{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/wikisource_The_Religious_Aspect_of_Philosophy_Chapter_6/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/wikisource_The_Religious_Aspect_of_Philosophy_Chapter_6","id":"wikisource_The_Religious_Aspect_of_Philosophy_Chapter_6","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_6","summary":null,"tags":["Headers_applying_DefaultSort_key","Subpages"],"text":"CHAPTER VI.\n\nTHE MORAL INSIGHT.\n\nLove is like understanding, that grows bright,\n\nGazing on many truths.\n\nShelley, Epipsychidion.\n\nWe have needed to dwell on our ethical skepticism,\nto experience the real strength of its doubts,\nin order that we should be able to get new and\nbetter methods of construction for our own doctrine.\nDeep as is the truth that lies at the basis of many\nethical doctrines now either doubted or abandoned,\none thing always seems defective about their fashion\nof building. This one defect has made us question\ntheir worth as theories. And our theoretical doubt,\nas we dwelt upon it, has become practical. We\nhave seen how this ethical skepticism leads to the\ngloomiest pessimism. Both the skepticism and the\npessimism we must meet fairly and fearlessly. And\nwe must ask them how even they themselves are\npossible.\n\nI.\n\nOur skeptical criticism of ethical theories has\nbeen so far either internal or external. We have\ncriticised each doctrine in itself, questioning either\nits consistency or its inner completeness; or else we have criticised it with reference to other doctrines.\nIn the first case our criticism led to no general\nskepticism, and had importance only in the special\ncase. But the other kind of criticism was of more\nimportance, and took another turn. We said to\nthe doctrine: \u201cPerfect as your system may be in\nitself, your assumption of your highest end always\nfinds over against itself an equally stubborn\nassumption of an exactly opposing end. And you have no\nproof to offer for your rejection of that end. You\nsimply insist upon calling it a diabolical end; you\nhurl at it your anathema. Now we, who have\nwanted proof, not mere enthusiasm, we, who stand\ncritically before your doctrine, and view it from\nwithout, and desire to know why we are to accept\nit, we feel a skeptical indifference about your end,\nas soon as we compare it with the opposing end,\nand as soon as comparing, we find the difference\nbetween them to be one that rests, not on demonstrable\ntruth, but on a mere kind of caprice. Practically\nwe may agree with you in choosing, as men\nof action, your aim. Our personal caprice may\nagree with yours. But theoretically we cannot\njustify this aim. We find, in all that you say, no\nobjective moral truth, but only somebody\u2019s capricious\nresolution. And even if we chance to accept your\nresolution, who knows when we shall change our\nminds, and begin acting in some new way, so that\nwhat we now call good shall be called evil? In\nbrief, if there is to be possible anything more than\nmoral preaching, if there is to be anything worthy\nof the name of demonstrated moral doctrine, then all your discussion must lead to something not\ndependent on the bare choice of individual moral\nagents. But in truth what you give us is just the\nfact of your choice. And hence it is that we are\nskeptics.\u201d\n\nWhat does this our skepticism mean? Unreflective,\nself-satisfied skepticism always means mental\ndeath; but in self-critical skepticism, observant of\nitself as of everything else, moves the very life-blood\nof philosophy. And of this the whole of the present\nbook will try to be an illustration. Just here, therefore,\nwe want to be as watchful of our skepticism as\nwe were of the systems whose theoretical weakness\nled us hither. What is the sense of this theoretical\nskepticism of our present attitude? On our reply\nall else turns. And our reply is: This skepticism\nexpresses an indifference that we feel when we\ncontemplate two opposing aims in such a way as\nmomentarily to share them both. For the moment we\nrealize equally these warring aims. They are ours.\nThe conflict is in us. The two wills here represented\nare our will. And for this reason, and for this only,\ncan we feel the skeptical indecision. Had we the\nwill to choose the one end alone, we should\nunhesitatingly choose it, and should not see enough of the\nopposing will to be skeptics. Had we only the will\nthat chooses the opposing end, we should feel equally\nindifferent to the first. Had we neither will at all\nin mind, did we realize neither one of the opposing\nends, we should be feeling no hesitation between\nthem. Our doubt arises from the fact that\nmomentarily and provisionally we are in the attitude of assuming both. Our indifference is not the indifference\nof ignorance, but of knowledge; not of failure\nto understand either end, but of readiness to realize\nboth ends. Hence it follows that moral skepticism\nis itself the result of an act, namely, of the act by\nwhich we seek to realize in ourselves opposing aims\nat the same time. This observation is of the greatest\nimportance to us, and we must dwell upon it. It\nshows us that above all our skepticism is the supreme\nEnd that makes the skepticism itself possible.\n\nThe ethical aims themselves are all of them the\nexpression of somebody\u2019s will. Their conflict is the\nconflict of wills. Doubt about them depends upon\nthe realization of their existence and of their\nopposition. Therefore this doubt depends for its very\nexistence on the conditions of this realization. We\nhave tried to state what the conditions are. To\nrealize opposing ends so completely that one feels a\ngenuine doubt which of them to accept, implies, we\nsay, the simultaneous provisional acceptance of both.\nAnd this may be shown in a more popular psychological\nway, as well as in a more general philosophical\nway. We take the psychological way first.\n\nHow can I know that there is anywhere a will, W,\nthat chooses for itself some end, E? Really to know\nthis implies something more than mere outer\nobservation of the facts. One must repeat in one\u2019s own\nmind more or less rapidly or imperfectly this will,\nW, that one conceives to exist in somebody else.\nAnd this need of repetition is a well-known\npsychological truth, very easily illustrated by all sorts of\ncommonplace facts. Let us refer to some of these. To think of a bodily act is to perform the act, or\nat least mentally to initiate the performance of the\nact. According to Professor Bain\u2019s now generally\naccepted principle, the memory or the conception of\nan act is physiologically connected with the fainter\nexcitation of just the same nerve-tracts as would be\nmore intensely excited in the real performance of\nthe act. Therefore it is true that to think of\nyawning is to initiate a yawn, to think of walking is to\ninitiate steps; and, in case of any excitable person,\nor in case of any momentary predisposition to\nperform the act, the conception may immediately\nbecome the act, because the nascent excitation involved\nin the conception of the act may at once pass over\ninto the completer excitation, and the ideal deed\nmay become a visible fact. Thus the excited man,\nif not checked by company, may at once talk aloud\nto himself, his thoughts becoming words. If very\nmuch excited, he may mutter to himself even in the\npresence of company. He is much more apt to do\nthis if he thinks not only of the words themselves,\nbut of the act of speaking them, namely, if he\nimagines himself talking to somebody, and emphatically\nbringing his thoughts home to that other. In\na weak state of body, this tendency to repeat an act\nwhenever one conceives it may become quite\ndistressing. To think of vomiting may mean to vomit.\nOr again, to think of laughter or of tears may in\nsuch a case make one laugh or cry. Hence the weak\nman may dislike to begin laughing, because he\nknows that, other exciting causes apart, the mere\nmemory that he has laughed may keep him laughing afresh long after the sense of the ridiculous has\npassed away, so that to begin laughing may mean\ntotal exhaustion before he can stop.\n\nImitation rests at least in part upon this tendency.\nAn act is performed, we witness it, we see or know\nhow it is done, we conceive the effort that would\nlead to the performance of it, and forthwith this\nconception becomes the performance. We imitate the\ngesture of the actor or of the story-teller before us,\nand we feel an inner imitation of many acts, even\nthough we suppress the outward signs. In general,\nfor us to realize an act means that we shall do it,\neither in outward fact, or through a nascent performance\nthat is not outwardly visible. Much of the\nrecently so-called \u201cmind-reading,\u201d more accurately\nnamed by some psychologists \u201cmuscle-reading,\u201d\nrests upon this foundation. For the conception of\nacts that are not outwardly performed is often\nindicated by slight motions or tensions of arm or of\nfingers, or of the whole body, and the muscle-reader,\ngetting some close contact with his subject, amuses a\ncompany by interpreting these unseen, but readily felt\nsigns of the thoughts of his subject. Very deeply do\nsuch facts enter into the structure of our mental life.\nMr. Galton, investigating word-associations, found in\nmany cases that the idea immediately aroused by a\nword was a sort of dramatic reproduction of the act\nexpressed by the word. This dramatic reproduction\nconsisted, at least in part, in the feeling of effort in\nthose muscles that would be concerned in performing\nthe act itself. If the momentary association first\naroused by the sudden and unexpected sight of the word involves this dramatic imitation of the act\nnamed, how much more would the thought involve\nthe dramatic repetition of the act, if one were to dwell\nupon the nature of this act, and were fully to realize\nits nature in his own mind. So much then for\npsychological illustration of the view that we are here\nadvancing. If two opposing fashions of action are\npresent to our minds, and if mentally we are trying\nto realize them both, then mentally we are seeking\nto reproduce them both. Our skeptical hesitation\nbetween them expresses our effort to attain mentally\nboth these ends at once. For what we have said\nabout bodily acts will apply equally well to what we\nusually call mental acts, and even to general\nresolutions, all of which have a physical side, and are apt\nto be symbolized by some bodily gesture that we\nmentally or outwardly repeat when we think of the\nact or of the resolution in question.\n\nBut all this is not a bare accident of the psychological\nstructure of our minds; it is a philosophical\nnecessity. What represents a Will but a Will? Who\nwould know what it is to have an end unless he\nactually had ends himself? Who can realize a given\naim save by somehow repeating it in himself? And\nso it is rationally and universally necessary that one\nshall realize the end of a moral system by reproducing\nin himself the will that accepts this end. But,\non the other hand, in so far forth as he reproduces\nthis will alone, he cannot refrain from accepting the\nend. In so far forth as he reproduces this will, it is\nhis will. And the end is his end. Therefore our\nskepticism itself was a hesitation, resulting from the realization of several opposing ends, and from a\nsimultaneous reproduction of the wills that aimed at\nthem. Therefore, as we see, absolute ethical\nskepticism would not really be total absence of moral aim,\nbut would rather be the neutrality that would result\nfrom a provisional acceptance of all the conflicting\naims in the world of action. Absolute ethical\nskepticism, if it were actually possible without self-destruction,\nwould still presuppose an end, namely, the effort\nto harmonize in one moment all the conflicting aims\nin the world of life. It would not be what it had\nsupposed itself to be. Absolute skepticism would thus\nbe founded on absolute benevolence. Its own aim\nwould he harmony and unity of conduct. But just\nfor that reason is absolute skepticism self-destructive.\n\nPossibly this result may be somewhat unexpected.\nBut did not the very pessimism of our last chapter\nillustrate it? Why this pessimism? This despair\nof life, what was it but the sense of the hopelessness\nof our task? What made the task seem hopeless?\nAnd what was the task? The task was the\nformation of an harmonious ideal of life. This task\nseemed hopeless, because we felt that the actual\nideals of life among men are in deadly conflict. Our\npessimism was after all not what it seemed to us to\nbe. It was not the bare renunciation of all aims;\nit was the effort to satisfy them all, embittered by\nthe sense that they were in seemingly hopeless\nconflict. Even our pessimism had its ideal. Without\nits ideal it would have experienced no despair. The\nconflict of aims would have meant no evil. The pessimistic\ndespair was the natural outcome of our skepticism, solely because our skepticism was itself a\nrealization of the aims with which men live, and of the\nwarfare of these aims.\n\nFrom the world of dead facts, we had said, you\ncan get no ethical doctrine. Physical truth never\ngives moral doctrine. Therefore the world of facts\nseemed to stand on one side, and the world of moral\naims seemed to stand on the other, no logical\nconnection being discoverable between them. This was our\ntheoretical objection to the ethical doctrines that we\nexamined. Separate as they were from the world\nof facts, they seemed to dwell alone, ungrounded and\nconflicting acts of caprice. Yet for them to pass\nover to the world of facts was to lose their ethical\ncharacter. But now we seek to overcome our\ndifficulty by considering, not the world of physical facts\nthemselves, but the world of ends. And this world\nwe consider, not now in detail, but as a whole.\nWhat highest end is suggested, we ask, to him who\nrealizes for himself this whole world of ends? The\nvery end, we answer, that, as first dimly seen, forced\nupon us our skeptical pessimism. Whoso realizes an\nend, his, for the time being, is that end. And since\nit is his end, he mentally wills to realize it in ideal\nperfection. But whoso realizes the various conflicting\naims in the world, his are all these aims at the\nmoment of insight, when, so far as in him lies, he\nrealizes them, and mentally desires their success. In\nproportion as his realization is or can be catholic and\ngenuine, his will becomes, for the time, these\nconflicting wills. In him is now the warfare. He feels\nin his own person the bitterness of the universal strife. And therefore it is that, in the first moment\nof his new insight, the pessimism comes to him.\n\u201cThis warfare cannot be ended,\u201d he despairingly\nsays. But has he thus uttered the final word? For\nhe has not yet added the reflection that we are here\ninsisting upon. Let him say: \u201cThen I too have an\nend, far-off and unattainable though it seems, and\nso my will is not aimless. I desire to realize these\naims all at once. Therefore I desire their harmony.\nThis is the one good that comes up before my fancy\nas above all the various conflicting individual goods\nof the various separate aims. This Higher Good\nwould be attained in a world where the conflict\nceased. That would be the Ideal World, where all\npossible aims were pursued in absolute harmony.\u201d\n\nBarren at first sight this reflection may appear.\nIt may have been unexpected, but we shall certainly\nbe disposed at first to call it fruitless. For here are\nthe aims, and they do conflict. In the actual world\nthere is ceaseless warfare. Only the wager of\nbattle can decide among the opposing ethical faiths.\nBut now, if some idealist comes who says that his\ninsight gives him the higher ideal of Harmony, then\none may reply that his ideal is, in its confessed\nnature, a mere fantasy of his benevolent imagination.\nSuch harmony never can be realized, unless indeed\nsome day, by the aid of bigger battalions, some one\nof the ideals overcomes all the rest. Yet is our\nidealist so lightly to be answered? Can he not at\nonce reply: \u201cMy Ideal is thus defined, and fantastic\nthough it be, far-off though it seems, it is still an\nideal towards which I can direct my efforts. For behold, made practical, brought down from its\nlonesome height, my Ideal very simply means the Will\nto direct my acts towards the attainment of universal\nHarmony. It requires me to act with this my insight\nalways before me. It requires me to consider\nall the conflicting aims that will be affected by each\none of my acts, and to dispose my act with reference\nto them all. It sets up this new moral principle\nbefore me, a principle perfectly catholic, and above all\nthat skepticism which we have felt with regard to\nthe special moral aims. This Principle is: So act as thou wouldst will to act if all the consequences of thy act for all the aims that are anywhere to be affected by this act, could be realized by thee now and in this one indivisible moment. Or more briefly put:\nAct always in the light of the completest insight into all the aims that thy act is to affect. This\nrule is no capricious one, chosen for some individual\nreason, but an universal maxim, since its choice\ndepends on the general realization of all the conflicting\naims of the world of life. And thus we have after\nall found, in the very heart of our skepticism itself,\na moral doctrine. In the midst of the warfare of\nindividual wills, we have caught sight of an Universal\nWill.\n\nII.\n\n\u201cBut no,\u201d some one will say: \u201cAll this is still\nmere caprice. Has it not in fact fallen already a\nprey to the same skepticism that pursued other moral\naims? For first, you have tried to found it on a\nphysical fact, namely, on the fact that only by a given effort of will one thinking being can realize the will\nof another. But does this tell me that I ought thus\nto realize the conflicting wills that are in the world?\nAnd if I do not, what significance has this physical\nfact for me? But, on the other hand, physical facts\naside, is not your doctrine just your capricious\ndetermination to respect the conflicting aims that exist in\nthe world?\u201d\n\nThis objection, if made, would be founded on a\nmisunderstanding of what we have discovered. We\nhave discovered something that has a value for us\nquite independently of its importance as a mere\nphysical fact. We set out to find a distinction between\nright and wrong. Our difficulty always was that,\nsince this distinction involves the acceptance of a\nhighest aim as the standard of judgment, and since\nthere are numerous aims possible, we always were\nconfused by the fact that among these manifold aims\nthere was found no ground of choice. For to show\nany reason why we have chosen in a given way\nbetween two of these aims, is to have a third aim that\nincludes one and excludes the other. And the choice\nof this third aim seemed again just as accidental as\nthe first choice would have been without this third\naim to justify it. Thus our original thought of an\naim, as the foundation of an ethical doctrine, had\nbeen shattered before our eyes into a spray of\nseparate possible or actual aims, and we saw no way of\ncollecting this spray again into unity. If that was\nthe reason for our skepticism, then of course\nanything more that we may say about ethics must\npresuppose a hearer who can feel such skepticism, at least provisionally. The physical fact that he can\nunderstand the nature of our doubt is indeed\npresupposed ere we can go further, but that is no objection\nto our progress. The physical fact that we have an\nintelligent hearer must always be presupposed by\nus. If one cannot feel the doubt, then he cannot\nundertake any ethical inquiry. We only say to\nhim: \u201cIf you doubt about the acceptance of a moral\naim, this that we have pointed out to you is the real\nreason for your doubt. If now you understand your\ndoubt, then you are actually in the state that we have\ndescribed above. Your doubt has in fact a general\ncharacter. It means a provisional moral skepticism,\nfounded on an insight into the conflict of aims.\nThis insight means skepticism because, and only\nbecause, you are at the moment of insight yourself\npossessed of the conflicting aims, yourself at war with\nyourself, and therefore undecided. This spray of\naims into which your first pure idea of a moral aim\nas such has been scattered, this confused and\nblinding cloud of purposes, represents for you your own\nmoral position. Divided in yourself, disunited,\nconfused, you float cloud-like and inactive, seeking unity\nof aim and finding none. But if you reflect on all\nthis, you see that in truth you occupy the position\nthat we have above described. You really have\nstill a highest aim. You seek unity. You desire the\nwarfare to cease. You have an ideal. All this is,\nto be sure, a physical fact, dependent on your\nnature as voluntary being; but it is not valuable just\nfor that reason alone, but for the reason that, in\ndiscovering this fact, you have discovered what you were seeking for. You have found that you are in\npossession of an ideal. You cannot get away from\nthat ideal save by repeating the very process that\nhas brought you to it. Your moral insight is\nattained, and the foundation of your doctrine is no\nlonger a particular aim that is accepted by a mere\ncaprice of one individual, but it is the necessary aim\nthat arises in the mind of any one who actually\nrealizes the warfare of the particular aims. It is the\nideal of ideals. It is the absolute ideal that arises\nfor you out of the consideration of the separate\nideals. Each of them was relative to the mood of\nthe man who happened to choose it; this Ideal is\nrelative only to the insight that comprehends the\nwhole moral world. Unable as we men are fully to\nrealize just the actual nature of every single aim in\nthe world of life, still we are able fully to realize\ncertain conflicting aims; and, realizing this conflict, we\ncan form for ourselves the notion of that absolute\nrealization that means, as we have seen, first the\nskeptical despair of our last chapter, and then, by a\ndeeper reflection, the ideal that we have just set\nforth above. Thus we no longer are capriciously\ndeciding upon the worth of physical facts as such.\nWe are passing a necessary judgment upon ideals as\nideals.\n\nAnd we have tried to show that this our resulting\nideal is not a barren one. At first sight it seems so.\nAt first sight one says: \u201cThis harmony is a self-contradictory\ndream.\u201d But no, not self-contradictory\nis the dream; for, if we cannot perfectly realize this\nnew ideal, if absolute harmony is unattainable, one can still walk in the light of the ideal. One can say:\n\u201cI will act as if all these conflicting aims were mine.\nI will respect them all. I will act in the light that\nhas brought me my moral insight. And to that end\nI will act at each moment as one would act who\nsaw himself about to suffer in his own person and\nat one time all the consequences of his act for all\nthe aims that are to be affected by what he does.\u201d\nBut now the ideal becomes practical, now it ceases\nto be barren. It is no longer the mere wish that\nwas at the heart of our skepticism, a wish gloomy,\ninactive, terrified at the warfare that is in the world.\nIt is a cool determination. It says: \u201cThis disease\nof conflicting aims cannot now be cured, but it shall\nbe dealt with. These aims are as my own. I will\ndeal with them as such. I will work for their\nharmony.\u201d If one doubts this ideal, then he doubts\nthe very foundation of ethical doubt itself. But this\nis not all that our absolute ideal accomplishes. Not\nmerely for the moment of insight does this ideal give\nan aim; but it extends itself to the other moments\nof life. It says: \u201cThe highest good would be realizable\nonly in case not merely the aim of this moment\nof insight itself, but the aims of all the conflicting\nwills in the world, were brought into conformity to\nthis insight. The highest good would be attainable\nif all the conflicting wills realized fully one another.\nFor then, not abandoning each its own aim, each\nwould have added thereto, through insight, the aims\nof the others. And all the world of individuals\nwould act as one Being, having a single Universal\nWill. Harmony would in fact be attained.\u201d Therefore our ideal has another precept to give us. It\nsays: \u201cAct in such wise as to extend this moral\ninsight to others.\u201d Here is a definite practical aim,\nand it justifies us in saying to all the conflicting\nwills: \u201cYou should respect one another.\u201d For so in\nfact they all would do if they had the moral insight.\nAnd to have it, as we now see, is the prerequisite\nto the attainment of the highest good, namely, this\nideal Harmony that we seek at the moment of moral\ninsight.\n\nIII.\n\nWe fear that such general discussion of what we\nhave called the moral insight may seem, at first sight,\ntoo abstract to be real. We hasten to a more\nconcrete study of this insight. Leaving those more\nabstract aims that have been used as the foundation of\nmoral systems, let us study our moral insight as it\napplies to the special aims that come into conflict\nwhen a man is dealing with his neighbor. Let us\nsee how just the considerations that we have applied\nto the conflict of ethical aims in general apply\ndirectly to the conflict between selfishness and\nunselfishness, which we so long and so vainly considered\nin the last chapter. This warfare of selfishness and\nunselfishness is indeed not the deepest of moral\nproblems, and to solve the problem here involved is\nnot, as some have supposed, to define forthwith the\nHighest Good. Yet we shall do well to fix our minds\nfor the time on this special problem.\n\nWhy is selfishness easier to me than unselfishness?\nBecause it is easier for me to realize my own future, and my own desire about it, than to realize the desires\nof my neighbor. My will is the datum; his the dimly-conceived,\nremote fact. Hence it seems to me obvious\nthat his will must be to me less significant than my\nown. Therefore he and I are often in deadly\nwarfare, just because I realize his will not in its inner\nnature, but as a foreign power, and because he deals\neven so with me. We stand over against each\nother like two moral systems, condemning and\nfighting each the other. Now, however, there often\nappear disinterested moralists, who try to patch up our\ndifferences. We have seen how and why they have\nso often failed. They tell me that my neighbor and\nI shall give each other much more selfish delight if\nwe stop fighting and begin co\u00f6perating. But that\nwise advice in no way touches the root of the\ndifficulty between us. If we did co\u00f6perate for this\nreason, we should still be two foreign powers, virtually\ndiscordant. And whenever it happened that either\nof us could do better by oppressing or by crushing\nthe other than by continuing to co\u00f6perate with him,\nhe not only would do so, but, so far as we have seen,\nmust do so. Another moralist hopes that if we\nkeep on co\u00f6perating long enough, we may evolve\ninto purely unselfish beings some day. The hope is\na pious one, but gives us no sufficient reason why we\nought to co\u00f6perate unselfishly now, when in fact we\nare selfish. Yet another moralist asks us to reflect\non the nature of our emotions of pity and sympathy\nfor each other. We reply that these feelings are\nindeterminate in character, and may lead us to do\nanything or nothing: for each other. So all these moralists leave my neighbor and me just where we were.\nIf it is to our personal advantage to fight, we shall\ndo so; otherwise we may by chance remain for a\nwhile in practical harmony; but, throughout, our\nmoral aims will remain what they were, selfish and\nconflicting.\n\nForsaking these unsatisfactory attempts to found\na moral doctrine concerning one\u2019s duty to one\u2019s\nneighbor, let us try to do what Schopenhauer so\nhaltingly suggested, namely, to see what moral\ninsight as moral insight, and not as pity or as far-sighted\negoism, tells us about the moral relations of\nselfishness and unselfishness. If a man not merely\npities but knows his neighbor\u2019s will, what moral\nideal does he get? We affirm that insight into the\nreality of the neighbor\u2019s will, insight that considers\nhis will as it is in itself, and that accordingly repeats\nit in us, gives us a position above the struggle of\nself and neighbor, and lets us see the higher ideal of\nHarmony, whose precept is: Act as a being would act\nwho included thy will and thy neighbor\u2019s will in the\nunity of one life, and who had therefore to suffer\nthe consequences for the aims of both that will\nfollow from the act of either. This insight is not the\nmere emotion of pity nor yet sympathy, but something\ndifferent from these, namely, something that\ninvolves the realization, and therefore the reproduction\nin us, of the opposing will of the neighbor. This\ninsight therefore deprives each will in its separateness\nof its absolute significance, and commands that\nwe should act with an equal reference to both. It\nsays not merely, \u201cLove thy neighbor as thyself,\u201d but, \u201cIn so far as in thee lies, act as if thou wert\nat once thy neighbor and thyself.\u201d \u201cTreat these two\nlives as one life.\u201d\n\nWe must try to show how this insight leads to this\nresult. We must try so to bring home the insight\nto the reader that he shall in his person accomplish\nthe act of which we speak, and so come to accept\nthe ideal upon which we are insisting. It is in\nhimself that he is to experience this ideal, or else he\nwill not be able or willing to accept it. We can\nonly suggest the way. And so we shall try forthwith\nto suggest what is the nature of that common\nimperfect realization of our neighbor\u2019s life which does not\nlead to the moral insight, and then to dwell upon\nthis insight itself.\n\nIV.\n\nThe common sense, imperfect recognition of our\nneighbor implies rather realization of the external\naspect of his being, as that part of him which affects\nus, than realization of his inner and peculiar world\nof personal experience. Let us show this by example.\nFirst, take my realization of the people whom I\ncommonly meet but do not personally very well know,\ne.g. the conductor on the railway train when I\ntravel. He is for me just the being who takes my\nticket, the official to whom I can appeal for certain\nadvice or help if I need it. That this conductor has\nan inner life, like mine, this I am apt never to realize\nat all. He has to excite my pity or some other\nspecial human interest in me ere I shall even begin to\ntry to think of him as really like me. On the whole, he is for me realized as an automaton. But still\nfrequently I do realize him in another way, but how?\nI note very likely that he is courteous or surly, and\nI like or dislike him accordingly. Now courtesy and\ndiscourtesy are qualities that belong not to automata\nat all. Hence I must somehow recognize him in this\ncase as conscious. But what aspect of his\nconsciousness do I consider? Not the inner aspect of it as\nsuch, but still the outer aspect of his conscious life,\nas a power affecting me; that is what I consider. He\ntreats me so and so, and he does this deliberately;\ntherefore I judge him. But what I realize is his\ndeliberate act, as something important to me. It\nseldom occurs to me to realize fully how he feels; but\nI can much more easily come to note how he is\ndisposed. The disposition is his state viewed as a power\naffecting me.\n\nNow let one look over the range of his bare\nacquaintanceship, let him leave out his friends, and the\npeople in whom he takes a special personal interest;\nlet him regard for the first the rest of his world of\nfellow-men: his butcher, his grocer, the policeman\nthat patrols his street, the newsboy, the servant in\nhis kitchen, his business rivals whom he occasionally\ntalks to, the men whose political speeches he has\nheard or read, and for whom he has voted, with some\nnotion of their personal characters, \u2014 and then all\nthe rest of the outside world, the Turks or the\nIndians, the men of historic fame. Napoleon, Cicero,\nC\u00e6sar, the imaginary people in fictions that have\nexcited little of his stronger emotional interest: how\ndoes he conceive of all these people? Are they not one and all to him ideal or real ways of behavior\ntowards himself or other people, outwardly effective\nbeings, rather than realized masses of genuine inner\nlife, of sentiment, of love, or of felt desire? Does he\nnot naturally think of each of them rather as a way\nof outward action than as a way of inner volition?\nHis butcher, his newsboy, his servant, \u2014 are they not\nfor him industrious or lazy, honest or deceitful, polite\nor uncivil, useful or useless people, rather than\nself-conscious people? Is any one of these alive for him\nin the full sense, \u2014 sentient, emotional, and\notherwise like himself; as perhaps his own son, or his\nown mother or wife seems to him to be? Is it not\nrather the kind of behavior of these beings towards\nhim which he realizes? Is it not rather in general\ntheir being for him, not for themselves, that he\nconsiders in all his ordinary life, even when he calls\nthem conscious? And this being for him is what he\ncalls their dispositions. They are all good fellows\nor bad fellows, good-humored or surly, hateful or\nadmirable. They may appear even sublime or ideal\nbeings, as a Caesar might to a student of history.\nYet their inner life need not therefore be realized.\nThey remain powers, ways of acting, dispositions,\nwonderful examples of energy. They are still seen\nfrom without. Not their inner, volitional nature is\nrealized, but their manner of outward activity; not\nwhat they are for themselves, but what they are for\nothers.\n\nSuch then is our natural realization of our fellows\neven when we call them conscious. The imperfect\nrealization in question extends even to the case of closer affection. Lear realizes in his daughters, or thinks that he realizes, only the dispositions that they express. Real effort to enter into the inner life of their emotions is foreign to his simple and imperious mind. Even when I delight in another\u2019s love, I am still apt to realize rather the disposition than the inner and more personal emotional life that is the cause of this way of behavior. The act is what I want, the voice, the look, thegift, or the other assurance of an energy in harmony with my will. The ordinary emotion of gratitude is another very good illustration of the imperfect realization of our neighbors that accompanies even the plainest verbal recognition of their conscious existence. As I write these words, my heart is just now going out in admiration and respect, not to say affection, to a man whom I but imperfectly know. I feel a desire to do him a favor, if it were possible. Why? Do I reflect on his true nature and needs as a being like myself? Do I feel our common weakness, our common longings? Have I dispelled the illusion of selfishness that separates us? No, \u2014 I grieve and am ashamed to confess it, \u2014 this being is to me almost as wholly external as my plumber, not much better realized than my walking-stick. I am dwelling not on his own inner life at all. In my mind\u2019s eye I see just his outer form. Yet he has written me a graceful and pleasing letter, expressing his interest in some of my plans, and his desire to help me. I am selfishly delighted to find such help. I have an instinctive feeling that it demands compensation. I\nfeel an animal delight in being in friendly company.\nMy gratitude is here no moral emotion at all.\n\nThe emotion of sympathy does indeed often tend\nto make me realize the other and more completely\ninternal aspect of my neighbor\u2019s reality; but\nsympathy does this in the halting and uncertain way\ndescribed in a previous chapter. And at all events,\nwhatever sympathy leads to, it is not by itself the\ninsight. And so, to sum up our present way of\nstudying the illusions of selfishness, we find by these\nexamples that by nature our neighbor\u2019s conscious\nlife is realized for us rather as an active agency that\naffects our fortunes, than as an inner experience, or\nas it is in itself, namely, as a Will; and hence it is\nthat we are disposed to treat it with coldness, rather\nthan to respect its true nature. Resistance,\nconquest, employment of this agency, seem to us\naxiomatic aims of prudence; unselfish respect for its\ninner accompanying experiences seems to us a hard\nif not a meaningless task. Such is the nature and\nground of the illusion of selfishness.\n\nIf now our activity of realization were confined to\nthe range of common-sense emotions, there would be\nno escape from all this. It is our critical reflection\nthat appears on the scene, saying: \u201cO common\nsense, what thou hast realized cannot be all. We\nmust resolve to recognize more, else will our\nresolutions never lose their inconsistency and darkness.\nBe honest, O common sense. Is not thy neighbor\nafter all just a dead fact of nature, an automaton\nwith certain peculiar energies?\u201d And common sense answers: \u201cNo, for is he not most assuredly a\nconscious agent, whose action I realize?\u201d \u201cDost\nthou then know that he wills, and not realize what\nthis will means for him, namely, that he experiences\nit?\u201d \u201cNo,\u201d answers common sense, \u201cif he wills as\nI do, he must experience as I do.\u201d \u201cRealize it\nthen, and see what thou then wilt do with him.\u201d\nAnd common sense must, we affirm, so realizing,\nsimply reply, \u201cAs he is real, he is as much an\nobject for my effort as I myself am, in case I can\naffect him. Ours is one life.\u201d This common sense\nmust see, if it fully realizes the neighbor. And if\nit realizes his activity, as it always in some fashion\ndoes, then it must come to realize his experience,\nand so to realize him fully, so soon as it undertakes\nto complete the incomplete act by which it has\nbegun to realize his will. This completion may be\nhastened by pity, or may be hindered by the weakness\nthat pity often involves; but when it comes, it\nmust be an act of clear insight, made possible by\nthe rational nature of our mental life. Whatever\nin our thought is done in part, we are ready either\nto abandon wholly, or to finish altogether, so soon as\nwe realize that we have been doing it in part. Our\nresolution to recognize an existence cannot remain\nconfused or self-contradictory when we come to\nrealize where the confusion and self-contradiction lie.\nAnd as we simply cannot give up recognizing our\nneighbor, we must of necessity resolve, when we see\nthis inconsistency of our natural realization, to\nrealize him wholly.\n\nSuch is our reflective account of the process that, in some form, must come to every one under the proper\nconditions. In this process we see the beginning of\nthe real knowledge of duty to others. The process\nis one that any child can and does, under proper\nguidance, occasionally accomplish. It is the process\nby which we all are accustomed to try to teach humane\nbehavior in concrete cases. We try to get people to\nrealize what they are doing when they injure others.\nBut to distinguish this process from the mere tender\nemotion of sympathy, with all its illusions, is what\nmoralists have not carefully enough done. Our\nexposition has tried to take this universally recognized\nprocess, to distinguish it from sympathy as\nsuch, and to set it up before the gates of ethical\ndoctrine as the great producer of insight.\n\nBut when we say that to this insight common\nsense must come, under the given conditions, we do\nnot mean to say: \u201cSo the man, once having attained\ninsight, must act thenceforth.\u201d The realization of\none's neighbor, in the full sense of the word\nrealization, is indeed the resolution to treat him as if he\nwere real, that is, to treat him unselfishly. But this\nresolution expresses and belongs to the moment of\ninsight. Passion may cloud the insight in the very\nnext moment. It always does cloud the insight after\nno very long time. It is as impossible for us to\navoid the illusion of selfishness in our daily lives, as\nto escape seeing through the illusion at the moment\nof insight. We see the reality of our neighbor, that\nis, we determine to treat him as we do ourselves.\nBut then we go back to daily action, and we feel the\nheat of hereditary passions, and we straightway forget what we have seen. Our neighbor becomes\nobscured. He is once more a foreign power. He is\nunreal. We are again deluded and selfish. This\nconflict goes on and will go on as long as we live\nafter the manner of men. Moments of insight, with\ntheir accompanying resolutions; long stretches of\ndelusion and selfishness: That is our life.\n\nV.\n\nTo bring home this view in yet another way to the\nreader, we ask him to consider very carefully just\nwhat experience he has when he tries to realize his\nneighbor in the full sense that we have insisted upon.\nNot pity as such is what we desire him to feel. For\nwhether or no pity happens to work in him as\nselfishly and blindly as we have found that it often\ndoes work, still not the emotion, but its consequences,\nmust in the most favorable case give us what we\nseek. All the forms of sympathy are mere impulses.\nIt is the insight to which they bring us that has\nmoral value. And again, the realization of our\nneighbor\u2019s existence is not at all the discovery that\nhe is more or less useful to us personally. All that\nwould contribute to selfishness. In an entirely\ndifferent way we must realize his existence, if we are to\nbe really altruistic. What then is our neighbor?\n\nWe find that out by treating him in thought just\nas we do ourselves. What art thou? Thou art now\njust a present state, with its experiences, thoughts,\nand desires. But what is thy future Self? Simply\nfuture states, future experiences, future thoughts and desires, that, although not now existing for thee,\nare postulated by thee as certain to come, and as in\nsome real relation to thy present Self. What then\nis thy neighbor? He too is a mass of states, of\nexperiences, thoughts, and desires, just as real as thou\nart, no more but yet no less present to thy\nexperience now than is thy future Self. He is not that\nface that frowns or smiles at thee, although often\nthou thinkest of him as only that. He is not the\narm that strikes or defends thee, not the voice that\nspeaks to thee, not that machine that gives thee\nwhat thou desirest when thou movest it with the\noffer of money. To be sure, thou dost often think\nof him as if he were that automaton yonder, that\nanswers thee when thou speakest to it. But no, thy\nneighbor is as actual, as concrete, as thou art. Just\nas thy future is real, though not now thine, so thy\nneighbor is real, though his thoughts never are thy\nthoughts. Dost thou believe this? Art thou sure\nwhat it means? This is for thee the turning-point\nof thy whole conduct towards him. What we now\nask of thee is no sentiment, no gush of pity, no\ntremulous weakness of sympathy, but a calm, clear\ninsight.\n\nBut one says: \u201cAll this have I done from my\nyouth up. Surely I hold and always have held my\nneighbor to be real and no automaton. Surely I\nhave feared his reproof, have been angry at his\nill-will, have rejoiced in his sympathy, have been\ninfluenced by his opinions, all my life. And yet I have\nremained selfish.\u201d Nay, but just at the moment\nwhen thou hadst to act towards him so or so, thou wert no longer quick to realize him. Then it was\nthat thy passion made him for thee a shadow. Thou\ncouldst not love him, because thou didst forget who\nhe was. Thou didst believe in him enough to fear\nhim, to hate him, to fight with him, to revenge\nthyself upon him, to use his wit as thy tool, but not\nenough to treat him as real, even as thou thyself art\nreal. He seems to thee a little less living than thou.\nHis life is dim, it is cold, it is a pale fire beside thy\nown burning desires. He is a symbol of passion to\nthee, and imperfectly, coldly, with dull assent, without\nfull meaning to thy words, thou dost indeed say,\nwhen asked, that the symbol stands for something\nreal, as real as thyself. But what those words mean,\n\u2014 hast thou realized it, as, through selfish feeling,\nthou dost realize thy equally external future Self?\n\nIf he is real like thee, then is his life as bright a\nlight, as warm a fire, to him, as thine to thee; his\nwill is as full of struggling desires, of hard problems,\nof fateful decisions; his pains are as hateful, his\njoys as dear. Take whatever thou knowest of desire\nand of striving, of burning love and of fierce hatred,\nrealize as fully as thou canst what that means, and\nthen with clear certainty add: Such as that is for\nme, so is it for him, nothing less. If thou dost that,\ncan he remain to thee what he has been, a picture, a\nplaything, a comedy, or a tragedy, in brief a mere\nShow? Behind all that show thou hast indeed\ndimly felt that there is something. Know that\ntruth thoroughly. Thou hast regarded his thought,\nhis feeling, as somehow different in sort from thine.\nThou hast said: \u201cA pain in him is not like a pain ill me, but something far easier to bear.\u201d Thou hast\nmade of him a ghost, as the imprudent man makes\nof his future seK a ghost. Even when thou hast\nfeared his scorn, his hate, his contempt, thou hast\nnot fully made him for thee as real as thyself. His\nlaughter at thee has made thy face feel hot, his\nfrowns and clenched fists have cowed thee, his sneers\nhave made thy throat feel choked. But that was\nonly the social instinct in thee. It was not a full\nsense of his reality. Even so the little baby smiles\nback at one that smiles at it, but not because it\nrealizes the approving joy of the other, only because\nit by instinct enjoys a smiling face; and even so the\nbaby is frightened at harsh speech, but not because\nit realizes the other\u2019s anger. So, dimly and by\ninstinct, thou has lived with thy neighbor, and hast\nknown him not, being blind. Thou hast even\ndesired his pain, but thou hast not fully realized the\npain that thou gavest. It has been to thee, not\npain in itself, but the sight of his submission, of his\ntears, or of his pale terror. Of thy neighbor thou\nhast made a thing, no Self at all.\n\nWhen thou hast loved, hast pitied, or hast\nreverenced thy neighbor, then thy feeling has possibly\nraised for a moment the veil of illusion. Then thou\nhast known what he truly is, a Self like thy present\nSelf. But thy selfish feeling is too strong for thee.\nThou hast forgotten soon again what thou hadst seen,\nand hast made even of thy beloved one only the\ninstrument of thy own pleasure. Even out of thy power\nto pity thou hast made an object of thy vainglory.\nThy reverence has turned again to pride. Thou hast accepted the illusion once more. No wonder that in\nthis darkness thou findest selfishness the only rule of\nany meaning for thy conduct. Thou forgottest that\nwithout realization of thy future and as yet unreal\nself, even selfishness means nothing. Thou forgottest\nthat if thou gavest thy present thought even so\nto the task of realizing thy neighbor\u2019s life, selfishness\nwould seem no more plain to thee than the love of\nthy neighbor.\n\nHave done then with this illusion that thy Self\nis all in all. Intuition tells thee no more about thy\nfuture Self than it tells thee about thy neighbors.\nDesire, bred in thee by generations of struggle for\nexistence, emphasizes the expectation of thy own\nbodily future, the love for thy own bodily welfare,\nand makes thy body\u2019s life seem alone real. But\nsimply try to know the truth. The truth is that all this\nworld of life about thee is as real as thou art. All\nconscious life is conscious in its own measure. Pain\nis pain, joy is joy, everywhere even as in thee. The\nresult of thy insight will be inevitable. The illusion\nvanishing, the glorious prospect opens before thy\nvision. Seeing the oneness of this life everywhere,\nthe equal reality of all its moments, thou wilt be\nready to treat it all with the reverence that prudence\nwould have thee show to thy own little bit of future\nlife. What prudence in its narrow respectability\ncounseled, thou wilt be ready to do universally. As\nthe prudent man, seeing the reality of his future\nself, inevitably works for it; so the enlightened man,\nseeing the reality of all conscious life, realizing that\nit is no shadow, but fact, at once and inevitably desires, if only for that one moment of insight, to\nenter into the service of the whole of it.\n\nSo the illusion of selfishness vanishes for thy\npresent thought (alas! not for thy future conduct,\nO child of passion!), when thou lookest at what\nselfishness has so long hidden from thee. Thou seest\nnow the universal life as a whole, just as real as thou\nart, identical in joy and sorrow. The conflict of\nselfishness and unselfishness vanishes. Selfishness is\nbut a half realization of the truth expressed in\nunselfishness. Selfishness says: I shall exist.\nUnselfishness says: The Other Life is as My Life.\nTo realize another's pain as pain is to cease to desire\nit in itself. Hatred is illusion. Cowardly sympathy,\nthat hides its head for fear of realizing the\nneighbor\u2019s pain, is illusion. But unselfishness is the\nrealization of life. Unselfishness leads thee out of the\nmists of blind self -adoration, and shows thee, in all\nthe life of nature about thee, the one omnipresent,\nconscious struggle for the getting of the desired. In\nall the songs of the forest birds; in all the cries of\nthe wounded and dying, struggling in the captor\u2019s\npower; in the boundless sea, where the myriads of\nwater-creatures strive and die; amid all the countless\nhordes of savage men; in the hearts of all the good\nand loving; in the dull, throbbing hearts of all\nprisoners and captives; in all sickness and sorrow; in\nall exultation and hope; in all our devotion; in all\nour knowledge, \u2014 everywhere from the lowest to the\nnoblest creatures and experiences on our earth, the\nsame conscious, burning, willful life is found, endlessly\nmanifold as the forms of the living creatures, unquenchable as the fires of the sun, real as these\nimpulses that even now throb in thy own little selfish\nheart. Lift up thy eyes, behold that life, and then\nturn away and forget it as thou canst; but if thou\nhast known that, thou hast begun to know thy duty.\n\nVI.\n\nBut this unity that the moral insight has found\nfor us in life must not be falsely interpreted.\nRightly interpreted, the moral insight will solve for\nus many very difficult problems; but we must not\nimagine that it shows us all this individual life as\nin any mystical sense already actually in the\nharmony that we seek. Not because these aims are\nalready in themselves one, but because we, as moral\nseers, unite in one moment of insight the realization\nof all these aims, for that reason alone is this life\none for us. It is in this sense alone that the moral\ninsight gives us a solution of the problem of egoism\nand altruism, as well as a foundation for a general\ndoctrine of the Highest Good. The moral insight\ndoes not enable us to say: These beings have always\nactually but blindly sought what was in itself the\nHighest Good. We can only say: Each one has\nsought in his blindness only what was to him\ndesirable. And not, save by the realization of the\nconflict of desire, can the truly highest good be\nconceived. The moral insight discovers harmony not\nas already implied in the nature of these blind,\nconflicting wills, but as an ideal to be attained by hard\nwork. We point this out in order to show that we do not\nfall into the hackneyed error of those moralists who\ninsist that they merely tell men what one thing it is\nthat men have all been blindly seeking. Such\nmoralists often say: \u201cOur system is but an expression\nof the tendency that was always there, latent in\nmen. It tells them in plain words what they\nalways wanted, and then it tells them how to get this\nend.\u201d This specious pretense of so many moral\nsystems we have implicitly condemned in the previous\npart of our discourse. It constitutes in many cases\nthat appeal to the physical facts which we have set\naside as always useless and often ungrounded. If\none looks the pretense fairly in the face, how flat\nand stale it seems! Yonder vast wealth of conflicting\naims among men, base and noble, devilish and\ndivine, \u2014 what moralist has been able to sum all of\nthem up in any formula, save in the wholly abstract\nformula that we have above referred to, namely,\nthat all these beings seek what seems to them\ndesirable. How presumptuous to say to them: \u201cIn fact\nyou all desire this that I formulate in my text-book\nof morals.\u201d In fact they do not. And it is absurd\nto watch the turnings and twistings of language by\nwhich a moralist tries to make out that they do.\nFor instance, let the moralist be J. S. Mill, and let\nhim declare, as he does, that happiness is the one\ngoal of all men. If happiness includes the attainment\nof any possible object of anybody's desire, then\nindeed the theory is a truism. But with this truism,\nof course, no sort of progress would have been made\nin ethics. Mill must tell us something about what sorts of happiness there are, and about what sorts\nought to be sought most of all. He says, as we\nknow, that there are \u201chigher\u201d and \u201clower\u201d pleasures,\nand that higher pleasures ought to be sought\nin preference to the others, the pleasure of the\nintellect, of generosity, etc., instead of the sensual\npleasures. What can be the proof? That happiness\nwas the goal we were to learn, because all men\nactually seek it. But that the \u201chigher\u201d happiness is\nthe goal, rather than a lower form, how do we learn\nthat? Because men always choose it? In fact they\ndo not. So Mill has to shift the ground a little.\nThey do not all of them actually seek it, but they\nwould seek it if they knew it. Most of them are\nignorant of what they would prize most, namely, of\nthese \u201chigher\u201d pleasures. But here again Mill\nmeets a disheartening fact. Most men, if they ever\nlove \u201chigher\u201d pleasures at all, are found loving\nthem more for a while in the ideal enthusiasm of\nyouth than later in the prosaic dullness of middle\nlife. Men who have known the \u201chigher\u201d happiness\ndo then deliberately turn away from it. This\nis a regular fact of life, well known, and often\nlamented. How does this agree with Mill\u2019s doctrine?\nAlas! it does not agree, and only by worthless\ndevices can he conceal from himself the fact. The\npeople who enjoy the higher know the lower and\nreject it. The people who enjoy the lower do not\nknow of the higher, or, if they ever knew it, they\nhave forgotten it, or if they have not quite forgotten\nthe higher, they have \u201clost capacity for it.\u201d As if\nall this could not just as plausibly be said from the side of the \u201clower\u201d pleasures. Just as if it were\nnot constantly said from that side in every good\ndrinking-song, with a result precisely opposed to\nMill\u2019s. In fact Mill is driven in this controversy\nwith imaginary opponents to the worst subterfuge\npossible for so skilled a thinker, when he at last\nsays that the pleasure which seems the higher of two\npleasures to the \u201cmost of those who have\nexperienced both\u201d is actually the higher. For thus, to\nkeep up the show of merely interpreting to men their\nactual will. Mill has to appeal to the opinion of the\nmajority, has to use a purely practical habit of\ndeliberative assemblies for the purpose of deciding a\nquestion of theory, and then has most absurdly to\ndeclare that a man's experience about his own\npleasure is worth nothing as a test of its value\nunless the majority of his fellows agree with him in\nhis judgment.\n\nIn fact all this is benevolent trifling. Men declare\nat one time one pleasure to be \u201chighest,\u201d that is,\nmost desirable, and at another time they declare\nanother pleasure to be the only desirable one.\nDifferent men persist in having different aims. To\ndefine their duty by telling them that they all have\none aim is wrong. From the point of view of the\nmoral insight all this struggling life becomes one;\nbut that is not because it as yet ceases to struggle,\nbut because the being possessed of the moral insight\ncomes to realize it all at once. For him it is one,\nbecause he identifies himself with the struggling\naims. He seeks their harmony, and must do so if\nhe have the insight. But they are not in harmony as yet at all; else would he have no work to do.\nLet him then not deceive himself. The conflict itself\nis real and not illusory. The illusion lies in the fact\nthat no one of the fighters realizes the inner life of\nthe others. But to overcome that illusion in any\nsoul is not to show that all the fighters have been\ndesiring the same thing.\n\nJ. S. Mill is by no means our only case of the\neffort to convince people that they always have had\none object of search, which the moralist has but to\nname in order to bring peace on the earth.\nBentham undertook the same task, and showed in his\nblunt way as much skill in subterfuge as he ever\naccused his opponents of showing, while he tried to\nmake out that all men always have been\nBenthamites, to whom pleasure was the only good. Mr.\nSpencer in his turn tries to define the Good so that\nit shall agree not only with the popular usage of the\nword good, but also with the Spencerian notion of\nwhat constitutes the Good. If anywhere a usage of\nthe word appears that does not agree with the\nSpencerian usage, Mr. Spencer insists, sometimes, that,\nif cross-questioned, the man who so uses it would\nhave to come over to the Spencerian usage, and\nsometimes that the usage in question is a survival\nin culture of a savage notion, or that it is in some\nother way insignificant. Thus the proof of Mr.\nSpencer\u2019s view about the nature of the ideal becomes\nso simple and easy that when, a little further\non, it is necessary to recognize the existence of\npessimists, Mr. Spencer finds no difficulty in regarding\nit as perfectly plain that a man can become a pessimist only in case he believes that the Spencerian\nideal of the Good is unattainable. Thus axioms are\nmanufactured whenever we need them.\n\nAll this is mere neglect of whatever ideals do not\nat once fit into one\u2019s own ideal. Such neglect is\nunworthy of an ethical inquirer. Yet it has been\nfrequently committed in recent times, and it is\ncommitted whenever a man endeavors or pretends, as\nProfessor Clifford also very skillfully endeavored\nand pretended, to found ethical science wholly upon\nthe basis and by the methods of natural science.\nSuch attempts are like the efforts of a man trying to\nbuild a steamboat, who should first drop the\nsteam-engine into the water, and then seek to build the\nboat up about the engine so as to float it and be\ndriven by it. For natural science will indeed give\nus the engine of our applied ethics, as indispensable\nas the steam-engine to the boat. But first we\nmust lay the keel, and we must get the boat ready\nfor the engine, the ideal ready for the science that\nis to apply it. All such attempts as those that put\nthe \u201cscientific basis\u201d first, lamely strive to conceal\ntheir helplessness behind a show of appealing to the\n\u201cfacts of human nature and of the social structure,\nas science discovers them.\u201d But these facts reveal\na confused warfare of aims among men, no one aim\nbeing actually chosen by the whole of men. And\nthen the \u201cscientific moralist\u201d tries to show by all\nsorts of devices that all men really have the same\naim. But he cannot show that, because it is not\ntrue. What aim is common to the whole life of any\none of us? Much less then is any aim common to\nall men. But this mistake is not specially modern. Not\nonly the modern scientific moralists have been guilty\nof it, but moral preachers of all schools since\nSocrates have been prone to insist on occasion, for\npurposes of persuasion, that somehow or other all evil\nconduct arises from mere ignorance of what one\nwants. This view is a mistake. One may want\nanything, and may know it very well. There is no\nknown limit to the caprice and to the instability of\nthe human will. If you find anybody desiring\nanything, the only tolerably sure and fairly universal\ncomment is, that he will stop desiring it by and by.\nYou can seldom get any ultimate analysis of the\nmotive of such a desire.\n\nBut we do not found our moral system on any\nsuch analysis. We do not say even that it is\nphysically possible for any of us to get and to keep the\nmoral insight long together. What we affirm can\nonce more briefly be summed up as follows: \u2014\n\n1. Moral insight, whenever, however, to whomsoever\nit comes, consists in the realization of the true\ninner nature of certain conflicting wills that are\nactual in the world.\n\n2. An absolute moral insight, which we can\nconceive, but which we never fully attain ourselves,\nwould realize the true inner nature of all the\nconflicting wills in the world.\n\n3. The moral insight involves from its very nature,\nfor those who have it, the will to harmonize,\nso far as may be possible, the conflicting wills that\nthere are in the world, and that are realized at the\nmoment of insight. 4. If the moral insight be concerned directly with\ntwo conflicting wills, my neighbor\u2019s and my own,\nthen this insight involves the will to act as if my\nneighbor and myself were one being that possessed\nat once the aims of both of us.\n\n5. If the moral insight be concerned with conflicting\ngeneral aims, such as could express themselves\nin systems of conduct, then the moral insight\ninvolves the will to act, so far as may be, as if one\nincluded in one\u2019s own being the life of all those\nwhose conflicting aims one realizes.\n\n6. Absolute moral insight would involve the will\nto act henceforth with strict regard to the total of\nthe consequences of one\u2019s act for all the moments\nand aims that are to be affected by this act.\n\n7. The moral insight stands in all its forms opposed\nto ethical dogmatism, which accepts one separate\nend only. The insight arises from the consciousness\nthat this one aim is not the only one that\nis actual. Imperfectly and blindly ethical dogmatism\nalso realizes this truth, and so hates or even\nanathematizes the opposing aims. But the hatred\nis imperfect realization. The moral insight therefore\nsays to those who possess the dogmatic spirit:\n\u201cIn so far as you seek a reason for the faith that is\nin you, you can find none short of the assumption of\nmy position.\u201d The moral insight says to itself, \u201cI\nought not to return to the dogmatic point of view.\u201d\nSo the moral insight insists upon giving itself the\nrule, \u201cDogmatism is wrong.\u201d\n\n8. The only alternatives to the moral insight are:\n(a) ethical dogmatism, which once for all gives up the effort to get any basis for ethics save its own\nirrational caprice; and (b) ethical skepticism, which,\nas we have seen, is only a preliminary form of the\nmoral insight, and passes over into the latter upon\nreflection.\n\n9. There is no other distinction between right and\nwrong save what the dogmatic systems on the one\nhand give as their capricious determinations, and\nwhat the moral insight on the other hand shows as\nthe expression of what it involves.\n\nOur conclusion so far is therefore this: Remain\nblind if you will; we have no means of preventing\nyou. But if you want to know the whole ethical\ntruth, you can find it only in the moral insight. All\nelse is caprice. To get the moral insight, you must\nindeed have the will to get the truth as between the\nconflicting claims of two or more doctrines. This\nwill being given, the moral insight is the necessary\noutcome even of skepticism itself.\n\nYet now, after all our argument and enthusiasm,\nthe reader must know that what we have so far\nportrayed is only the most elementary aspect of the\nmoral insight. The unity that we have insisted upon\nis so far an empty unity, a negative freedom from\nconflict. To show the real worth of this whole view,\nwe must pass from the beggarly elements of duty to\nmore advanced conceptions. The moral insight must\nbe so developed as to tell us about the Organization\nof Life. The empty unity must be filled with\ncontent. We must discuss more in concreto what men\npossessed of the moral insight will do.\n\nNotes","title":"The Religious Aspect of Philosophy/Chapter 6","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":11425}