantly to be fulfilled; certain ends which demand co\u00f6perating\nactivities, and which establish fixed relations between men. There is a\nworld of ends, a realm of definite activities in existence, as concrete\nas the ends and activities in our imagined factory. The child finds,\nthen, ends and actions in existence when he is born. More than this: he\nis not born as a mere spectator of the world; he is born _into_ it. He\nfinds himself encompassed by such relations, and he finds his own being\nand activity intermeshed with them. If he takes away from himself, as\nan agent, what he has, as sharing in these ends and actions, nothing\nremains.\n\n\nLIV.\n\nMoral Institutions.\n\nThis world of purposes and activities is differentiated into various\ninstitutions. The child is born as a member of a _family_; as he grows\nup he finds that others have possessions which he must respect, that\nis, he runs upon the institution of _property_. As he grows still\nolder, he finds persons outside of the family of whose actions he must\ntake account as respects his own: _society_, in the limited sense\nas meaning relations of special intimacy or acquaintanceship. Then\nhe finds the political institutions; the city, state and nation. He\nfinds an educational institution, the school, the college; religious\ninstitutions, the church, etc., etc. Everywhere he finds men having\ncommon wants and thus proposing common ends and using co\u00f6perative modes\nof action. To these organized modes of action, with their reference to\ncommon interests and purposes, he must adjust his activities; he must\ntake his part therein, if he acts at all, though it be only negatively\nor hostilely, as in evil conduct. These institutions _are_ morality\nreal and objective; the individual becomes moral as he shares in this\nmoral world, and takes his due place in it.\n\nInstitutions, then, are organized modes of action, on the basis of the\nwants and interests which unite men. They differ as the family from the\ntown, the church from the state, according to the scope and character\nof the wants from which they spring. They are not bare _facts_ like\nobjects of knowledge; they are _practical_, existing for the sake of,\nand by means of the will--as execution of ideas which have interest.\nBecause they are expressions of common purposes and ideas, they are\nnot merely private will and intelligence, but, in the literal sense,\n_public_ will and reason.\n\nThe moral endeavor of man thus takes the form not of isolated fancies\nabout right and wrong, not of attempts to frame a morality for himself,\nnot of efforts to bring into being some praiseworthy ideal never\nrealized; but the form of sustaining and furthering the moral world\nof which he is a member. Since the world is one of action, and not of\ncontemplation like the world of knowledge, it can be sustained and\nfurthered only as he makes its ends his own, and identifies himself and\nhis satisfaction with the activities in which other wills find their\nfulfillment.\n\n     This is simply a more concrete rendering of what has\n     already been said about the moral environment (see Sec. 33).\n\n\nLV.\n\nThe Aspects of a Moral Institution.\n\nAn institution is, as we have seen the expression of unity of desires\nand ideas; it is general intelligence in action, or common will. As\nsuch common will, it is, as respects the merely private or exclusive\nwants and aims of its members, absolutely _sovereign_. It must aim\nto control them. It must set before them the common end or ideal and\ninsist upon this as the only real end of individual conduct. The ends\nso imposed by the public reason are _laws_. But these laws are for the\nsake of realizing the _common_ end, of securing that organized unity of\naction in which alone the individual can find freedom and fullness of\naction, or his own satisfaction. Thus the activity of the common will\ngives freedom, or _rights_, to the various members of the institution.\n\nEvery institution, then, has its sovereignty, or authority, and\nits laws and rights. It is only a false abstraction which makes us\nconceive of sovereignty, or authority, and of law and of rights as\ninhering only in some supreme organization, as the national state.\nThe family, the school, the neighborhood group, has its authority\nas respects its members, imposes its ideals of action, or laws, and\nconfers its respective satisfactions in way of enlarged freedom, or\nrights. It is true that no one of these institutions is isolated; that\neach stands in relation with other like and unlike institutions. Each\nminor institution is a member of some more comprehensive whole, to\nwhich it bears the same relation that the individual bears to it. That\nis to say, _its_ sovereignty gives way to the authority of the more\ncomprehensive organization; its laws must be in harmony with the laws\nwhich flow from the larger activity; its rights must become aspects\nof a fuller satisfaction. Only humanity or the organized activity of\nall the wants, powers and interests common to men, can have absolute\nsovereignty, law and rights.\n\nBut the narrower group has its relations, none the less, although, in\nultimate analysis, they flow from and manifest the wider good, which,\nas wider, must be controlling. Without such minor local authorities,\nrights and laws, humanity would be a meaningless abstraction, and its\nactivity wholly empty. There is an authority in the family, and the\nmoral growth of the child consists in identifying the law of his own\nconduct with the ends aimed at by the institution, and in growing into\nmaturity and freedom of manhood through the rights which are bestowed\nupon him as such a member. Within its own range this institution\nis ultimate. But its range is not ultimate; the family, valuable\nand sacred as it is, does not exist for itself. It is not a larger\nselfishness. It exists as one mode of realizing that comprehensive\ncommon good to which all institutions must contribute, if they are not\nto decay. It is the same with property, the school, the local church,\nand with the national state.\n\nWe can now translate into more concrete terms what was said, in Part\nI, regarding the good, obligation and freedom. That performance of\nfunction which is 'the good', is now seen to consist in vital union\nwith, and reproduction of, the practical institutions of which one is a\nmember. The maintenance of such institutions by the free participation\ntherein of individual wills, is, of itself, the common good. Freedom\nalso gets concreteness; it is the assured rights, or powers of action\nwhich one gets as such a member:--powers which are not mere claims, nor\nsimply claims recognized as valid by others, but claims re-inforced by\nthe will of the whole community. Freedom becomes real in the ethical\nworld; it becomes force and efficiency of action, because it does not\nmean some private possession of the individual, but means the whole\nco\u00f6perating and organized action of an institution in securing to an\nindividual some power of self expression.\n\n\nLVI.\n\nMoral Law and the Ethical World.\n\nWithout the idea of the ethical world, as the unified activity of\ndiverse functions exercised by different individuals, the idea of the\ngood, and of freedom, would be undefined. But probably no one has ever\nattempted to conceive of the good and of freedom in total abstraction\nfrom the normal activity of man. Such has not been the lot of duty,\nor of the element of law. Often by implication, sometimes in so many\nwords, it is stated that while a physical law may be accounted for,\nsince it is simply an abstract from observed facts, a moral law stands\nwholly above and apart from actual facts; it expresses solely what\n'ought to be' and not what is; that, indeed, whether anything in\naccordance with it ever has existed or not, is a matter of no essential\nmoral importance theoretically, however it may be practically. Now it\nis evident that a law of something which has not existed, does not and\nperhaps never will exist, is essentially inexplicable and mysterious.\nIt is as against such a notion of moral law that the idea of a real\nethical world has perhaps its greatest service.\n\nA moral law, _e. g._, the law of justice, is no more _merely_ a law of\nwhat ought to be than is the law of gravitation. As the latter states a\ncertain relation of moving masses to one another, so the law of justice\nstates a certain relation of active wills to one another. For a given\nindividual, at a given time and circumstances, the law of justice may\nappear as the law of something which ought to be, but is not:--is not\n_for him in this respect_, that is to say. But the very fact that it\nought to be for him implies that it already is for others. It _is_ a\nlaw of the society of which he is a member. And it is because he _is_ a\nmember of a society having this law, that is a law of what _should_ be\nfor him.\n\nWould then justice cease to be a law for him if it were not observed\nat all in the society of which he is a member? Such a question is as\ncontradictory as asking what would happen to a planet if the solar\nsystem went out of existence. It is the law of justice (with other such\nlaws) that _makes_ society; that is, it is those active relations\nwhich find expression in these laws that unify individuals so that they\nhave a common end, and thus mutual duties. To imagine the abolition of\nthese laws is to imagine the abolition of society; and to ask for the\nlaw of individual conduct apart from all relationship, actual or ideal,\nto society, is to ask in what morality consists when moral conditions\nare destroyed. A society in which the social bond we call justice does\nnot obtain to some degree in the relations of man to man, is _not_\nsociety; and, on the other hand, wherever some law of justice actually\nobtains, there the law _is_ for every individual who is a member of the\nsociety.\n\nThis does not mean that the 'is', the actual status of the moral\nworld, is identical with the 'ought', or the ideal relations of man to\nman. But it does mean that there is no obligation, either in general\nor as any specific duty, which does not _grow_ out of the 'is', the\nactual relations now obtaining.[1] The ethical world at any given\ntime is undoubtedly imperfect, and, _therefore_, it demands a certain\nact to meet the situation. The very imperfection, the very badness\nin the present condition of things, is a part of the environment\nwith reference to which we must act; it is, thus, an element in the\n_law_ of future action that it shall not exactly repeat the existing\ncondition. In other words, the 'is' gives the law of the 'ought', but\nit is a part of this law that the 'ought' shall not be as the 'is'. It\nis because the relation of justice does hold in members of a stratum of\nsociety, having a certain position, power or wealth, but does not hold\nbetween this section and another class, that the law of what should\nbe is equal justice for all. In holding that actual social relations\nafford the law of what should be, we must not forget that these actual\nrelations have a negative as well as a positive side, and that the new\nlaw must be framed in view of the negatives, the deficiencies, the\nwrongs, the contradictions, as well as of the positive attainments. A\nmoral law, to sum up, is the principle of action, which, acted upon,\nwill meet the needs of the existing situation as respects the wants,\npowers, and circumstances of the individuals concerned. It is no\nfar-away abstraction, but expresses the _movement_ of the ethical world.\n\n     [1] See Secs. 59, 60 and 63 for discussion of other aspects\n     of this question.\n\nOne example will help define the discussion. Take the case of a street\nrailway conductor, whose union has ordered a strike. What determines\nthe law of his conduct under the circumstances? Evidently the existing\nethical institutions of which he is a member, so far as he is conscious\nof their needs. To determine what he should do, he does not hunt up\nsome law of an 'ought' apart from what is; if he should hunt for and\nshould find such a law he would not know what to do with it. Just\nbecause it is apart from his concrete circumstances it is no guide, no\nlaw for his conduct at all. He has to act not in view of some abstract\nprinciple, but in view of a concrete situation. He considers his\npresent wage, its relation to its needs and abilities; his capacity\nand taste for this and for that work; the reasons for the strike; the\nconditions of labor at present with reference to winning the strike,\nand as to the chance of getting other work. He considers his family,\ntheir needs and developing powers; the demand that they should live\ndecently; that his children should be fairly educated and get a fair\nstart in the world; he considers his relationships to his fellow\nmembers in the union, etc. These considerations, and such as these,\ngive the law to his decision in so far as he acts morally and not\ninstinctively. Where in this law-giving is there any separation from\nfacts? On the contrary, the more right the act (the nearer it comes\nto its proper law), the more it will simply express and reflect the\nactual concrete facts. The law, in other words, of action, is the law\nof actual social forces in their onward movement, in so far as these\ndemand some response in the way of conduct from the individual.\n\nWe may restate from this point of view, what we have already learned:\nA moral law is thoroughly individualized. It cannot be duplicated; it\ncannot be for one act just what it is for another. The ethical world\nis too rich in capacity and circumstance to permit of monotony; it is\ntoo swift in its movement to allow of bare repetition. It will not hold\nstill; it moves on, and moral law is the law of action required from\nindividuals by this movement.\n\n     The consideration of specific institutions, as the family,\n     industrial society, civil society, the nation, etc.,\n     with their respective rights and laws, belongs rather to\n     political philosophy than to the general theory of ethics.\n\n\n\n\nPART III.\n\nTHE MORAL LIFE OF THE INDIVIDUAL.\n\n\nLVII.\n\nDivision of Subject.\n\nWe have now analyzed the fundamental moral notions--the good, duty and\nfreedom; we have considered their objective realization, and seen that\nthey are outwardly expressed in social relations, the more typical\nand abiding of which we call institutions; that abstract duties are\nrealized in the laws created and imposed by such institutions, and\nthat abstract freedom is realized in the rights possessed by members\nin them. We have now to consider the concrete moral life of an\nindividual born into this existing ethical world and finding himself\nconfronted with institutions in which he must execute his part, and\nin which he obtains his satisfaction and free activity. We have to\nconsider how these institutions appeal to the individual, awakening in\nhim a distinct _moral_ consciousness, or the consciousness of active\nrelations to persons, in antithesis to the theoretical consciousness\nof relations which exist in contemplation; how the individual behaves\ntowards these institutions, realizing them by assuming his proper\nposition in them, or attempting to thwart them by living in isolation\nfrom them; and how a moral character is thus called into being. More\nshortly, we have to deal (I) with the practical consciousness, or\nthe formation and growth of ideals of conduct; (II) with the moral\nstruggle, or the process of realizing ideals, and (III) with moral\ncharacter, or the virtues.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I.--THE FORMATION AND GROWTH OF IDEALS.\n\n\nLVIII.\n\nAnalysis of Conscience.\n\nThe practical consciousness, or the recognition of ends and relations\nof action, is what is usually termed _conscience_. The analysis\nof conscience shows that it involves three elements, which may be\ndistinguished in theory, although they have no separate existence in\nthe actual fact of conscience itself. These three elements are (1) the\nknowledge of certain specific forms of conduct, (2) the recognition of\nthe authority or obligatoriness of the forms, and (3) the emotional\nfactors which cluster about this recognition. That is to say, we often\nspeak (1) of conscience telling or informing us of duties; we speak of\nan enlightened or unenlightened conscience; of savage, or medi\u00e6val, or\nmodern conscience. Here we are evidently thinking of the kind and range\nof particular acts considered right or wrong. But we also speak (2) of\nthe authority and majesty of conscience; of the commands of conscience,\netc. Here we are thinking of the consciousness of _obligation in\ngeneral_. The savage and the civilized man may vary greatly in their\nestimate of what particular acts are right or wrong, and yet agree in\nthe recognition that such acts as are right are absolutely obligatory.\nFinally we speak of an approving or disapproving, or remorseful\nconscience, of a tender or a hardened conscience, of the pangs, the\npricks of conscience, etc. Here (3) we are evidently dealing with the\nresponsiveness of the disposition to moral distinctions, either in\nparticular acts, or in the recognition of moral law in general.\n\n\nLIX.\n\nConscience as the Recognition of Special Acts as Right or Wrong.\n\nConscience in this sense is no peculiar, separate faculty of mind. It\nis simply intelligence dealing with a certain subject-matter. That is,\nconscience is distinguished not by the kind of mental activity at work,\nbut by the kind of material the mind works upon. Intelligence deals\nwith the nature and relations of things, and we call it understanding;\nintelligence deals with the relations of persons and deeds, and it is\ntermed conscience.\n\nWe may, with advantage, recognize these stages in the development of\nintelligence as dealing with moral relationships:\n\n1. _The Customary or Conventional Conscience._ The existing moral\nworld, with the types and varieties of institutions peculiar to it, is\nconstantly impressing itself upon the immature mind; it makes certain\ndemands of moral agents and enforces them with all the means in its\npower--punishment, reward, blame, public-opinion, and the bestowal of\nsocial leadership. These demands and expectations naturally give rise\nto certain convictions in the individual as to what he should or should\nnot do. Such convictions are not the outcome of independent reflection,\nbut of the moulding influence of social institutions. Moreover the\nmorality of a time becomes consolidated into proverbs, maxims and\nlaw-codes. It takes shape in certain habitual ways of looking at and\njudging matters. All these are instilled into the growing mind through\nlanguage, literature, association and legal custom, until they leave in\nthe mind a corresponding habit and attitude toward things to be done.\nThis process may be compared to the process by which knowledge of\nthe world of things is first attained. Certain of the more permanent\nfeatures of this world, especially those whose observance is important\nin relation to continued physical existence and well-being, impress\nthemselves upon the mind. Consciousness, with no reflective activity of\nits own, comes to mirror some of the main outlines of the world. The\nmore important distinctions are fixed in language, and they find their\nway into the individual mind, giving it unconsciously a certain bent\nand coloring.\n\n2. _The Loyal Conscience._ But just as the mind, which seems at\nfirst to have the facts and features of the world poured into itself\nas a passive vessel, comes in time through its own experience to\nappreciate something of their meaning, and, to some extent, to verify\nthem for itself; so the mind in its moral relations. Without forming\nany critical theory of the institutions and codes which are forming\ncharacter, without even considering whether they are what they should\nbe, the individual yet comes at least to a practical recognition that\nit is in these institutions that he gets his satisfactions, and through\nthese codes that he is protected. He identifies himself, his own life,\nwith the social forms and ideals in which he lives, and repels any\nattack upon them as he would an attack upon himself. The demands which\nthe existing institutions make upon him are not felt as the coercions\nof a despot, but as expressions of his own will, and requiring loyalty\nas such. The conventional conscience, if it does not grow into this,\ntends to become slavish, while an intelligence which practically\nrealizes, although without continual reflection, the _significance_ of\nconventional morality is _free_ in its convictions and service.\n\n3. _The Independent or Reflective Conscience._ The intelligence may\nnot simply appropriate, as its own, conventions embodied in current\ninstitutions and codes, but may _reflect_ upon them. It may ask: What\nis this institution of family, property for? Does the institution\nin its present form work as it should work, or is some modification\nrequired? Does this rule which is now current embody the true needs of\nthe situation, or is it an antiquated expression of by-gone relations?\nWhat is the true spirit of existing institutions, and what sort of\nconduct does this spirit demand?\n\nHere, in a word, we have the same relation to the ethical world, that\nwe have in physical science to the external world. Intelligence is not\ncontent, on its theoretical side, with having facts impressed upon\nit by direct contact or through language; it is not content with\ncoming to feel for itself the value of the truths so impressed. It\nassumes an independent attitude, putting itself over against nature and\ncross-questioning her. It proposes its own ideas, its own theories and\nhypotheses, and manipulates facts to see if this rational meaning can\nbe verified. It criticises what passes as truth, and pushes on to more\nadequate statement.\n\nThe correlative attempt, on the part of intelligence on its practical\nside, may have a larger or a smaller scope. In its wider course\nit aims to criticise and to re-form prevailing social ideals and\ninstitutions--even those apparently most fixed. This is the work of\nthe great moral teachers of the world. But in order that conscience be\ncritical, it is not necessary that its range be so wide. The average\nmember of a civilized community is nowadays called upon to reflect\nupon his immediate relationships in life, to see if they are what\nthey should be; to regulate his own conduct by rules which he follows\nnot simply because they are customary, but the result of his own\nexamination of the situation. There is no difference in kind between\nthe grander and the minuter work. And it is only the constant exercise\nof reflective examination on the smaller scale which makes possible,\nand which gives efficiency to, the deeper criticism and transformation.\n\n\nLX.\n\nReflective Conscience and the Ethical World.\n\nThis conception of conscience as critical and reflective is one of the\nchief fruits of the Socratic ethics, fructified by the new meaning\ngiven life through the Christian spirit. It involves the 'right of\nfree conscience'--the right of the individual to know the good, to\nknow the end of action, for himself, rather than to have some good,\nhowever imposing and however beneficent, enjoined from without. It\nis this principle of subjective freedom, says Hegel, which marks the\nturning-point in the distinction of modern from ancient times (Sec.\n124, _Grundlinien der Philosophie des Rechts_, Vol. VIII of Hegel's\nWorks).[2]\n\n     [2] I hardly need say how largely I am indebted in the\n     treatment of this topic, and indeed, in the whole matter of\n     the 'ethical world', to Hegel.\n\nBut this notion of conscience is misinterpreted when the content as\nwell as the form of conscience is thought to be individual. There is\nno right of private judgment, in the sense that there is not a public\nsource and standard of judgment. What is meant by this right is that\nthe standard, the source, is not the opinion of some other person,\nor group of persons. It is a common, objective standard. It is that\nembodied in social relationships themselves.\n\nThe conception of conscience as a private possession, to be exercised\nby each one in independence of historical forms and contemporary\nideals, is thoroughly misleading. The saying \"I had to follow my\nown notion of what is right\" has been made the excuse for all sorts\nof capricious, obstinate and sentimental performance. It is of such\nnotions that Hegel further says: \"The striving for a morality of one's\nown is futile, and by its very nature impossible of attainment; in\nrespect of morality the saying of the wisest men of antiquity is the\nonly true one: To be moral is to live in accordance with the moral\ntradition of one's country\" (Hegel, Works, Vol. I, p. 389). And in\ndiscussing the same question, Bradley has said that the wish to have\na morality of one's own better than that of the world is to be on the\nthreshold of morality (p. 180).\n\nYet, on the other hand, conscience should not simply repeat the\nburden of existing usages and opinions. No one can claim that the\nexisting morality embodies the highest possible conception of personal\nrelations. A morality which does not recognize both the possibility\nand the necessity of advance is immorality. Where then is the way out\nfrom a capricious self-conceit, on one hand, and a dead conformity\non the other? Reflective conscience must be _based_ on the moral\nconsciousness expressed in existing institutions, manners and beliefs.\nOtherwise it is empty and arbitrary. But the existing moral status is\nnever wholly self-consistent. It realizes ideals in one relation which\nit does not in another; it gives rights to 'aristocrats' which it\ndenies to low-born; to men, which it refuses to women; it exempts the\nrich from obligations which it imposes upon the poor. Its institutions\nembody a common good which turns out to be good only to a privileged\nfew, and thus existing in self-contradiction. They suggest ends which\nthey execute only feebly or intermittently. Reflective intelligence\ncross-questions the existing morality; and extracts from it the\nideal which it pretends to embody, and thus is able to criticise the\nexisting morality in the light of its _own_ ideal. It points out the\ninconsistencies, the incoherencies, the compromises, the failures,\nbetween the actual practice and the theory at the basis of this\npractice. And thus the new ideal proposed by the individual is not\na product of his private opinions, but is the outcome of the ideal\nembodied in existing customs, ideas and institutions.\n\n\nLXI.\n\nThe Sense of Obligation.\n\nThere has been much discussion regarding the nature of the act of mind\nby which obligation is recognized. A not uncommon view has been that\nthe sense of duty as such must be the work of a peculiar faculty of\nthe mind. Admitting that the recognition of this or that particular\nthing as right or wrong, is the work of ordinary intelligence, it is\nheld that the additional recognition of the absolute obligatoriness of\nthe right cannot be the work of this intelligence. For our intellect is\nconfined to judging what is or has been; the conception of obligation,\nof something which should be, wholly transcends its scope. There is,\ntherefore, some special moral in faculty called which affixes to the\nordinary judgments the stamp of the categorical imperative \"You ought\".\n\n     See for example Maurice on \"Conscience\". The view is\n     traceable historically to Kant's conception of Practical\n     Reason, but as the view is ordinarily advanced the function\n     of Practical Reason in Kant's philosophy is overlooked. The\n     Practical Reason is no special faculty of man's being; it\n     is his consciousness of himself as an acting being; that\n     is, as a being capable of acting from ideas. Kant never\n     separates the consciousness of duty from the very nature\n     of will as the realization of conceptions. In the average\n     modern presentation, this intrinsic connection of duty with\n     activity is absent. Conscience becomes a faculty whose\n     function it is to clap the idea of duty upon the existent\n     conception of an act; and this existent conception is\n     regarded as morally indifferent.\n\n     It is true that Kant's Practical Reason has a certain\n     separateness or isolation. But this is because of his\n     general separation of the rational from the sensuous\n     factor, and not because of any separation of the\n     consciousness of action from the consciousness of duty. If\n     Kant erred in his divorce of desire and duty, then even the\n     relative apartness of the Practical Reason must be given\n     up. The consciousness of obligation is involved in the\n     recognition of _any_ end of conduct, and not simply in the\n     end of abstract law.\n\nSuch a conception of conscience, however, is open to serious\nobjections. Aside from the fact that large numbers of men declare\nthat no amount of introspection reveals any such machinery within\nthemselves, this separate faculty seems quite superfluous. The real\ndistinction is not between the consciousness of an action with, and\nwithout, the recognition of duty, but between a consciousness which is\nand one which is not capable of conduct. Any being who is capable of\nputting before himself ideas as motives of conduct, who is capable of\nforming a conception of something which he would realize, is, by that\nvery fact, capable of a sense of obligation. The consciousness of an\nend to be realized, the idea of something to be done, is, in and of\nitself, the consciousness of duty.\n\nLet us consider again the horse-car conductor (see Sec. LVI). After he\nhas analyzed the situation which faces him and decided that a given\ncourse of conduct is the one which fits the situation, does he require\nsome additional faculty to inform him that this course is the one\nwhich should be followed? The analysis of practical ideas, that is, of\nproposed ends of conduct, is from the first an analysis of what should\nbe done. Such being the case, it is no marvel that the conclusion of\nthe reflection is: \"This should (ought to) be done.\"\n\nIndeed, just as every judgment about existent fact naturally takes the\nform 'S _is_ P', so every judgment regarding an activity which executes\nan idea takes the form, 'S ought (or ought not) to be P'. It requires\nno additional faculty of mind, after intelligence has been studying\nthe motions of the moon, to insert itself, and affirm some objective\nrelation or truth--as that the moon's motions are explainable by the\nlaw of gravitation. It is the very essence of theoretical judgment,\njudgment regarding fact, to state truth--what is. And it is the very\nessence of practical judgment, judgment regarding deeds, to state that\nactive relation which we call obligation, what _ought to be_.\n\nThe judgment as to what a practical situation _is_, is an untrue or\nabstract judgment.\n\nThe practical situation is itself an _activity_; the needs, powers, and\ncircumstances which make it are moving on. At no instant in time is\nthe scene quiescent. But the agent, in order to determine his course\nof action in view of this situation, has to _fix_ it; he has to arrest\nits onward movement in order to tell what it is. So his abstracting\nintellect cuts a cross-section through its on-going, and says 'This\n_is_ the situation'. Now the judgment 'This ought to be the situation',\nor 'in view of the situation, my conduct ought to be thus and so', is\nsimply restoring the movement which the mind has temporarily put out\nof sight. By means of its cross-section, intelligence has detected the\nprinciple, or law of movement, of the situation, and it is on the basis\nof this movement that conscience declares what ought to be.\n\nJust as the fact of moral law, or of authority, of the incumbency of\nduty, needs for its explanation no separation of the 'is' from the\n'ought' (see LVI), but only recognition of the law of the 'is' which\nis, perforce, a law of movement, and of change;--so the consciousness\nof law, 'the sense of obligation' requires no special mental faculty\nwhich may declare what ought to be. The intelligence that is capable\nof declaring truth, or what is, is capable also of making known\nobligation. For obligation is only _practical_ truth, the 'is' of doing.\n\n     See upon this point, as well as upon the relation of laws\n     and rules to action, my article in Vol. I, No. 2, of the\n     International Journal of Ethics, entitled 'Moral Theory and\n     Practice'.\n\n\nLXII.\n\nConscience as Emotional Disposition.\n\nProbably no judgment is entire-free from emotional coloring and\naccompaniments. It is doubtful whether the most indifferent judgment\nis not based upon, and does not appeal to, some interest. Certainly\nall the more important judgments awaken some response from the self,\nand excite its interests to their depths. Some of them may be excited\nby the intrinsic nature of the subject-matter under judgment, while\nothers are the results of associations more or less accidental.\nThe former will necessarily be aroused in every being, who has any\nemotional nature at all, whenever the judgment is made, while the\nlatter will vary from time to time, and may entirely pass away. That\nmoral judgments, judgments of what should be (or should have been)\ndone, arouse emotional response, is therefore no cause for surprise. It\nmay help clear up difficulties if we distinguish three kinds of such\nemotional accompaniment.\n\n1. There are, first, the interests belonging to the sense of obligation\nas such. We have just seen that this sense of obligation is nothing\nseparate from the consciousness of the particular act which is to\nbe performed. Nevertheless the consciousness of obligation, of an\nauthority and law, recurs with every act, while the special content of\nthe act constantly varies. Thus an idea of law, or of duty in general,\nis formed, distinct from any special duty. Being formed, it arouses the\nspecial emotional excitation appropriate to it. The formation of this\ngeneral idea of duty, and the growth of feeling of duty as such, is\nhelped on through the fact that children (and adults so far as their\nmoral life is immature) need to have their moral judgments constantly\nreinforced by recurrence to the thought of law. That is to say, a\nchild, who is not capable of seeing the true moral bearings and claims\nof an act, is yet continually required to perform such an act on the\nground that it is obligatory. The feeling, therefore, is natural and\nlegitimate. It must, however, go hand in hand with the feelings aroused\nby the special moral relations under consideration. Disconnected from\nsuch union, it necessarily leads to slavish and arbitrary forms of\nconduct. A child, for example, who is constantly taught to perform acts\nsimply because he _ought_ to do so, without having at the same time\nhis intelligence directed to the nature of the act which is obligatory\n(without, that is, being led to see how or why it is obligatory), may\nhave a strongly developed sense of obligation. As he grows up, however,\nthis sense of duty will be largely one of dread and apprehension; a\nfeeling of constraint, rather than of free service. Besides this, it\nwill be largely a matter of accident to what act this feeling attaches\nitself. Anything that comes to the mind with the force of associations\nof past education, any ideal that forces itself persistently into\nconsciousness from any source may awaken this sense of obligation,\nwholly irrespective of the true nature of the act. This is the\nexplanation of strongly 'conscientious' persons, whose morality is yet\nunintelligent and blundering. It is of such persons that it has been\nsaid that a thoroughly _good_ man can do more harm than a number of bad\nmen.\n\nWhen, however, the feeling of obligation in general is developed along\nwith particular moral judgments (that is, along with the habit of\nconsidering the special nature of acts performed), it is one of the\nstrongest supports to morality. Acts constantly need to be performed\nwhich are recognized as right and as obligatory, and yet with reference\nto which there is no fixed habit of conduct. In these cases, the more\ndirect, or spontaneous, stimulus to action is wanting.\n\nIf, however, there is a strong sense of obligation in general, this may\nattach itself to the particular act and thus afford the needed impetus.\nIn unusual experiences, and in cases where the ordinary motive-forces\nare lacking, such a feeling of regard for law may be the only sure stay\nof right conduct.\n\n2. There is the emotional accompaniment appropriate to the special\ncontent of the act. If, for example, the required act has to do with\nsome person, there arise in consciousness the feelings of interest, of\nlove and friendship, or of dislike, which belong to that person. If it\nrelate to some piece of work to be done, the sweeping of a room, the\ntaking of a journey, the painting of a picture, there are the interests\nnatural to such subjects. These feelings when aroused necessarily form\npart of the emotional attitude as respects the act. It is the strength\nand normal welling-up of such specific interests which afford the best\nassurance of healthy and progressive moral conduct, as distinct from\nmere sentimental dwelling upon ideals. Only interests prevent the\ndivorce of feelings and ideas from habits of action. Such interests are\nthe union of the subjective element, the self, and the objective, the\nspecial relations to be realized (Sec. XXXIV), and thus necessarily\nproduce a right and healthy attitude towards moral ends. It is obvious\nthat in a normal moral life, the law of obligation in general, and the\nspecific interests in particular cases, should more and more fuse. The\ninterests, at their strongest, take the form of _love_. And thus there\nis realized the ideal of an effective character; the union of law and\ninclination in its pure form--love for the action in and of itself.\n\n3. Emotions due to accidental associations. It is matter of common\nnotice that the moral feelings are rarely wholly pure; that all sorts\nof sentiments, due to associations of time and place and person not\nstrictly belonging to the acts themselves, cluster about them. While\nthis is true, we should not forget the great difficulty there is in\nmarking off any associations as _wholly_ external to the nature of\nthe act. We may say that mere fear of punishment is such a wholly\nexternal feeling, having no place in moral emotion. Yet it may be\ndoubted whether there is any feeling that may be called mere fear\nof punishment. It is, perhaps, fear of punishment by a parent, for\nwhom one has love and respect, and thus the fear has partially a\ngenuinely moral aspect. Some writers would call the \u00e6sthetic feelings,\nthe feelings of beauty, of harmony, which gather about moral ends\nadventitious. Yet the fact that other moralists have made all moral\nfeelings essentially \u00e6sthetic, as due to the perception of the fitness\nand proportion of the acts, should warn us from regarding \u00e6sthetic\nfeelings as wholly external. About all that can be said is that\nfeelings which do not spring from _some_ aspect of the content of the\nact itself should be extruded, with growing maturity of character, from\ninfluence upon conduct.\n\n\nLXIII.\n\nConscientiousness.\n\nConscientiousness is primarily the virtue of intelligence in regard\nto conduct. That is to say, it is the formed habit of bringing\nintelligence to bear upon the analysis of moral relations--the habit of\nconsidering what ought to be done. It is based upon the recognition of\nthe idea first distinctly formulated by Socrates--that \"an unexamined\nlife is not one that should be led by man\". It is the outgrowth of the\ncustomary morality embodied in usages, codes and social institutions,\nbut it is an advance upon custom, because it requires a meaning and\na reason. It is the mark of a \"character which will not be satisfied\nwithout understanding the law that it obeys; without knowing what\nthe good is, for which the demand has hitherto been blindly at work\"\n(Green, Op. cit., p. 270). Conscientiousness, then, is reflective\nintelligence grown into character. It involves a greater and wider\nrecognition of obligation in general, and a larger and more stable\nemotional response to everything that presents itself as duty; as well\nas the habit of deliberate consideration of the moral situation and of\nthe acts demanded by it.\n\nConscientiousness is an analysis of the conditions under which conduct\ntakes place, and of the action that will meet these conditions;\nit is a thoroughly _objective_ analysis. What is sometimes termed\nconscientiousness is merely the habit of analyzing internal moods\nand sentiments; of prying into 'motives' in that sense of motive\nwhich identifies it not with the end of action, but with some\nsubjective state of emotion. Thus considered, conscientiousness is\nmorbid. We are sometimes warned against _over_-conscientiousness.\nBut such conscientiousness means simply over-regard of one's private\nself; keeping an eye upon the effect of conduct on one's internal\nstate, rather than upon conduct itself. Over-conscientiousness is as\nimpossible as over-intelligence, since it is simply the application\nof intelligence to conduct. It is as little morbid and introspective\nas is the analysis of any fact in nature. Another notion which is\nsometimes thought to be bound up with that of conscience, also has\nnothing to do with it; namely, the notion of a precision and coldness\nopposed to all large spontaneity and broad sympathy in conduct. The\nreflective man of narrow insight and cramped conduct is often called\nthe conscientious man and opposed to the man of generous impulses. This\ncomes from identifying conscience with a ready-made code of rules, and\nits action with the application of some such fixed code to all acts\nas they come up. It is evident, on the contrary, that such a habit is\nopposed to conscience. Conscience means the consideration of each case\n_in itself_; measuring it not by any outside code, but in the existing\nmoral situation.\n\n     On conscientiousness, see Green, Op. cit., pp. 269-271\n     and 323-327; and Alexander, Op. cit., pp. 156-160. These\n     writers, however, seem to identify it too much with\n     internal scrutiny. Green, for example, expressly identifies\n     conscientiousness with a man's \"questioning about himself,\n     whether he has been as good as he should have been, whether\n     a better man would not have acted otherwise than he has\n     done\" (p. 323). He again speaks of it as \"comparison of\n     our own practice, as we know it on the inner side in\n     relation to the motives and character which it expresses,\n     with an ideal of virtue\". The first definition seems to be\n     misleading. Questioning as to whether the end adopted was\n     what it should have been, _i. e._, whether the analysis\n     of the situation was correctly performed, may be of great\n     service in aiding future decisions, but questioning\n     regarding the purity of one's own 'motive' does not seem of\n     much avail. In a man upon the whole good, such questioning\n     is apt to be paralyzing. The energy that should go to\n     conduct goes to anxiety about one's conduct. It is the view\n     of goodness as directed mainly towards one's own private\n     motives, which has led such writers as Henry James, Sr.,\n     and Mr. Hinton, to conceive of 'morality', the struggle\n     for goodness, to be in essence bad. They conceived of\n     the struggle for 'private goodness' as no different from\n     the struggle for private pleasure, although likely, of\n     course, to lead to better things. Nor in a bad man is such\n     scrutiny of 'motive', as apart from objective end, of much\n     value. The bad man is generally aware of the badness of\n     his motive without much close examination. The truth aimed\n     at by Green is, I think, amply covered by recognizing that\n     conscientiousness as a constant will to know what should\n     be, and to readjust conduct to meet the new insight, is the\n     spring of the moral life.\n\n\nLXIV.\n\nMoral Commands, Rules and Systems.\n\nWhat is the part played by specific commands and by general rules\nin the examination of conduct by conscience? We should note, in the\nfirst place, that commands are not rules, and rules are not commands.\nA command, to be a command, must be specific and individual. It must\nrefer to time, place and circumstance. 'Thou shalt do no murder' is\nnot strictly speaking a command, for it allows questioning as to what\nis murder. Is killing in war murder? Is the hanging of criminals\nmurder? Is taking life in self-defense murder? Regarded simply as a\ncommand, this command would be 'void for uncertainty'. A true command\nis a specific injunction of one person to another to do or not to do\na stated thing or things. Under what conditions do commands play a\npart in moral conduct? In cases where the intelligence of the agent is\nso undeveloped that he cannot realize for himself the situation and\nsee the act required, and when a part of the agent's environment is\nconstituted by others who have such required knowledge, there _is_ a\nmoral element in command and in obedience.\n\nThis explains the moral responsibility of parents to children and of\nchildren to parents. The soldier, too, in recognizing a general's\ncommand, is recognizing the situation as it exists for him. Were there\nsimply superior force on one side, and fear on the other, the relation\nwould be an immoral one. It is implied, of course, in such an instance\nas the parents' command, that it be so directed as to enable the child\nmore and more to dispense with it--that is, that it be of such a\ncharacter as to give the child insight into the situation for himself.\nHere is the transition from a command to a rule.\n\nA rule does not tell what to do or what to leave undone. The Golden\nRule, for example, does not tell me how to act in any specific case. _A\nrule is a tool of analysis._ The moral situation, or capacity in its\nrelation to environment, is often an extremely complicated affair. How\nshall the individual resolve it? How shall he pick it to pieces, so as\nto see its real nature and the act demanded by it? It is evident that\nthe analysis will be the more truly and speedily performed if the agent\nhas a method by which to attack it, certain principles in the light of\nwhich he may view it, instruments for cross-questioning it and making\nit render up its meaning. Moral rules perform this service. While the\nGolden Rule does not of itself give one jot of information as to what I\nshould do in a given case, it does, if accepted, immensely simplify the\nsituation. Without it I should perhaps have to act blindly; with it the\nquestion comes to this: What should I, under the given circumstances,\nlike to have done to me? This settled, the whole question of what\nshould be done is settled.\n\nIt is obvious, then, that the value of a moral rule depends upon\nits potency in revealing the inner spirit and reality of individual\ndeeds. Rules in the negative form, rules whose application is limited\nin scope because of an attempt to be specific, are midway between\ncommands proper and rules. The Golden Rule, on the other hand, is\npositive, and not attempting to define any specific act, covers in\nits range all relations of man to man. It is indeed only a concrete\nand forcible statement of the ethical principle itself, the idea of a\ncommon good, or of a community of persons. This is also a convenient\nplace for considering the practical value of ethical systems. We have\nalready seen that no system can attempt to tell what in particular\nshould be done. The principle of a system, however, may be of some aid\nin analyzing a specific case. In this way, a system may be regarded\nas a highly generalized rule. It attempts to state some fundamental\nprinciple which lies at the basis of moral conduct. So far as it\nsucceeds in doing this, there is the possibility of its practical\napplication in particular cases, although, of course, the mediate rules\nmust continue to be the working tools of mankind--on account of their\ndecided concrete character, and because they have themselves taken\nshape under the pressure of practice rather than of more theoretical\nneeds.\n\n\nLXV.\n\nDevelopment of Moral Ideals.\n\nThus far we have been speaking of conscience mainly as to its method of\nworking. We have now to speak more definitely of its content, or of the\ndevelopment of ideals of action.\n\nIt is of the very nature of moral conduct to be progressive. Permanence\nof _specific_ ideals means moral death. We say that truth-telling,\ncharity, loyalty, temperance, have always been moral ends and while\nthis is true, the statement as ordinarily made is apt to hide from us\nthe fact that the content of the various ideals (what is _meant_ by\ntemperance, etc.) has been constantly changing, and this of necessity.\nThe realization of moral ends must bring about a changed situation,\nso that the repetition of the same ends would no longer satisfy. This\nprogress has two sides: the satisfaction of wants leads to a larger\nview of what satisfaction really is, _i. e._, to the creation of new\ncapacities and wants; while adjustment to the environment creates wider\nand more complex social relationships.\n\nLet the act be one of intelligence. Some new fact or law is discovered.\nOn one hand, this discovery may arouse a hitherto comparatively\ndormant mind; it may suggest the possession of capacities previously\nlatent; it may stimulate mental activity and create a thirst for\nexpanding knowledge. This readjustment of intellectual needs and\npowers may be comparatively slight, or it may amount, as it has with\nmany a young person, to a revolution. On the other hand, the new\nfact changes the intellectual outlook, the mental horizon, and, by\ntransforming somewhat the relations of things, demands new conduct.\nAll this, even when the growth of knowledge concerns only the physical\nworld. But development of insight into social needs and affairs has a\nlarger and more direct progressive influence. The social world exists\nspiritually, as conceived, and a new conception of it, new perception\nof its scope and bearings, is, perforce, a change of that world. And\nthus it is with the satisfaction of the human want of knowledge, that\npatience, courage, self-respect, humility, benevolence, all change\ncharacter. When, for example, psychology has given an increase of\nknowledge regarding men's motives, political economy an increase of\nknowledge regarding men's wants, when historical knowledge has added\nits testimony regarding the effects of indiscriminate giving, charity\nmust change its content. While once, the mere supplying of food or\nmoney by one to another may have been right as meeting the recognized\nrelations, charity now comes to mean large responsibility in knowledge\nof antecedents and circumstances, need of organization, careful tracing\nof consequences, and, above all, effort to remove the conditions which\nmade the want possible. The activity involved has infinitely widened.\n\nLet the act be in the region of industrial life--a new invention. The\ninvention of the telephone does not simply satisfy an old want--it\ncreates new. It brings about the possibility of closer social\nrelations, extends the distribution of intelligence, facilitates\ncommerce. It is a common saying that the luxury of one generation\nis the necessity of the next; that is to say, what once satisfied a\nsomewhat remote need becomes in time the basis upon which new needs\ngrow up. Energy previously pent up is set free, new power and ideals\nare evoked. Consider again a person assuming a family relation. This\nseems, at first, to consist mainly in the satisfaction of certain\ncommon and obvious human wants. But this satisfaction, if moral,\nturns out rather to be the creation of new insight into life, of new\nrelationships, and thus of new energies and ideals. We may generalize\nthese instances. The secret of the moral life is not getting or having,\nit is doing and thus being. The getting and the possessing side of life\nhas a moral value only when it is made the stimulus and nutriment of\nnew and wider acting. To solve the equation between getting and doing\nis the moral problem of life. Let the possession be acquiesced in for\nits own sake, and not as the way to freer (and thus more moral) action,\nand the selfish life has set in (see Sec. LXVII). It is essential to\nmoral activity that it feed itself into larger appetites and thus into\nlarger life.\n\n     This must not be taken to deny that there is a mechanical\n     side even to the moral life. A merchant, for example, may\n     do the same thing over and over again, like going to his\n     business every morning at the same hour. This is a moral\n     act and yet it does not seem to lead to a change in moral\n     wants or surroundings. Yet even in such cases it should\n     be noted that it is only outwardly that the act is the\n     _same_. In itself, that is, in its relation to the will\n     of the agent, it is simply one element in the whole of\n     character; and as character opens up, the act must change\n     somewhat also. It is performed somehow in a new spirit. If\n     this is not to some extent true, if such acts become wholly\n     mechanical, the moral life is hardening into the rigidity\n     of death.\n\nThis progressive development consists on one side in a richer and\nsubtler individual activity, in increased individualization, in wider\nand freer functions of life; on the other it consists in increase in\nnumber of those persons whose ideal is a 'common good', or who have\nmembership in the same moral community; and, further, it consists in\nmore complex relations between them. It is both intensive and extensive.\n\nHistory is one record of growth in the sense of specific powers.\nIts track is marked by the appearance of more and more internal and\ndistinguishing traits; of new divisions of labor and corresponding\nfreedom in functioning. It begins with groups in which everything\nis massed, and the good is common only in the sense of being\nundifferentiated for all. It progresses with the evolution of\nindividuality, of the peculiar gifts entrusted to each, and hence of\nthe specific service demanded of each.\n\nThe other side, the enlargement of the community of ends, has been\ntermed growth in \"comprehensiveness\". History is again a record of\nthe widening of the social consciousness--of the range of persons\nwhose interests have to be taken into account in action. There has\nbeen a period in which the community was nothing more than a man's\nown immediate family group, this enlarging to the clan, the city,\nthe social class, the nation; until now, in theory, the community of\ninterests and ends is humanity itself.\n\nThis growth in comprehensiveness is not simply a growth in the number\nof persons having a common end. The quantitative growth reacts upon\nthe _nature_ of the ends themselves. For example, when the conceived\ncommunity is small, bravery may consist mainly in willingness to fight\nfor the recognized community against other hostile groups. As these\ngroups become themselves included in the moral community, courage must\nchange its form, and become resoluteness and integrity of purpose in\ndefending manhood and humanity as such. That is to say, as long as\nthe community is based largely upon physical facts, like oneness of\nblood, of territory, etc., the ideal of courage will have a somewhat\nexternal and physical manifestation. Let the community be truly\nspiritual, consisting in recognition of unity of destiny and function\nin co\u00f6peration toward an all-inclusive life, and the ideal of courage\nbecomes more internal and spiritual, consisting in loyalty to the\npossibilities of humanity, whenever and wherever found.\n\n     On this development of moral ideals, and especially of\n     the growth in \"comprehensiveness\" as reacting upon the\n     intrinsic form which the ideal itself takes, see Green, Op.\n     cit., pp. 264-308, followed by Alexander, Op. cit., pp.\n     384-398. For the process of change of ideals in general,\n     see Alexander, pp. 271-292, and 369-371.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.--THE MORAL STRUGGLE OR THE REALIZING OF IDEALS.\n\n\nLXVI.\n\nGoodness as a Struggle.\n\nWe have already seen that the bare repetition of identically the\nsame acts does not consist with morality. To aim at securing a\nsatisfaction precisely like the one already experienced, is to fail\nto recognize the altered capacity and environment, and the altered\nduty. Moral satisfaction prior to an act is _ideal_; ideal not simply\nin the sense of being conceived, or present to thought, but ideal in\nthe sense that it has not been already enjoyed. Some satisfaction has\nbeen enjoyed in a previous activity, but that very satisfaction has\nso enlarged and complicated the situation, that its mere repetition\nwould not afford moral or active satisfaction, but only what Kant\nterms 'pathological' satisfaction. Morality thus assumes the form of a\nstruggle. The past satisfaction speaks for itself; it has been verified\nin experience, it has conveyed its worth to our very senses. We have\ntried and tasted it, and know that it is good. If morality lay in the\nrepetition of similar satisfactions, it would not be a struggle. We\nshould know experimentally before hand that the chosen end would bring\nus satisfaction, and should be at rest in that knowledge. But when\nmorality lies in striving for satisfactions which have not verified\nthemselves to our sense, it always requires an effort. We have to\nsurrender the enjoyed good, and stake ourselves upon that of which we\ncannot say: We _know_ it is good. To surrender the actual experienced\ngood for a possible ideal good is the struggle.\n\nWe arrive, in what is termed the opposition of desire and duty, at the\nheart of the moral struggle. Of course, taken strictly, there can be\nno opposition here. The duty which did not awaken _any_ desire would\nnot appeal to the mind even as a duty. But we may distinguish between\na desire which is based on past satisfaction actually experienced, and\ndesire based simply upon the idea that the end is _desirable_--that it\nought to be desired. It may seem strange to speak of a desire based\nsimply upon the recognition that an end _should_ be desired, but the\npossibility of awakening such a desire and the degree of its strength\nare the test of a moral character. How far does this end awaken\nresponse in me because I see that it is the end which is fit and due?\nHow far does it awaken this response although it does not fall into\nline with past satisfactions, or although it actually thwart some\nhabitual satisfaction? Here is the opposition of duty and desire. It\nlies in the contrast of a good which has demonstrated itself as such\nin experience, and a good whose claim to be good rests only on the\nfact that it is the act which meets the situation. It is the contrast\nbetween a good of possession, and one of action.\n\nFrom this point of view morality is a life of _aspiration_, and of\n_faith_; there is required constant willingness to give up past\ngoods as the good, and to press on to new ends; not because past\nachievements are bad, but because, being good, they have created\na situation which demands larger and more intricately related\nachievements. This willingness is aspiration and it implies _faith_.\nOnly the old good is of sight, has verified itself to sense. The new\nideal, the end which meets the situation, is felt as good only in so\nfar as the character has formed the conviction that to meet obligation\nis itself a good, whether bringing sensible satisfaction or not. You\ncan prove to a man that he ought to act so and so (that is to say,\nthat such an act is the one which fits the present occasion), but you\ncannot _prove_ to him that the performance of that duty will be good.\nOnly faith in the moral order, in the identity of duty and the good,\ncan assert this. Every time an agent takes as his end (that is, chooses\nas good) an activity which he has not already tried, he asserts his\nbelief in the goodness of right action as such. This faith is not a\nmere intellectual thing, but it is practical--the staking of self upon\nactivity as against passive possession.\n\n\nLXVII.\n\nMoral Badness.\n\nBadness originates in the contrast which thus comes about between\n_having_ the repetition of former action, and _doing_--pressing\nforward to the new right action. Goodness is the choice of doing; the\nrefusal to be content with past good as exhausting the entire content\nof goodness. It is, says Green, 'in the continued effort to be better\nthat goodness consists'. The man, however bad his past and however\nlimited his range of intellectual, \u00e6sthetic and social activity, who\nis dissatisfied with his past, and whose dissatisfaction manifests\nitself in act, is accounted better than the man of a respectable past\nand higher plane of life who has lapsed into contented acquiescence\nwith past deeds. For past deeds are not _deeds_, they are passive\nenjoyments. The bad man, on the other hand, is not the man who loves\nbadness _in and for itself_. Such a man would be a mad man or a\ndevil. All conduct, bad as well as good, is for the sake of _some_\nsatisfaction, that is, some good. In the bad man, the satisfaction\nwhich is aimed at is _simply_ the one congruent with existing\ninclinations, irrespective of the sufficiency of those inclinations in\nview of the changed capacity and environment: it is a good of _having_.\nThe bad man, that is to say, does not recognize any _ideal_ or _active_\ngood; any good which has not already commended itself to him as such.\nThis good may be good in _itself_; but, as distinguished from the good\nwhich requires action, that which would fulfill the present capacity or\nmeet the present situation, it is bad.\n\n     Thus Alexander terms badness _a survival_, in part at\n     least, of former goodness. Hinton says (Philosophy and\n     Religion, p. 146), \"That a thing is wrong does not mean\n     that it ought never to have been done or thought, but that\n     it ought to be left off\". It will be noted that we are not\n     dealing with the metaphysical or the religious problem of\n     the nature and origin of evil, but simply with an account\n     of bad action as it appears in individual conduct.\n\nBadness has four traits, all derivable from this basal fact. They are:\n(1) Lawlessness, (2) Selfishness, (3) Baseness, (4) Demoralization.\n\n1. _Lawlessness._ When desire and duty, that is, when desires based on\npast having and on future acting, conflict, the bad man lets duty go.\nHe virtually denies that it is a good at all--it may be a good in the\nabstract but not a good for him. He denies that obligation as such has\nany value; that any end is to be consulted save his own state of mind.\nHe denies that there is law for conduct--at least any law beyond the\ninclination which he happens to have at the time of action. Keeping\nhimself within that which has verified itself to his feeling in the\npast, he abrogates all authority excepting that of his own immediate\nfeelings.\n\n2. _Selfishness._ It has already been shown that the self is not\nnecessarily immoral, and hence that action for self is not necessarily\nbad--indeed, that the true self is social and interest in it right (see\nSec. XXXV). But when a satisfaction based on past experience is set\nagainst one proceeding from an act as meeting obligation, there grows\nup a divorce in the self. The actual self, the self recognizing only\npast and sensible satisfaction, is set over against the self which\nrecognizes the necessity of expansion and a wider environment. Since\nthe former self confines its action to benefits demonstrably accruing\nto itself, while the latter, in meeting the demands of the situation,\nnecessarily contributes to the satisfaction of others, one takes the\nform of a _private_ self, a self whose good is set over against and\nexclusive of that of others, while the self recognizing obligation\nbecomes a social self--the self which performs its due function in\nsociety. It is, again, the contrast between getting and doing.\n\nAll moral action is based upon the presupposition of the identity\nof good (Sec. XL), but it by no means follows that this identity of\ngood can be demonstrated to the agent at the time of action. On the\ncontrary, it is matter of the commonest experience that the sensible\ngood, the demonstrable good (that is, the one visible on the line of\npast satisfaction) may be contradictory to the act which would satisfy\nthe interests of others. The identity of interests can be proved _only\nby acting upon it_; to the agent, prior to action, it is a matter of\nfaith. Choice presents itself then in these cases as a test: Do you\nbelieve that the Good is simply your private good, or is the true Good,\nis _your_ good, one which includes the good of others? The condemnation\npassed upon the 'selfish' man is that he virtually declares that good\nis essentially exclusive and private. He shuts himself up within\nhimself, within, that is, his past achievements, and the inclinations\nbased upon them. The good man goes out of himself in new action. Bad\naction is thus essentially narrowing, it confines the self; good action\nis expansive and vital, it moves on to a larger self.\n\nIn fine, all conduct, good and bad, satisfies the self; bad conduct,\nhowever, aims at a self which, keeping its eye upon its private and\nassured satisfaction, refuses to recognize the increasing function with\nits larger social range,--the 'selfish' self.\n\nLight is thrown upon this point by referring to what was said about\ninterest (Sec. XXXIV). Interest is _active_ feeling, feeling turned\nupon an object, and going out toward it so as to identify it with self.\nIn this active and objective interest there is satisfaction, but the\nsatisfaction is _in_ the activity which has the object for its content.\nThis is the satisfaction of the good self. In the bad self, interest is\nreduced to mere feeling; for the aim of life in such a self is simply\nto have certain feelings as its own possession; activity and its object\nare degraded into mere means for getting these sensations.\n\nActivity has two sides; as activity, as projection or expression of\none's powers, it satisfies self; as activity, also, it has some end,\nsome object, for its content. The activity as such, therefore, the\nactivity for its own sake, must involve the realization of this object\nfor its own sake. But in having, in getting, there is no such creation\nor maintenance of an object for itself. Objects cease to be 'ends\nin themselves' when they cease to be the content of action; and are\ndegraded into means of private satisfaction, that is, of sensation.\n\n3. _Baseness._ For, when we say that bad action takes account of\nideals only on the basis of possession, we say, in effect, that\nit takes account only of _sensible_ satisfaction. As it is in the\nprogressive movement of morality that there arises the distinction of\nthe law-abiding and the lawless self, of the social and the selfish\nself, so in the same aspect there comes into existence the distinction\nof the low, degraded, sensual self, as against the higher or spiritual\nself. In themselves, or naturally, there is no desire high, none low.\nBut when an inclination for an end which consists in possession comes\ninto conflict with one which includes an active satisfaction--one not\npreviously enjoyed--the contrast arises. It is wrong to say, with Kant,\nthat the bad act is simply for pleasure; for the bad act, the choice\nof a past satisfaction as against the aspiration for a wider good,\nmay have a large content--it may be the good of one's family; it may\nbe scientific or \u00e6sthetic culture. Yet the moment a man begins to live\non the plane of past satisfaction as such, he has begun to live on the\nplane of 'sense', or for pleasure. The refusal to recognize the ideal\ngood, to acknowledge activity as good, throws the agent back into a\nlife of dwelling upon his own sensible good, and thus he falls more and\nmore into a life of dwelling upon mere sensations. What made the past\ngood a good at all was the spirit, the activity, in it, and when it is\nno longer an activity, but a mere keeping, the life is gone out of it.\nThe selfish life must degenerate into mere sensuality--although when\nsensuality is 'refined' we call it sentimentality.\n\n4. _Demoralization._ Morality is activity; exercise of function.\nTo cease this activity is not to remain on the attained level, for\nthat, _when attained_, was active. It is to relapse, to slip down\ninto badness. The moral end is always an activity. To fail in this\nactivity is, therefore, to involve character in disintegration. It can\nbe kept together only by constant organizing activity; only by acting\nupon new wants and moving toward new situations. Let this activity\ncease, and disorganization ensues, as surely as the body decays when\nlife goes, instead of simply remaining inert as it was. Bad conduct\nis thus _unprincipled_; it has no center, no movement. The good man\nis 'organic'; he uses his attainments to discover new needs, and to\nassimilate new material. He lives from within outwards, his character\nis compact, coherent; he has _integrity_. The bad man, having no\ncontrolling unity, has no consistent line of action; his motives of\nconduct contradict one another; he follows this maxim in relation to\nthis person, that in relation to another; character is _demoralized_.\n\nThe bad man is unstable and double-minded. He is not one person, but a\ngroup of conflicting wills. So far as he is really bad he becomes as\nmany persons as he has desires. His conduct cannot be made universal.\nHe always makes exceptions in favor of himself. He does not want moral\nrelations abolished, but relaxed or deflected in his own case, while\nthey still hold for other men.\n\n     This is the truth at the basis of Kant's contention\n     regarding goodness as conduct whose maxim is capable of\n     generalization. See also Bradley, Op. cit., pp. 261-271.\n     And Alexander, Op. cit., pp. 309-312.\n\n\nLXVIII.\n\nGoodness in its Relation to the Struggle.\n\n1. Two aspects of this we have already noted; one, that of\nconscientiousness, or habitual alertness and responsiveness of\nintelligence to the nature of obligation, both in general and as to\nthe specific acts which are obligatory. The other is that goodness,\nin this relation, consists in _progressive_ adjustment, involving\naspiration as to future conduct, and correlative humility as to present\nachievements of character.\n\n2. We may state what has already been suggested, that goodness as\nself-sacrifice or self-renunciation has also its place here. The moral\nattitude is one of renunciation, because, on account of the constantly\ngrowing wants and circumstances, the satisfactions which belong to\nthe actually realized self must be given up for active goods. That\nthe self-sacrifice takes largely the form of the surrender of private\ninterests to the welfare of the whole, is explained by what has just\nbeen said regarding selfishness. Self-sacrifice is not in any way the\nmoral end or the last word. Life is lost that it may be found. The\nsmaller local life of the private self is given up in order that the\nricher and fuller life of the social or active self may be realized.\nBut none the less the self-sacrifice at the time that it is made is\ngenuine and real. While it is involved in the very nature of morality\nthat moral conduct shall bring greater activity, larger life, the\nmotive of the agent in self-sacrifice is not to give up the lesser\nsatisfaction for the sake of getting a greater. It is only so far as\nhe is already moral that he is convinced that the new duty will bring\nsatisfaction, and his conviction is not one of sense, but of faith.\nTo the agent at the time of action, it is a real satisfaction which is\ngiven up for one that is only ideal, and given up because the ideal\nsatisfaction is ethical, active--one congruent to duty, while the\nactual satisfaction is only pathological; that is, congruent to the\nactualized self--to the having, instead of the doing self.\n\n3. Goodness is not remoteness from badness. In one sense, goodness is\nbased upon badness; that is, good action is always based upon action\ngood once, but bad if persisted in under changing circumstances. The\nmoral struggle thus presents itself as the conflict between this\n\"bad\" and the good which would duly meet the existing situation. This\ngood, of course, does not involve the annihilation of the previously\nattained good--the present bad--but its subordination; its use in the\nnew function. This is the explanation of the apparently paradoxical\nstatement that badness is the material of good action--a statement\nliterally correct when badness is understood as it is here. Evil is\nsimply that which goodness has to _overcome_--has to make an element of\nitself.\n\nBadness, as just spoken of, is only potential--the end is bad as\ncontrasted with the better. Badness may also, of course, be actual;\nthe bad end may be chosen, and adopted into character. Even in this\nsense, goodness is not the absence of evil, or entire freedom from it.\nBadness even on this basis is the material of goodness; it is to be put\nunder foot and made an element in good action. But how can actual evil\nbe made a factor of right conduct? In this way; the good man learns\nfrom his own bad acts; he does not continue to repeat such acts, nor\ndoes he, while recognizing their badness, simply endeavor to do right\nwithout regard to the previous bad conduct. Perceiving the effect of\nhis own wrong acts, the change produced in his own capacities, and his\naltered relations to other people, he acts so as to meet the situation\nwhich his own bad act has helped to create. Conduct is then right,\nalthough made what it is, to some degree, by previous wrong conduct.\n\nIn this connection, the introduction of Christianity made one of its\nlargest ethical contributions. It showed how it was possible for a man\nto put his badness behind him and even make it an element in goodness.\nTeaching that the world of social relations was itself an ethical\nreality and a good (a redeemed world), it taught that the individual,\nby identifying himself with the spirit of this ethical world, might be\nfreed from slavery to his past evil; that by recognizing and taking\nfor his own the evil in the world, instead of engaging in an isolated\nstruggle to become good by himself, he might make the evil a factor in\nhis own right action.\n\nMoreover, by placing morality in activity and not in some thing, or in\nconformity to an external law, Christianity changed the nature of the\nstruggle. While the old struggle had been an effort to get away from\nevil to a good beyond, Christianity made the struggle itself a good.\nIt, then, was no longer the effort to escape to some fixed, unchanging\nstate; the constant onward movement was itself the goal. Virtue, as\nHegel says, is the battle, the struggle, carried to its full.\n\n4. _The conception of merit._ This is, essentially, the idea of social\ndesert--the idea that an agent deserves well of others on account of\nhis act or his character. An action evokes two kinds of judgments:\nfirst, that the act is right or virtuous, that it fulfills duty. This\njudgment may be passed by any one; as well by the agent as by any one\nelse. It is simply the recognition of the moral character of the act.\nBut a right act may also awaken a conviction of desert; that the act is\none which furthers the needs of society, and thus is meritorious.\n\n_This_ is _not_ a judgment which the agent can pass upon his own act.\nVirtue and duty are strictly coextensive; no act can be so virtuous, so\nright, as to go beyond meeting the demands of the situation. Everything\nis a duty which needs to be done in a given situation; the doing of\nwhat needs to be done is right or virtuous. While the agent may and\nmust approve of right action in himself, he cannot claim desert or\nreward because of its virtuousness; he simply does what he should.\n\nOthers, however, may see that the act has been done in the face\nof great temptation; after a hard struggle; that it denotes some\nunusual qualification or executes some remarkable service. It is not\nonly right, but obligatory, for others to take due notice of these\nqualities, of these deeds. Such notice is as requisite as it is to show\ngratitude for generosity, or forgiveness to a repentant man.\n\nTwo errors are to be avoided here; both arising from the identification\nof merit with virtue. One view holds that the virtue and merit consist\nin doing something over and above duty. There is a minimum of action\nwhich is obligatory; to perform this, since it is obligatory, is no\nvirtue. Anything above this is virtuous. The other view reverses this\nand holds that since no man can do more than he ought, there is no\nsuch thing as merit. Great excellence or heroism in one man is no\nmore meritorious than ordinary conduct in another; since the one man\nis naturally more gifted than the other. But while one act is no more\nright or virtuous than another, it may be more meritorious, because\ncontributing more to moral welfare or progress. To depreciate the\nmeritorious deed is a sign of a carping, a grudging or a mean spirit.\n\n     The respective relations of duty, virtue and merit have\n     been variously discussed. Different views will be found in\n     Sidgwick, Method of Ethics, Bk. III, ch. iv; Alexander,\n     Moral Order and Progress, pp. 187-195 and 242-247; Stephen,\n     Science of Ethics, pp. 293-303; Martineau, Types of Ethical\n     Theory, pp. 78-81; Laurie, Ethica, pp. 145-148.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III.--REALIZED MORALITY OR THE VIRTUES.\n\n\nLXIX.\n\nGoodness as Found in Character.\n\nWe have treated of the forming of moral ideals, and of the attempt\nto realize them against the counter attractions of sensible desire.\nWe have now to treat these ideas as actual ends of conduct and thus\nreacting upon the agent. The good character, considered in relation\nto the moral _struggle_, is the one which chooses the right end,\nwhich endeavors to be better. The good character _in itself_ is that\nmade by this choice. It is good for the self to choose a due end in\nan effort caused by contrary allurements. But the very fact of the\nstruggle witnesses that morality is not yet the natural and spontaneous\nmanifestation of character. A _wholly_ good man would feel such\nsatisfaction in the contemplation of the ideal good that contrary\ndesires would not affect him. He would take pleasure only in the\nright. Every accomplished moral deed tends to bring this about. Moral\nrealization brings satisfaction. The satisfaction becomes one with the\nright act. Duty and desire grow into harmony. Interest and virtue tend\ntoward unity.\n\nThis is the truth aimed at, but not attained, by the hedonistic school.\nIn complete moral action, happiness and rightness know no divorce. And\nthis is true, even though the act, in some of its aspects, involves\npain. The act, so far as its quality of rightness is concerned, calls\nforth unalloyed satisfaction, however bound up with pain to self and to\nothers in some respects. The error of hedonism is not in insisting that\nright action is pleasurable, but in its failure to supply content to\nthe idea of happiness, in its failure to define what happiness is. In\nthe failure to show those active relations of man to nature and to man\ninvolved in human satisfaction, it reduces happiness to the abstraction\nof agreeable sensation.\n\nA virtue then, in the full sense, that is as the expression of virtuous\ncharacter, and not of the struggle of character to be virtuous\nagainst the allurements of passive goods, is an _interest_. The\nsystem of virtues includes the various forms which interest assumes.\nTruthfulness, for example, is interest in the media of human exchange;\ngenerosity is interest in sharing any form of superior endowment with\nothers less rich by nature or training, etc. It is distinguished\nfrom natural generosity, which may be mere impulse, by its being an\ninterest in the activity or social relation itself, instead of in some\naccidental accompaniment of the relation.\n\nAnother way of getting at the nature of the virtues is to consider\nthem as forms of freedom. Positive freedom is the good, it is realized\nactivity, the full and unhindered performance of function. A virtue\nis any one aspect which the free performance of function may take.\nMeekness is one form of the adjustment of capacity to surroundings;\nhonesty another; indignation another; scientific excellence another,\nand so on. In each of these virtues, the agent realizes his freedom:\nFreedom from subjection to caprice and blind appetite, freedom in the\nfull play of activity.\n\n\nLXX.\n\nTwo Kinds of Virtues.\n\nWe may recognize two types of virtuous action. These are:\n\n1. _The Special Virtues._ These arise from special capacities or\nspecial opportunities. The Greek sense of virtue was almost that of\n\"excellence\", some special fitness or power of an agent. There is the\nvirtue of a painter, of a scientific investigator, of a philanthropist,\nof a comedian, of a statesman, and so on. The special act may be\nmanifested in view of some special occasion, some special demand of\nthe environment--charity, thankfulness, patriotism, chastity, etc.\nGoodness, as the realization of the moral end, is a system, and the\nspecial virtues are the particular members of the system.\n\n2. _Cardinal Virtues._ Besides these special members of a system,\nhowever, the whole system itself may present various aspects. That\nis to say, even in a special act the whole spirit of the man may be\ncalled out, and this expression of the whole character is a cardinal\nvirtue. While the special virtues differ in content, as humility from\nbravery, earnestness from compassion, the cardinal virtues have the\nsame content, showing only different sides of it. Conscientiousness,\nfor example, is a cardinal virtue. It does not have to do with an\nact belonging to some particular capacity, or evoked by some special\ncircumstance, but with the spirit of the whole self as manifested in\nthe will to recognize duty--both its obligatoriness in general and the\nconcrete forms which it takes. Truthfulness as a special virtue would\nbe the desire to make word correspond to fact in some instance of\nspeech. As a cardinal virtue, it is the constant will to clarify and\nrender true to their ideal all human relations--those of man to man,\nand man to nature.\n\n\nLXXI.\n\nThe Cardinal Virtues.\n\nThe cardinal virtues are marked by\n\n1. _Wholeness._ This or that virtue, not calling the whole character\ninto play, but only some special power, is partial. But a cardinal\nvirtue is not _a_ virtue, but the spirit in which all acts are\nperformed. It lies in the attitude which the agent takes towards duty;\nhis obedience to recognized forms, his readiness to respond to new\nduties, his enthusiasm in moving forward to new relations. It is a\ncommon remark that moral codes change from 'Do not' to 'Do', and from\nthis to 'Be'. A Mosaic code may attempt to regulate the specific acts\nof life. Christianity says, 'Be ye perfect'. The effort to exhaust the\nvarious special right acts is futile. They are not the same for any\ntwo men, and they change constantly with the same man. The very words\nwhich denote virtues come less and less to mean specific acts, and more\nthe spirit in which conduct occurs. Purity, for example, does not mean\nfreedom from certain limited outward forms of defilement; but comes\nto signify rightness of natures as a whole, their freedom from all\nself-seeking or exclusive desire for private pleasure, etc. Thus purity\nof heart comes to mean perfect goodness.\n\n2. _Disinterestedness._ Any act, to be virtuous, must of course be\ndisinterested, but we may now connect this disinterestedness with the\nintegral nature of moral action just spoken of. Immoral action never\ntakes account of the whole nature of an end; it deflects the end to\nsome ulterior purpose; it bends it to the private satisfaction of the\nagent; it takes a part of it by making exceptions in favor of self. Bad\naction is never 'objective'. It is 'abstract'; it takes into account\nonly such portion of the act as satisfies some existing need of the\nprivate self. The immoral man shows his partial character again by\nbeing full of casuistries, devices by which he can get the act removed\nfrom its natural placing and considered in some other light:--this\nact, for example, _would_ be dishonest, of course, if done under\ncertain circumstances, but since I have certain praiseworthy feelings,\ncertain remote intentions, it may now be considered otherwise. It is a\nlarge part of the badness of 'good' people that instead of taking the\nwhole act just as it is, they endeavor to make the natural feelings\nin their own mind--feelings of charity, or benevolence--do substitute\nduty for the end aimed at; they excuse wrong acts on the ground that\ntheir 'intentions' were good, meaning by intentions the prevailing\nmood of their mind. It is in this sense that 'hell is paved with good\nintentions.'\n\nNow it is against this deflection, perversion and mutilating of the\nact that disinterestedness takes its stand. Disinterested does not\nmean without interest, but without interest in anything except _the\nact itself_. The interest is not in the wonderful moods or sentiments\nwith which we do the act; it is not in some ulterior end to be gained\nby it, or in some private advantage which it will bring, but in the\nact itself--in the real and concrete relations involved. There is a\nvague French saying that 'morality is the nature of things.' If this\nphrase has a meaning it is that moral conduct is not a manifestation\nof private feelings nor a search for some unattainable ideal, but\nobservance and reproduction of actual relations. And this is the mark\nof a disinterested character.\n\n\n\n\nCONCLUSION.\n\n\nLXXII.\n\nThe Practical End of Morality.\n\nVirtues, then, are cardinal, and character is integral, just in the\ndegree in which every want is a want of the whole man. So far as this\noccurs, the burden of the moral struggle is transformed into freedom of\nmovement. There is no longer effort to bring the particular desire into\nconformity with a law, or a universal, outside itself. The fitting\nin of each special desire, as it arises, to the organism of character\ntakes place without friction, as a natural re-adjustment. There is not\nconstraint, but growth. On the other side, the attained character does\nnot tend to petrify into a fixed possession which resists the response\nto needs that grow out of the enlarged environment. It is plastic to\nnew wants and demands; it does not require to be wrenched and wracked\ninto agreement with the required act, but moves into it, of itself. The\nlaw is not an external ideal, but the principle of the movement. There\nis the identity of freedom and law in the good.\n\nThis union of inclination and duty in act is the practical end. All the\nworld's great reformers have set as their goal this ideal, which may be\ntermed either the freeing of wants, or the humanizing of the moral law.\nIt will help summarize our whole discussion, if we see how the theories\nof hedonism and of Kant have endeavored to express this same goal.\nHedonism, indeed, has this identity for its fundamental principle.\nIt holds strongly to the idea of moral law immanent in human wants\nthemselves. But its error lies in taking this identity of desire and\nthe good, as a direct or immediate unity, while, in reality, it exists\nonly in and through activity; it is a unity which can be attained only\nas the result of a process. It mistakes an ideal which is realized only\nin action for bare fact which exists of itself.\n\nHedonism, as represented by Spencer, recognizes, it is true, that\nthe unity of desire and duty is not an immediate or natural one; but\nonly to fall into the error of holding that the separation is due to\nsome external causes, and that when these are removed we shall have a\nfixed millenium. As against this doctrine, we must recognize that the\ndifference between want and duty is always removed so far as conduct\nis moral; that it is not an ideal in the sense of something to be\nattained at some remote period, but an ideal in the sense of being\nthe very meaning of moral activity whenever and wherever it occurs.\nThe realizing of this ideal is not something to be sometime reached\nonce for all, but progress is itself the ideal. Wants are ever growing\nlarger, and thus freedom ever comes to have a wider scope (Sec. LXV).\n\nKant recognizes that the identity of duty and inclination is not a\nnatural fact, but is the ideal. However, he understands by ideal\nsomething which ought to be, but is not. Morality is ever a struggle\nto get desire into unity with law, but a struggle doomed, by its very\nconditions, not to succeed. The law is the straight line of duty, which\nthe asymptotic curve of desire may approximate, but never touch. An\nearthly taint of pleasure-seeking always clings to our wants, and makes\nof morality a striving which defeats itself.\n\nThe theory that morality lies in the realization of individuality\nrecognizes that there is no direct, or natural, identity of desire and\nlaw, but also recognizes that their identification is not an impossible\ntask. The problem is solved in the exercise of function, where the\ndesires, however, are not unclothed, but clothed upon. Flowing in the\nchannel of response to the demands of the moral environment, they\nunite, at once, social service and individual freedom.\n\n\nLXXIII.\n\nThe Means of Moralization.\n\nThis practical end of the unification of desire and duty, in the play\nof moral interests, is reached, therefore, so far as the desires\nare socialized. A want is socialized when it is not a want for its\nown isolated and fixed satisfaction, but reflects the needs of the\nenvironment. This implies, of course, that it is bound by countless\nties to the whole body of desires and capacities. The eye, in seeing\nfor itself, sees for the whole body, because it is not isolated but,\nthrough its connections, an organ of a system. In this same way, the\nsatisfaction of a want for food, or for commercial activity, may\nnecessitate a satisfaction of the whole social system.\n\nBut how shall this socialization of wants be secured? It is in\nanswering this question that we are brought again to a point already\ndiscussed at length: the moral bearings of intelligence. It is\nintelligence that is the sole sure means of taking a want out of the\nisolation of merely impulsive action. It is the passing of the desire\nthrough the alembic of ideas that, in rationalizing and spiritualizing\nit, makes it an expression of the want of the whole man, and thus of\nsocial needs.\n\nTo know one's self was declared by Socrates, who first brought to\nconscious birth the spirit of the moral life, to be the very core\nof moral endeavor. This knowledge of self has taken, indeed, a more\ncircuitous and a more painful path, than Socrates anticipated. Man has\nhad, during two thousand years of science, to go around through nature\nto find himself, and as yet he has not wholly come back to himself--he\noftentimes seems still lost in the wilderness of an outer world. But\nwhen man does get back to himself it will be as a victor laden with the\nspoils of subdued nature. Having secured, in theory and invention, his\nunity with nature, his knowledge of himself will rest on a wide and\ncertain basis.\n\nThis is the final justification of the moral value of science and art.\nIt is because through them wants are inter-connected, unified and\nsocialized, that they are, when all is said and done, the pre\u00ebminent\nmoral means. And if we do not readily recognize them in this garb,\nit is because we have made of them such fixed things, that is, such\nabstractions, by placing them outside the movement of human life.\n\n\n\n\nINDEX.\n\n\n  Absolute--and relative Ethics, according to Spencer 72.\n\n  Accountability--See responsibility.\n\n  Activity--human, the subject-matter of ethics 1 ff.\n    --the object of desire 21 ff.\n    --the standard of pleasure 45; 50.\n    --equals exercise of function 101.\n    --opposed to mere possession 209; 215; 218; 220.\n    --two sides of 219.\n    --see freedom.\n\n  \u00c6sthetic feelings--may be moral 199.\n    --see art.\n\n  Agent--moral, one capable of acting from ideas 3.\n    --see person.\n\n  Alexander, S.--quoted: on idea of sum of pleasures 46.\n    --referred to: 9; 46; 77; 111; 134; 158; 165; 202; 216; 221; 227.\n\n  Altruism--how identified with egoism 59.\n    --reconciled, by Spencer, with egoism 70 ff.\n    --conflicts, at present, with egoism 76.\n    --older moralists termed benevolence 195.\n    --not necessarily moral 107.\n    --not disguised selfishness 109.\n    --may equal charity 125.\n\n  Amusements--moral nature of 133.\n\n  Approbation--nature of 161.\n\n  Aristotle--quoted: on pleasure 18;\n      on pleasure and character 29;\n      on the mean 136.\n    --referred to: 31.\n\n  Art (and Science)--nature of interest in 111.\n    --distinction of fine and useful 112.\n    --interest in, why moral 113 ff.\n    --interest in, really social 118 ff.\n    --life an, 120.\n    --essentially dynamic 126.\n\n  Asceticism--means formalism 94.\n    --element of truth in 95.\n    --results when interest is excluded 106.\n\n  Aspiration--involved in morality 213; 222.\n\n  Autonomy--Kant's conception of justified 149.\n\n\n  Badness--of environment a factor in right action 176; 224.\n    --its source and factors 214.\n    --its relation to goodness 223.\n    --potential and actual 223.\n    --of good people 232.\n\n  Bain, A.--quoted: that pleasure is a self-evident criterion 16;\n      his definition of utilitarianism 53;\n      on obligation 140; 141.\n    --referred to: 17; 66; 227.\n\n  Barratt--quoted: that all pleasure is individual 14.\n\n  Baseness--why badness becomes 219.\n\n  Benevolence--see altruism.\n\n  Bentham, J.--quoted: pleasure both criterion and motive 15;\n      self-evident criterion 16;\n      all motives good 34 ff.;\n      hedonistic calculus 36 ff.;\n      identity of individual and general pleasure 57 ff.;\n      influence of law 59.\n    --referred to: 53.\n\n  Birks--referred to: 66.\n\n  Blackie, J. S.--referred to: 66.\n\n  Bradley, F. H.--quoted: on pleasure and desire 21;\n      scientific interest not necessarily social 122;\n      on merely individual conscience 189.\n    --referred to: 25; 26; 42; 48; 54; 91; 124; 134; 165; 221.\n\n  Browning, R.--referred to: 111.\n\n  Butler--Bishop, quoted: on conscience 167.\n    --referred to: 110.\n\n\n  Caird, E.--quoted: on collision of moral ends 88.\n    --referred to: 21; 82; 87; 91; 92; 93; 95; 109; 111; 149; 165.\n\n  Calderwood--referred to: 158; 166.\n\n  Capacity--its relation to environment 97.\n    --increased by moral action 206.\n\n  Carlyle, T.--referred to: 128.\n\n  Casuistry--inevitable, if moral end is not wholly social 119.\n\n  Character--reciprocal with conduct 9.\n    --the source of motive, desire and moral pleasure 26 ff.\n    --separated from conduct by hedonists 32 ff.\n    --and virtues 227 ff.\n    --see capacity, conduct, interests and motive.\n\n  Charity--idea of, involves social inequality 125.\n\n  Christianity--ethical influence of 224.\n    --has no specific ethical code 231.\n\n  Coit, S.--referred to: 28; 66.\n\n  Commands--moral value of: 203.\n\n  Common Good--an ethical ideal 51.\n    --not furnished by hedonism 60.\n    --not furnished by Kant 91.\n    --why necessarily involved in morality 117; 217; 222.\n    --demands reciprocal satisfaction of individual and society 127.\n    --its existence postulated by moral conduct 130.\n    --results from exercise of function 168.\n    --constituted by activity 169 ff.\n    --realized in institutions 173.\n    --development of 210.\n    --see institutions and society.\n\n  Comprehensiveness--growth of, in moral end 210 ff.\n\n  Conduct--defined 3.\n    --relation to consequences 7.\n    --relation to character 9.\n    --an individual system 133.\n    --a social system 136.\n    --how related to character 163.\n    --see activity, consequences, character and motive.\n\n  Conflict--of moral ends 88 ff.\n    --morality has an aspect of 151; 227.\n\n  Conscience--Bain's idea of 141.\n    --equals consciousness of action 181.\n    --elements in 182.\n    --not a special faculty 183.\n    --kinds of 183 ff.\n    --not merely individual 188.\n\n  Conscientiousness--nature of 199.\n    --does not equal introspection 200.\n    --nor application of code 201.\n    --a cardinal virtue 232.\n\n  Consequences--moral value of 7 ff.; 84; 114; 160.\n    --excluded from morality by Kantianism 13; 29.\n    --identified with moral value by hedonism 33.\n    --responsibility for 160.\n\n  Criterion--hedonistic is pleasure 15.\n    --criticism of hedonistic 31 ff.\n    --two ends to be met by every 32.\n    --of higher and lower pleasures 49 ff.\n    --when pleasure may be a 50.\n    --Mill's really social 63.\n    --Spencer's really social 73.\n    --Kant's nominally formal 79 ff.\n    --the real 132 ff.\n    --its elasticity 135.\n\n\n  Darwin, C.--referred to: 78.\n\n  Demoralization--involved in badness 220.\n\n  Desire--pleasure as end of 16; 18 ff.\n    --defined 19.\n    --how spiritualized 23.\n    --not purely pleasurable 27.\n    --an expression of character 28.\n    --excluded from moral motive by Kant 79.\n    --all or no involved in morality 94.\n    --relation to pleasure 83.\n    --particular, an abstraction 96.\n    --how distinguished from interest 103.\n    --opposed to reason by Kant 147.\n    --when opposed to moral action 148; 155; 213; 216.\n    --how socialized, 237.\n\n  Dewey, J.--referred to: 25; 78; 194.\n\n  Disinterestedness--equals full interest 107.\n    --an aspect of cardinal virtue 232.\n\n  Disposition--Bentham on 35.\n\n  Dualism--the Kantian 148 ff.\n\n  Duty--see obligation.\n\n\n  Egoism--see altruism.\n\n  Empiricism--Spencer's reconciliation with intuitionalism 69 ff.\n\n  End--moral: see common good; function; motive.\n\n  Environment--defined by relation to capacity 99 ff.\n    --meaning of adjustment to 115 ff.\n    --moral, exists in institutions 171.\n    --badness of, an element in right action 176; 190.\n    --enlarged by moral action 207.\n\n  Ethical World--discussed 167 ff.\n    --nature illustrated 168.\n    --relation to moral law 174.\n    --see Institutions.\n\n  Ethics--defined 1.\n    --divided 3.\n    --its object according to Spencer 68.\n    --see theory.\n\n  Evolution, Theory of--combined with hedonism 67 ff.\n    --not really hedonistic 71 ff.\n    --its real standard objective 72.\n\n\n  Faith--a factor in moral progress 123; 127 ff.\n    --in humanity, meaning of 129.\n    --why demanded in moral action 217; 222.\n\n  Feelings--natural and moral 5 ff.; 25 ff.; 87.\n    --sympathetic relied upon by utilitarians 57.\n    --necessary in moral activity 85.\n    --active, equal interests 102.\n    --moral, defined by end 108;\n      see also motive.\n    --value of 195 ff.\n    --moral, not too narrowly limited 199.\n\n  Freedom--is object of desire 24.\n    --equals exercise of function 138.\n    --various aspects of 158.\n    --of choice defined 159.\n    --of indifference discussed 161 ff.\n    --actualized in rights 172; 174.\n    --positive, realized in virtues 229.\n\n  Function--union of capacity and circumstance in act 103.\n    --freedom found in exercise of 164 ff.\n\n\n  Gizycki--referred to: 66.\n\n  God--an external, cannot be the source of obligation 149.\n\n  Goethe--referred to: 128.\n\n  Golden Rule--identified by Mill with principle of utilitarianism 59.\n    --gives no directions as to conduct 204.\n    --is a concrete statement of ethical postulate 205.\n\n  Green, T. H.--quoted: on desire and pleasure 21;\n      on sum of pleasures 43;\n      on nature of happiness 45;\n      on conscientiousness 200; 202;\n      on goodness 215.\n    --referred to: 9; 25; 42; 54; 110; 158; 165.\n\n  Grote, J.--referred to: 66; 158.\n\n  Guyau--referred to: 66; 143.\n\n\n  Hedonism--defined 14 ff.\n    --its paradox 25.\n    --confuses feeling and idea 26; 43 ff.\n    --summarized 30.\n    --all motives good 33.\n    --its calculus 36.\n    --fails to provide laws 39 ff.\n    --its contrast with Kantianism 82 ff.\n    --its treatment of obligation 140 ff.\n    --is correct in holding rightness to be pleasurable 228.\n    --truth and falsity in 234.\n\n  Hegel--quoted: on reflective conscience 188;\n      on merely individual conscience 189.\n\n  Hinton, J.--quoted: on altruism 109;\n      on badness 216.\n    --referred to: 202.\n\n  Hodgson, S. H.--referred to: 14.\n\n\n  Idealism--when feeble 128.\n\n  Ideals--moral, progressive, 206.\n\n  Imperative, Categorical--of Kant 147.\n    --of conscience 191.\n\n  Impulse--and pleasure 17.\n    --and desire 22.\n    --nature of action from 159.\n    --see desire.\n\n  Individuality--defined 97.\n    --not identical with inner side alone 98.\n    --evils of defining from this standpoint 110.\n    --made by function 131.\n    --realized is autonomy 150.\n    --realized is freedom 164.\n    --growth in 210.\n    --see freedom and rights.\n\n  Institutions--nature of 169 ff.\n    --sovereignty, rights and law inhere in 171 ff.\n    --influence of, upon conscience 184; 189.\n    --movement of, the source of duties, 194.\n    --see common good and society.\n\n  Interests--are functions on personal side 102 ff.\n    --classified and discussed 104 ff.\n    --social, involve science and art 123 ff.\n    --realized in institutions 170.\n    --their relation to conscience 198.\n    --pure, are virtue 228.\n    --the active element of 218.\n    --the freeing of, the moral goal 233.\n\n\n  James, Sr., H.--referred to: 202.\n\n  James, Wm.--quoted: on pleasure and desire 20.\n    --referred to: 77.\n\n\n  Kant--agrees with hedonism as to end of desire 79.\n    --his end an abstraction 84.\n    --his practical ideal that of Mill and Spencer 93.\n    --value of his theory 93.\n    --his theory of obligation 147.\n    --his conception of autonomy 149.\n    --his idea of duty 156.\n    --his conception of practical reason 191.\n    --quoted: on pleasure 47;\n      on pleasure as common good 52;\n      on priority of duty to good 78;\n      on good will 79;\n      his formula for right action 80;\n      illustrations of moral law 80 ff.\n    --referred to: 14; 78; 212; 221; 235.\n\n  Kantianism--compared with hedonism 82 ff.\n    --its practical breakdown 90.\n\n  Knowledge--moral effect of advance in 207.\n    --socializes wants 237.\n    --see art.\n\n\n  Laurie, S. S.--quoted: on happiness 66.\n    --referred to: 227.\n\n  Law--utilitarian use of 58; 61 ff.\n    --Kant's moral, formal 78.\n    --relation to desire 94.\n    --realized in institutions 172; 174.\n    --of the 'is', not merely of the 'ought' 175.\n    --idea of, in general 195.\n    --see obligation.\n\n  Lawlessness--involved in morality 216.\n\n  Leckey--referred to: 66.\n\n  Limitation--the basis of moral strength 128.\n\n  Lincoln, A.--anecdote regarding 28.\n\n  Lotze--referred to: 16; 166.\n\n  Love--the union of duty and desire 154.\n\n\n  Martineau, J.--quoted: on the difficulty of the hedonistic calculus 38.\n    --referred to: 42; 78; 158; 166; 227.\n\n  Maurice, F. D.--referred to: 191.\n\n  Merit--means social desert 225.\n\n  Mill, J. S.--criticizes Kant 91.\n    --his equivoke of pleasure and pleasant thing 20.\n    --his fallacy 56.\n    --introduces quality of pleasure into hedonism 42; 46.\n    --quoted: pleasure self-evident criterion 16;\n      end of desire 17;\n      on rules of morality 39 ff;\n      on moral tribunal 48;\n      on utilitarian standard 53;\n      on importance of law and education 59;\n      on social feeling 63 ff.\n    --referred to: 25; 30; 49.\n\n  Morality--sphere of as broad as conduct 2; 154.\n    --not dependent upon an individual's wish 167 ff.\n    --realized in institutions 170.\n    --struggle for private, bad 202.\n    --in the nature of things 233.\n\n  Motive--defined 5.\n    --two elements in 10.\n    --determined by character 28.\n    --never bad according to hedonism 33.\n    --formal and legislative according to Kant 80.\n    --not a subjective mood 232.\n\n\n  Norms--in philosophy 1.\n\n\n  Obligation--in conflict with pleasure 76 ff.\n    --how related to function 138.\n    --theories regarding 139.\n    --distinct from coercion 144.\n    --enforced, not created by power 145.\n    --Kantian idea of criticized 148.\n    --does not relate simply to what ought to be, but is not 151; 174 ff.\n    --relation to conscience 183.\n    --how made known 190 ff.\n    --practical value of sense of 196.\n    --must be individualized 197; 201.\n    --when opposed to desire 213; 216.\n    --the union with desire the moral ideal 234.\n    --see desire, law and universal.\n\n\n  Pater--referred to: 66.\n\n  Pathological--all inclination, according to Kant 86.\n    --opposed to active 212.\n\n  Paulsen--referred to: 67; 111.\n\n  Person--is one capable of conduct 97.\n\n  Pleasure--an element in activity 24.\n    --not the moving spring to action 26.\n    --sum of, dependent on objective conditions 44 ff.\n    --quality of, similarly dependent 47 ff.\n    --may symbolize action 51.\n    --general, a vague idea 62.\n    --fixed by social relations 65; 77.\n    --not a sufficient guide at present 75.\n    --dependent on self-realization 83.\n    --all right action involves 228.\n    --see desire and hedonism.\n\n  Postulate--moral, defined 129 ff.\n    --equals Golden Rule 205.\n\n  Problem--moral 3.\n\n  Progress--necessary in moral action 135 ff.\n    --moral, nature of 209.\n\n  Prudence--not outside moral sphere 105.\n\n\n  Reason--opposed to desire by Kant 147.\n    --Kant's conception too immediate 150.\n    --practical, idea of 191.\n\n  Reformation--possibility of 162 ff.\n\n  Relativity--of morals, means what 136.\n\n  Responsibility--nature of 160 ff.\n    --of parents and children 203.\n\n  Reverence--Kant regards as sole moral feeling 86.\n\n  Rights--exist by common will 172.\n\n  Rousseau--his influence upon Kant 148.\n\n  Royce, J.--referred to: 61; 111.\n\n  Rule--moral, not a command 204.\n    --a tool of analysis 204.\n\n\n  Satisfaction--moral, creates new wants 208.\n    --good and bad 217.\n\n  Science--nature of interest in 111.\n    --the pre\u00ebminent moral means 237.\n    --see art.\n\n  Schurman, J. G.--referred to: 78.\n\n  Self--interest in 105 ff.\n    --involves sympathy 109.\n    --dualism in self, how arises 216.\n    --knowledge of 237.\n\n  Selfishness--involved in immorality 216.\n\n  Self-sacrifice--its moral nature 222.\n\n  Sentimentality--immoral 113.\n    --escape from, only through knowledge 120.\n    --results from abstract idea of duty 157.\n    --refined, equals sensuality 220.\n\n  Shakespeare--quoted: on common good 131.\n\n  Sidgwick, H.--quoted: on the hedonistic assumption 43;\n      on utilitarian standard 53;\n      on intuitional utilitarianism 54.\n    --referred to: 14; 16; 18; 66; 111; 227.\n\n  Society--its moral influence 146; 157.\n    --its relation to obligation 152.\n    --constituted by moral relationships 175.\n    --development of, changes moral ideals 207.\n    --see common good, institutions.\n\n  Socrates--author of idea of reflective conscience 188.\n    --initiator of modern ethical spirit 237.\n\n  Sorley--referred to: 78; 111.\n\n  Sovereignty--exists in common will and good 171.\n    --ultimate possessed in humanity 173.\n\n  Spencer, H.--believes in fixed social ideal 73 ff.; 235.\n    --quoted: on pleasure as a necessary effect 68;\n      not immediate object of desire 69;\n      egoism and altruism 70 ff.;\n      on ideal man 73;\n      equilibrium of functions 74;\n      on obligation 142; 143.\n    --referred to: 16; 67; 72; 73; 74; 75; 76; 111; 125; 235.\n\n  Stephen, L.--quoted: on feeling as universal motive 27;\n      on sympathy 109 ff.\n    --referred to: 16; 25; 67; 68; 78; 111; 165; 227.\n\n  Struggle--when morality is a 212.\n    --changed by Christianity into movement 225.\n    --see conflict.\n\n  Sully, J.--referred to: 17.\n\n\n  Theory--ethical and conduct 1.\n    --ethical, sub-divided 13.\n    --ethical, not casuistry 89.\n    --value of 186.\n\n\n  Universal--a, lacking in hedonism 37.\n    --Kant's emphasis of 80.\n    --Kant's, formal 80; 85; 90.\n    --Kant's, leads to conflict 87.\n    --true, equals organization, 88; 90; 96.\n    --bad action cannot be 221.\n    --means a method, not a thing 136.\n    --found in movement of character 234.\n    --see law.\n\n  Utilitarianism--is universalistic hedonism 13; 53.\n    --defined by Mill, Sidgwick, Bain, 53.\n    --criticized 54 ff.\n    --assumes social order 63 ff.\n    --combined with evolution 67.\n\n\n  Virtue--change in nature of 211.\n    --correlative to duty 225.\n    --distinguished from merit 226.\n    --is an interest of character 228.\n    --two types of 229.\n    --cardinal 230.\n\n\n  Wants--see desires.\n\n  Wilson (and Fowler)--referred to: 67.\n\n  Will--Kant's good will 79.\n\n\n\n\nTRANSCRIBER'S CORRECTIONS\n\n\n  page   original text                    correction\n  17     endquote missing                 are one and the same thing.\"\n  20     want simply sweat-meats;         want simply sweet-meats;\n  24     so that it becoms one factor     so that it becomes one factor\n  35     unless as a sort of suprise      unless as a sort of surprise\n  38     but the the most conscientious   but the most conscientious\n  38     cicumstances were such as        circumstances were such as\n  42     sum of pleasnres                 sum of pleasures\n  47     this agreableness is.            this agreeableness is.\n  68     Science of Ehtics, ch. IX.       Science of Ethics, ch. IX.\n  74     endquote missing                 \"members of a society\"\n  83     of well as of hedonism           as well as of hedonism\n  92     without expressily giving up     without expressly giving up\n  124    ordinary chords and and tunes,   ordinary chords and tunes,\n  156    just what what morality demands  just what morality demands\n  183    LVIX.                            LIX.\n  192    seems quite superflous           seems quite superfluous\n  251    entry Society missing from index in original","title":"Outlines of a Critical Theory of Ethics","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":59113}