{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/wikisource_The_Religious_Aspect_of_Philosophy_Chapter_3/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/wikisource_The_Religious_Aspect_of_Philosophy_Chapter_3","id":"wikisource_The_Religious_Aspect_of_Philosophy_Chapter_3","license":"Public Domain / CC-BY-SA (see source)","rights_basis":"wikisource_site_inclusion_policy","source":"wikisource","source_url":"https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/The_Religious_Aspect_of_Philosophy/Chapter_3","summary":null,"tags":["Headers_applying_DefaultSort_key","Subpages"],"text":"CHAPTER III.\n\nTHE WARFARE OF THE MORAL IDEALS.\n\nSure, if I find the Holy Grail itself,\nIt too will fade, and crumble into dust.\n\nTennyson, Holy Grail.\n\nThe spirits I have raised abandon me,\nThe spells which I have studied baffle me \u2014\nThe remedy I recked of tortured me.\nI lean no more on superhuman aid.\n\nByron, Manfred.\n\nWe are yet without an ideal, and as we come\nnearer to our task, its difficulties increase. We have\ndescribed above the remarkable position in which\nevery moral idealist finds himself. He says that\nhis moral doctrine is to be more than a mere bit of\nnatural history. He wants to find out what ought\nto be, even if that which ought to be is not. Yet when\nsome man says to him: \u201cThy ideal is thus but thy\npersonal caprice, thy private way of looking at\nthings,\u201d he does not want to assent. He wants to\nreply: \u201cMy ideal is the true one. No other rational\nideal is possible.\u201d Yet to do this he seems to need\nagain some external support in reality. He seems to\nrequire some authority based upon facts. He must\nsomewhere find his ideal in the world of truth,\nexternal to his own private consciousness. He must\nbe able to say: \u201cLo, here is the ideal!\u201d He must be able to show it to us, so that we shall see it to be\nmore than his whim. But thus he is in danger of\nforsaking his idealism. His position so far has\ntherefore seemed to us an uncertain one. We have felt\nthe force of his needs; but we have not been able to\nsee as yet just how they are to be satisfied. The\nsatisfaction of them would in fact be a complete\nethical doctrine. And the foundation of such a\ndoctrine is just what we here are seeking.\n\nIt is incumbent upon us yet further to show how\nthe search for a moral ideal has in the past been\nhindered by the weight of this doubt about the exact\nrelation of the real and the ideal. The controversy\nthat the last chapter considered is a controversy\nendlessly repeated in the history of moral doctrines.\nEverywhere we find a moral ideal maintained by some\ndevoted idealist as the one perfectly obvious aim for\nhuman life. Everywhere there stands over against\nthis ideal some critic who says: \u201cThe choice of this\naim for life is an accident. I reject this boastful\nideal. For where in reality is found the firm basis\nof fact on which the ideal is founded?\u201d Then\npossibly the idealist, relaxing the rigor of his idealism,\npoints out in the external world some real or\nmythical support for his ideal. And thereupon either his\ncritics reject the creed about the external world thus\noffered to them, or they deny the moral force of the\nsupposed realities, or, again, themselves assuming an\nidealistic attitude, they reproach the idealist with his\nunworthy desertion of his own high faith, in that he\nhas yielded to realistic demands, and has founded\nthe lofty Ought on the paltry Is. And thus the controversy continues. Often it seems to us that the\nstruggle must be endless. At all events we must\nhere look at some of its phases.\n\nI.\n\nIn the days of the Sophists, Greek thought had\nreached its first great era of ethical skepticism. This\nskepticism was directed against the ideals of popular\nmorality. \u201cThey are not self-evident and necessary\nideals,\u201d said in substance the Sophists. \u201cThey are\nconventions. They are private judgments.\u201d The\npopular ideals were of course popularly defended\nagainst such assaults by the use of the national\nreligion. \u201cThe gods made these distinctions,\u201d it is\nreplied. \u201cThe gods are able to enforce them;\ntherefore, fear the gods.\u201d\n\nSkepticism had two answers to this defense. The\none answer was simple: \u201cWho knows whether there\nare any gods, or what the gods, if they exist, may\nchoose to do?\u201d The other answer was more subtle,\nbecause it really expressed in skeptical guise a new\nform of moral idealism. It is best preserved to us\nin a fine passage in the second book of Plato\u2019s\nRepublic. Here the young men, Glaucon and\nAdeimantos, confess that certain sophistic objections to\nthe reality of moral distinctions are deeply puzzling to\nthemselves. They ask Socrates to discuss the matter\nin some such fashion as to remove these doubts.\nThey sum up the doubts in substance as follows:\nGrant that the gods are of irresistible might, and\nthat they are disposed to enforce some moral law; still does that fact give any true distinction between\ngood and evil as such? For whoever urges us to do\nright merely to get the favor of the gods, urges us\nin reality just to do what is prudent. Such doctrines\nmake justice not desirable in itself, but desirable\nsolely for what it brings in its train. And thus there\nwould be no difference between good and evil as such,\nbut only between what brings reward and what\nbrings punishment. \u201cTherefore, O Socrates,\u201d they\nin effect say, \u201cdo thou defend for us justice in itself,\nand show us what it is worth in itself, and how it is\ndifferent from injustice. But put us not off with\nstories about reward and punishment.\u201d Such is a\nbrief summary of their two speeches.\n\nNo better could either the need or the difficulty\nof the task of moral idealism be set forth than in\nthese eloquent statements. How does Plato lay the\nghosts that he has thus raised? How does he give\nan independent foundation to the ideal of justice?\nHe surely felt how hard a problem he was\nundertaking. He has, in fact, attempted several answers\nto it. But the main answer, given in the\nRepublic itself is insufficient, though noble. This answer\nis, in effect, that the properly balanced, fully and\nharmoniously developed soul, absorbed in the\ncontemplation of eternal truth, cannot possibly desire\ninjustice; that only the tyrannical soul, in which\nthe desires have the upper hand, where nothing is\nsecure, whose life is like the life of an ill-governed\nor even anarchic community, tumultuous, wretched,\nhelpless before passion, only such a soul can desire\ninjustice. Injustice, then, means desire for discord, it means the victory of the desires over the reason,\nit is inconsistent with the life of the soul that is\ngiven to blessed contemplation of the eternal ideas.\nFor such a blessed soul its blessedness is, in the fine\nphrase that Spinoza long afterwards created, not the\nreward of virtue, but virtue itself; so that such a\nsoul will not do the right as a means by which it\nmay procure the blessed contemplation of the\neternal, but, being engaged in this blessed\ncontemplation, it is thereby enabled to do right.\n\nBut to the wicked soul of the unjust man Plato\nseemingly has no inducement to offer in order to\npersuade it to become just, save the eloquent statement\nof the pains that accompany injustice, the picture of\nthe warfare of desires, the proof of the wretched\ninstability and of the possibly eternal misery in which\nthe tyrannical soul must live. And thus Plato\nhimself would be in so far open to the objection that his\nGlaucon and Adeimantos had made to all previous\nmoralists, namely, that they never gave a reason\nwhy justice in itself was to be chosen, but always\nmade justice desirable by reason of the rewards that\nresult from it. For Plato\u2019s view, as for that of less\nideal moralists, the unjust man should seek to\nbecome just because, until he does become just, he will\nbe wretched. Can no other basis for the virtue of\njustice be found save this one? If none can be\nfound save this, then whenever a soul exists that\nprefers the tumult of desire, with average success in\ninjustice, to the solemn peace of the contemplation\nof ideal good apart from the satisfaction of sensuous\ndesires, for that soul Plato\u2019s argument will be worthless. Such a tyrannical man will delight to remain\na tyrant, and that will be the end of life for him.\n\nThe suggestiveness, the deeper significance of this\nPlatonic doctrine, we do not deny. But, as it stands,\nthe doctrine is not complete nor consistent. For\nPlato himself has given us as the support for his\nideal, a fact, or a supposed fact, of human nature.\nA moral skeptic will deal with it as Glaucon and\nAdeimantos had dealt with the popular morality.\nThe supposed fact, they will say, may be doubted.\nPerhaps some tyrant will actually feel happier than\nsome struggling and aspiring soul far higher up in\nthe heavens. But, leaving that doubt aside, there is\nthe other objection. The ideal justice has come to\nbe founded on a bare physical fact, namely, on the\nconstitution of the soul, which might, for all we can\nsee, have been different.\n\nImportant as he is in concrete ethical questions, Aristotle does nothing of importance to remove this fundamental difficulty, since his position as to this matter is too near to Plato\u2019s. Still less do the Epicureans, for whom in fact just this difficulty does not exist. Plainly they declare that they merely state physical facts. Generosity, fidelity to friends, and other idealistic activities they indeed regard as the part of the wise man, but the end of all is very frankly declared to be his selfish advantage. As Cicero expresses their view: \u201cCum solitudo et vita sine amicis insidiarum et metus plena sit, ratio ipsa monet amicitias comparare, quibus partis confirmatur animus et a spe pariendarum voluptatum\nsejungi non potest.\u201d\n\nThe Stoics have a new thought to offer, one that\nwould have been as revolutionary as Christianity\nitself, if they could but have grasped and taught its\nfull meaning. But that was for them impossible.\nTheir new thought, which gave foundation to their\nmoral ideals, was the thought of the perfect equality\nof all men in the presence of the universal Reason,\nto which all alike ought to conform. Everyone, they\nsaid, ought to be rational; everyone ought to try to\nextend the empire of reason. If one\u2019s neighbor is\na rational being, one can and must try to realize the\nrational in him almost as much as in one\u2019s own self.\nHence one\u2019s duty to do good to men. This duty, to\nbe sure, commonly did not for the Stoics extend to\nthe point of very great practical self-sacrifice. But\nat any rate they gave a new foundation for justice.\nOne works not only to conform one\u2019s self to the\nideal, but also to realize the ideal here in this world\nin others as well as in himself. The ideal Reason\ncan be realized in yonder man through my efforts,\nmuch as, through my acts, it can be realized in me.\nAll men are in so far brothers, members of one\nfamily, children of one Father, and so all alike objects\n\nof moral effort for every one of their number.\nII.\n\nThis thought was indeed a deep one, and if the\nStoics gave but an imperfect practical realization of\nit to the world, they prepared thereby the way for\nthe reception of the higher thought of Jesus, when\nthat thought appeared. We may therefore more\nreadily suggest the skeptical criticism of the Stoical\nthought by first looking at the well known completion\nof the notion of God\u2019s fatherhood in the\ndoctrine of Jesus.\n\nJesus founded his morality in his theology, yet he\ndid not make moral distinctions dependent on the\nmere fact of divine reward or vengeance. An act\nis for him wrong, not because outside the kingdom\nof heaven there is weeping and gnashing of teeth;\nrather should we say that because the act is opposed\nto the very nature of the relation of sonship to God,\nas Jesus conceives this relation, therefore the doers\nof such acts cannot be in the kingdom of heaven, all\nwhose citizens are sons of the King. And outside\nthe kingdom there is darkness and weeping, simply\nbecause outside is outside. Therefore, if Jesus gives\nus a theological view of the nature of morality, he\ndoes not make morality dependent on the bare\ndespotic will of God, but on a peculiar and necessary\nrelation between God and his creatures. So long\nas God is what he is, and they remain his\ncreatures, so long must this relation continue. Jesus in\nfact, as we know, gives us a higher and universal\nform of the morality of the prophets. They had\nsaid, Jahveh has saved his people, has chosen them from all the earth, has fed them with his bounty,\nhas treated them as his well-beloved vineyard, has\ntaken the nation as it were to wife. And so, if the\npeople offend against the law of righteousness that\nis written in their hearts and known through the\nwords of prophecy, they are guilty not alone of\ndangerous revolt against irresistible might, but also of\nsomething far worse, namely, of the basest\ningratitude. Their sin is unheard of in all the earth. The\nheathen forsake not their wretched gods, that are\nyet no gods, and shall Israel turn against the will\nof its living, almighty lover? The waste\nvineyard, the unfaithful wife, these are the types of the\niniquity of the people. Their sin is a miserable\nstate of utter corruption. What the very beasts do,\nto know the masters that feed them, Israel forgets,\nwhose master is not only the maker of all things,\nbut also the loving spouse of his chosen nation.\n\nThis sanction for morality, not the might so much\nas the tender love of God, is by Jesus extended in\nrange and deepened in meaning. Every man stands\nbefore God as beloved son. If he wanders, the\nFather would fain seek him as the shepherd would\na lost sheep; would fain, like the prodigal\u2019s father,\nfall upon his neck and kiss him, if he will but\nreturn; would fain feed and clothe him with the best;\nwould not forget him amid all his sins. And the\nFather\u2019s rain and sunshine are for just and\nunjust. Deeper and tenderer is this thought than the\nprophetic idea, because the relation is no political\none, but a close personal one. To be conscious of it\nmeans, according to Jesus, to wish to live in accordance with it, so as to return to the Father love for\nlove. Hence, in knowing this relation, one has the\nhighest sanction for all good acts. The ultimate\nmotive that Jesus gives to men for doing right is\ntherefore the wish to be in harmony with God\u2019s\nlove. So the Father in his holiness wills for each of\nus, and so each son, conscious of the love of the\nFather, also desires, as soon as he is aware of the\nFather\u2019s will. One cannot know of this infinite love\nwithout wishing to be in union with it. Even\nwithout knowing of the love, the very consciousness of\nthe wretchedness of the lonely, separate life of selfish\nwickedness must lead one to want to forsake the\nhusks and find the Father, even if he should be but\nthe angry Father. Much more then if one has\nfound the Father, has found him caring for the\nsparrows, and for the lilies, and for the least and the\nworst of his children, must one, thus knowing the\nFather, desire to submit to him. One is lost in the\nocean of divine love. Separate existence there is no\nmore. One is anxious to lose his life, to hate all\nselfish joys, to sell all that one has, to be despised\nand rejected of all the world, if so be that thereby\none can come into accord with the universal life of\nGod\u2019s love, in which everything of lesser worth\ndisappears.\n\nDuty to one\u2019s neighbor is but a corollary to all\nthis. In the first place one\u2019s neighbor is no longer\na mere fact of experience, a rival, a helper, an\nenemy; but he is, instead of all this, a child of God.\nEvery other aspect of his life is lost in this one. As\nchild then he represents the Father. The highest messenger of God will say in God\u2019s name at the last:\nInasmuch as ye did it unto the least of these my\nbrethren, ye did it unto me. And so each, brother\nis the ambassador of God. When Job had spoken\nof his duty towards the lowly, he had given the\nsanction for it in the thought: Did not one fashion us?\nJesus gives a higher sanction: Does not one Father\nlove you all? In the presence of the Father the\nchildren are to lose their separateness. They are to\nfeel the oneness of their life. There is no longer\nany rival or enemy, any master or slave, any debtor\nor creditor here, for all are in infinite debt to the\nInfinite One, and all in his sight brethren.\n\nThe Stoics had conceived of a common Father.\nBut they regarded him as an impersonal, all-pervading\nReason. The thought of Jesus gave to his idea\nof the fatherhood of God a warmth and life unknown\nto any previous thought. And in this warmth and\nlife he intended the idea of Duty to grow. The\nhighest principle of the doctrine is: Act as one\nreceiving and trying to return an Infinite Love. To\nthy neighbor act as it befits one so beloved to act\ntowards his brother in love. And thus is Duty\nexplained.\n\nFor our present skeptical inquiries this doctrine of\nJesus in its original form is no longer enough. For\none thing, Jesus himself did not intend it as a\nphilosophy, but always expresses it as an insight. And in\nour time this insight is clouded by many doubts that\ncannot be lightly brushed away. This idea of God\nas a Father, \u2014 it is exactly the idea that our\nphilosophy finds most difficulty, nowadays, in establishing. For many in all the future history of our race this\nidea will be harder to establish than will be the\nmoral doctrine that was deduced by Jesus from it.\nFor many who with steadfast faith accept the\ndoctrine of God\u2019s fatherhood, their ultimate reason will\nrather be that, first accepting the morality of Jesus,\nthey find it most natural to accept therewith what\nthey understand to be his theology. His moral\ndoctrine will be to them the insight, the theology will\nbe taken on trust. Many others will accept indeed\nthe morality, but be unable to accept the theology.\nIn ethical faith they will be Christians, in theology\nAgnostics. And therefore, to the philosophic\nstudent, who must prove all things, and hold fast only\nwhat he finds sure, it is impossible to take the\ntheology of Jesus on simple faith, and not profitable to\npostpone the discussion of the moral problems until\nhe first shall have established a theology. Morality\nis for us the starting-point of our inquiry. Theology\ncomes later, if at all. And, as we shall presently\nsee, the theology, if accepted, would not satisfy all\nthe questions of the ethical inquirer.\n\nYet if the doctrine of Jesus does not belong\namong the purely idealistic theories of duty, since it\ngives duty the fact of God\u2019s fatherhood as its\nfoundation, it has one aspect that would make the\nrecapitulation of it necessary even in the course of a study\nof purely ideal ethics. For, while this doctrine\nfounds duty ultimately on the consciousness that\nGod is a Father, and so on a belief in a physical or\nmetaphysical truth, still the immediate ground of\nthe idea of duty to one\u2019s neighbor is the consciousness in each man that his neighbor is his brother.\nIn the teachings of Jesus this latter insight follows\nfrom the sense of common sonship that Jesus wants\nto give to men. But, apart from the theology, the\nbelief in the brotherhood of men, in case it can be made\nclear and definite, may have just the relation to the\nidea of duty that Jesus, in his theological ethics,\nwished the idea of the common sonship to have.\n\nBut it is our present purpose to see how doubt\nfollows the track of the moral idealists. And to\ncarry out even here this purpose, it is very important\nto note that however much the morality of Jesus\nseems to rest upon his theology, and did, for him, rest\nupon that theology, for us that basis would be of\nitself insufficient, even if we could unhesitatingly\naccept the theology. For the skeptical question might\narise in the inquiries of the philosopher, to whom all\nquestions are allowed. Why is it evident that one\nought to return the Father\u2019s love? Granting the\nfact of this love, how does it establish the ideal?\nAnd this question, easy as seems the answer of it\nto a believer, is just the question that the \u201calmost\npersuaded\u201d of all times have been disposed to ask.\nAny particular individual may believe in the\ntheology of Jesus, and yet fail to feel the force of the\nmoral doctrine. Why does this love constrain me?\nhe may say. In fact the church has always found\nit necessary to construct for itself a process, or even\na series of processes, through which the unbeliever\nmust go, in order to reach the point of development\nwhere he could begin to feel the constraining force\nof the divine love. It has been recognized as a fact that the unregenerate could believe and even tremble\nand yet remain unregenerate. The saving faith\nwas seen to be not identical with the mere belief in\nGod as Father. For the saving faith, divine grace\nwas necessary, adding to the unregenerate recognition\nof the bare truth the devotion of the loving\nchild of God. And therefore the church has never\nbeen content with the doctrine of Jesus in its\nundeveloped simplicity.\n\nBut if all this is so, then for us the morality of\nJesus, considered as morality, is founded, not on the\ntheological theory alone, but also on a peculiar insight\nthat each man is to have into the duty of returning\nthe divine love. That the divine love is real, gives a\nbasis for all duty in case and only in case one first\nsees that it is one\u2019s duty to return the divine love.\nAnd wherein is this insight as such any clearer than\nthe direct insight into the duty of loving one\u2019s\nneighbor? If a man loves not his brother whom he has\nseen, how shall he love God whom he has not seen?\nIs not the duty of gratitude first evident, if at all, in\nman\u2019s relations to his fellows? Is not love given first\nas a duty to one\u2019s companions, and only secondarily\nas a duty to God, and then only in case one believes\nin God? In other words, are we not here, as in the\ndiscussion with the realist at the outset, led to the\nview that not a physical doctrine, nor yet even the\nsublimest metaphysical doctrine, as such, but only an\nethical doctrine, can be at the base of a system of\nethics? The doctrine that God loves us is a\nfoundation for duty only by virtue of the recognition of\none yet more fundamental moral principle, the doctrine that unearned love ought to be gratefully\nreturned. And for this principle theology as such\ngives no foundation. But on the other hand, upon\nwhat should the ideal principle itself be founded?\nWhy is unearned love to be gratefully returned? Is\nthis principle founded once more on some doctrine\nof the constitution of human nature? The same\nobjection would again appear. A physical fact is no\nideal. So, then, this insight is just an insight, the\nacceptance of an ideal wholly for its own sake? But\nthen returns the old objection. What is such an\nunfounded ideal but the individual caprice of\nsomebody? Let the faithful be never so devoted; still\nthere are the unregenerate, who are somehow to be\nconvinced of a truth that they do not recognize. And\nhow are they convinced, if at all? Not by showing\nthem the facts, which they have already known\nwithout conviction; but by arousing in them a new\nfeeling, namely, gratitude. Thus the Christian ideal\nseems to have for its sole theoretical foundation the\nphysical fact that man often feels gratitude. It is true\nthat no one can accuse Jesus of expressly giving this\nor any other theoretical foundation to his doctrine.\nHe was necessarily wholly free from the theoretical\naim in his dealings with the people. But for us now\nthe point is the theoretical point. If the foundation\nof Christian ethics as popularly understood be not\nthe physical fact of the Father\u2019s love, then is it not\njust the physical fact of the frequent existence of\ngratitude? And is either of these a satisfactory\nfoundation for an ethical theory as such? Nay, if\nChristian ethics be the highest from the practical point of view, still must we not dig much deeper to find the\ntheoretical foundation on which this glorious\nstructure rests?\n\nIII.\n\nWe have been seeking to illustrate our\nfundamental difficulty in ethics, \u2014 one that is too\nfrequently concealed by rhetorical devices. The\nuncertainty here illustrated results from the difficulty\nof giving any reason for the choice of a moral ideal.\nSingle acts are judged by the ideal; but who shall\njudge the judge himself? Some one, as Plato, or\nsome Stoic, or Jesus, gives us a moral ideal. If we\nare of his followers, the personal influence of the\nMaster is enough. Then we say: \u201cI take this to be\nmy guide,\u201d and our moral doctrine is founded. But\nif we are not of the faithful, then we ask for proof.\nThe doctrine says: \u201cBehold the perfect Life, or the\neternal Ideas, or the course of Nature, or the will of\nGod, or the love of the Father. To look on those\nrealities is to understand our ideal. If you remember\nthose truths, you will hesitate not to do as we\nsay.\u201d But still the doubter may be unwilling to\nsubmit. He may say to Plato: \u201cThe tyrant is easy\nto find who will laugh at you when you talk of the\npeace of philosophic contemplation, who will insist\nthat his life of conflict and of danger is fuller and\nsweeter in its lurid contrasts and in its ecstasies of\nsensuous bliss, than are all your pale, stupid joys of\nblank contemplation. And if the tyrant says so,\nwho shall decide against him? Has not many a\nman turned with eagerness from the dull life of the thinker, once for a while endured, to the richer joys\nand sorrows of the man of the world? Have not\nsuch men actually held the pleasures of life, however\ndearly bought, to be better than the superhuman\ncalm of your philosophic ideal?\u201d Even so to the\nStoic, the objector may say: \u201cGranted that your\neternal Reason does pervade all things and is our\ncommon Father, why should that cause me, who am\none of his creatures, to do otherwise than I like?\nWho can escape from his presence? Even if I live\nirrationally, am I not still part of the Universal\nReason? The bare fact that there is an Eternal\nWisdom does not make clear to me that I must\nneeds be very wise. My destiny may be the destiny\nof a being made solely to enjoy himself.\u201d And, to\nthe Christian doctrine, the skeptic may oppose the\nobjection that if the truth does not at once\nspiritually convert all who know it, the proof is still lacking\nthat the Christian Ideal actually appeals to all\npossible natures. \u201cIf I feel not the love of God,\u201d the\nobjector will say, \u201chow prove to me that I ought to\nfeel it?\u201d Or, as human nature so often questions:\n\u201cWhy must I be loving and unselfish?\u201d\n\nNow, the simple, practical way of dealing with all\nsuch objectors is to anathematize them at once. Of\ncourse, from the point of view of any assumed ideal,\nthe anathema may be well founded. \u201cIf you do not\nas I command,\u201d so says any moral ideal, \u201cI\ncondemn you as an evil-doer.\u201d \u201cHe that believeth not\nshall be damned.\u201d But anathemas are not\narguments. To resort to them is to give up theoretic\nethics. We who are considering, not whom we shall practically condemn, but what we can say in favor\nof any moral theory, must be unwilling to be put off\nwith mere oratorical persuasion, or to mistake\npractical adhesion for theoretical conviction. We want\na code that shall seem not only admirable, but, if so\nit may be, demonstrable.\n\nSuch objections, then, blocking the path of our\nidealist, what is he to do with them? Is there any\ndirection in which he can successfully seek a\nfoundation for his ideals?\n\nWe have, indeed, much seeking yet to do ere we\ncan find the right direction. For, in the next place,\nwe shall have to show how just such objections as\nwe have applied to other ethical doctrines will apply\nto all those doctrines that put the basis of morals in\nthe often-used mass of instincts called Conscience.\nConscience undoubtedly expresses the results of\ncivilized ancestry and training. It no doubt must\nalways prove an indispensable aid in making practical\nmoral decisions; but if it be used to give a\ntheoretical basis to ethics, one can say of it what has\nbeen already said of other realities. Its universal\nand uniform presence among men can be doubted,\nand its value where it is present can be called in\nquestion whenever it is employed to give a basis for\nethics; since as a mere physical fact of the constitution\nof human nature, conscience is not yet an ideal,\nnor an obvious foundation for an ideal. Both of\nthese objections have been frequently urged. Let\n\nus venture to repeat the old story.\nIV.\n\nInstincts in general are useful, not because they\nare infallible, much less because they are rational\n(for they are neither), but because they work quickly\nand are less capricious than are our less habitual\nimpulses, and so, in common life, are our substitutes\nfor reason. But, in theory, no act is good merely\nbecause the instinct called conscience approves of\nit; nor does conscience in any man always\ninstinctively approve of good acts. Therefore conscience\nis, for the purpose of founding an ethical theory, as\nuseless as if it were a mere fiction. It gives no\nfoundation for moral distinctions.\n\nTo be sure, we must be understood as referring\nhere not to the moral consciousness of man in its\nhighest rational manifestations; for that there is a\nrational and well-founded moral consciousness we\nourselves desire to show. The conscience that we\ncriticise is conscience as an instinct. When people\nsay that so and so is the right because the immediate\ndeclaration of conscience shows it to be the right,\nthey generally mean that so and so is right because\nit feels right. And when moralists found their\nethical doctrine on conscience, they are in great danger\nof making their whole appeal to mere feeling. But\nsuch mere feeling can only give us problems; it\ncannot solve problems. To illustrate by a notable case:\nWhen Butler, in analyzing the data of conscience,\nin his \u201cDissertation of the Nature of Virtue,\u201d comes\nupon the fact that benevolence, or the effort to\nincrease the general happiness, is, for our common popular conscience, only a part of virtue, not in any sort\nthe whole of it, he really discovers nothing positive\nabout the nature of virtue, but only gives us a very\ninteresting problem about the nature of virtue. If\nbenevolence were the sole basis of virtue, then, says\nButler, for our conscience treachery and violence\nwould be \u201cno otherwise vicious than as foreseen\nlikely to produce an overbalance of misery to society.\u201d\nTherefore, he continues, \u201cif in any case a man could\nprocure to himself as great advantage by an act of\ninjustice as the whole foreseen inconvenience likely to\nbe brought upon others by it would amount to, such\na piece of injustice would not be faulty or vicious at\nall.\u201d Even so, it would not be wrong, he points\nout, to take A\u2019s property away and give it to B, if\nB\u2019s happiness in getting it overbalanced A\u2019s\ninconvenience and vexation in losing it. But since\nconscience disapproves of such actions, therefore,\ncontinues Butler, \u201cthe fact appears to be that we are\nconstituted so as to condemn falsehood, unprovoked\nviolence, injustice, and to approve of benevolence to\nsome preferably to others, abstracted from all\nconsideration, which conduct is likely to produce an\noverbalance of happiness or misery.\u201d Were God\u2019s\n\u201cmoral character merely that of benevolence, yet\nours is not so.\u201d All this now shows how full of\nproblems our uncriticised conscience is. It is the\nstarting-point, not the guide, of moral controversies.\nConscience approves benevolence, and it also\napproves the repression of benevolence in cases where\njustice, distributive or retributive, seems to the\npopular mind to be opposed to benevolence. And when some moralist tries to reduce justice in all its forms\nto benevolence, the natural conscience is dissatisfied.\nRetribution it approves, not because retribution may\nultimately increase happiness, but because\nretribution seems good to it. And if the natural conscience\nis again appealed to, and is at last brought to admit\nthat benevolence is, after all, really the highest end,\nand punishment only a means, then this appeal is\nsimply a setting of conscience against itself. The\npopular conscience is, as an instinct, once for all\nconfused and uncertain about the true relations of\njustice and benevolence. It is useless to ask this\ninstinct to do what the natural conditions that made\nit never prepared it to do, namely, to make a system\nof morals. A thinker like Butler, with his\nseriousness and depth of insight, defends the claims of\nconscience only by analyses which bring home to us\nthat our conscience is a mystery, and that its\nassertions about all the deepest ethical questions become\nuncertain or confused as soon as we cross-question it.\nAn instinct is, in short, like any other habit. You\nrun fast down a familiar flight of stairs so long as\nyou do not think what your feet are doing. Reflect\nupon your running, and ten chances to one you shall\nstumble. Even so conscience is a perfectly confident\nguide as long as you ask it no philosophical questions.\n\nThe objections here in question have been so\nfrequently urged that it is hardly worth while for\nthose who can feel their force to dwell on them very\nlong. It is enough for the present purpose to add\nwhat all the moral skeptics from the time of the\nSophists have insisted upon, namely, that the consciences of various men, nations and races, are\nconflicting in their judgments of acts. This objection,\nworthless when urged against a well-founded theory\nof the moral consciousness, is fatal to any theory that\nmakes morality dependent upon a particular\nemotional or intellectual \u201cconstitution\u201d of human nature,\nthat declares morality to be known by men through\none faculty or \u201csense\u201d of a peculiar character. If\nthere are many consciences, each claiming rank as\nthe true conscience, and all conflicting, then the\nchoice among these can only be made on the ground\nof something else than a conscience.\n\nThe caprices of moral instinct are not exhausted\nwhen one has enumerated, as nowadays men often\ndo, as many practices as one can find approved\nor demanded by the consciences of filthy savages.\nAmong civilized men, yes, in our own hearts, each\nof us can find numberless conflicting and capricious\nestimates of actions, and it has only a psychological\ninterest to study them in detail, or to try to reduce\nthem to any semblance of principle. Such\nconscience as we have about common matters is too\neasily quieted; and, as a mere feeling, the conscience\nthat can be called moral is not readily distinguishable\nin this, or in any other respect, from a mere\nsense of propriety, from a reverence for custom, or\nfrom the fear of committing an offense against\netiquette. That certain blunders hurt us more than\nour lesser crimes, and that our remorse for them is\nlike our remorse for venial immorality, only more\nintense, is nowadays a matter of frequent remark.\nYou ride using another man\u2019s season-ticket, or you tell a white lie, or speak an unkind word, and\nconscience, if a little used to such things, never winces.\nBut you bow to the wrong man in the street, or you\nmispronounce a word, or you tip over a glass of\nwater, and then you agonize about your shortcoming\nall day long, yes, from time to time for weeks.\nSuch an impartial and independent judge is the\nfeeling of what you ought to have done. Shall\nethics be founded on feeling, which to-day is and\ntomorrow is cast into the oven?\n\nThe traditional answer of the advocates of\nconscience, when these facts are urged against them, is\nwell known. They say, various less dignified mental\ntendencies may at times be mistaken for conscience;\nbut the moral sense is real and trustworthy\nnotwithstanding all these mistakes. Shame, or love of\npraise, or sense of propriety may pass themselves off\nas conscience; but the genuine conscience, when\nyou find it, is infallible. But we may still rejoin\nthat, if the difficulty is of this nature, the consequence\nmust be very much the same as what we are\ninsisting upon. For if the question can arise whether a\ngiven impulse in me, which I take to be conscience,\nreally is the voice of the infallible conscience or not,\nthen this question cannot be decided by appeal to\nconscience itself; since the very problem then is:\n\u201cOf two impulses, both pretending to represent\nconscience, which is the genuine conscience?\u201d And\nquestions of this sort must be appealed to some\nhigher tribunal than the conflicting impulses\nthemselves. It will not be enough to apply even\nAntigone\u2019s sublime test to the warring impulses, and to say: This impulse is not of to-day nor of yesterday,\nand no man can tell whence it came, therefore it is\nthe voice of infallible conscience. For, fine as that\nsaying is, when applied to a genuine eternal truth,\nthe test is not a sufficient one for us in our weakness\nto apply to the impulses that we find in our poor\nselves. For we soon forget whence came our prejudices\nand even our bad habits, and we can fancy that\nto be of immemorial antiquity which has begun to\nbe in our own parish, and within the memory of the\nold men. A child born in one of our far western\nsettlements grows up amid a community that is a\nfew years older than himself, and not as old as his\neldest brother. Yet he shall look upon all these\nrickety, wooden houses, and half-graded streets, full\nof rubbish, as the outcome of an immense past; he\nshall hear of the settlement of the town as he hears\nof ancient history, and he shall reverence the oldest\ndeserted, weather-beaten, rotting log-cabin of the\nplace, with its mud chimney crumbling to dust, quite\nas much as a modern Athenian child may reverence\nthe ruins of the Parthenon. A time when all these\nthings were not, shall be beyond his conception.\nEven so, if moral truth be eternal, we yet dare not\nundertake to judge what it is by merely examining\nourselves to see what customs or tastes or moral\njudgments feel to our present selves as if they must\nhave been eternal. Such absolute validity one might\npossibly feel as belonging to his mother\u2019s way of\nmaking plum-pudding. Snow, to use a comparison of\nAristotle\u2019s, is as white after one day as if it had\nbeen lying untouched and unmelted for a thousand years. And high judicial authority lately expressed\nthe opinion, a propos of a change in standard time,\nthat usage may alter itself in a day as well as in a\ncentury, and be as authoritative in one case as in the\nother. Nothing feels older than a well-established\ncustom, however recent it may be.\n\nConscience then cannot be recognized as infallible\nmerely through the test of antiquity as judged by\nour feeling. Conscience furthermore, or emotions\nthat pretend to the authority of conscience, may be\nfound counseling or approving contradictory ways\nof action. Therefore conscience is no sufficient\nmoral guide.\n\nBut even if all this were waived, if conscience\nwere in actual agreement among all men, and if\nthere were no difficulty in distinguishing the voice\nof conscience from the voice of passion, or from\nother prejudices or sentiments, it would remain true\nthat no ultimate theory of the difference between\nright and wrong could be founded on the assertions\nof any instinct. Why an individual should obey his\nconscience unless he wishes to do so, cannot be made\nclear by conscience itself alone. Nor can the\nnecessity and real truth of a distinction be made clear by\nthe assertions of a faculty that, however dignified it\nmay be, appears in the individual as a personal\nemotion, a prejudice or choice, determined by an\nimpulse in him. Even if other people actually have\nthis same impulse, that does not make their common\nprejudice necessary or rational. Conscience, if\nuniversal, would still be only a physical fact. If there\nare actually no differences among various consciences, it is still impossible to see why there might not be.\nAnd the possibility is as fatal to the authority of bare\nconscience as the reality would be. In conscience\nalone, without some higher rational test, there is no\nground evident wherefore its decisions might not\nhave been other than they are. But what the\nmoralist wants is such a distinction between right and\nwrong as does not depend upon any mere accident of\nreality, even upon the accidental existence of a moral\nsense. He wants to find the eternal ethical truth.\nWe insist then that one of the first questions of the\nmoralist must be, why conscience in any given case\nis right. Or, to put the case otherwise, ethical\ndoctrine must tell us why, if the devil\u2019s conscience\napproves of the devil\u2019s acts, as it well may do, the\ndevil\u2019s conscience is nevertheless in the wrong.\n\nThe discussion has, we imagine, after all, a\npractical importance in a way not always sufficiently\nremembered. In the name of conscience many crimes\nhave been done. In the name of conscience men\ncondemn whatever tends towards true moral\nprogress, so long as this new element is opposed to\npopular prejudice. In the name of conscience they kill\nthe prophets, and stone every one that is sent unto\nthem. In the name of conscience wars are waged,\nwhole tribes are destroyed, whole peoples are\noppressed. If conscience is the great practical guide\nin common life, conscience is also, in many great\ncrises, the enemy of the new light. It is the\nsensitive and penetrating eye of the heart, but it is often\nblind before the coming day, even because it has\nbeen so useful to us in finding our way in the night. It ought to be a commonplace of morals that there\nare certain times when the moral reason must cast\naside the moral instinct, when the lover of the right\nmust silence the voice of conscience. The more\ndangerous such moments are, the more dreadful the\nmistakes that people at such times are apt to make, the\nmore necessary it is that the moralist should\ndiscover some criterion whereby to decide when instinct\nfails. And this criterion cannot be conscience\nitself. We must seek yet deeper.\n\nV.\n\nOur criticism of conscience is only another\nexample of the method before applied to the criticism of\nthe moral ideals. You make a distinction between\nright and wrong, you give to this distinction the\ndignity of a principle, you deduce special moral\njudgments therefrom. But then some one asks you for\nany foundation for the principle, beyond your own\ncaprice. You thereupon seek to produce an ultimate\nreason for your faith. And your ultimate reason\n\u2014 what is it but some fact external to your choice\nand to your ideal judgments? But such dead\nexternal facts were just what you wanted to avoid. You\nhad said that an ideal must have only an ideal\nfoundation. And now you say that the ideally right\nthing depends on God\u2019s nature, on the existence of\nthe universal Reason, or on the assertions of\nConscience. Say thus what you will, have you done\nwhat you intended? Have you made evident the\nnecessity of your ideal? If, per impossibile, you suppose your present physical beliefs falsified, if the\nAll-Father changed his mind, and came to hate his\nchildren, or if, per impossibile, the Devil triumphed,\nor the eternal Ideas melted away like snow, or the\nuniversal Reason became insane, or the Consciences\nof all men grew corrupt, would that alter the ideal\nfor you? If the moral ideal assumes its desired\nposition as judge of all things, then what matters\nit to the ideal if evil is triumphant in the world?\n\u201cFiend, I defy thee with a calm, fixed mind,\u201d the\nidealist will say, after the manner of Shelley\u2019s\nPrometheus, and that however much the real world\nmay threaten him. Therefore how can the Is\npredetermine the Ought to be? But if the Ought to be\nbe independent of the Is, how does discussion\nabout the power of God, or his goodness, about the\nuniversality of conscience, or its inner strength as a\nfeeling, affect our judgment of the ideal distinction\nbetween right and wrong?\n\nThus we are thrown back and forth between the\nconflicting demands of criticism. \u201cGive us a moral\nsystem that is no caprice of thine,\u201d say the critics\nof one sort. That seems reasonable. Therefore we\naffirm, \u201cThis system of ours is founded on a rock of\neternal truth,\u201d namely, on God\u2019s will, or on the\nintuition of universal conscience, or on some like fact of\nthe world. But thereupon other critics say to us:\n\u201cWherein do you differ from those who say that\nmight is right, or that success determines the right,\nor that whatever exists ought to exist? For after\nall you say, something that is, ought to be, merely\nbecause it is.\u201d And always still other critics are present, to doubt whether we are right about God\nor conscience as physical facts. Such critics very\nplausibly say, \u201cWhy found moral truth, which ought\nto be so secure and clear, on physical or metaphysical\ndoctrines that are so often doubted and so hard\nto establish?\u201d\n\nSuch is the general difficulty illustrated in the\nwarfare of the moral ideals. They want some\nhighest judge to decide among them. If they seek this\njudge in the real world, they seem to endanger their\nidealism. If they seek their judge among themselves,\nthe warfare begins afresh. For what one of\nthem can be the sole judge, when they are all judges\none of another?\n\nNotes","title":"The Religious Aspect of Philosophy/Chapter 3","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":7897}