MASTER NEGA TIVE NO. 91 -80425 MICROFILMED 1991 COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY LIBRARIES/NEW YORK ;; as part of the Foundations of Western Civilization Preservation Project JJ Funded by the NATIONAL ENDOWMENT FOR THE HUMANTTIES Reproductions may not be made without permission from Columbia University Library COPYRIGHT STATEMENT The copyright law of the United States - Title 17, United States Code - concerns the making of photocopies or other reproductions of copyrighted material... Qiversity Library reserves the right to refuse to accept a copy order if, in its judgement, fulfillment of the order would involve violation of the copyri.ght law. AUTHOR: THILLY, FRANK TITLE: INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS PLACE: NEW YORK DA TE : 1900 Master Negative # COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY LIBRARIES PRESERVATION DEPARTMENT ^AI-Zii2'^sJk Restrictions on Use: BIBLIOGRAPHIC MICROFORM TARGET Original Material as Filmed - Existing Bibliographic Record i,^"" " u f wi^mmm 170 T34 ThiUy, Frank, 1865J.934. Introduction to ethics. New York, 0. Scribner's sons, 1900. f I xi, 346 p. 12^ D170- Copy in Barnard -College Library. -T34 -T^4- Library of Congress O May 24, 1900-159 (Copyright 1900 A 8881) TECHNICAL MICROFORM DATA FILM SIZE:__^^^_ REDUCTION RATIO: JlX IMAGE PLACEMENT: lA <^ AB AlB DATE FILMED: ULi/j.Z__ INITIALSi?0 nLMEDBY: RESEARCH PUBLICATIONS. INC WOODBRIDGE. CT Association for information and Image Management 1100 Wayne Avenue, Suite 1100 Silver Spring, Ma'7land 20910 301/587-3202 Centimeter 1 2 3 iiii iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii Ml Inches m 4 5 6 iiiiliiiiliiiiliiiiliiiiliiii I 2 II 7 8 9 10 liiiiliiiiliiiiliiiiliiiiliiiiliiii 1.0 I.I 1.25 11 12 13 14 15 mm 1^ 12.8 2.5 ■ 5.0 1 — mil ia|||i£ 2.2 If 3. 180 2.0 IS. U> u ISibu 1.8 1.4 1.6 MflNUFflCTURED TO flllM STPNOflRDS BY APPLIED IMAGE, INC. 3^ s*. •«^»«:w :jf 7" ^• ^Mi ii^ I* ?- ?. -.-* •fi^ii ^ i^ \'TO Columbia ^nibersfttp intf)tCitpof^eto|9orfe LIBRARY ,:—,'>>■■ :t '.'.II J ! '\ '] i /»/ c/^iy-x.- ; .«L.-V^^' - ski This book is I ,/■ INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS i O'j 1 «• ••, • J . 1 ' '5 o 1 • INTRODUCTION TO ETKIOS BY FRANK THILLY PEOFKSSOB OP PHILOSOPHY IN THE UNIVEESITY OF MISSOURI NEW YORK CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 1900 • • • • •• t t c < » » • c kit .1 < t « * I ■ * • « < t < ( < • t » I < • • < ■ • - » . •• • », * . • • t • la • r .• • • < • • • • t • • • COPYRIGHT, 1900, BY CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS Ed FEIEDRICH PAULSEN THIS BOOK IS GRATEFULLY DEDICATED BY HIS FRIEND AND PUPIL Nortoooti ^rfS8 J. a Cuahing & Co. — Berwick k Smitll Norwood Mast. U.S.A. V O ^ C7> •N 286589 < TABLE OF CONTENTS CHAPTER I The Nature and Methods of Ethics - r»„ -^ . PAGE 1. The Function of Science j 2. The Subject-matter of the Sciences 3 3. The Science of Ethics * 4 4. The Data of Ethics ! ! 7 5. The Subject-matter of Ethical Judgment .... 9 V 6. Definition of Ethics • , .11 7. The Interrelation of Sciences 12 8. Ethics and Psychology 13 9. Ethics and Politics ^j 10. Ethics and Metaphysics 17 111. The Methods of Ethics .20 12. Theoretical Ethics and Practical Ethics .... 22 13. The Value of Ethics .23 CHAPTER II Theories of Conscience 1. Introduction 26 2. The Mythical View '..'.' 27 3. The Rationalistic Intuitionists 28 (1) The Schoolmen 29 (2) Cudworth 32 (3) Clarke !.*.'.* 33 (4) Calderwood 34 4. The Emotional Intuitionists gQ (1) Shaftesbury 37 (2) Hutcheson 33 (3) Hume 39 (4) Rousseau, Kant, A. Smith, Herbart, Brentano . 41 vii VIU TABLE OF CONTENTS PAGE 6. The Perceptional Intuitionists 42 (1) Butler 42 (2) Martineau 43 6. The Empiricists 47 (1) Hobbes 47 (2) Locke 48 (3) Helv^tius 53 (4) Paley 54 (5) Bentham 55 (6) Hartley 66 (7) Bain 57 7. Reconciliation of Intuitionism and Empiricism . . 59 (1) Kant 60 (2) Darwin 64 (3) Spencer 66 . (4) Contemporaries 72 CHAPTER III Analysis and Explanation of Conscience 1. The Psychological Facts .... 2. Analysis of Conscience .... 3. The Feeling of Obligation 4. The Feelings of Approval and Disapproval 6. Conscience as Judgment .... 6. Criticism of Intuitionism , . . . 7. Criticism of Emotional Intuitionism 8. Genesis of Conscience .... 9. In what Sense Conscience is Innate 10. The Infallibility and Immediacy of Conscience 11. Conscience and Inclination 12. The Historical View and Morality . 74 76 79 82 83 85 91 93 100 106 107 111 CHAPTER IV The Ultimate Ground of Moral Distinctions 1. Conscience as the Standard 2. The Theological View 116 117 TABLE OF CONTENTS IX 3. The Popular View PA6S . 118 4. The Teleological View . 118 6. Arguments for Teleology .... . 119 6. Teleological Schools . 125 7. Summary . . . 127 CHAPTER V The Teleological View 1. Conscience and Teleology 2. Categorical and Hypothetical Imperatives 3. Actual Effects and Natural Effects . 4. A Hypothetical Question answered . 6. Morality and Prosperity . 6. Imperfect Moral Codes . 7. Moral Reform 8. The Ultimate Sanction of the Moral Law 9. Motives and Effects .... 10. The End justifies the Means . 11. Teleology and Atheism . 12. Teleology and Intuitionism 129 133 134 136 137 137 139 140 141 146 150 162 CHAPTER VI Theories of the Highest Good : Hedonism 1. The Standard of Morality and the Highest Good . . 155 2. The Greek Formulation of the Problem .... 166 3. *The Cyrenaics 153 4. V Epicurus I60 6. Democritus 162 6. Locke 163 7. Butler i64 8. Hutcheson ]65 9. Hume 166 10. Paley 167 11. Bentham 168 12. John Stuart Mill i69 13. Sidgwick and Contemporaries 173 14. General Survey 176 TABLE OF CONTENTS CHAPTER VII Theories of the Highest Good: Energism y PAGE 1. ^Socrates 180 2. rlato 181 S.^he Cynics 183 4.\Aristotle i84 6\The Stoics 186 6. The Neo-Platonists 188 7. Hobbes 190 8. Spinoza 190 9. Cumberland 193 10. Shaftesbury 194 11. Darwin I95 12. Stephen • ... 197 13. Jhering . 193 14. Wundt and Contemporaries 199 15. Kant 200 16. General Survey 203 CHAPTER VIII Critique of Hedonism 1. The Conception of the Highest Good .... 205 2. Pleasure as the Highest Good 207 3. The Antecedents of Action 209 4. The Antecedents of Volition 2I6 5. Conclusions 217 6. The Hedonistic Psychology of Action .... 217 7. Present or Apprehended Pleasure-pain as the Motive . 218 8. Present Pleasure-pain as the Motive .... 228 9. Pain as the Motive 232 10. Unconscious Pleasure-pain as the Motive . . . 234 11. The Psychological Fallacies of Hedonism . . .236 12. The Pleasure of the Race as the Motive .... 239 13. Pleasure as the End realized by All Action . . . 239 14. Pleasure-pain as a Means of Preservation . . . 242 15. The Physiological Basis of Pleasure-pain . . . 246 16. Metaphysical Hedonism 247 17. Pleasure as the Moral End 249 TABLE OF CONTENTS « CHAPTER IX The Highest Good 1. The Question of Ends or Ideals 2. The Ideal of Humanity 3. Egoism and Altruism 4. The Effects of Action 5. The Motives of Action 6. Criticism of Egoism . 7. Selfishness and Sympathy 8. Moral Motive and Moral Action 9. Biology and the Highest Good . 10. Morality and the Highest Good 11. Conclusion .... CHAPTER X Optimism versus Pessimism 1. Optimism and Pessimism 2. Subjective Pessimism 3. Scientific Pessimism . 4. Intellectual Pessimism 5. Emotional Pessimism 6. Volitional Pessimism PAGE 250 253 258 258 261 263 267 269 276 278 284 286 287 289 291 292 303 CHAPTER XI Character and Freedom 1. Virtues and Vices 311 2. Character 313 3. The Freedom of the Will 316 4. Determinism 319 6. Theological Theories 323 6. Metaphysical Theories 324 7. Reconciliation of Freedom and Determinism . . . 327 8. Criticism of Indeterminisra 329 9. The Consciousness of Freedom 334 10. Responsibility 336 11. Determinism and Practice 337 Index 341 INTKODUCTION TO ETHICS CHAPTER I THE NATURE AND METHODS OF ETHICS i 1. The Function of Science, — The world presents us with an endless array of phenomena. These phenomena the human mind observes and endeavors to understand. It notices that things and occur- rences are, to a certain extent, uniform and constant, that nature is regular and orderly. The intellect of man strives to detect similarities or uniformities in things and actions, and to arrange these in groups or classes. It brings order into apparent confusion, 1 Sidgwick, The Methods of Ethics, pp. 1-24 ; The History of Ethics, chap, i ; Stephen, The Science of Ethics, pp. 1-40 ; Sclmr- man, The Ethical Import of Darwinism, pp. 1-.37 ; Hoffding, Ethik, pp. 1-54 ; Miinsterberg, Der Ursprung der Sittlichkeit, pp. 1-10 ; Wundt, Ethics, English translation, pp. 1-20 ; Paulsen, A System of Ethics, edited and translated by Frank Thilly, pp. 1-29; Muir- head, Elements of Ethics, pp. 1-39 ; Mackenzie, Manual of Ethics, pp. 1-31, 324-328 ; Hyslop, The Elements of Ethics, pp. 1-17 ; J. Seth, A Study of Ethical Principles, pp. 1-35 ; Marion, Lemons de morale, chap, i ; Runze, Ethik, Vol. I, pp. 1-16 ; Dorner, Das menschliche Handeln, Introduction ; Sigwart, Logic, translated by Helen Dendy, Vol. II, pp. 529 ff. The beginner will find the works of Paulsen, Muirhead, Mackenzie, and Hyslop especially serviceable in connection with this chapter. (. ' < c r c C ' C C I t tt t INTItODUCTlON TO ETHICS it makes a cosmos out of the chaos, it analyzes and cly.ssifies. ''/'■ But it does not stop here. It would know wliy things are as they are, why they act as they act. The thinker is not content with knowing what is; the great question is, Why is it so, what is the rea- son for its being as it is ? What is its relation to other things and occurrences, what are the antece- dents and concomitants upon which it is said to depend, and without which it cannot be what it is ? What are its consequents or effects ; in short, what place does it occupy in the world of facts^ how does it fit into the system of things f The tendency to find out the why and wherefore of things is universal; it manifests itself in the child who wonders " what makes the wheels go round" in his plaything, no less than in the natural philosopher who longs to know why the rain falls and the wind blows and the grass grows. And there is something of a Newton in the most superstitious savage. Science begins with a question mark; it begins when reasons are sought after, and its perfection is meas- ured by the manner in which its problems are solved. Events which were once explained by supernatural causes are now referred to their natural antecedents or concomitants, but the scientific instinct is essen- tially the same as in those dark ages when our be- nighted forefathers ascribed the thunder to the thunder god, and regarded Apollo as the hurler of the shafts of disease and death. The scientist is THE NATURE AND METHODS OF ETHICS 3 born when man begins to wonder at facts, and aims to correlate them with other facts or insert them into a system, be it ever so crude. ^ 2. The Subject-matter of the Sciences, — Science, therefore, analyzes, classifies, and explains phenomena.' Now we may, for the sake of order and convenience, arrange these phenomena into different groups or classes, and form different sciences. Each particular science marks out for itself a particular subject- matter, and studies this. Thus physics investigates' the general properties of matter, biology treats of matter in the living state, psychology examines mental processes or states of consciousness. Eachj of these sciences may in turn be subdivided until' we have an endless number of special sciences, cor- responding to limited fields of investigation. In every case, however, the attempt is made not only 1 See Muirhead, The Elements of Ethics, § 8; Hibben, Induc- tive Logic, chap, i ; Creighton, Logic, §§ 49, 69 ff., 78, 88 ; Sigwart, Logic, Vol. II, pp. 417 ff. I quote from Creighton's Logic, p. 285 : "We have said that Judgment constructs a system of knowledge.' This implies, then, that it is not merely a process of adding one fact to another, as we might add one stone to another to form a heap. No ! Judgment combines the new facts with which it deals with what is already known, in such a way as to give to each its own proper place. Different facts are not only brought together, but they are arranged, related, systematized. No fact is allowed to stand by itself, but has to take its place as a member of a larger system of facts, and receive its value from this connection. Of course, a single judgment is not sufficient to bring a large number of facts into relation in this way. But each judgment contributes something to this end, and brings some new fact into relation to what is already known." 4 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS to analyze and classify and describe, but also to explain, to account for a particular group of facts, to tell why they are so and not otherwise, to ascer- tain the conditions or circumstances which made them what they are, to relate them to other facts, to insert them into a system, as was indicated above. 8. The Science of Ethics. — Among the sciences referred to is one called ethics^ which we are going to study in this book. It will be our business, first of all, to specify the facts or phenomena, the subject-matter, with which this branch of knowl- edge concerns itself. And here, perhaps, the differ- ent names that have been used at various times to designate our science may help us to understand its boundaries. The ancient Greeks employed the terms, ra rjOLtcd (ta ethica)^ tjOikt] iTrtaTrjiJLrj (ethice episteme}^ ethics, ethical science. ^ The word 'qBiKo^ is derived from the word ^^09 (ethos), character, dis- position, which is connected with e^o? (ethos), custom or habit. The Latin equivalent for the name ethics is philosophia moralis? from which comes the English 1 Though Aristotle (died 323 b.c.) was perhaps the first to em- ploy the term ethics in a strictly technical sense, the name was used by Xenocrates (313 b.c), and perhaps also by the Cyrenaics. See Sextus Empiricus, Ad. Mathematicos, VII, 16. See also Runze, Ethik^ p. 1 ; Wundt, Ethics^ Part I, chap. i. 2 See Wundt, Ethics, English translation, p. 26: "The term moralis, which gave rise to the expression philosophia moralis, was a direct translation from Aristotle. Cicero remarks expressly, in the passage where he introduces the word, that he has formed it on the analogy of the Greek ethicos (97^4x65), 'in order to enrich the Latin language.' " THE NATURE AND METHODS OF ETHICS 5 appellation, moral philosophy or moral science.'^ The term practical philosophy is also used as a synonym of ethics, or as a more comprehensive generic term including both ethics and politics ; 2 practical because it investigates practice or conduct.^ The subject-matter of ethics is morality, the phe- nomenon of right and wrong. It is a fact that men call certain characters and actions moral and im- moral, right and wrong, good and bad, that they approve of them and disapprove of them, express moral judgments upon them, evaluate them. They feel morally bound to do certain things or to leave them undone, they recognize the authority of cer- tain rules or laws, and acknowledge their binding 1 Compare the titles of the works of Paley, Stewart, Reid, Cal- otir ' ^'''' ^'"''""' '^'^'^^"' ^"^^' ^^^^' -^d 2 Compare Lotze, Practische Philosophie ; Hodgson, Theory of »The term ethics is the preferable one, as it is freest from ambiguity. Tlie name moral philosophy, or „u>ral science,' w^ formerly used in the sense of mental science to distinguish the study of mental phenomena from that of physical phenomena, or natural philosophy. The term practical philosophy is also mislead- ng. The science which studies the principles of conduct or prac- EtLt TrJ" n'"''""" ^' P''^^'"^- P"y«'ology. or chemistiy. Ethics IS, like all sciences, both speculative and practical, both a science and an art. It is speculative, or theoretical, in so far as it analyzes, classifies, and explains it, phenomena, or searches after their principles or laws, practical in so far as it applies these princi- p^s or laws, or puts them into practice. Physiology "and chcmist.7 or truths discovered by biology, chemistry, and physics. It is confusing to call ethics practical philosophy simply because Tt deals with practice. See § 12 of this chapter INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS force. They say: This ought to be done, this ought not to be done ; thou shalt, and thou shalt not. In short, we seem to approach the world with a certain moral form or category, to impress it with a certain moral stamp ; we look at it through moral spectacles, as it were. Now this fact is as capable and as worthy of in- vestigation as any other fact in the universe, and we need a science that will subject it to careful analysis. Three problems here present themselves for our consideration. (1) What differentiates the subject- matter of ethics from that of other fields of knowl- edge? What is there in an ethical phenomenon that allows us to refer it to a special class ? In what does it differ from a fact of physics or aesthetics? (2) How shall we explain the fact that men judge ethically, that they pronounce judgment as they do? What do we mean when we say that an act is right or wrong ; what is taking place in our consciousness under these circumstances? Is there anything in man that makes him judge as he judges, and what is it? Why does man evaluate as he does? Is it because certain moral truths are written on his heart, because he possesses an innate faculty of knowledge, a conscience, a universal, original, immutable power of the soul that enables him immediately to discrim- inate the right from the wrong? Or do we grad- ually learn to make moral distinctions ; is the ability to judge morally which we now possess an acquired one, a product of evolution, and as such capable THE NATURE AND METHODS OF ETHICS of further development? (3) What is the nature of acts which are designated as right and wrong? Why are they right and wrong ? Is there anything in them, any quality or attribute, that makes them right and wrong, or that makes men call them so ? If so, what is it? All these are questions for the moralist to decide. He must calmly, carefully, and impartially investi- gate the facts, and, if possible, explain them ; he must search after the principles or laws under- lying them, if there be any ; he must unify them, if that can be done. He must analyze and explain both character and conduct, the inside and outside of action, the mental factor, conscience, or moral judg- ment, and the physical factor, the act which it judges. He must tell us what they are, and why they are so ; he must account for them, show us their raison d'etre^ indicate to us the place which they occupy in the system of things. 4. The Data of Ethics. — We have stated in a general way what is the subject-matter with which our science deals, and how it is to be treated. Let us now attempt to show what differentiates ethical facts from other facts. Let us imagine that a person has killed a fellow-creature with malice aforethought. We call the deed murder, we pro- nounce moral judgment upon it ; we say, It is wrong, wicked, reprehensible. The same act, however, may be looked at from the physical or physiological point of view. The energy stored up in the brain cells of 8 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS the murderer was liberated by certain currents com- ing from the periphery, and discharged into efferent nerves connected with certain muscles, which pro- duced the movement of the arm and hand holding the weapon of destruction. And the blow on the victim's skull so injured his brain and the vital functions de- pendent upon the nervous system as to cause death. The prosecuting attorney, ignoring the physiological and even moral factors involved, may look at the act purely from the legal standpoint. To kill a person with malice aforethought is a crime prohibited by law and punishable by death. The psychologist may try to explain the psychology of the entire affair. Certain motives were aroused in the mind of the murderer by the behavior of his future victim. These motives became more and more intense, and the inhibitions weaker and weaker, until a resolution was finally formed which led to the act. We see, one and the same circumstance may be examined from different points of view ; each indi- vidual thinker may select particular elements in it for study, and ignore the others. The physicist looks at the rainbow and tries to understand its physical conditions. I may contemplate it and call it beautiful, and then ask myself what makes it beautiful ; why is it that the contemplation of such a phenomenon arouses a peculiar aesthetic feeling in me ? The science of aesthetics is appealed to for an answer to this question. In ethics we do not care for the physical or physiological causes which THE , NATURE AND METHODS OF ETHICS 9 have produced the acts, motives, and characters with which we are concerned ; all these have interest for us only because, and in so far as, we stamp them with a certain value, only because they bear a certain relation to the human soul, only because they pro- voke peculiar ethical feelings and judgments in us. Acts which are capable of exciting such judgments fall within the province of the science of ethics. There could be no science of ethics if no one ever approved and disapproved of things, if no one ever called things right and wrong. If the contemplation of certain acts and motives did not arouse in us ethical feelings and judgments, there could be no science of ethics because there would be no facts for ethics to study. We might perhaps be perfect physicists, physiologists, astronomers, and even phi- losophers, but we should never pronounce moral judgment upon an act. That we place a value upon tilings^ that we call them right or good^ wrong or had^ is the important fact in ethics, is what makes a science of ethics possible.^ 5. The Subject-matter of Ethical Judgment. — We said before that moral judgment was pronounced upon acts, but, we must add, not upon all acts. We do not feel like judging unless the act is the product of some conscious being like ourself. We do not call an earthquake or a cyclone right or wrong ; as Martineau says, " we neither applaud the gold-mine 1 See Hoffding, Ethik, III, and his Ethische Principienlehre ; Miinsterberg, Der Ursprung der SittUchkeit, pp. 10 ff. 10 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS nor blame the destructive storm." ^ The child and the savage may applaud and condemn such occur- rences and inanimate objects, but this is most likely because they regard them as endowed with soul, or because they have heard others do so. Generally speaking, we nowadays limit our judgments to the actions of conscious human beings. We expect the act to have a mental or psychical background. When the act is the expression of a conscious human being, we feel like judging it morally. But when we are told that the agent did not control it, that it occurred without his willing it, or that he was not capable of reasoning and feeling and willing in a healthy manner at the time of its performance, then we withhold our judgment. We do not praise or blame the movements made in an epileptic fit, or hypnotic trance, or in sleep, or reflex actions over which the person has no power. Nor do- we con- demn or approve of the acts of a lunatic. But in case any of the acts under consideration are the necessary consequents of some previous conduct of the doer, which, we believe, he might have avoided, we pronounce judgment upon them, or at any rate upon him. Wherever we are convinced that the acts were purely mechanical, that is, physically deter- mined, and not accompanied by consciousness, we do not judge them morally. But whenever con- sciousness is present in the performance of the act, we are tempted to judge. 1 Types of Ethical Theory, Vol. II, p. 20. THE NATURE AND METHODS OF ETHICS 11 Let US therefore say that the subject-matter of ethical judgment is human conduct, that is, con- sciously purposive action. i We must not forget, however, that this was not always the case, and is not even now, perhaps, universally true. But it makes no difference to us here upon what the mind pronounces its judgments. The important thing for ethics is that such judgments are pronounced at all, and it is the business of the science to examine every fact or act which is judged ethically, or is capable of being so judged. 6. Befiyiition of Ethics. — Ethics may now be roughly defined as the science of right and wrong, the science of duty, the science of moral princi- ples, the science of moral judgment and conduct. It analyzes, classifies, describes, and explains moral phe- nomena, on their subjective as well as on their objective side. It tells us what these phenomena are, separates them into their constituent elements, and refers them to their antecedents or conditions ; it discovers the principles upon which they are based, the laws which govern them ; it explains their origin and traces their development. In short, it reflects upon them, thinks them over, attempts to answer all possible questions which may be asked with reference to them. It does with its facts what every science does Avith its subject-matter : it strives to know everything that 1 See Seth, A Study of Ethical Principles, chap, i ; Spencer, Data of Ethics, chap i ; Muirhead, A Manual of Ethics, pp. 16-17 ; Martiiieau, op. cit., Vol. II, chap. 1. 12 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS can be known about them, to correlate them, to unify them, to insert them into a system. 7. The Interrelation of Sciences. — When we say, however, as we did before, that there are separate sciences, we do not wish to be understood as mean- ing that these sciences are absolutely distinct from each other, that their respective facts are to be studied apart from all other phenomena in the world. This is not the case. The world presents itself to us as one, as a unity, a concrete whole. The mind splits it up into parts, but these parts are by no means really separate, independent entities. No phenomenon can be thoroughly understood in iso- lation, apart from all other phenomena. Strictly speaking, we cannot know one fact without know- ing them all. "To know one thing thoroughly," as Professor James says, " would be to know the whole universe. Mediately or immediately, that one thing is related to everything else ; and to know all about it, all its relations need be known. "^ Tennyson expresses the same idea poetically in the oft-quoted lines : — "Little flower — but if I could understand What you are, root and all, and all in all, I should know what God and man is." iSee Leibniz, Monadology, § 61: "Everybody is affected by everything that happens in the world, so that a man seeing every- thing v,rould know from each particular object everything that takes place everywhere, as well as what has taken place and will take place ; he perceives in the present that which is remote in time and space." Cf. Paulsen, Introduction to Philosophy, translated by Prank Thilly, pp. 145 ff. THE NATURE AND METHODS OF ETHICS 13 And as the world is one, science is one. Sciences depend upon each other, are subservient to each other. Thus the facts of psychology are in some way related to the facts of physiology and physics ; we cannot study the phenomenon of sensation with- out referring to the functions of the nervous sys- tem and the properties of matter. 8. EtJiics and Psychology. — Inasmuch as the facts of ethics are not isolated and independent, but are « connected with the rest of the world, it is natural that the science of ethics should stand in some relation to the other sciences. If ethics is con- cerned with human beings, it will necessarily have something to do with the science of human nature. If ethics has to examine the conduct of man, and if conduct is not merely physical movement, but the outward expression, or sign, or aspect, of states of consciousness, and if the important thing in ethics is the fact that human beings judge of things in a certain way, then, of course, ethics is bound to depend, in a large measure, upon psychology. Psy- chology analyzes, classifies, and explains states of consciousness. Although all such states are of in- terest to the moralist, some of them require especial attention from him. The so-called ethical ' senti- ments, the feeling of obligation, etc., are mental phenomena, and as such must be analyzed and ex- plained by him ; and they cannot be treated apart from the rest of consciousness. Thus, when the ethicist analyzes and describes the conscience, he 14 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS IS doing the work of the psychologist. And when He studies the moral nature of the infant and the primitive man, a^ he sometimes does, with a view to tracing the development of the conscience, he is still witliin the field of psychology. He may like- wise consider animal states of consciousness, and s^earch for the beginnings of conscience there, as Darwm did, xn which case he is pursuing a psycho- logical investigation. Indeed, we may say that in so far as ethics deals wih moral states of consciousness, it is simply a spe- cial branch of psychology.^ But our science does not only look at the subjective side of conduct, it inves- tigates the objective side also, and the relation which this bears to the subjective. What, it asks, is the nature of the acts which are judged moral ; do they possess some mark or characteristic that makes then, moral or leads men to call them so? Why do men judge as they do; what is the ground of moral dis- tuic ions? Why is wrong wrong, and right right? Explain the virtues and duties, e.g., benevolence, chanty, justice, veracity, etc., and their opposites. Is there a standard or criterion or ideal by which- conduct is judged, and wliat is it ? Can we justify this standard or ideal, or is it something that cannot or need not be justified ? Given a certain ideal or his'ftl'ZT'^T'"' ^^^^^ '^^»t">entof the ethical sentiments in o tfri T ■^^"''•'>«'''^ <""* Explanatory, and Sully's account of the eth,cal or moral sentiments in the second volume ofl Bur^an M,nd, or, in fact, any modern work on psychdo^ N . THE NATURE AND METHODS OF ETHICS 15 standard, what conduct is moral, what immoral ? Does humanity remain true to the ideal ? What is the highest good for man, the end of life ? Can we specify it scientifically, or is it impossible to do so? Such are some of the questions which our science asks and seeks to answer. Should it be said that these also are problems for psychology to solve, we should raise no serious objection. The important thing is that the phenomena in question be examined and explained ; whether by psychology or a special science does not matter. Ethical facts are, to a great extent, mental processes, and as such objects of psychological study. But the same may truth- fully be said of the data of sesthetics. A science must thoroughly explain its facts, and, strictly speaking, psychology w^ould have to explain ethical and sesthetical facts. But sciences divide their labor, and it is in keeping with the practices of modern scientific research that psychology should hand over to a special discipline the consideration of a particular set of its facts. Besides, there are certain questions, as we have just seen, which are not usually considered by the psychologist. The psychologist studies states of con- sciousness as such ; he regards his work as completed when he has analyzed psychical phenomena and has referred them to their necessary psychical, or, if he be physiologically inclined, gg^chophysical antece- dents. He does not, as a rule, inquire into the principles underlying conduct ; he does not concern 16 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS himself with the question, What is the end of life, or what is the standard or criterion by which acts are measured ? But he could do so and still remain within the confines of his proper field of study. Such an investigation would surely assist him in better understanding the workings of the human mind, just as a knowledge of physics and chemistry would enable the physiologist better to understand the subject-matter of his science. ^ 9. Ethic% and Politics. — The relation which eth- ics bears to the science of politics largely depends upon our conception of the nature and function of these two sciences. If we assume with Plato that ethics is the science of the highest good, and that the object of the State is to realize that end, then politics depends upon ethics, for we cannot tell what the State ought to do until we know what the high- est good is. But if the State is the highest good, then conduct has value only in so far as it subserves the interests of the State, and ethics is simply a branch of, or another name for, politics, as Aristotle declares. But let us say, ethics is the science of right and wrong ; it discovers the principles of conduct, shows the ground of moral distinctions. Politics has to do 1 With the view advanced above Munsterberg, Der Ursprung der Sittlichkeit, and Simmel, Einleitung in die Moralwissenschaft, agree. See also Sully, The'Jtiman Mind, Appendix L. Mackenzie, A Manual of Ethics, especially Appendix B, opposes the concep- tion. THE NATURE AND METHODS OF ETHICS 17 with the nature, origin, and development of the State ; it studies the different forms in which the State appears and has appeared, and strives to define the functions which it performs. It deals, let us say, with the principles of organized society. Now if ethics should discover that morality realizes a cer- tain end or aim, and that the fact that it realizes such an end explains its existence, and if politics should find that the State realizes the same end, then there would evidently be a close connection between the two. Should we be fortunate enough to dis- cover a principle or standard of morals, we should be able to say, in a general way, how a man ought to act in order to realize the ideal ; we should be able to construct a moral code. And should we be able to specify the end or ideal aimed at by the State, we could compare the two ends or purposes. Should they be the same, then politics might be called a branch of ethics or vice versa. Ethics would lay down the general rules of conduct ; it would tell us how to act as individuals. Politics would tell the State how to act ; it would be a guide to the conduct of man in organized society. ^ 10. Ethics and Metaphysics. — A science, as we have seen, analyzes, classifies, and explains a particu- lar set of phenomena. Strictly speaking, no fact is explained until we know all about it, until we un- derstand its relation to the entire universe. To 1 See Sidgwick, Methods of Ethics, Bk. I, chap, ii ; Mackenzie, § 6 ; Muirhead, Elements of Ethics, pp. 34 ff. 18 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS THE NATURE AND METHODS OF ETHICS 19 y know one thing well means to know everything, as we have already pointed out.i An ideal science would therefore be able to account for every single fact within its domain and coordinate it with the rest of reality. As a matter of fact, however, this ideal is not realized. The different sciences do not even aim at so high a goal. They do not go very far in tlieir search for the causes of things, nor do they attempt to understand the world as a whole. When a science has referred an event to an antecedent, and this perhaps to another antecedent or group of antecedents, it is apt to regard its work as done. The physicist as such, for example, studies the prop- erties of matter, the laws of motion. He does not concern himself with the question regarding the ultimate nature and origin of these data, nor does he seek to correlate them with other forms of reality, say with the phenomena of mind. Nay, the tempta- tion is strong to regard his facts as the ultimate and most important facts, and to subordinate all others to them. The biologist studies the different forms of living matter Avhich occur upon our earth ; he investigates the structure and function of organisms and compares them with each other. It is true that the tendency toward unification is stronger in bi- ology than in many other sciences, and that attempts have been made to derive the more complex forms of life from simple beginnings ; but in so far as this is the case, biology more nearly realizes the ideal 1 See § 7 of this chapter. of science than the other sciences. Still, there are final problems which the biologist as such does not undertake to solve. The psychologist, again, ana- lyzes and explains states of consciousness ; he splits up the mind into its elements and refers them to their physical and psychical antecedents. But the questions. What is the ultimate nature and origin of consciousness or soul ? How is such a thing as mind possible at all ? Whence comes it and whither does it go? Wh\it is its relation to matter and motion ? are left unanswered. 1 Every science, then, confines itself to a particular group of phenomena and seeks to explain these in terms of each other.^ But certain ultimate ques- tions suggest themselves, which, though hard to an- swer, cannot be brushed aside. These questions are handed over to philosophy or metaphysics for settle- ment. Philosophy simply means, as James puts it, "an unusually obstinate attempt to think clearly and consistently." To philosophize means to go to the very bottom of things, to think a problem out to the bitter end, to account for everything, to under- stand everything. In strictness, every science should be philosophical, it should not stop until all questions have been answered. And as a matter of fact, there are philosophical scientists in every 1 It cannot be denied, of course, that every science makes cer- tain metaphysical assumptions, that it practically starts out with the metaphysics of common sense. 2 In so far as it does this, we might call it empirical, as distin- guished from rational or metaphysical. 20 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS sphere of science, men who like Wilhehn von Humboldt, Darwin, Huxley, and Helmholtz, cross the narrow confines of the particular fields in which they happen to be working, and look at the universe as a whole. Now the remarks which apply to the other sci- ences likewise apply to ethics. Ethics investigates a particular branch of facts and has to explain them. An ideal science of ethics will not stop until it thoroughly understands the phenomena with which it deals, and this, as we have seen, is not possible without universal knowledge. To realize its ideal, ethics must become philosophical, must be philos- ophy. In this respect, however, we repeat, it in no wise differs from the other sciences. We shall not, however, in this book, attempt to do more than the average science does with its subject- matter. We shall be satisfied if we succeed in find- ing the general principles underlying morality. We must leave it to the philosophers to solve the ultimate problems of ethics and to insert the facts of morality into the universal system of things.^ 11. The Methods of Ethics. — Let us next con- sider the methods of ethics. The method to be pursued by our science does not, generally speak- ing, differ from that followed by other sciences. We must examine moral phenomena with the same ^ For the relation of philosophy to the sciences, see Paulsen, Introduction to Philosophy, pp. 15 ff. ; Kiilpe, Introduction to Philosophy ; Munsterberg, Ber Ursprung der Sittlichkeit, 1 ff. THE NATURE AND METHODS OF ETHICS 21 care practised in other fields of research. We must observe and collect moral facts wherever we can. We must investigate the modes of conduct of different races, nations, classes, individuals, and periods of time. We must watch the behavior of the civilized and uncivilized, adults and children, men and women ; we must go as far back to the beginnings of history as we can; we must study the mythology, theology, philosophy, literature, and art of the different peoples, in order to discover what they considered right and wrong ; we must look at their language, '' the fossilized spiritual life of mankind," at their systems of law, at their polit- ical, social, and economic conditions, which are to a large extent an embodiment of their morality. What a wealth of moral facts we find in the works of Homer, Hesiod, and the Greek tragedians, in Shakespeare, Byron, and Goethe ! What an insight we gain into the moral feelings of the Middle Ages from the contemplation of their great works of art ; and how much the social conditions of our own times tell us of tlie moral ideals of the age I Facts, then, must be gathered in our science, both external and internal facts. We must look out- ward and inward. But we must also study and seek to interpret these facts ; we must reflect and speculate upon them. No science can live without speculation. You may gather facts by the thou- sands and be no better off than before ; they are merely the raw material upon which you must work, 22 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS which you must form into a system. We must pass from facts to principles. The mere observance of facts will lead to nothing. Only a highly synthetic, only an imaginative mind, one that can peer through the outward shell into the very heart of nature, is capable of advancing science. 12. Theoretical Ethics and Practical Ethics. We may distinguish between theoretical ethics and prac- tical ethics. A science or theory, as has been said, teaches us to know, and an art to do.i In studying a subject theoretically or scientifically in this sense, we seek to discover the principles or laws gpverning our phenomena. Anatomy and physiology are the- ories in so far as they examine the general structure and functions of organisms. After we have found the principles or laws, we apply them, we put them into practice, we lay down certain rules which must be obeyed in order that we may reach certain ends. The science or theory of physiology teaches us how the body functions, what causes it to function in this way, what are the conditions essential to its functioning so. The art or practice of hygiene frames rules based upon these principles, the observ- ance of which is essential to health. The science of psychology tells us what are the conditions or causes of certain mental phenomena; pedagogy applies the truths discovered by the psychologist in practice. Every art bases itself upon a theory ; and the more developed the art the more developed, as 1 See Sully, Teacher's Handbook of Psychology , chap. i. THE NATURE AND METHODS OF ETHICS 23 a rule, the theory upon which it rests. And the final end or purpose of every science or theory is to be of some practical use.^ Now there is also a science or theory of ethics and an art of ethics. The science discovers the princi- ples, the art applies them. The science teaches us what is done, the art what ought to he done. Practi- cal ethics is the application of theoretical ethics.^ 13. The Value of Ethics. — In conclusion, let us consider the value of ethics for the student. Why should we study ethics? Well, why study any- thing ? • Morality is a fact, and as such deserves to be studied. Man is a reflective being, and, there- fore, bound to take cognizance of everything in the universe. His own conduct is surely important and interesting enough to merit the attention which is given to the study of physical occurrences. Man 1 See Drobisch, Logik, p. 165. 2 For views similar to the above, see the references to Miinster- berg, Simmel, Paulsen, and Stephen, mentioned at the beginning of this chapter. See also Ziegler, SittUchos Sein und sittUches Werden. Many writers, following Wundt {Ethik, Part I, Intro- duction), compare ethics to logic, and call it a normative science (Xormwissenschaft). According to them, logic gives us the laws of correct thinking, the norms or rules which must be observed in order to reach truth. It also measures our thinking by these rules or norms, and judges its value accordingly. Ethics tells us how^ ^i^, ^^^-f we ought to act in order to act ethically, or morally ; it lays down norms, or rules of conduct, which the agent must obey in order toi insure the morality of his conduct. See Hyslop, Muirhead, Mac-' kenzie. In this sense, however, it seems to me, every science that can be applied in practice is normative. — Cf . Spencer, Social Statics, p. 458. 24 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS has conquered the forces of nature because he has thought about them, because he has subjected them to critical analysis. It is to be supposed that the examination of moral forces will be equally fruitful. The discovery of an ethical criterion will surely assist us in answering troublesome ethical questions. We do not always know what is right and what is wrong ; we must reflect upon our conduct, we need a standard or ideal with which to measure it. There can be no great progress in morals witliout reflection. Men are often ignorant of the right ; they have to reason it out, they need a firm foundation on which to base it. Or they often become sceptical with regard to morals ; they observe a great divergence in modes of conduct, and are apt to regard morality as a collection of arbitrary rules having no real bind- ing force. A closer study of the moral world will easily show the falseness of this view, and establish ethical truths upon a solid basis. I do not, of course, wish to be understood as claiming that morality is impossible without reflec- tion upon morality, or a science of ethics. This would be like saying that there can be no seeing without a science of vision. Before there can be a science of optics men must possess the power of sight; before there can be a science of ethics men must act. But just as the science of optics greatly assists us in our attempts to see things, so the science of ethics is an aid to action. It is held by some, however, that reflection upon THE NATURE AND METHODS OF ETHICS 25 moral matters is apt to weaken a person's power of action, and that a study of ethics is, therefore, dangerous to morality. Even if this were so, it could not hinder men from theorizing on the prin- ciples of conduct. But the view is false. A careful and thorough examination of the field of morals will, it seems to me, inspire us with a greater respect for morality, and strengthen our impulses toward the good. Of course, hasty and superficial judgments upon ethical facts are, like all half-truths, dangerous. But the best way to combat them is to prove their falseness ; the best cure for a half-truth is always a whole truth. CHAPTER II THEORIES OF CONSCIENCE i 1. Introduction, — We pronounce moral judgments upon ourselves as well as upon others ; we distin- 1 For a history of ethical theories, see, besides the Histories of Philosophy: Kostlin, Die Ethik des classischen Altertums ; Lut- hardt, Die antike Ethik; Ziegler, Die Ethik der Griechen und Bomer; Gass, GescMchte der christlichen Ethik; Gass, Die Lehre vom Geicissen; Ziegler, Geschichte der christlichen Ethik; Lut- hardt, Geschichte der christlichen Ethik; Jodl, Geschichte der Ethik in der neueren Philosaphie ; Gizycki, Die Ethik David Hume's; Whewell, History of Moral Philosophy; J. H. Ficlite, System der Ethik; Vorlander, Geschichte der philosophischen Moral, Bechts- und Staatslehre ; Mackintosh, On the Progress of Ethical Philosophy during the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries; Stephen, English Thought of the Eighteenth Century; Guyau, La morale anglaise contemporaine ; Fouillfie, Critique des systemes de morale contemporains ; Williams, A Beview of Evo- lutional Ethics ; Sidgwick, Outline of a History of Ethics; Janet, Histoire de la philosophic morale et politique ; Paulsen, A System of Ethics, pp. 33-215 ; Wundt, Ethics, Vol. II ; J. Seth, A Study of Ethical Principles, pp. 77-249; Watson, Hedonistic Theories from Aristippus to Spencer; Hyslop, Elements of Ethics, pp. 18-89; Martineau, Types of Ethical Theory; Calderwood, Hand- book of Moral Philosophy, 10th edition, pp. 318 ff. ; Eucken, Die Lebensanschauungen der grossen Denker. For a history of ethical conceptions, see also Schmidt, Die Ethik der alien Grie- chen ; Lecky, History of European Morals from Augustus to Char- lemagne; Friedlander, Die Sittengeschirhte Boms; Keim, Bom und das Christentum. Sutherland's Origin and Growth of the Moral Instinct contains much valuable material. Consult also the bibliographies in my translation of Paulsen's Ethics. For bibliog- 26 THEORIES OF CONSCIENCE 27 guish between rightness and wrongness in thoughts, feelings, volitions, acts, institutions, and so forth. We insist upon the performance of certain modes of conduct and the avoidance of others ; we command categorically. Thou shalt, and thou shalt not. We regard ourselves and our fellows as morally bound or ohliijed to do certain things, and to refrain from others. The breach of rules which we feel ought to be obeyed is condemned by us even when we ourselves are the offenders. Let us embrace all these facts under a general formula, and say that man pronounces moral judg- ments, or distinguishes between right and wrong; man has a moral consciousness or a conscience. The question naturally arises. How is this fact to be explained? We cannot solve this problem until we have carefully analyzed the phenomenon itself which provoked it. Before attempting that, how- ever, let us consider some answers which have already been made to the question. 2. The Mythical View. — The naive tliinker tries to account for things in a peculiar manner. He regards natural phenomena as the expression of hidden, mysterious forces. He collects a number of similar occurrences and conceives them as the raphy of the History of Philosophy, see my translation of Weber's History of Philosophy, notes in § 3. For special bibliographies see the notes on particular philosophers in Weber and Paulsen. The beginner will find the works of Paulsen, Seth, Wundt, Sidg- wick, and Hyslop ^ost helpful to him in his study of the history of ethics and ethical conceptions. 28 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS manifestation of some supernatural principle. Thus rain and thunder are produced by rain and thunder gods, disease by a god of disease. The same ten- dency impels him to explain the fact of moral consciousness by referring it to supernatural powers. He notices a conflict in himself between two ten- dencies, the one urging him in the direction of the good, the other in the direction of the evil. Behind each he places an entity, a principle, of which the different occurrences are the expressions. Con- science, he says, is the voice of God in the human soul ; it is God directly speaking to us; it is some- thing distinct from the person, something from with- out that tells him which way to go. Greek mythology personifies the pangs of conscience in the form of the Erinyes or Furies, who pursue the evil-doer as long as he lives ; and even Socrates speaks of the daemon within him who warns him against certain lines of conduct and urges him in the direction of the good.^ And just as the naive consciousness places an entity behind the inner tendency toward the right, so it makes an entity of the inner tendency toward the evil. The latter is called the principle of evil or the devil, who tempts man to do wrong. 3. The Rationalistic Intuitionists. — The mytho- logical view, as we might call it, is superseded by the metaphysical view, which appears in many forms, often in combination with the preceding. 1 See Schmidt, Ethik der Griechen; Gass, Die Lehre vom Ge- toissen. See also Bender, Mythologie und Metaphysik. THEORIES OF CONSCIENCE 29 Let us see how it answers our question. Why do we make moral distinctions? Because we have the power of making such judgments. Man possesses a natural faculty, a peculiar moral endowment, a conscience, which immediately -enables him to dis- tinguish between right and wrong. Its deliverances are absolutely certain and necessary, as self-evident as the truth that twice two is four, as immediate and eternal as the axioms of geometry. . You cannot and need not prove that twice two is four, you can- not and need not prove that stealing is wrong. It is as absurd to doubt the one fact as it is to doubt the other. And whence did man obtain this won- derful power, you ask ? Well, it is an inborn fac- ulty, which God has given us. (1) Let us consider a few representatives of this view,^ and note how it is modified in the course of time. And, first, let us turn to the early Christian thinkers.2 " How," Chrysostom ^ asks the heathen,* " did your lawgivers happen to give so many laws on murder, marriage, wills, etc. ? The later ones have perhaps been taught by their predecessors, but how did these learn of them ? How else than through con- science, the law which God originally implanted in hu- man nature ? " " There is in our souls," says Pelagius,^ 1 In the following expositions I have tried, as far as possible, to state the different authors' views in their own language. 2 See Gass, Die Lehre vom Gewissen. 8 Died 407. * Adv. pop. Antioch.., Homil. 12. ^ A contemporary of St. Augustine. 30 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS THEORIES OF CONSCIENCE 31 "a certain natural holiness, as it were, which pre- sides over the citadel of the mind, a judgment of good and evil."^ Augustine ^ declares that there are "in the natural faculty of judgment certain rules and seeds of virtue, which are both true and incom- municable." But, it might be asked, if there is such an absolute faculty, if the dictates of this conscience or the moral truths engraven on the mind are so certain and universal, how comes it that so many mistakes are made, and so many differences exist in action? In obeying the so-called inner voice the individual may still fall into error. To escape this troublesome problem the Schoolmen modified the view just set forth in an ingenious way. I may pronounce judg- ment that a particular act is right or wrong. The faculty which enables me to do this is the conscience (conscientia, avveiBrja-L^;^. The judgment may be false, for the particular act which it pronounces to be right or wrong may be the opposite. But I have another faculty, the faculty which tells me in general that all wrong must be avoided, that evil must not be done. This faculty, called the synteresis or syn- deresis (o-ui/SeJoeo-t?),^ cannot err, it is infallible, inex- tinguishable. It is the spark of reason or truth which burns even in the souls of the damned. When we come to apply this truth to particular 1 Epist. ad Demetr.^ chap, iv, p. 25. 2 354_430. 8 The spelling and derivation of the word are in dispute. See Archiv f. G. d. Ph.^ Vol. X, number 4. cases and seek to discover what particular deeds should be avoided, we exercise the conscience and may err. To quote from Bonaventura : ^ '* For God has endowed us with a twofold righteousness, one for judging correctly, and this is the righteousness of conscience, and one for willing correctly, and that is the righteousness of the synderesis, whose func- tion it is to warn against (remurmurare) the evil and to prompt to goodness." 2 Antoninus of Flor- ence ^ regards the synderesis as a natural habit or endowment, a natural light, which tends to keep man from doing wrong by warning him against sin and inclining him to the good.* It is a simple principle, dealing with general laws, sinless and in- extinguishable, while the conscience is a faculty or an activity which concerns itself Avith the particular and is, therefore, subject to error and illusion. " The human mind makes a certain syllogism, as it were, for which the synderesis furnishes the major premise : All evil is to be avoided. But a superior reason assumes the minor premise of this syllogism, saying, Adultery is an evil because it is prohibited by God, while an inferior reason says. Adultery is 1 1221-1274. Breviloquium, Part II, chap. ii. 2 Duplicein enim indidit (Deus) reciitudinem ipsi naturae, vide- licet unam ad recte judicandum, et haec est rectitudo conscientiaB ; aliam, ad recte volendum, et hiBc est rectitudo synderesis, cujus est remurmurare contra malum et stimulare ad bonum. 8 1389-1459. * Synderesis est quidam connaturalis habitus sive connaturale lumen, cujus actus vel oflHcium est, hominem retrahere a malo murmurando contra peccatum et inclinare ad bonum. 4 32 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS an evil because it is unjust, or because it is dis- honest. But conscience draws the conclusion from the above premises: Therefore adultery is to be avoided."^ (2) We find similar views expressed by modern thinkers. Ralph Cud worth 2 regards knowledge as the product of an independent activity of the soul, or reason. " The intellection consists in the appli- cation of a given pattern thought, a ready-made category, to the phenomena and objects presented by experience. These categories or notions are a priori; they are the constant reflections of the Universal Reason, of God's mind." But they are not merely objects and products of the intellect, they form the nature or essence of things. All men have the same fundamental ideas. What is clearly and distinctly perceived is true. Among the truths which reason reveals to us are moral truths, which, like mathematical propositions, are absolute and eternal. But the soul is not a mere passive and receptive thing which has no innate active principles of its own. Good and evil, intuitive intellectual 1 Fit in animo vel in mente hominis quasi quidam syllogismus, cujus majorem prsemittit synderesis dicens, omne malum esse vitandum. Minorem vero hujus syllogismi assumit ratio superior, dicens adulterium esse malum, quia prohibitum est a Deo, ratio vero inferior dicit, adulterium esse malum, quia vel est injustum vel quia est inhonestum. Conscientia vero infert conclusionem dicens et concludens ex supradictis, ergo adulterium est vitandum. 2 1617-1688. The title of Cud worth's book is characteristic of his standpoint: Treatise concerning Eternal and Immutable Morality. —Selections in Selby-Bigge's British Moralists, Vol. II. THEORIES OF CONSCIENCE 33 categories, convey more than knowledge, and are attended by an authority pleading with the will to move in a determinate direction. Moreover, the truths of mathematics and morals are as binding on God as they are on us ; he must think and act like all rational beings.^ (3) Samuel Clarke 2 teaches that there are eternal and necessary differences and relations of things. The liuman differences are as obvious as the various sizes of physical objects, the fitness of actions and characters as obvious as the propositions of numbers and geometrical figures. Hence the moral truths, like the mathematical truths, belong to the sphere of eternal relations. The reason, divine and human, perceives these eternal differences and relations as they are. And just as no one can refuse assent to a correct mathematical proof, no one who under- stands the subject can refuse assent to moral propo- sitions. "So far as men are conscious of what is right and wrong, so far they are under obligation to act accordingly." 3 it is contrary to reason, con- trary to the eternal order of nature, to do wrong. Indeed, it is as absurd as to try to make darkness out of light, sweet out of bitter. To deny that I should do for another what he in the like case 1 For Cudworth, see especially Martineau, Types, Vol. II, Bk. II; Jodl, Geschichte der Ethik ; Sidgwick, History of Ethics. 2 I675-5I729. Discourse concerning the Unalterable Obligations of Natural Beligion. — Selections from Clarke's ethical writings in Selby-Bigge's British Moralists, Vol. II. « Op. cit., pp. 184 ff. 34 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS THEORIES OF CONSCIENCE 35 should do for me, and to deny it, " either in word or in action," "is as if a man shoukl contend that, though two and three are equal to five, yet five are not equal to two and three." God himself necessarily conforms his will to the laws of morals ; his activity must be in accord with eternal right.i ^ (4) Henry Calderwood^ belongs to the same school. We have, he says, an intuitive knowledge of the right and wrong. This knowledge is immediate, and its source is within the mind itself. " By direct insight a law is visible to us which cannot be inferred, but which regulates all inferences in morals within the area to which the law applies." The recognition of a general truth or principle of conduct is perception or intuition of the highest order. The power to recognize self-evident truth has been named Reason. Conscience, then, is that power by which moral law is immediately recognized, " it is reason discovering universal truth having the authority of sovereign moral law, and affording the basis for personal obli- gation." It is a cognitive or intellectual power, not a form of feeling, nor a combination of feelings ; and it is vested with sovereign practical authority. This authority is found in the character of the truth which conscience reveals, not in the nature of the faculty itself. "This faculty is a power of sight, making a perception of self-evident truth possible to iSee references irnder Cudworth ; also Stephen, op. cit., Vol. II. 2 1831-1897. Handbook of Moral Philosophy. i i ^ H man ; but it contributes nothing to the truth per- ceived. To this truth itself belongs inherent author- ity, by which is meant, absolute right to command, not force to constrain."^ But if conscience discovers moral law to us, how is it that there exists such diversity of moral judg- ments among men? Calderwood maintains that there is a very general agreement as to the forms of rectitude, such as truthfulness, justice, benevo- lence. No nation places these virtues in the list of moral wrongs. But men differ as to the applica- tion of these principles. Conscience cannot be educated. As well teach the eye to see, and the ear to hear, as to teach rea- son to perceive self-evident truth. But conscience can be trained in the application of the law, which can be known only through personal experience. The foregoing thinkers practically agree in the answers which they give to our question. Why do men make moral judgments? Men judge as they do because they have an innate knowledge of mo- rality, a knowledge not derived from experience, but inherent in the very nature of human reason. Rea- son immediately reveals to us moral truths, certain universal propositions which are as necessary and absolute as the truths of mathematics. Conscience is an intuition of the reason (ratio). We may call 1 Handbook, Part I, chaps, iii and iv. To the same school belong Price, Reid, Stewart, Janet, Porter, and others. I. 86 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS the philosophers who adopt this view, rationalists or intellectualists, rationalistic intuitionists. 4 The Emotional Intuitionists. - There are other philosophers who agree with the above that con- science is innate, but do not conceive it as a faculty of reason, as a faculty that pronounces universal and necessary judgments, like. Stealing is wrong, Benevolence is right. According to them we either feel or perceive that a particular act or motive is right or wrong when it is presented to us. We contemplate motives and acts, and pronounce judgment upon them when they are brought before consciousness, and we do this because we immediately and intuitively feel or perceive them to be right or wrong, not because we first compare them with an universal innate truth or proposition, delivered by the reason. - Let us consider the advocates of this view under two heads. Let us call those who regard conscience as a form oi feeling, as an emotional faculty, emotional intuition- ists; and those who base it uT^on perception, percep- tional intuitionists.! 1 v^i.hpr Shaftesbury nor Hutcheson draws a sharp distinction H^mefs clearer in his statements on this point, and more out- fpokenn his opposition to the rationalists. Butler and Marti- SS on the other hand, regard conscience as a 2n.t,ve fac^ty rt L, in t\,e sense of the rationalists. With them it is a per riirrathe: tCapower of reason proclaiming general moral txuths. THEORIES OF CONSCIENCE 37 (1) According to Lord Shaftesbury,^ man pos- sesses " self -affections which lead only to the good of the private," "natural, kind, or social affections," which lead to the public good, and " unnatural affec- tions " which lead neither to public nor private good. Virtue consists in eliminating the latter, and estab- lishing a proper harmony or balance between the others. But how can we tell whether these affec- tions are properly balanced or not? By means of the moral sense^ the sense of right and wrong, a natural possession of all rational creatures, which " no speculative opinion is capable immediately and directly to exclude or destroy." "In a creature capable of forming general notions of things," he says, "not only the outward beings which offer themselves to the sense are the objects of affection, but the very affections themselves ; and the affec- tions of pity, kindness, gratitude, and their con- traries, being brought before the mind by reflection, become objects, so that by means of this reflected sense there arises another kind of affection toward those very affections themselves which have been already felt, and are now become the subject of a new liking or dislike." ^ "No sooner are actions viewed, no sooner the human affections and passions ^1671-1713. "Inquiry concerning Virtue and Merit," con- tained in the second volume of the Characteristics. See especially Martineau ; Stephen ; Jodl ; Gizycki, Die Philosophie Shaftesbury's; Fowler, Shaftesbury and Hutcheson. — Selections in Selby-Bigge, British Moralists, Vol. L ^ inquiry, Bk. I, Part II, Section III. INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 38 discerned (and they are most of them discerned as soon as felt), than straight an inward eye distin- guishes and sees the fair and shapely, the amiable, the admirable, the foul, the odious, or the despica- ble How is it possible, then, not to own that as these distinctions have their foundation in nature, the discernment itself is natural and from nature alone ? (2) Francis Hutcheson^ follows in the same path. He regards man as being moved by two kinds of affections : self-love and benevolence. In case a conflict arises between these two motive principles, an internal principle, intuitive and universal m man, the moral ^eme, appears and decides in favor of the latter. The moral sense has always " approved ot every kind affection," has pronounced "morally good " all actions which flow from benevolent affec- tion, or intention of absolute good to others. What is the nature of this faculty? It does not, like the conscience of the rationalists, evolve general propo- sitions out of itself, but perceives virtue and vice as the eye perceives light and darkness.^ It is a " regu- lating and controlling function," "the facidty of per- 1 The Mornms, Part III, Section III. As Jodl says: "The manner in which Shaftesbury speaks of this self-reflect.on upon which 7eZZ judgment is said to depend, is somewhat nidefin.te and vacirtit" StilLhe apparently means to point out that an emotional let™" liters int'o the process by which such ^'^.-"'f ^ fj^t, Wp m« therefore, call Shaftesbury an " emotional intuitionist. t TZ-m7 imniry into the. Original of Our Ideas of Beauty ana Zul etc. -Selections from Hutcheson-s writings m Selby- ^'?I;;:;>rSeItion I, I 8 ; 5,.«e» of Moral PkUosopky, Bk 1. THEORIES OF CONSCIENCE 39 ceiving moral excellence." ^ "Some actions have to men an immediate goodness ; " "by a superior sense, which I call a moral one, we perceive pleasure in the contemplation of such actions in others, and are determined to love the agent (and much more do we perceive pleasure in being conscious of having done such actions ourselves) without any view of further natural advantage from them."^ (3) David Hume^ agrees with Hutcheson. He discusses the question " whether 'tis by meaiis of our ideas [reason] or impressions [feelings] we distin- guish between vice and virtue, and pronounce an action blamable or praiseworthy," * and finds that reason as such is wholly inactive and can never be the source of so active a principle as conscience, or a sense of morals. Vice and virtue are not discoverable merely by reason, or the comparison of ideas. Our decisions concern- ing moral rectitude and depravity are perceptions. 1 System, Bk. I. 2 Inquiry, Introduction. See especially Martineau, Types, Vol. II, Bk. II. ^ 1711-1776. Inquiry concerning the Principles of Morals, etc. For bibliograpiiy see Weber, History of Philosophy, 417, note. * Treatise on Morals, Bk. Ill, Part I, § 1 ; Inquiry, Section I: " There has been a controversy started of late concerning the general foundation of morals : whether they be derived from reason or from sentiment ; whether we attain the knowledge of them by a chain of argument and induction, or by an immediate feeling and finer internal sense ; whether, like all sound judgment of truth and falsehood, they should be the same to every rational, intelligent being ; or whether, like the perception of beauty and deformity, they be founded entirely on the particular fabric and constitution of the human species." — Selections by Hyslop. 40 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS THEORIES OF CONSCIENCE 41 Morality is more properly felt, than judged of; though this feeling or sentiment is commonly so soft and gentle that we are apt to confound it with an idea.i " The final sentence, it is probable, which pronounces characters and actions amiable or odious, blamable or praiseworthy ; that which stamps on them the mark of honor or infamy, approbation or censure ; that which renders morality an active principle, and constitutes virtue our happiness, and vice our misery : it is probable, I say, that this final sentence depends on some internal sense or feeling, which nature has made universal in the whole species." 2 And what is the nature of the feeling by which we know good and evil? To have the 1 Treatise on Morals, Bk. Ill, Part I, § 2. 2 Inquiry, Section I. See also Appendix I : " Now, as virtue is an end, and is desirable on its own account, without fee or re- ward, merely for the immediate satisfaction which it conveys, it is requisite that t^ere should be some sentiment which it touches ; some internal taste, or feeling, or whatever you choose to call it, which distinguishes moral good and evil, and which embraces the one and rejects the other. Thus the distinct boundaries and offices of reason and of taste are easily ascertained. The former conveys the knowledge of truth and falsehood, the latter gives the sentiment of beauty and deformity, vice and virtue. The one discovers objects as they really stand in nature, without addition or diminution, the other has a productive faculty, and, gilding or staining all natural objects with the colors borrowed from internal sentiment, raises, in a manner, a new creation. Reason, being cool and disengaged, is no motive to action, and directs only the impulse received from appetite or inclination, by showing us the means of attaining happiness or avoiding misery. Taste, as it gives pleasure or pain, and thereby constitutes happiness or mis- ery, becomes a motive to action, and is the first spring or impulse to desire and volition.'* sense of virtue is nothing but to feel a particular kind of satisfaction, a peculiar kind of pleasure. ^ (4) To the same school belong also J. J. Rousseau,^ Kant 3 (before the critical period), Adam Smith,* and J. F. Herbart.^ F. Brentano has attempted to strengthen the theory in a peculiar manner.^ There are, he holds, certain self-evident judgments, which carry their self-evidence in them, which it would be absurd to deny, like. Things equal to the same thing are equal to each other ; and certain instinctive or blind judgments, wliich may or may not be true, about which there can be dispute. Similarly, there are certain higher or self-evident feelings, feelings which are valid for all human beings, feelings about which there can be no dispute, and lower feel- ings, which lack this self-evident character, about which there can be dispute. Thus we love knowl- edge and truth, and dislike error and ignorance, and there can be no dispute about the value of this feel- ing. Should a different human species love error and hate truth, we should regard its loving and hating as fundamentally wrong. That a man should love knowledge and hate ignorance is self-evident ; that he should prefer champagne to Rhine-wine is 1 See Treatise, loc. cit.. Section II ; also Part III. 2 1712-1778. 3 See his Ueher die Deiitlichkeit der Grundsatze der natur- lichen Theologie und Moral, 17G4. Cf. Fcirster. Der Enticick- huujsiiaufj der Kantischen Ethik ; Jodl, Geschichte der Ethik. ^ 1723-1790. A Theortj of Moral Sentiments. ^ 1770-1841. ^ Born lb38. Vvm UrspnuKj sittlicher Erkenntniss, 1889. 42 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS not self-evident. In other words, we have an innate feeling of preference for the good.^ 6. The Perceptional Intuitionists. — In this class belong Bishop Butler, James Martineau, and W. E. H. Lecky. With them conscience is intuitive, hut neither a feeling, as the foregoing thinkers declare, nor the product of reason in the Cudworthian sense, but an inner perception. 1(1) According to Butler,^ there is a superior principle of reflection or conscience in every man, which distinguishes between the internal principles of his heart as well as his external actions ; which passes judgment upon himself and them, and pro- nounces determinately some actions to be in them- selves evil, wrong, unjust ; which without being consulted, without being advised with, magisterially exerts itself, and approves or condemns him the doer of them accordingly. It is by this faculty, natural to man, that he is a moral agent, that he is a law to himself, but this faculty, not to be considered merely as a principle in his heart, which is to have some influence as well as others, but considered as a faculty in kind and in nature supreme over all others, and which bears its own authority of being so. You cannot form a notion of this faculty, con- 1 Hermann Scliwarz, GrundzUge dor Ethik, is an emotional intuitionist of the Hutclieson stamp. We feel intuitively the worth of sympathy to be higher than that of selfishness. 2 1692-1752. Sermons upon Human Nature. See also Disserta- tion upon Virtue. Works edited by Gladstone, 1897. Selections in Selby-Bigge, British Moralists, Vol. I. See Collins, Butler. THEd^IES OF CONSCIENCE 43 science, without taking in judgment, direction, superintendency. This is a constituent part of the idea, that is, of the faculty itself, and to preside and govern, from the very economy and constitution of man, belongs to it. Had it strength, as it had right, had it power as it had manifest authority, it would absolutely govern the world. "What obli- gations are we under to attend to and follow it ? Your obligation to obey this law is its being the law of your nature. That your conscience approves of and attests to such a course of action is itself alone an obligation. Conscience does not only offer itself to show us the way we should walk in, but it like- wise carries its own authority with it, that it is our natural guide, the guide assigned us by the author of our nature," etcl^ " The whole moral law is as much matter of revealed command, as positive insti- tutions are, for the Scripture enjoins every moral virtue. In this respect, then, they are both upon a level. But the moral law is moreover written upon our hearts, interwoven into our very nature. And this is a plain intimation of the author of it, which is to be preferred when they interfere. "2 (2) Martineau's^ modification of the intuitional theory is unique. On the simple testimony of our perceptive faculty, he says, we believe in the per- ceived object and the perceiving self. " This dual conviction rests upon the axiom that we must ac- 1 Sermon iii. 2 Analocfy of Religion, Part II, chap. i. 2 1805-1900. Types of Ethical Theory. 44 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS cept as veracious the immediate depositions of our faculties, and that the postulates, without which the mind cannot exert its activity at all, possess the high- est certainty." We ask no more than this on behalf of our ethical psychology. Let perception be dicta- tor among the objects of sense ; conscience, as to the conditions of duty.^ Now we have an irresistible tendency to approve and disapprove, to pass judgments of right and wrong. We judge persons, not things, and we judge always the inner spring of action.^ Hence, we judge first ourselves, then others. We could not judge other men's actions if what they sig- nified were not already familiar to us by our own inner experience. But we cannot judge an inner spring of action if it is the only thing in conscious- ness. A plurality of inner principles is an indis- pensable condition of moral judgment.^ There must be several impulses (incompatible impulses) present. Without them the moral consciousness would sleep. As soon as this condition is realized, "we are sensible of a contrast between them other than of mere intensity or of qualitative variety — not analogous to the difference between loud and soft, or between red and bitter, — but requiring quite a separate phraseology for its expression, such as this : that one is Uglier, ivorthier, than the other, and in comparison with it has the clear right to us. 1 Types, Vol. II, Part II, Introduction. 2 76., pp. 18 ff. 8/6., p. 37. THEORIES OF CONSCIENCE 45 This apprehension is no mediate discovery of ours, of which we can give an account, but is immediately inherent in the very experience of the principles them- selves — a revelation inseparable from their appear- ance side by side." ^ It is unique and unanalyzable. "The whole ground of ethical procedure con- sists in this : that we are sensible of a graduated scale of excelleiice among our natural principles, quite distinct from the order of their intensity and irre- spective of the range of their external effects." The sensibility of the mind to the gradations of the scale is conscience^ the knowledge with oneself of the bet- ter and the worse. ^ It is the critical perception we have of the relative authority of our own several principles of action. All moral discrimination has its native seat in conscience ; we first feel differences in our own springs of action, and then apply this knowledge to the corresponding ones betrayed in others by their conduct. But how comes it that men are not unanimous in their apparent moral judgments ? This is easy to understand. " The whole scale of inner principles is open only to the survey of the ripest mind, and to be perfect in its appreciation is to have exhausted the permutations of human experience. To all actual men, a part only is familiar, often a deplor- ably small part. Still, however limited the range of our moral consciousness, it would lead us all to the 1 Types, Vol. II, Part II, p. 44. 2 lb., p. 53. See also p. 266, where Martineau gives a table of the springs of action in the ascending order of worth. 46 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS same verdicts had we all the same segment of the series under cognizance."^ Conscience speaks with authority. This author- ity is a simple feeling, admitting of little analysis or explanation.2 But it is not simply subjective, not of my own making, not a mere self-assertion of my own will. How can that be a mere self-assertion of my own will, to which my own will is the first to bend in homage ? " The authority which reveals itself within us reports itself, not only as underived from our will, but as independent of our idiosyncrasies altogether."^ If the sense of authority means any- thing, it means the discernment of something higher than we, no mere part of ourself, but transcending our personality. It is more than part and parcel of myself, " it is the communion of God's life and guid- ing love entering and abiding with an apprehensive capacity in myself.* Here we encounter an objec- tive authority without quitting our own centre of consciousness." A man is a " law unto himself," not by " autonomy of the individual " (as Green would say), but by " self -communication of the infinite spirit to the soul " ; and the law itself, the idea of an abso- lute " should be," is authoritative with conscience, because it is a deliverance of the eternal perfection to a mind that has to grow, and is imposed, there- fore, by the infinite upon the finite.^ 1 Types, Vol. II, Part II, p. 61. ^ 75., p. 99. 8 76., p. 102. ^ lb., p. 105. 5 For Lecky's view, see the first chapter of his Histojij of Euro- pean Morals, especially pp. 55, 68 ff., 75, 120, 121 note, 122 ff. THEORIES OF CONSCIENCE 47 The thinkers whom we have considered thus far are all intuitionists, either rational, emotional, or perceptional. According to them we have an innate knowledge of moral distinctions. The truths are either engraved on the mind, or revealed by a supe- rior rational faculty ; or wefeel or perceive immedi- ately upon the presentation in consciousness of a certain motive or act that it is right or wrong. Conscience is an ultimate, original factor, not further to be explained, except perhaps by conceiving it as implanted in the soul of man by God. 6. The Empiricists. — But there is another school of moralists, which denies that the conscience is innate, and attempts to explain it as an acquisition,^ as a product of experience. We have no special moral faculty which intuitively distinguishes between right and wrong. Our knowledge of morality is, like all other knowledge, acquired by experience. We may call the advocates of this view empiricists (from the Greek word efiiretpia, empeiria, experience). (1) Thus Thomas Hobbes^ says: "It is either science or opinion which we commonly mean by the word conscience ; for men say that such a thing is true in or upon their conscience; w-hich they never do when 1 Some of the later mediaeval thinkers, like Duns Scotus and Occam, reject the view that we have an innate knowledge of morality, and hold that we know right and wrong simply because God reveals it to us in the Scriptures. See Lecky, European Morals, chap, i, p. 17. 2 1588-1(}79. Selections from Hobbes's ethical wriiings by Sneath, and in Selby-Bigge, British Moralists, Vol. II. 48 INTRODUCTION- TO ETHICS they think it doubtful, and therefore they know, or think they know it to be true. But men, when they say things upon their conscience, are not therefore presumed certainly to know the truth of what they say : it remaineth tlien that that word is used by them that have an opinion, not only of the truth of a thing, but also of their knowledge of it; to which the truth of the proposition is .consequent. Con- science I therefore define to be opinion of evidence.'''^ A o-ain : " I conceive that when a man deliberates whether he shall do a thing or not do it, he does nothing else but consider whether it be better for himself to do it or not to do it." 2 " Moral philosophy is nothing else but the science of what is good and evil in the conversation and society of mankind. Good and evil are names, that signify our appetites and aversions, which in different tempers, customs, and doctrines of men are different, and divers men differ not only in their judgment on the senses of what is pleasant and unpleasant — but also of what is conformable or disagreeable to reason in the actions of common life."^ (2) With all this John Locke* practically agrees. He, too, rejects the teaching that there are innate ideas or truths, either "speculative" or "practical." Na- ture has put into man a desire of happiness and an aversion to misery, and these are natural tendencies 1 Human Nature, chap, vi, § 8. ^ On Liberty and Necessity. 8 Leviathan, chap. xv. See Lecky, European Morals, chap. i. For bibliography see Weber, History of Philosophy, p. 301 note. * 1632-1704. THEORIES OF CONSCIENCE 49 or practical principles which influence all our actions.^ That which is apt to cause pleasure in us we call good, that which has an aptness to cause pain we call evil.'^ Now God has so arranged it that certain modes of conduct produce public happiness and preserve society, and also benefit the agent himself. Men discover these and accept them as rules of practice.^ To these rules are annexed certain re- wards and punishments, either by God (rewards and punishments of infinite weight and duration in an- other life) or ^ men (legal punishments, popular approbation or condemnation, loss of reputation), wliich are goods and evils not the natural product and consequence of the actions themselves.* Men then refer to these rules or laws, z.e., the law of God, the law of politic society, the law of fashion or private censure, and comj^are their actions to them. They judge of the moral rectitude of their acts according as these agree or do not agree with the rules.^ Moral good and evil, then, is only the con- formity or disagreement of our voluntary action to some law, whereby good and evil is drawn on us by the will and power of the lawmaker.^ Hence con- science is "nothing else but our opinion or judgment of the moral rectitude or pravity of our actions."^ 1 Essay Concerning Human Understanding, Bk. I, chap, iii, § 3. See also the notes in Locke's Common-Place Book, published by Lord King. 2 lb., Bk. II, chap, xx, § 2 ; chap, xxi, §§ 42 f. « lb., Bk. II, chap, iii, § 6. * lb., Bk. II, chap, xxviii, §§ 6 ff. * lb., § 13. 6 lb., § 5. 7 lb., Bk. I, chap. t»t § 8. 50 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS "Many men may come to assent to several moral rules and be convinced of their obligation in the same way in which they come to the knowledge of other things. Others may come to be of the same mind from their education, company, and customs of their country ; which persuasion, however got, will serve to set conscience on work. Thus we make moral judgments without having any rules ' written on our hearts.' Some men with the same bent of conscience prosecute what others avoid." ^ We may also reach a knowledge of morality by reasoning from certain first principles, which, how- ever, are also derived from experience. Knowledge is the perception of the connection and agreement or disagreement and repugnancy of any of our ideas.2 When we perceive this agreement or disagreement of two ideas immediately, i.e., without the interven- tion of any other, we have intuitive knowledge.^ But when we need other ideas with which to compare our two ideas in order to discover their agreement or disagreement, we have reasoning or demonstration, and the knowledge thus acquired is called demon- strative.'^ But in order that we may reach certainty, there must be, in every step reason makes in de- monstrative knowledge, an intuitive knowledge of the agreement or disagreement it seeks with the next intermediate idea; i.e., every step in reason- 1 Essay Concernino Human Understanding, Bk. I, chap, iii, § 8. 2 76., Bk. IV, chap, i, §§ 2 ff. 8 /&., chap, ii, § 1. * 1^'^ chap, ii, §§ 2 ff. THEORIES OF CONSCIENCE 51 ing that produces knowledge must have intuitive certainty.^ Now morality is capable of demonstration as well as mathematics. For the precise real essence of the tilings for which moral words stand may be perfectly known, and so the congruity and incongruity of the things themselves may be certainly discovered, in which consists perfect knowledge. ^ All that is nec- essary is that men search after moral truths in the same method and with the same indifferency as they do mathematical truths. ^ "He that hath the idea of an intelligent, but frail and weak, being, made by and depending on another who is eternal, omnipotent, perfectly wise and good, will as certainly know that man is to honor, fear, and obey God, as that the sun shines when he sees it. For if lie hath but the ideas of two such beings in his mind, and will turn his thoughts that way, he will as certainly find that the inferior, finite, and dependent is under an obliga- tion to obey the supreme and infinite, as he is certain to find that three, four, and seven, are less than fifteen, if he will consider and compute those numbers; nor can he be surer in a clear morning that the sun is risen, if he but open his eyes, and turn them that way. But yet these truths, being ever so certain, ever so clear, he may be ignorant of 1 Essay Concerning Human Understanding, Bk. IV, chap, ii, § 7. 2 76., Bk. Ill, chap, xi, § 16. Cf. also Bk. IV, chap, iii, §§ 18, 20 ; chap, xii, § 8. 3 lb., Bk. IV, chap, iii, § 20. 52 INTRODUCTION' TO ETHICS either, or all of them, who will never take the pains to employ his faculties, as he should to inform him- self about them."i ^xhe idea of a supreme Being, infinite in power, goodness, and wisdom, whose workmanship we are, and on whom we depend ; and the idea of ourselves, as understanding rational beings ; being such as are clear in us, would, I sup- pose, if duly considered and pursued, afford such foundations of our duty and rules of action as might place morality among the sciences capable of demon- stration : wherein I doubt not but from self-evident propositions by necessary consequences, as incontes- table as those in mathematics, the measures of right and wrong might be made out to any one that will apply himself with the same indifferency and atten- tion to the one as he does to the other of these sciences. The relation of other modes may certainly be perceived, as well as those of number and exten- sion : and I cannot see why they should not also be capable of demonstration if due methods were thought on to examine or pursue their agreement or disagreement. Where there is no property there is no injustice, is a proposition as certain as any demonstration in Euclid : for the idea of property being the right to anything, and the idea to which the name injustice is given being the invasion or violation of that right, it is evident that these ideas being thus established, and these names annexed 1 Essay Concerning Human Understanding, Bk. IV, chap, xiv, §4. THEORIES OF CONSCIENCE 53 to them, I can as certainly know this proposition to be true; as that a triangle has three angles equal to two right ones. Again: No government allows absolute liberty; the idea of government being the establishment of certain rules or laws which require conformity to them, and the idea of absolute liberty being for any one to do whatever he pleases, I am as capable of being certain of the truth of this proposition as of any in mathematics." i (3) The Frenchman, Helvetius,2 does not materially differ from Hobbes and Locke. The moral sense is by no means innate; 3 indeed, everything except self- love, that is, the aversion to pain and the desire for pleasure, is acquired. " In all times and at all places, in matters of morals as well as in matters of mind, it is personal interest which governs the judgment of individuals ; and general or public interest, which determines that of nations. . . . Every man has re- gard in his judgments, for nothing but his own inter- est."* Consequently, the only way to make him moral is to make him see his own welfare in the public welfare, and this can be done by legislation only, i.e,, by means of the proper rewards and punishments. Hence "the science of morals is nothing but the science of legislation. "^ 1 Essay Concerning Human Understanding, Bk. IV, chap, iii, § 18. 1715-1771. DeVesprit; DeVhomme. Bibliography in PTefter. ' De Phomme, Section V, chaps, iii, iv ; Section II, chaps, vii, vUi.* * De Vesprit, Discourse ii. lb., II, 17. Similar to the views of Helv^tius are those 54 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS (4) Even the author of the Evidences of Christian- ity, William Paley,^ denies the existence of a moral sense.2 u Upon the whole," he says, "it seems to me, either that there exist no such instincts as com- pose what is called the moral sense [here Paley opposes Hume] or that they are not now to be dis- tinguished from prejudices and liabits ; on which account they cannot be depended upon in moral reasoning," etc.^ "Virtue is the doing good to mankind, in obedience to the will of God, and for the sake of everlasting happiness." * "We can be obliged to nothing but what we ourselves are to gain or lose something by : for nothing else can be a violent motive to us. As we should not be obliged to obey the laws of the magistrate, unless rewards and punishments, pleasure or pain, some- how or other, depended upon our obedience ; so neither should we, without the same reason, be obliged to do what is right, to practise virtue, or to obey the commands of God."^ The difference between an act of prudence and an act of duty is of Mandeville (1670-1703, author of The Fable of the Bees, or Private Vices made ruhlic Bcnejits), Lamettrie (170:)-1751, author of Vhomme machine, Disconrs sur le bonheur), and Hol- bach (1728-1780, author of St/iiteme cle la nature). All these thinkers are materialists. See especially Lange, History of Mate- rialism; Jodl, Geschichte der Ethik ; Martineau, Types, Vol. II, pp. 312 ff. ; Lecky, Morals, chap. i. 1 1743-1803. 2 See his Principles of Moral and Political Philosophy. s lb., Bk. I, chap. v. * lb., Bk. I, chap. vii. 6 lb., Bk. II, chap. 11. THEORIES OF CONSCIENCE 55 that, "in the one case, we consider what we shall gain or lose in the present world ; in the other case, we consider also what we shall gain or lose in the world to come."^ (5) Jeremy Bentham's 2 statements on this point are not more radical. He says : "Nature has placed mankind under the governance of two sovereign masters, pain and pleasure. It is for them alone to point out what we ought to do, as well as to deter- mine what we shall do."^ "Conscience is a thing of fictitious existence supposed to occupy a seat in the mind."* Conscience is the favorable or unfavor- able opinion a man has of his own conduct, and has value only in so far as it conforms to the principle of utility. It is utterly useless to speak of duties, he declares ; the word itself has something disagree- able and repulsive in it. While the moralist is speaking of duties, each man is thinking of his own interests.^ According to the philosophers whom we have just been considering, man is by birth a moral igno- ramus who desires his own happiness. He comes in contact with fellows similarly endowed, and in order to live with them must obey certain rules. The tion 1 Principles of Moral and Political Philosophy, Bk. II, chap. iii. 2 1748-1842. See especially Principles of Morals and Legisla- 2 Principles of Morals, etc., chap. i. * Deontology, Xo\. I, p. 137. ^ For Beutham, see especially Lecky and Martineau, op. cit. 56 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS THEORIES OF CONSCIENCE 67 I pains and pleasures annexed to these laws point out to him the course to pursue. Pleasure and pain are the great teachers of morality. (6) But, it might be asked, how on this scheme can we explain the fact that men pronounce judg- ment upon acts' without thinking about the pleas- ures and pains they produce ? How does it happen that men love virtue for virtue's sake? An ingenious theory, the so-called theory of asso- ciation of ideas, is brought in to settle this difficulty .^ David Hartley 2 attempts to show how the moral sense is formed in a purely mechanical way. Man is at first governed solely by his pleasures and pains. He soon learns to associate his pleasures with that which pleases him, and then loves this for its own sake. The infant connects the idea of its mother with the pleasure she procures it, and so comes to love her for her own sake. Money in itself pos- sesses nothing that is admirable or pleasurable ; it is a means of procuring objects of desire, and so becomes associated in our minds with the idea of pleasure. Hence the miser comes to love it for its own sake, and is willing to forego the things which the money procures rather than part with a fraction of his gold. In the same way the moral sentiments are formed. They procure for us many advantages which we love, and we gradually trans- 1 We find the beginnings of this theory in Hobbes, Locke, Hutcheson, Gay, and Tucker. See Lecky, Vol. I, pp. 22 ff. 2 1705-1757. Observations on Man. I fer our affections from these to the things which procure them, and love virtue for virtue's sake.^ (7) The most careful and detailed explanation of the moral faculty from this standpoint is given by Alexander Bain.2 According to him, conscience is an imitation within ourselves of the government without us. The first lesson that the child learns as a moral agent is obedience. " The child's suscepti- bility to pleasure and pain is made use of to bring about this obedience, and a mental association is rap- idly formed between disobedience and apprehended pain, more or less magnified by fear." Forbidden actions arouse a certain dread ; the fear of encoun- tering pain is conscience in its earliest germ. The sentiment of love or respect toward persons in authority infuses a different species of dread, the dread of giving pain to a beloved o])ject. Later on, the child learns to appreciate the reasons or motives that led to the imposition of the rules of conduct. "When the young mind is able to take notice of the use and meaning of the prohibitions imposed upon it, and to approve of the end intended by them, a new motive is added, and the conscience is then a triple compound, and begirds the action in 1 On Man, Vol. I, pp. 473-475 ; Vol. II, 338 f. See Lecky, Vol. I, pp. 22 ff., 67 note ; Ribot, La psychologie anglaise contemporaine. This view is developed by James Mill {Analysis of the Human Mind, Vol. II), and John Stuart Mill (1806-1873), Utilitarianism, especially pp. 40-42, 44, 45, 46, 53 ff. 2 Born 1818. The Emotions and the Will ; Mental and Moral Science. i i 58 INTRODUCTIO^f TO ETHICS THEORIES OF CONSCIENCE 59 question with a threefold fear ; the last ingredient being paramount in the maturity of the sympathies and the reason. All that we understand by the authority of conscience, the sentiment of obligation, the feeling of right, the sting of remorse, — can be nothing else than so many modes of expressing the acquired aversion and dread toward actions asso- ciated in the mind with the consequences now stated." But there may not be present to a man's mind any of these motives, namely, the fear of retribution, or the respect to the authority commanding, affec- tion or sympathy toward the persons or interests for whose sake the duty is imposed, his own advantage indirectly concerned, his religious feeling, his indi- vidual sentiments in accord with the spirit of the pre- cept, or the infection of example. " Just as in the love of money for its own sake, one may come to form a habit of acting in a particular way, although the special impulses that were the original moving causes no longer recur to the mind." Here we have a case of the sense of duty in the abstract. This does not prove, however, that there exists a primi- tive sentiment of duty in the abstract, any more than the conduct of the miser proves that we are born with the love of gold in the abstract. " It is the tendency of association to erect new centres of force, detached from the particulars that originally gave them meaning ; which new creations will sometimes assemble round themselves a more powerful body of I ■A i sentiment than could be inspired by any one of the constituent realities." ^ We have examined t\i^ extreme rationalistic and empiristic views of conscience. According to one school, conscience is a natural endowment of man ; the moral truths are inherent in his very nature ; his soul is a tablet with moral laws written upon it. According to the other, conscience is not original, but acquired in the life of the individual. The soul is at birth an empty tablet, having no moral truths written upon it. 7. Reconciliation of Intuitionism and Empiri- cism. — Let us now consider some attempts that have been made to reconcile this opposition. Kant approaches the problem from the rationalistic side, Spencer from the empiristic.^ Kant repudiates the extreme rationalistic thesis that we have an innate knowledge of particular moral truths, and regards as the a priori element the category of obligation, a general moral form whose content is filled by experi- ence.3 Spencer, on the other hand, concedes the 1 Emotions, 3d ed., chap, xv, §§ 18 ff. ; The Will, chap, x, es- pecially 5^§ 8 ff. ; also chapter on " Moral Faculty," in 3Iental and Moral Science. For criticism of Bain, see Calderwood, Handbook, Tart. I, Div. II, chap. iii. 2 It is worthy of note that both of these philosophers were at one time believers in the moral-sense doctrine of Shaftesbury and Hutcheson. See p. 41, note 3, and Spencer's first edition of the Social Statics. ^ His theory reminds one of the mediaeval conception of the synderesis. 60 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS presence of an a priori element, and denies that the conscience is merely an acquisition of individual experience. Let us examine the views of these thinkers a little more in detail. (1) In his Kritik of Pure Reason Immanuel Kanti asks the question, How is knowledge pos- sible, or how is it possible that man can make synthetic judgments a priori? Experience fur- nishes us with only a limited number of cases; it cannot give us universality and necessity. Are these universal and necessary truths innate, as old rationalism asserted? Not exactly, Kant an- swers. The mind is endowed with certain functions or principles or forms or categories, which are not derived from experience, but are prior to experience, hence a priori or pure. Though we may not be conscious of them, they act in every rational crea- ture. The senses furnish the mind with the raw materials, while the sensibility and the understand- ing, the two powers of the mind, arrange them according to the forms of space, time, causality, etc. Thus, for example, I see all things in space because my mind functions according to the space form. When I judge that heat expands bodies, I have ideas of heat, expansion, and bodies, elements ulti- mately furnished by sensation, and the idea that the heat is the cause of the expansion, the notion of 1 1729-1804. For Kant's ethics, see Cohen, KanVs Begrundung der Ethik; Schurman, Kantian Ethics and the Ethics of Evolu- tion ; Porter, KanVs Ethics ; Paulsen, Kant ; translation of Kant's ethical writings by Abbott, KanVs Tlieory of Ethics. THEORIES OF CONSCIENCE 61 causality, which is not derived from sensation, but which is a way my intellect has of looking at things. Tliese forms or categories are, as it were, the colored glasses through which the theoretical reason views the world. ^ However, we approach the world not merely from the theoretical standpoint, but from the practical or moral standpoint; Ave say not only what ^«, but what ought to he. The reason not only arranges its phenomena in space, time, and according to the causal law, but also commands that they be arranged according to the moral law. Its commands are unconditional, absolute, or categorical imperatives; it speaks with authority: Thou shalt. Thou shalt not. "The theoretical use of reason is that by which I know a priori (as necessary) that something is, while the practical use of reason is that by which I know a priori what ought to be." I assume that there really exist pure moral laws, which determine completely a priori the conduct of every rational creature. I can with justice presuppose the prop- osition because I can appeal not only to the proofs of the most enlightened moralists, but also to the moral judgment of every human being.2 Now the question is. How is all this possible? Knowledge is possible, as we have seen, because of 1 For Kant's theory of knowledge, see the histories of philos- opny, e.g., Weber, where a bibliography is found. 2 i{:ruik of Pure Reason, Max Muller's translation, pp. 510, 647. See also Abbott's translation of the ethical writings, pp. 28, 97 f., 11«7, loo. 62 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS certain innate or a priori forms or conditions which make it necessary for the mind to function as it functions. But how is morality possible ? Are the different imperatives or moral laws innate, as Cud- worth and men of his ilk w^ould assert? No, says Kant, not exactly. But there is present in the 'practical reason a formal principle or condition, a form or category of obligation or oughtneiiS, not derived from experience, but prior to it, a priori, a universally valid law, by virtue of which man is a moral being. i And, what does this categorical im- perative enjoin? we ask. Kant answers, "Act so that the maxim of thy will can always at the same time hold good as a principle of universal legisla- tion." 2 That is, do not perform acts of which thou canst not will that they become universal. The deceiver cannot will that lying should become a uni- versal law, for with such a law there would be no promises at all; and his maxim would necessarily destroy itself. This law or maxim is valid for all rational creatures generally, not only under cei-tain contingent conditions, but ivith absohite necessity. Although common men do not conceive it in such an abstract and universal form, yet they always really have it before their eyes, and use it as the standard of their decision. ^ 1 See Abbott, Kant's Theory of Ethics, p. 28. 2 76., pp. 17 ff., 38 ff. «/6., pp. 20, 21, 93, 120 note, 192, 311, 321, 343. "Man (even the worst) does not in any maxim, as it were, rebelliously abandon the moral law (and renounce obedience to it). On the THEORIES OF CONSCIENCE 63 There is, then, a moral imperative inlierent in the very nature of man, which categorically commands. But the question is. Whence does it come? Is it tlie voice of a suprasensible being speaking in the heart of man ? In a certain sense, yes. It is the product of the free will, of the intelligible ego, of the thing-in-itself.i "Freedom is the ratio essendi of the moral law," that is, the free will imposes the law upon itself ; and the moral law is " the ratio cognoscendi of freedom," that is, we must logically conclude from the fact that there is a categorical • imperative in us, that tliere is a free will which im- poses it. 2 " The question, then, how a categorical imperative is possible, can be answered to this ex- tent, that we can assign the only hypothesis on which it is possible, namely, the idea of freedom ; and we can also discern the necessity of this hypothesis, and this is sufficient for the i^ractical exercise of reason, that is, for the conviction of the validity of this inl perative, and hence of the moral law : but how this hypothesis itself is possible can never be discerned by any human reason. "3 contrary, this forces itself upon him irresistibly by virtue of his moral nature, and if no other spring opposed it, 'he would also adopt It mto his ultimate maxim as the adequate determininns pp. 325 if. See also in this connection Locke's E^say, Hk. I, chap. II. ^' * First Footsteps in Eastern Africa^ p. 176. ^ Wahali, p. 121. 88 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS ANALYSIS OF CONSCIENCE 89 x. regard most of the vices as virtues. Theft, arson, rape, and murder are among them regarded as the means of distinction ; and the young Indian from childhood is taught to regard killing as the highest of virtues." 1 "In Tahiti, the missionaries consid- ered that no less than two-thirds of the children were murdered by their parents." ^ "Indeed, I do not remember a single instance in which a savage is recorded as having shown any symptoms of remorse ; and almost the only case I can recall to mind, in which a man belonging to one of the lower races has accounted for an act by saying explicitly that it was right, was when Mr. Hunt asked a young Fijian why he had killed his mother." ^ Darwin does not believe that the primitive conscience would reproach a man for injuring his enemy. "Rather it would reproach him, if he had not revenged himself. To do good in return for evil, to love your enemy, is a height -T>f morality to which it may be doubted whether the social instincts would, by themselves, (I have ever led us. It is necessary that these in- stincts, together with sympathy, should have been highly cultivated and extended by the aid of reason, instruction, and the love or fear of God, before any such golden rule would be thought of and obeyed."* (3) We cannot, therefore, prove the innateness of conscience by referring to principles that are uni- 1 Lubbock, Origin of Civilization, pp. 397, 398. 2 II), 8 76., p. 405. * The Descent of Man, p. 113 note. versally recognized as right. Some moralists grant the truth of this statement, but still maintain that conscience is innate. It is true, they declare, that the moral judgments of mankind diverge, that one age or tribe may approve of what another condemns. But all times and peoples agree that some form of conduct is better, higher, nobler than another, that right is better than wrong, that we bow down be- fore authority. This is practically the theory advocated by the Schoolmen,^ who held that we have an innate faculty, the synderesis, which tells us that the right ought to be done and the wrong avoided. There is, however, no such faculty as the one spoken of here. The proposition. The right ought to be done and the wrong avoided, is, like all general statements of the kind, the result of abstraction. We find bjr experience that many particular acts are accompanied in consciousness by feelings of obliga- tion and approval, and that others are associated with feelings of disapproval and deterrence. We bring these acts under general heads, and call the former right, the latter wrong. To say that right acts ought to be performed and wrong ones avoided, simply means that certain forms of conduct arouse feelings of obligation and approval, and others the reverse. The proposition, therefore, that we ought to do the right and refrain from the wrong, is a general expression of the fact that we feel obliged to perform certain actions and to refrain from 1 See chap, ii, § 3 (1). 90 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS ANALYSIS OF CONSCIENCE 91 others ; it is a universal proposition, an inference drawn from the facts of experience, not an a priori judgment of the reason. (4) Even if it were true that certain moral judg- ments were universally accepted, this would not necessarily prove them to be innate. They might be the products of universally prevalent conditions. (5) Nor can we prove the innateness of conscience from ''the self -evidence and necessity" of some of its deliverances. It is true that such propositions as : Stealing is wrong. Murder is wrong, Honesty is right, etc., seem necessary and self-evident to us children of the nineteenth century. But they may be satisfactorily explained without our having re- course to the doctrine of nativism, which is, after all, merely a confession of ignorance. As we saw before, the ideas of certain acts, say of murder and self-sac- rifice, are accompanied in consciousness by pecul- iar feelings called moral feelings, feelings which are lacking when we think of other acts or things. I have no such sentiments when I perceive or think of a tree or a mountain. Whenever these feelings sur- round an idea, we call that for which it stands right or wrong. To say that stealing, or any particular deed, is wrong, means that the idea of that act is asso- ciated in my mind with feelings of disapproval, etc. Hence the judgment, Stealing is wrong, is equiva- lent to the proposition that an act which is con- demned and prohibited is condemned and prohibited. The words, stealing, adultery, robbery, murder, etc.. contain everything that is expressed in the predi- cate, wrong or bad; they express not only ideas of acts, but our attitude toward these acts. The judg- ment in question is what Kant would call an analyt- ical judgment, i.e., one in which the predicate is but a repetition of the subject. Such judgments are always necessary and self-evident ; the predicate is identical with, or only another way of writing, the subject. And when I perceive an act to be right or wrong, it is because that act arouses feelings in me in consequence of which I approve or disapprove of it.i 7. Criticism of Emotional Intuitionism. -^li all this is so, the question concerning the innateness of con- science or moral judgment must be formulated in a slightly different manner. Are the moral feelings, we now ask, which accompany certain ideas, the original associates of those ideas? That is, do the deeds which we now designate as right and wrong always arouse, and have they always aroused, in the consciousness, the feelings mentioned before? We can hardly assert it. One age, or race, or nation, or class, or sect, or even intlividual, may regard an act as right which another views with indifference or abhorrence. We cannot read without a thrill of pain and horror the accounts of gladia- torial contests which the purest Roman virgin wit- nessed without the slightest moral compunction. 1 See Paulsen, Ethics, Bk. II, chap v, § 4 ; R6e, Die Entstehung dcs Gewissens. ^wnro»iB^™;^.-««'pi'*«^^fWy-»S: 92 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS ANALYSIS OF CONSCIENCE 93 ^i The orthodox Jew is conscience-stricken for hav- ing lighted a fire in his house on the Sabbath, the Hindoo for having occasioned the death of a cow, the Turkish woman for exposing her face. The ancient Icelander regarded revenge not merely as sweet, but as praiseworthy and honorable, and "it most likely had never entered the mind of the Celtic chief that robbery merely as robbery was a wicked and disgraceful act." ^ If these feelings of obligation, etc., were the original and inseparable associates of certain modes of con- duct, we should expect every age and race to pro- nounce the same judgments. It would not be possible either to add these feelings to certain ideas or to sub- tract them from them. We should not be able to I educate them away, so to speak. The truth is, our parents and teachers not only arouse ideas in our minds, but also surround these ideas with a moral fringe. The words of the language which they teach us to understand and to speak, express not only thoughts, but value%. The t^£ini3, murder, rohhery, theft, benevolence, veracity, sacrifice, stand not merely for acts and modes of conduct and dispositions of the /will, but for our feelings and impulses in reference / to them. The past transmits to the present its ideas with the moral halos encircling them. The present frequently changes its values, and so it happens that acts which were once associated in consciousness \ with the moral sentiments lose the fringe which once 1 Macaulay. Quoted by Bain, Emotions and Will, P- 280. surrounded them, or arouse new associations. The sinner of yesterday becomes the saint of to-morrow. 8. Genesis of Conscience. — Let us now see how 4 the process of moralization goes on. The connec- (tion between the moral feelings and the ideas of 'pertain acts is largely brought about by education. Children are made to observe that certain acts do not meet with the approval of their surroundings. Frowns, austere looks, shakes of the head, stern words, and other signs of displeasure precede and follow certain modes of conduct. The child impul- sively imitates these outward manifestations of dis- approval at an early age, and so begins to feel a certain kind of uneasiness in connection with certain acts himself. He also feels pain and anger when certain acts are directed against himself, and instinc- tively resents them, or fj-owns them down. Words spoken to him in an 'authoritative manner by a parent or any other superior arouse in his conscious- ness feelings of coercion and restraint ; he feels instinctively that he must do a certain act or leave it undone.^ 1 See Sully, The Human Mind, Vol. II, pp. 164 f. : "The force of a command on a child cannot be wholly attributed to experience and prevision of consequences. It shows itself too early, and is out of proportion to the range and intensity of the experiences of punishment. Here then we have, as it seems, to do with a 'residual phenomenon,' which we must regard as instinctive. This instinctive deference to an uttered command is in part referrible to the superior power of external stimuli, or sense-presentations gen- erally in our mental life. A command given with emphasis (spe- cial loudness and distinctness of tone, accompanied by intent 94 INTRODUCTION' TO ETHICS \ The performance of acts which are frowned down and prohibited by direct command is frequently- followed by consequences of a disagreeable kind, natural as well as artificial, and the vague remem- brance of these arouses fear and aversion. The child also often hears that there are other, mysteri- ous beings who will punish him for disobedience, and the fear produced by the prospect is all the more intense because of the uncerj:ainty and mystery of the imagined evil.^ In the course of time he is told that there is a C^d, and that this God dis- approves of and punishes offences. And then the instinctive craving for recognition, the desire to be well thought of, which may become more and more intensified, assists in turning the individual from certain kinds of behavior, and attracts him to others. look) is the most powerful way of initiating or bringing on the corresponding movement (or inhibition of movement). In this respect it stands on a level with the actual presentation of an action by another, which, as we shall see, has a powerful tendency to call forth an imitative response. This force of external verbal suggestion, the effect of which we have already seen in the domain of normal belief, is illustrated further in the phenomena of hyp- notic suggestion, which Guyau has recently brought into an in- structive analogy with the moral influence of education. (Guyau considers that suggestion sets up in the hypnotized subject a sense of 'must,' or of obligation closely analogous to a moral feeling. See his volume. Education and Heredity, English translation, chap, i.) The natural impulse to comply with commands is, how- ever, more than this, and involves a rudiment of regard of what others think and say of us as intrinsically valuable, — that is to say, what we have dealt with under the head, love of approbation." 1 The small boy's vague conception of the goblins makes the threat that the goblins will get him all the more alarming. ANALYSIS OF CONSCIENCE 95 Afterward, when synuv,thy develops, lovo begins to play an important part as a motive to action. The child's affection for persons around him and the God above him makes him anxious to avoid causing displeasure. He suffers with others, the thought of hurting them hurts him, and deters him from certain acts. With the growth of intellis-ence the agent learns to understand the ratiomde of certain prohi- bitions, and is deterresite forms of these ethical sentiments. With all persons, mcludmg ANALYSIS OF CONSCIENCE 99 that they originated somewhat similarly in the race The primitive man, let us say, instinctively resented attacks upon himself, and those near to him, and feared the painful consequences which injury done to others was bound to bring upon him and those for whom he cared. In the course of time, with the development of society, the fear of personal revenge gave way to the fear of the ruler and the State, the fear of the wrath of invisible powers, the fear of losing social recognition, the fear of causing ideal pain to others Then, perhaps, the feeling of sympathy, which at first included only a few in its scope, was extended, taking in larger numbers, and became a motive. Finally, feelings of respect and reverence for the law as law, the feeling of obligation, arose as in the case of the individual. If it is true that the develop- ment of the individual, or ontogenesis, is a repetition those not thus well bred, the social and even the physical environ- men tends to establish a similar connection. But this connection natu .' f" ^l^^^V,r^^^^^^^' '^^ beginning of a so-called 'moral hatefor t"a '* 1 ^" ''' ^^^ "P^- -^y thus come to have for it a quasi-moral import. On the basis of this experience with Its own states of affective consciousness, considered '^ on nected with deeds of its own will and voluntary courses of conduct pa t"of the'V:' f .^''^ ''''^^'- "-^' ^— ' ^^e greate; part of the conclusions-such as this is right and that is wron-- ' freeTn^ w r t'"'^ '''"^'^ '"'"^ ^^^^^ «^^^^ ^^-» ^^^If. The clotiw : .f ' '''" '' '''' ''^''' '^'^^ ''' ^— ^^ and sensuous clothmg, as It were, results in a formation of a more and more ab tract system of moral principles. Such are statements like the rand ^rr-'^^l^"^ ^« ^-^g^^' -^ ^ying is wrong; hones yi ^ ng etc" ' " ""''' ^"'""^ ^ "^^^' ^^^ --^^y - n m 100 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS of the development of the race, or phylogenesis, then we must imagine that this feeling of obligation is a late arrival in the race-consciousness, and not an original possession in the sense that it existed in the primitive soul. 9. In what Sense Conscience is Innate. — The in- dividual, then, does not know or feel at birth what is right and what is wrong ; nor is the feeling of obligation immediately aroused in him. He pos- sesses, however, many instincts out of which the moral sentiments may be said to evolve. Among these instincts, which must be regarded as innate, may be mentioned: the feeling of resentment, the fear of others' resentment, the regard for others' opinions, the impulse of imitation, the sympathetic regard for others' welfare, the tendency to submit to'' superior powers, or to obey commands. These instinctive factors of consciousness form the basis of the higher moral feelings ; out of them the latter will grow under the proper conditions. If the fact that the higher moral feelings are bound to be de- veloped in consciousness under suitable conditions means that they are innate, then we must subscribe to the doctrines of intuitionism. In this sense, how- ever, all our feelings, hope, fear, anger, etc., — in- deed, everything in consciousness, our capacity for language, our capacity for hearing and seeing, — are original ov innate. But this does not yet prove that the" moral sentiments are originally connected with the ideas of certain forms of conduct. All that we ANALVSIS OF CONSCIENCE 101 can assert so far is that such feelings may be aroused m consciousness, and may be attached to the ideas of certain acts. Moreover, if the evolutionistic theory is correct in Its doctrine of inheritance, we may suppose that the capacity for feeling approval and obligation is trans- mitted by Its possessors to succeeding generations. Some men seem to be more timid, or cowar.lly, or cruel, or sympathetic by nature than others, which means that these impulses are more readily produced in them than in others. To say, then, that a man has inherited a great respect or reverence for the law wou d signify that, if he were properly trained, he' wou d develop these feelings. In this sense we may speak of conscience as an instinct, as some writers do And, furthermore, if it is possible for us to inherit a tendency to feel and to think and to act in a cer- tain way, why should it not be possible for us to feel obligation and approval in connection with certain Ideas? We inherit not only fear in the abstract, or the capacity for fear, but the fear of particular things, say of dark places, vermin, etc.i If certain hxed neural relations are formed between the brain processes which stand for particular percepts, and those which stand for particular feelings (of fear etc.), and are transmitted from generation to gen^ oloaix-ni p., 1 , ' P' • '^'ehen, Introduction to Phusi- ojo^.1 Psyckoloyy, pp. 244 ff. ; Schneider, I,er mensckUche mUe, --.'•^?^*f«^?*!^3»#^'.-= i'i 102 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS eration, there is no great reason why such connec- tions should not be formed between the paths which represent certain acts, like murder, for example, and those which are the physiological counterparts of the ought-feelings, whatever they may be, and be handed down to offspring. This would not mean that the child is born with these two psychical states together, but it would mean that, under the proper conditions and at the proper time, the con- nection would be formed more easily than if it had not already existed in a long line of ancestors.^ 1 See Darwin, Bescent of Man, pp. 123 f. After quoting that part of Spencer's letter to Mill in which Spencer expresses his be- lief in the transmission of moral intuitions, Darwin says : " There is not the least inherent improbability, as it seems to me, in vir- tuous tendencies being more or less strongly inherited ; for not to mention the various dispositions and habits transmitted by many of our domestic animals to their offspring, I have heard of authentic cases in which a desire to steal and a tendency to lie appeared to run in families of the upper ranks ; and as stealing is a rare crime in the wealthy classes, we can hardly account by acci- dental coincidence for the tendency occurring in two or three members of the same family. If bad tendencies are transmitted, it is probable that good ones are likewise transmitted. That the Btate of the body, by affecting the brain, has great influence on the moral tendencies is known to most of those who have suffered from chronic derangements of the digestion or liver. The same fact is likewise shown by the ' perversion or destruction of the moral sense being often one of the earliest symptoms of mental derangement' (Maudsley, Body and Mind, 1870, p. 60), and insanity is notoriously often inherited. Except through the prin- ciple of the transmission of moral tendencies, we cannot under- stand the differences believed to exist in tliis respect between the various races of mankind. Even the partial transmission of virtuous tendencies would be an immense assistance to the primary impulse derived directly and indirectly from the social mstmcts. AN^LVSIS OF CONSCIENCE 103 Nor would this mean that the connection has exited forever and will continue to exist forever hat xt IS inseparable and eternal, or that the same' combinations exist in all human beings Whether such tendencies to feel bolnd in the pres- ence of certain acts are really inherited, we cannot tell positively, but there i\ nnfl • • 7 fi. ^1 1 ^ nothing improbable in the thought. The fact that ti„,e and training a e equ,red to bring out the .noral feelings wouTd be no argument agai:^t the belief. There are nlnv n.t.ncts i^ .nan which do not ripen at once anT without the proper excitants, and yet we do not deny to them their instinctive and innate chara ter Let us sum up : The moral feelings, a. we find toiy of the individual and the race. They are not he original and inseparable companions of ^Tpa t^ular acts, but may become attached to all forms of conduct under suitable conditions. There " not ung ^possible in the notion that the tendency to feel them in connection with certain acts may tinuert durin.- several «=T1, ' "''™'-"°"' and example, con- ing such virtues havinT\?l ^ 1 ! ' ^^ "'^ ""iividuals possess- See also Darw ^ andsw ''^''•^'' '" *« "™gs'« ^or life." «5 ft., 449 ff. : Sutherland V' , / *'"'' ^"''"'^ PP- ^^^ «•• ". , Sutherland, Moral Instinct, Vol. II, pp. 60 ff. -inm"ixm«HmmmerjM.'m»sm^aiFi» I; 104 INTRODUCTIOM TO ETHICS become fixed and habitual, aud be transmitted to offspring. ,., ,, c 4. But, the question may be asked, how did the first iman who ever felt obligation, etc., come to feel that Lay' What is the first origin of the feeling. Even if we should maintain that it is a form of vague fear, we should still have to inquire. Whence did it sprin- ■> It is as hard to solve this problem as it is to solve the problem of first beginnings in geneml. How did any feeling, or in fact anything, originally avise' We do not know. We do not know how consciousness arose, or, indeed, how it arises every day in new human beings, or how one thought springs from the other. We think and feel and will, and think and feel and will about our own thinking, feeling, and willing ; but how all that is possible we are utterly at a loss to understand I can explain to you the antecedent and concomitant processes, both physical and mental, which go with certain ideas and feelings and volitions, but if you ask me how such a state as a conscious process is possible at all, I must remain silent. I know tUt consciousness is ; what it is in the last analysis, and how it came to be, I cannot tell. We have reached the confines of our science at this point. Here the moralist must take leave of you, and hand you over to the tender mercies of the theologian or metaphy- sician Did God create the feeling of obligation^ Well if He created you. He created all of you, and there' is no need of singling out one particular feel- j- ANALYSrS OF CONSCIENCE 105 ing. Is the feeling of obligation the self-imposed law of your own personality ? Yes, in the sense that you are your feeling of obligation, that the feeling is not outside of you, something standing over and against you, but in you and of you. 10. The Infallibility and Immediacy of Conseience. — After the foregoing, it will not be difficult to dis- cover our attitude toward several questions which are frequently asked with respect to the conscience Is conscience infallible ? Kant cnlk an erring con- science >'a.-hi,nera."' Before we can answer this qiiesuon ue must understand its meaning. If all such acts are right as are preceded by the feelincr of obligation, i.e., if tlie criterion of their goodness is the fact that they are dictated by conscience, then of course, whatever conscience tells me is right, is right, and to say that conscience errs, is to contra- dict oneself. " An erring conscience " is, indeed " a chimera," if conscience is the sole criterion of the Tightness and wrongness of acts. But we notice that the popular consciousness often condemns acts which have the approval of an individual conscience, and that history frequently reverses its judgments. It would appear from this that a mistake has been made somewhere, and that there is perhaps a principle by wliich we judge even the dictates of an individual conscience. If it is true, as some hold, that the goodness of acts ulti- mately depends Upon the eifects which they tend to • Abbott's trauslatiou, p. 311. i» 106 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS produce, anoint. If the criterion of morality is the sense of duty, or obligation, then, to be sure, no act can be moral that is not prompted by reverence for the law. But it is begging the entire question to insist upon this thesis. Do we really call only such acts moral as are held by Kant to be 1 See Kant's Metaphysik der Sitten. I 108 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS \ moral? If we do, we must regard as moral the murderer who acts from a sense of duty. No, Kant would object, you cannot call the murderer moral, nor can he call himself moral, because he cannot will that his conduct become universal law. Well, we ask, why not? Why cannot he will that the killing of tyrants become universal, so long as it is prompted by a sense of duty ? Besides, Kant here introduces a new principle or criterion : the fitness of the act to become a universal maxim. First he says that an act is moral when it is prompted by the sense of duty, then he tells me to " act only on that maxim whereby thou canst at the same time will that it should become a universal law." If he ad- heres to the first proposition, the murderer is moral ; if to the second, then the sense of duty is not the criterion ; if to both, we have either a contradiction or two criteria which must be harmonized in some way.^ The main thing, it seems to me, is that a man do the right. Now, if he does it from inclination, because he loves to do it, why should he not be adjudged moral? Spencer believes that the time will come when the sense of duty or moral obliga- tion will pass away. " The observation is not infre- quent," he says, "that persistence in performing a 1 For criticism of the Kantian view, see Paulsen, EtUts, pp. 350 ff.; Janet, TUory of Morals, Bk. Ill, chap, v ; Mackenzie, Manual of Ethics, chap, iv ; Muirhead, Elements of Ethics, ^ ob ; Bradley, Ethical Studies, IV. ANALYSIS OF CONSCIENCE 109 duty ends in making it a pleasure ; and this amounts to the admission that, while at first the motive con- tains an element of coercion, at la^t this element of coercion dies out, and the act is performed without any consciousness of being obliged to perform it."i It is evident, then, that '^ that element in the moral consciousness which is expressed by the word obliga- tion will disappear." However this may be, I see no reason why a man sliould be called non-moral because he loves to do the right. Of course, the feeling of obligation, the feeling that an act ought to be performed, will be a great incentive to the doing of it, and possibly owes its ex- istence to this fact. A man in whom this sentiment is very strong will do the right in the face of the strongest temptations, provided, of course, the feeling is connected with right actions. It is an excellen't reenforcer of morality ; it pushes itself in between the desire to violate the law and the desire to obey it, and helps the latter to gain the victory. Human- ity instinctively recognizes this truth. In times of moral degeneracy, reformers point out the danger of listening to the seductive voice of inclination, and appeal to the s;pns.P .^f jj^^fj. jt is also to be' observed that we love conflict, and admire the man who struggles. There is nothing dramatic in an ^^ ""Bata of Ethics, p. 128. Aristotle, Ethics, Bk. I, chap, x: ''For it may be added that a person is not good if he does not take delight in noble actions, as nobody would call a person just if he did not take delight in just actions," etc. no INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS even, quiet life that is free from storms of passion and temptation. But the sense of duty does not play the role in life which moralists of Kant's pietistic training assign to it. Life is not a con- tinuous conflict between our inclinations, desires, or impulses, and the sense of duty. If it were, it would soon consume itself. Men do not do every- thing from a sense of duty, or because they feel that they mu%t. Men are trained to righteousness, and then act from force of habit. Where the training is complete, character is formed, and acts follow from character. The conflicts which Kant regards as forming the very essence of character are rare in a healthy moral life. A good man does not have to call out the inner police force every time he acts. An appeal to authority is not always, necessary in his case. The "thou shalt" is superseded by tlie "I will," and the rule of law gives way to the rule of love.^ Many men form ideals of conduct, that is, reach certain general principles, which aim to give their life a unity. The ideal is like the flag that leads the hosts to battle. It may be followed for many reasons, from love, or from a sense of obligation, or 1 See Spencer, Inductions, p. 338 ; Munsterberg, ms^rnng der Sittlichkeit, last chapter; Wundt, Ethik, Part III chap lu: u Whereas a moral law which demands that the good be done without inclination, i.e., without motives, asks more than can be accomplished, it is, on the contrary, the genuine mark of the mature character to perform the moral act, without deliberation, from pure inclination." ANALYSIS OF CONSCIENCE 111 from force of liabit. I compare my acts with this ideal and may feel obliged to perform those agreeing with it, or I may do them from love. Often a line of reasoning is required to discover the acts which are necessary to the realization of my ideal. 12. The Historical View and Morality. — In conclu- sion, I should like to consider an objection which is frequently urged against the historical view of con- science by those who regard the moral faculty as of supernatural origin. They. hold that to deny the supernatural character of conscience is to rob it of its sacredness and authority. When we know that and hoiv a thing has originated, we are apt to lose respect for it. The knowledge that conscience is not a descendant of the gods, but an earth-born child, a plebeian, so to speak, deprives it of the respect neces- sary to make it effective, and renders it less aiveivl than before. Hence, these persons hold, the historical view of conscience is dangerous to morality.^ . We reply : (1) Even if all this were so, it would not affect the truth of thfe teaching. Truth is one thing, expediency another. (2) But why should the belief that conscience is a child of nature and not the direct voice of God make us lose respect for morality ? If I believe in God and believe that He is a good God, I shall surely lEven Guyau, an evolutionist, is of the same opinion: "The scientific spirit," he says, '' is the enemy of all instinct ; it tends to destroy the sense of obligation on which instinct is based. Eveiy instinct disappears upon consciousness." 112 INTRODUCTION- TO ETHICS believe that He is in favor of the law, that it is His will that I obey the law. And what is to hinder me from believing that His voice speaks in the experi- ence of the race, that the voice of the people is the voice of God in moral matters, that mankind ulti- mately hit upon the right and transmit their knowl- edge from generation to generation? When the theory of evolution first appeared, it was attacked as dangerous to morality and religion, on the ground that if man grew out of simple beginnings and was not directly created by God, then there would be no need of a God. We are coming to understand, however, that even if the evolutionistic hypothesis should be true, God could still reign. Why could not God, instead of having made man out of clay and having breathed the breath of life into his nostrils, have created simple elements from which a being like man eventually had to evolve? The latter belief is surely as reasonable as the former. And so, too, why can we not believe, if we wish, that God made a universe which was bound to pro- duce a human consciousness and a human con- science ? Why should not God let soul-life grow as He lets plant-life grow, and why should we not admire a conscience that has been produced natu- rally as much as we admire other products of nature ? (3) Even if an insight into the origin of the ought-feeling could lead to the elimination of the feeling, would that mean the overthrow of morality? ANALVSIS OF CONSCIENCE 113 I do not believe it. If the habitual performance of good deeds ends in their being done joyfully, why should not a person learn to do the right because he loves to do it? And if he can do it from love why should the loss of the sense of duty mean the defeat of all righteousness? Moreover, the man who IS intelligent enough to understand the argu- ments which make for the historical view, will at the same time, be intelligent enough to see that morality serves a purpose in the world, that the rules of conduct are not mere arbitrary commands, but that they represent the necessary means of human existence. And if he believes that, why should he despise morality? Nay, would he not be more inclined to uphold the right than before ^ I beheve that the race could not exist without morality, I believe that I could not live and grow in an environment in which the laws of morality are constantly broken, I believe that the universe IS so arranged that immorality cannot thrive in it in the long run, -then why should I become immoral simply because I have discovered that the voice within me which urges me in the direction of the right was not made in a day and tllat it will tell me better things as the world rolls on'^i ^ ^ Sidgwick, Methods of Ethics : - TfiSt^Witari^iirn " altogether that temper of rebellion a^a^is^ ""^" as something purely external and cftmVenti flective mind is always apt to fall whefrl^ rules are not intrinsically reasonable. He muH diate as superstitious that awe of it as an absolute f 114 / INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS (4) There are no a 'priori reasons why a person who understands the genesis of liis moral nature should lose it. Nor do the facts, which after all furnish the most important testimony, prove that such is the case. I do not believe that the advo- cates of the -historical theory, men like the Mills, Darwin, Spencer, Wundt, Hoffding, and Paulsen, are less moral than Kant and Martineau. An in- sight into its genesis no more destroys conscience than an understanding of the psychology of courage makes a man cowardly, or a knowledge of the con- ditions of sight and hearing makes a man blind and deaf. It is not an easy thing to break down the training of a lifetime.^ It would require system- atic efforts to loosen the association between the which intuitional moralists inculcate. (At the same time this sentiment, which Kant, among others, has expressed with peculiar force, is in no way incompatible with Utilitarianism : only it must not attach itself to any subordinate rules of conduct.) Still, he will naturally contemplate it witli reverence and wonder, as a marvellous product of nature, the result of long centuries of growth, showing in many parts the same fine adaptation of means to complex exigencies as the most elaborate structures of physical organisms exhibit : he will handle it with respectful delicacy as a mechanism, constructed of the fluid element of opinions and dispo- sitions, by the indispensable aid of which the actual quantum of human happiness is continually being produced, a mechanism which no 'politicians or philosophers' could create, yet without which the harder and coarser machinery of Positive Law could not be permanently maintained, and the hfe of man would become — as Hobbes forcibly expresses it — * solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.' " 1 See Turg6nev's novels, New; Fathers and Sons; and Dos- toievski's Crime and Punishment. ANALYSIS OF CONSCIENCE 115 ideas of certain modes of conduct and the moral sentiments. Why should the philosopher who un- derstands the utility of these feelings attempt to eradicate them? Nay, will he not rather seek to develop and to strengthen them, to attach them to forms of conduct which his growing intelligence finds to be the best? Our philosophical and theological beliefs have, as Paulsen points out, much less influence on our actions than is commonly supposed. Many men who honestly believe in conscience as the voice of God, and who believe that there is a future life in which the just will be rewarded and the unjust pun- ished, act as though they had neither conscience nor fear of hell. Conduct depends upon character, character depends upon impulses, feelings, and ideas together, not on ideas alone. Train a cluld properly, work moral habits into his very nature, arouse in him a fellow-feeling for all mankind, and you may turn him loose upoji the world without fear. If, however, you tell him tliat he must obey the moral law simply because it is God's will, and for no other reason, then, if he ever loses his faith in God, his morality will be without support, and he will dis- regard the law simply to prove his freedom and enlightenment. ! 1 r CHAPTER IV THE ULTIMATE GROUND OF MORAL DISTINCTIONS! 1. Conscience as the Standard. — Our first ques- tion was, Why do men judge or evaluate as they do in morals? Why do they call acts right and wrong? We answered this question psychologi- cally, that is, we pointed out the psychical states upon which moral judgment depends. We found that certain feelings cluster around certain ideas of acts, and that it is in virtue of these feelings that we pronounce moral judgments. We embraced all these mental conditions of moral judgment under the term conscience^ and declared that men judge as they do because they have a conscience. We also examined the views of the different schools with regard to the innateness of conscience, and came to the conclusion that conscience is neither original in the human soul in the sense in which the intu- itionists take it, nor the product of individual expe- rience, as their opponents hold, but that there is an element of truth in both schools. We agreed with the former in saying that conscience is an intuition, with the latter, that it has an origin and development. But we are not yet satisfied with the results which we have reached. Men judge as they do because 1 See references under chap. v. 116 THE CRITERION OF MORALITY II7 they have a conscience. They call an act right or wrong because conscience tells them so. But, we ask, why does conscience tell them so? Why do the feelings of approval (and disapproval) and the ought-feeling surround the ideas of certain acts ^ Because our parents and teachers, present and past, have made the connection for us? But who made the connection for them? What is the principle which originally governed the process? What is the ultimate reason or ground why certain acts are judged as they are judged? In other words, what IS the ultimate ground of moral distinctions, why is right right, and wrong wrong? What in the last analysis makes it right or wrong? Why is it right to tell the truth, and wrong to lie and steal ^ 2. The Theological View, - Simply because God has willed It, answers one school, which was founded by the mediaeval sclioolmen. Duns Scotus and Will- lam Ocea,n. God has made the connection spoken of before. Stealing and lying are wrong because J^od has arbitrarily decreed them to be so. Had He as He might and could have done, declared them to be riglit, then stealing and lying would be right 'C.od does not require actions because they are good," says the old schoolman Gerson, " but they are good because He requires them ; just as others are evil because He forbids them." 1 We might, if we chose, call this the theological school. 1 See Janet, Theory of Morals, translated by m" Chanman P. 167 ; Lecky, History of European Morals, pp. ^7 t fZZl 118 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 3. The Popular View. — No, says another class of thinkers, an act is right or wrong intrinsically. It is absurd to ask why lying and stealing are wrong. Moral truths are as self-evident as the axioms of geometry. We might as well ask why twice two are four as ask why stealing is wrong. The ethical rules are absolutely true, they are necessary truths ; we cannot possibly withliold our assent from them, and yet we cannot prove them. And as God is bound by the truths of mathematics and cannot make twice two anything but four, so He is bound by the moral law and cannot make stealing right.^ An act is right or wrong because conscience tells me so, and conscience tells me so because it is so. Behind the dicta of conscience we cannot go.^ Let us call this school the popular or common-sense school. 4. The Teleological View. — But the scientitic in- stinct is too strong in man to be silenced by such dogmatic assertions as the foregoing. The philo- sophical thinker demands reasons, and is not to be put off with words. He is apt to begin at the very point where the popular mind abandons the search as useless or impossible. We desire to know why an act is right, what makes it right, and receive the dogmatic reply that it is right in itself, that ^ it is absolutely right, that there is no reason for its being to Descartes, the will of God makes all moral distinctions ; He could make good bad. See his Meditations, "Answer to the Sixth Objection.*' 1 See Thomas Aquinas and his school. « See the rational intuitionists discussed in chap ii, § 3. T//£ CR/TERJOX OF MORALITY 119 fight beyond the fact that conscience dictates it, or that It IS right because God wills it : car tel e»t son Ion plaisirf Now we are willing to ad„,it tliat conscience dictates it, and that what conscience dic- tates IS for the time being right. And we are also willmg to admit that it is the will of God. But we would know why conscience speaks as it does, what has guided It in its deliverances, what is the prin- ciple or criterion or standard underlying its iude- -ents. There must be some ultimate ground ffr the distinctions which it makes. And if God made nght right and wrong wrong, we would know why He did It why He made stealing wrong, what reason He had for doing it, what purpose He had in view when He willed it. Wherever we find an instinct we inves igate and seek to explain it, to discover its aTd r^iV'""'^'- I-k,Whydoweeat and drink and sleep ; and you tell me with a con- temptuous smile. Because we are hungry and thirsty and tired, which, though perfectly true, does not answer my question at all. 1 desire to know the ra^son d Stre of eating and drinking and sleeping, the purposes aimed at and realized by these func- tions, the principles on which tliey rest. 5. Ari/umentsfor Teleology. -Let us see whether we cannot find a reason for our question, What is the ultimate ground of moral distinctions? Whv llv''V"Tl\ *' *'"*'' ''"' "^"^ '^ ^- -d 1 I 120 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS fc (1) Every willed action has some end in view. We desire to realize a purpose. Indeed, all action tends to realize an end or purpose, even instinctive and automatic action. It lies in the very nature of things that acts and motives should produce results. Now if human conduct is willed by man, and if the will always aims at results, it is to be supposed tliat moral conduct aims at results, that it realizes ends or purposes which are desired by man. And we should not go far amiss in saying that these results or effects are the raison d'etre^ the reason for exist- ence, of moral conduct. (2) When we reflect upon the modes of conduct which our age calls right and wrong, we find that those which are called right or good uniformly pro- duce effects different from those which are called wrong or bad, and that the effects of the former are preferred, desired, and approved, while the effects of the latter are disliked and disapproved. Falsehood, calumny, theft, treachery, murder, etc., produce results which we call pernicious and evil ; truthfulness, honesty, loyalty, benevolence, justice, produce consequences of a beneficial nature. The universe is so arranged that certain acts are bound to have certain effects, and human nature is so con- stituted that some effects are desired and others hated. The act of murder carries countless evils in its train : the destruction of the victim and his life's hopes, feelings of grief and desires for revenge in the hearts of the related survivors, general sorrow 1 r D THE CRITERION OF MORALITY 121 and a feeling of insecurity in the entire community. The family of the murdered man may also suffer ma- terial loss by the removal of their supporter, while other circles are indirectly affected by tlieir misfor- tune. The murderer liimself cannot live tlie life of peace and security which he enjoyed before the crime. He has drawn upon himself the wrath of his fellows, not to speak of the legal punishment which may stare him in the face. The mark of Cain IS upon him, the blood of his victim cries for revenge, men fear him and hate him, and he fears and hates them in return. Such and many kindred effects are bound to follow the commission of crime even in the most primitive state of society. And It would be impossible for men to live together in a community in which acts having such effects were habitually practised. A society cannot thrive whose members lie and steal and commit murder and other- wise disregard each other, in which the wicked are not punished and wrongs redressed, in which even thieves and rascals fall out. Now would it not be safe to assume that these eftects, both internal and external, are the significant thing in morals ? (3) We also notice that whenever our conscience leaves us in the lurch, and fails to indicate the proper course to pursue, we frequently attempt to reason about our conduct. What, we ask ourselves, would be the effect of such and such an act upon ourselves and others and society at large ? I may fully approve of a line of action which I have been pursuing and I I 122 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS THE CRITERION OF MORALITY 123 which everybody else commends, until some day it dawns upon me that my behavior is bound to harm myself and others, in which case I alter my judgment. And in urging others to be moral we frequently point out to them the effects which accompany both right- and wrong-doing. We seem to be anxious to justify the law by its effects. Saint Paul says : " If thy brother be grieved with thy meat, now walkest thou not charitably. Destroy not him with thy meat, for whom Christ died." " It is good neither to eat flesh, nor to drink wine, nor anything whereby thy brother stumbleth, or is offended or is made weak." ^ That is, do not do cer- tain things because of the effect of your example. We also often try to influence children, who do not always see into the sO-called self-evidence of the moral law, by showing them the effects of right and wrong. Moreover, we are sometimes advised to do right on the ground that God wills our good, and that this is realized by the moral law. (4) When we study the morality of different races and ages, we observe that certain modes of conduct are insisted on which are especially adapted to the conditions, both inner and outer, of the times. Where men dwell together in families or clans, and care only for those related to them, the chief con- cern seems to be to ward off the attacks of other families and tribes. In such a state blood-revenge is a sacred duty, and disloyalty to the clan a heinous ^ Bomans, xiv, 14-23. crime. In societies of a larger growth surrounded by warlike neighbors, obedience to authority and martial courage are the highest virtues. Such acts are commanded and judged as moral which enable the community to live and to maintain and increase its possessions. Whatever hinders it from realizing this purpose is condemned. Child murder is often looked upon as legitimate where additions to the membership of the tribe are regarded as dangerous to its welfare. Aged adults are killed without com- punction when their presence becomes a burden. Sickly infants and some of the female offspring are put to death or exposed lest they hamper the tribe in the struggle for life. For the ancient Greek as well as the ancient Hebrew, the strength of the State was the all-important thing. The moral code of such peoples embraces forms of conduct which we shudder at, but which will be found, upon investi- gation of all the conditions, to have had their rea- son for existence. Men like Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle, whom we may surely regard as hio-h types of Grecian morality, regarded as right and proper customs which we condemn, but which seemed to them essential to the existence of the State. 1 Plato speaks of the exposure of children with as little concern as we should feel at the kill- iSee Plato's BepuUic; Aristotle's Politics; Mahaffy, Social Life in Greece; Spencer, Inductions of Ethics ; K6e, Entstehung des Gewissens ; WiUmmfi, A Review of Evolutional Ethics; Suth- erland, The Origin and Growth of the Moral Instinct. 124 INTRODUCTION' TO ETHICS ing of a dog. Aristotle justifies slavery on the ground of its necessity, and jestingly declares that slavery will be abolished as soon as the shuttle- cocks in the looms begin to move themselves. j^5) When we investigate the subject-matter of the moral law, we notice certain discrepancies which cannot be explained except on the theory that the effect of the act is the important thing. The law says, Thou shalt not kill either thyself or other human beings. It is wrong to take human life. And yet according to the popular conscience the State has the right to execute criminals, and an individual may kill a fellow in self-defence. Nor is killing in war regarded as reprehensible. It is right for a nation to defend itself when attacked, or to attack another nation that is meditating its destruc- tion. Suicide is generally condemned as wrong, and yet we do not blame Arnold von Winkelried, who gathered to his breast the spear-points of the enemy in order to open a path for his followers. The law says. Thou shalt not lie. But we do not find fault with the physician for deceiving his patients for their own good, nor with the general for deluding the enemy, nor with the officer of the law for not always telling the truth to the murderer whom he wishes to entrap. In all these cases modes of conduct are prohibited which have certain harmful effects. They all repre- sent forms of action which endanger life. And yet these same modes of conduct are allowed in certain THE CRITERION OF MORALITY 125 instances; apparently because the usual results attendant upon them do not appear, or because an insistence upon their performance would have still more serious consequences than the abrogation of the law. From the above, it seems to me, we may safely infer that tlie ultimate ground of moral distinctions hes in the effects which acts tend to produce. Such acts as actually tend or are believed to produce con- sequences desired by mankind come to be regarded as good or right, and are enjoined as duties, while their opposites are condemned and prohibited. The effect or end or purpose which an act tends to real- ize must, in the last analysis, be what gives to it its moral worth. It must be this end or purpose which, in some way or another, has prompted man to eval- uatea^s he does. This it must be which constitutes the ground or principle or standard or criterion of mora] codes. In other words, morality is a means to an end ; its utility or purposiveness is its standard. 6. Teleological Schools. — Let us call this view, which regards the utility or purposiveness or tell ology (from the Greek word, t6'\o9, telos, end, pur- pose) of morality as its ground, the teleological view.i According to it such acts are good or right 1 The Latin word for useful is utilis. We might therefore call the school which regards the utility of conduct as the criterion of Its moral worth, the utiHtarian school. But, as we shall see later on, this term ha^ been appropriated by a particular branch or phase of the school. To avoid confusion, therefore, we shall follow the usage introduced by Paulsen, and employ the term teleological M I I 126 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS THE CRITERION OF MORALITY 127 as tend to produce certain results or effects, or to realize a certain end. Here the question naturally arises, What is the end or purpose which morality realizes or seeks to realize ? Different answers have been given : — (1) Morality conduces to pleasure or happiness ; it is the pleasure-giving quality of an act that makes it good. The Greek word for pleasure is i)hQvr) (he done}. Hence we may call this view the pleas- ure-theory, or hedonism.^ It declares that acts are good or bad according as they tend to produce pleasure or pain. But, we ask, Pleasure for whom? My pleasure or your pleasure ? (a) Mine, say some. Acts are good or bad because they tend to make me happy or unhappy. This is egoistic (from Greek iyco, Latin g^o = l), or individualistic hedonism. (b) No, say others, acts are good or bad according as they tend to give pleasure or pain to others. This is heteristlc (eVe/Jo?, heteros, other) or altruistic (Latin alter, other), or universalistic hedonism.'^ (2) According to other teleologists, the principle 1 The Greek word for happiness is evSaifxovia (eudcBmonia). Hence the theory is often called endcemonism. 2 Called by John Stuart Mill utilitarianism. Mill's utilitarian- ism is universalistic hedonism. He applies the general, or generic, term to a particular species, and identifies utilitarianism with a particular phase of it. It is for this reason, as we stated before, that we prefer to use the term teleology. The term utilitarianism, owing to Mill's use of it, means, in most persons' minds, univer- salistic hedonism, which, of course, is not the only possible teleo- logical school. of morality is not pleasure or happiness, but the preservation of life, "virtuous activity,'' welfare, development, progress, perfection, realization. We might call the adherents of this school anti-hedonists, or according to their more positive tenets, vitalists (vita, life), perfectionists, realizationists, or energists.'^ The energists or perfectionists hold that acts are good which tend to preserve and develop human life. We may have here, as above : (a) egoistic or indi- vidualistic energism; and (h) altruistic or univer- salistic energism. According to the former, the end of morality is the preservation and development of individual life ; according to the latter, of the life of the species. 7. Summary.— T\iQ following table attempts to summarize the views mentioned in this chapter 2 : 1 A term employed by Paulsen, derived from the Greek ivipy^ia (energeia), energy, work, action. The advocates of this view are also called eudtemonists by some. The word ewloimonia means happiness, but for Aristotle and others happiness is identical with virtuous activity. The different senses in which this word eudoe- monia is used by different writers often causes confusion. 2 These views are by no means, as is usually supposed, neces- sarily antagonistic to each other. The statements. An act is right or wrong because conscience tells me so, and An act is right or wrong because of the effects it tends to produce, do not necessarily exclude each other. They can both be true. Similarly, the statements. An act is right or wrong because God wills it to be so, and An act is right or wrong because conscience tells me so, and An act is right or wrong because its effects make it so, can be easily harmonized. See chap, v, §§ 1, 11, 12. 128 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS What makes an Act Right or Wrong ? The Theological School The will of God I The Common-sense School Conscience The will of God, and the inherent goodness or badness of the act Pleasure (Hedonism) Whose pleasure ? Of self Of others (Egoistic (Altruistic hedonism) hedonism) Of self and others The Teleological School The effect of the act What is the effect ? 1 Perfection (Energism) Whose perfection ? Of self Of others (Egoistic (Altruistic energism) energism) I , I \ Of self and others Theologico-Teleological School : An act is good or bad because God wills it, and God wills it because of its effects. CHAPTER V THE TELEOLOGICAL VIEW ^ Before attempting to discuss the problems sug- gested in the last chapter, let us examine a little more carefully our fundamental thesis that the moral worth of acts ultimately depends upon the effects which they naturally tend to produce, and consider some objections which may be urged against it. 1. Conscience and Teleology. — When we say that the end which morality subserves is its ground or reason for being, we do not mean to imply that the agent always has the end or purpose clearly in 1 Advocates of the Teleological View : Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics; Butler, Sermons upon Human Nature; Hutcheson, Inqniii/ into the Original of Our Ideas of Virtue and Beauty ; Hume, Inquiry concerning the Principles of Morals ; Paley, Moral Philosophy; Mill, Utilitarianism, chap, ii ; Spencer, Data of Ethics, chaps, i- iii ; Stephen, Science of Ethics, chaps, iv-v ; Hoffding, Ethik, chap, vii; Jhering, Der Zweck im Becht, Vol. II, pp. 95 ff.; Wundt, Ethics, Part III, chaps, ii-iv ; Paulsen, Ethics, pp. 222 ff. ; Suther- land, The Moral Instinct, especially Vol. II, pp. 32 ff. ; and all the thinkers mentioned in next two chapters. Opponents of the Tele- ological View : Kant, Metaphysik der Sitten, Abbott's translation, pp. 9 ff. ; Lecky, History of European Morals, chap, i ; Bradley, Ethical Studies ; Martineau, Types, Vol. II ; Spencer, Social Stat- ics, first edition. K 129 130 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS view.^ We have already pointed out in our chapter on conscience that he pronounces judgment upon an act immediately or instinctively, so to speak, that he calls the act right or wrong because his con- science tells him so. He may not be conscious of the utility of the act which he approves or feels him- self obliged to perform. Our theory does not at all assert that he performs acts because of their effects. Moral acts are not necessarily prompted by the con- scious desire on part of the doer to produce certain consequences. We eat without being conscious of the utility of eating and without intending to pre- serve our bodies, but because we feel hungry. Still, we may say, and have the right to say, that the tak- ing of nourishment produces beneficial results, and that these constitute the reason or ground for our taking food.^ There is no contradiction whatever between the statement that we call stealing wrong because we feel it to be wrong, or because conscience tells us so, and the statement that stealing is wrong because of its effects. In the former case we give the psychological reason or ground for the wrongness 1 See Stephen, The Science of Ethics, chap, iv, ii, " The Moral Law." See also supra, p. 72, note 3. 2 See Williams, A Review of Evolutional Ethics, pp. 326 ff. See Butler, Human Nature: "It may be added that as persons without any conviction from reason of the desirableness of life, would yet, of course, preserve it merely from the appetite of hunger; so, by acting merely from regard (suppose) to reputation, without any consideration of the good of others, men often con- tribute to public good." THE TELEOLOGICAL VIEW 131 of the act; in the latter we point out the real reason. It is just as easy and just as hard, in the last analy- sis, to explain why we should perform certain acts without being conscious of their utility, why we should feel obliged to pursue certain modes of con- duct, the purpose of which turns out to be useful, without being conscious of their purposiveness, as it is to tell why animals should feel impelled to do the very things which they ought to do in order to preserve life, without knowing anything of the end or pur- pose realized by their impulses. The attempts which have been made to account for this apparently pre- established harmony in the latter case greatly resem- ble those employed to explain the former. According to some, God has implanted certain ideas and feelings in the soul of the bird for the purpose of enabling it to do what it does. It knows what is good for it, because God has given it a faculty of knowing it. Others feimply declare that instincts are innate ca- pacities for acting in a certain useful way. Still others try to explain them as the results of a long line of development, as products of evolution ; but in every case the utility of the instinct is confessed to be the ground of the animal's possessing it. The fact that conscience prescribes acts which are useful, without knowing of their usefulness, is ac- counted for in the same ways, as we have already seen.i According to some, God has given us a 1 See chap. ii. 132 INTRODUCTION- TO ETHICS faculty by means of which we immediately discover useful acts.^ We, however, prefer to say, as we said before, that conscience is a development, and grows with its environment. The race learns by experience that certain acts make happy and peaceful living to- gether impossible, while others tend to create relations of harmony and good will, and gradually evolves a code of morals which, in a measure at least, tends to preservation or happiness, or whatever the end may be. These modes of conduct, which must be strictly enforced, become habitual or customary, and are sur- rounded with the feelings — all the way from fear of retaliation to pure obligation — which we noticed be fore. 2 By the side of these feelings, which are more or less intense and easily hold the attention, the real purpose of the rules is lost sight of. Of course, it is not to be supposed that primitive soci- eties carefully reasoned out the possible effects of certain conduct and then adopted a particular end or purpose by an act of parliament. But we may imagine, I believe, that the primitive man had sense enough to find out when he was hurt, and when he hurt some one else, and that in order to live at all every one had to have some regard for every one else. Humanity did not solve the problem of adapt- 1 Thus, Hutcheson says: "Certain feelings and acts are intui- tively recognized as good ; we have a natural sense of immediate excellence, and this is a supernaturally derived guide. All these feelings and acts agree in one general character, — of tending to happiness." See also Paley, Moral Philosophy. 2 See chap. iii. THE TELEOLOGICAL VIEW 133 ing itself to its surroundings in a day ; indeed, it is far from having mastered the subject even in the enlightened present. The objection, then, that individuals are not always conscious of the ultimate ground of moral distinc- tions ^ does not affect our theory at all. We can without difficulty explain both the immediacy with which moral judgments are uttered, and the igno- rance of the agent with reference to the end or pur- pose upon which the law is based. 2. Categorical and Hypothetical Imperatives. — Closely connected with this objection is the one that the teleological theory cannot explain the abso- luteness of the moral law. The law, it is asserted, commands categorically or unconditionally. Thou shalt. Thou shalt not ; and is apparently utterly regardless of ends or effects or experience. We answer, in the first place, that the so-called categori- cal imperative is the expression in language of the feeling of obligation within us, which speaks per- emptorily, and that when we have explained this feeling we have explained the categorical impera- tive. Secondly, the teleological view will have to regard this imperative in the same light in which it views all imperatives or rules or commands or pre- scriptions. The claim of the teleological school is that acts are good or bad, right or wrong, according to the effects which they tend to produce. ^ Stealing, 1 See first edition of Spencer's Social Statics. 2 See, for example. Mill's Utilitarianism, p. 9. 134 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS lying, murder, cruelty, are wrong because they pro- duce effects quite different from honesty, kindness, benevolence, etc. Moral rules, like all other rules, have a purpose in view; they command a certain act in order that an end may be reached. When the physician prescribes for you he lays down certain rules, the purpose or object of which is the restora- tion of your health. These prescriptions may be reduced to the hypothetical form, as follows : If you would get well, do thus or so. Though the physician's imperatives are peremptory or uncondi- tional or categorical (as Kant would say) in form, though he may give no reason for them, they are virtually hypothetical in meaning. The same may be said of the moral imperatives. They are cate- gorical in form : Thou shalt not steal ; and hypo- thetical in meaning : If thou dost not desire certain consequences. The command. Do not steal, is not groundless or absolute or unconditional, as its form would indicate ; its reason or ground, though not explicitly stated, is implied : because stealing tends to bring about certain effects. 3. Actual Effects and Natural Effects. — Again, the objector declares, the moral worth of an act is not dependent upon its effects ; nay, it is either good or bad utterly regardless of its results.^ Even though, owing to peculiar circumstances, the assassi- nation of a tyrant may, all things considered, pro- duce good effects, and the performance of a kind 1 See Kant and Martineau, chap. ii. THE TELEOLOGICAL VIEW 135 deed do the opposite, still murder is wrong and benevolence right. ^ Very true, we should say. We do not maintain that an act is right or wrong because of the effects which it actually produces in a particular case, but because of the effects which it naturally tends to produce. Arsenic is a fatal poison because it naturally tends to cause death. Sometimes the usual effect fails to appear, but we say that this is exceptional, and still regard arsenic as a fatal poison. Falsehood, cal- umny, theft, treachery, and murder naturally tend to produce evil effects, and are therefore wrong. It lies in the very nature of these modes of conduct to do harm. The universe is so arranged that certain acts are bound to have certain effects, and human nature is so constituted that some effects are desired, others despised. Now whether we assume that God directly gave to man certain laws, the observance of which enables him to reach ends desired by him, or whether we assume that man discovered them himself, the fact remains, that morality realizes a purpose, and that this purpose is the ground for its existence. 1 Cardinal Newman says : ♦/ The Church holds that it were better for sun and moon to drop from the heavens, for the earth to fail, and for all the many millions who are upon it to die of starva- tion in extremest a'gony, so far as temporal affliction goes, than that one soul, I will, not say should be lost, but should commit one single venial sin, should tell one wilful untruth, though it harmed no one, or steal one poor farthing without excuse." — Anglican Difficulties, p. 190. Compare with this Fichte's statement, "I would not break my word even to save humanity.' n 136 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS Besides, it would be very difficult to prove that the slaying of the tyrant had no evil effects, and the benevolent deeds no good ones. Human nature is so constituted that the commission of a crime like murder cannot fail to do harm. The experience of mankind shows that the results of such a deed are baneful, and you can hardly prove that they will be absent in a particular case. Who can say that the murder of Julius Csesar, or of Alexander II of Russia, or even of Caligula, was a blessing ? Who would be willing to live in a society in which even the killing of tyrannical governors became the rule ? 4. A Hypothetical Question Answered. — But, the common-sense moralist insists, even though murder and theft naturally tended to produce effects oppo- site to those which they now produce, they would still be wrong. The teleologist would answer : I cannot imagine such a state of affairs in a world con- stituted like ours. As things go here, these forms of conduct cannot help producing effects which human- ity condemns. Still, for the sake of argument, I will suppose your case. And let me first ask you a question. Would charity and honesty and loyalty and truthfulness still be virtues if they led to the overthrow of the world, if they caused sorrow and suffering, if they destroyed the life and progress and happiness of mankind ? It does not seem plausible, does it ? If murder and theft and falsehood really tended to produce opposite effects, mankind would not have condemned them. If murder were life- THE TELEOLOGICAL VIEW 137 giving instead of death-dealing, it would no longer be murder, that is all. Moreover, were mankind so constituted as to prefer death to life, it would not insist upon acts which make life and happiness possible, ^/(-le^^^^^ 5. Morality and Prosperity. — Yet if your view is correct, our opponents assert, then the most moral man and the most moral nation should live and thrive. But is this always the case ? Nay, is not the reverse true ? ^ We can answer, that, generally speaking, obedience to the laws of morality insures life and happiness, and that " the wages of sin is death." But, just as a man who observes the rules of hygiene may become sick and die, so a moral indi- vidual and a moral nation may perish. Eating tends to preserve life, but yet eating men die. An earth- quake may swallow the most moral community in existence, and still its morality was the condition of its peaceful and happy life. 6. Imperfect Moral Codes. — If utility is the criterion of morality, why do we find so many harm- ful and indifferent acts enjoined in the moral codes of peoples ? Why do men adhere with such tenacity to customs which, so far as we can see, have no raison d'Hre ? We answer : (a) Certain acts were believed to have good effects, and so came to be invested with the authority of the law ; others were believed to have bad effects, and were prohibited. As we said 1 Gallwitz, Problem der Ethik in der Gegenwart. 138 INTRODUCTION' TO ETHICS THE TELEOLOGICAL VIEW 139 before, ignorance and superstition play an important part in the making of moral codes. If human beings were all- wise and unprejudiced, the code might perhaps be perfect ; but as men are fallible, they cannot solve the problems of morality with absolute perfection. The belief in invisible powers led to many superstitious practices which we should call immoral, but which were imagined to be pro- ductive of good to the race. Many tribes offered human sacrifices to their gods, who reflected the moral nature of their chiefs, in order to satisfy the hunger of the deities, to appease their wrath, or to gain their good will.^ After such practices have once become customary, they are clothed with the authority of conscience, and felt to be right. The Hindoo mother who throws her children into the river or is buried alive in the grave of her hus- band obeys the law of her tribe, and believes that somehow some good is going to come of it. (5) Where we have a low grade of intelligence in nations, we are apt to have what we of the pres- ent would call a low grade of morality. And similarly, where we have the feeling of sympathy undeveloped, we find modes of conduct which are abhorrent ^o a person of wider and deeper sympa- thies. Certain cruel practices are due to this fact. When the race grows more intelligent and its sym- 1 See Paulsen, Introduction to Philosophy^ p. 266 ; Spencer, Inductions of Ethics; Williams, Evolutional Ethics; R^e, Entsteh- ung des Gewissens. pathy widens, old forms of conduct are repudiated and new ones adopted. ( 4' f 148 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS I But, yon say, suppose a form of conduct which, as a rule, tends to produce pernicious effects, and is condemned, should, owing to changed conditions or special circumstances, result in good, what then ? Well, we reply, if it is absolutely certain that such conduct tends to realize the end of morality, human- ity will approve of it. It is wrong to take human life or to rob a man of his liberty, and yet the State inflicts the death penalty on criminals, orders its soldiers to shoot down public foes by the hundreds, confines lawbreakers in prisons, and breaks up hun- dreds and thousands of homes. It is right to tell the truth, and yet the general deceives the enemy and even his own army ; and the physician deceives his patients in case he deems it necessary.^ Is hu- manity benefited by these acts, would life and growth be impossible without them, are there no evil conse- quences attaching to them? We evidently believe that capital punishment tends to preserve society; otherwise we should not permit it. Should the race ever lose faith in the eflicacy of this awful process, so shocking to all sympathetic natures, it would not only abolish it, but forever regret the fate of those who have died on the bloody scaffold. (c) Another thing. The theory does not say that the end justifies the means which you or / may be- lieve or think will make for the end. There is a great difference between saying that the end justi- 1 See Xenophon's Memorabilia, Bk. IV, Socrates's Definition of Justice. THE TELEOLOGICAL VIEW 149 fies the means, and, the end justifies the means which you or I believe to be the means. In order to be strictly moral, an act must actually realize the high- est end. Your believing or feeling certain that it does, does not make it so. (c?) It seems, then, you say, that both the race and the individual may be mistaken, that they may approve of laws which do not really promote the welfare of humanity, or whatever the end may be. Exactly, we answer, such is the case. To err is human, in morals as everywhere else. Many forms of conduct have in the course of history been felt as right, which subsequent generations acknowledged to be wrong. And men have died at the stake and on the cross for offering the world a moral code for which future ages blessed their names. The sinner of to-day often becomes the saint of to-morrow. (e) And now let us ask some questions ourselves. The opponents of teleology usually regard conscience as the final arbiter of conduct. A man is asked to act according to the dictates of his conscience. Now suppose it tells him to steal and kill and lie in order to accomplish what he believes to be right. Then are not falsehood and murder and stealing right? And then, does not the good end justify the means? If you say that his conscience may be mistaken, and that he should therefore not obey his conscience, you have given up your position. Besides, how shall he correct his conscience ? By reflecting ? Reflect- ing upon what? Evidently upon some principle or 150 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS THE TELEOLOGICAL VIEW 151 criterion which is to serve as a guide even to his so-called infallible conscience.^ 11. Teleology and Atheism. — The objection is also frequently raised that teleology is a godless doc- trine. This is the usual stand taken by persons who can oppose no tenable arguments against a view, and yet desire in some way to confound it. By designating it as atheistic they hope to cast discredit upon it and its supporters, and to frighten others from subscribing to it. The theory, however, is no more godless than any other theory. There is nothing absurd in the thought that God established morality because of the effects which it tends to realize. It is not absurd to believe that He had a purpose in view in establishing it, and that this pur- pose is the reason for its existence. No one, it seems to me, can accuse men like Thomas Aquinas, Will- iam Paley,2 and Bishop Butler of godlessness; and yet they found it possible to believe in teleology. Let me quote from Butler's Sermons upon Human Nature : " It may be added that as persons without any conviction from reason of the desirableness of life would yet, of course, preserve it merely from the appetite of hunger, so, by acting merely from regard (suppose) to reputation, without any con- sideration of the good of others, men often contrib- ute to public good. In both these instances they are plainly instruments in the hands of another, in 1 See Kant, Abbott's translation, p. 311. a See chap, vi, § 10. the hands of Providence, to carry on ends — the preservation of the individual and good of society — which they themselves have not in their view or intention." 1 12. Teleology and Intuitionism. — In conclusion, I should like to emphasize the fact that there is no necessary contradiction between the theory we have advanced in the foregoing pages, and intuitionism.^ 1 See Mill's Utilitarianism, chap, ii, pp. 31 f. : *' We not uncom- monly hear the doctrine of utility inveighed against as a godless doctrine. If it be necessary to say anything at all against so mere an assumption, we may say that the question depends upon what idea we liave formed of the moral character of the Deity. If it be a true belief that God desires, above all things, the happiness of His creatures, and that this was His purpose in their creation, utility is not only not a godless doctrine, but more profoundly religious than any other. If it be meant that utilitarianism does not recognize the revealed will of God as the supreme law of morals, I answer that an utilitarian who believes in the perfect goodness and wisdom of God necessarily believes that whatever God has thought fit to reveal on the subject of morals must fulfil the requirements of utility in a supreme degree. But others besides utilitarians have been of opinion that the Christian revela- tion was intended, and is fitted, to inform the hearts and minds of mankind with a spirit which should enable them to find for them- selves what is right, and incline them to do it when found, rather than to tell them, except in a very general way, what it is ; and that we need a doctrine of ethics, carefully followed out, to interpret to us the will of God. Whether this opinion is correct or not, it is superfluous here to discuss, since whatever aid religion, either natural or revealed, can afford to ethical investigation, is as open to the utilitarian moralist as to any other. He can use it as the testimony of God to the usefulness or hurtfulness of any given course of action, by as good right as others can use it for the indi- cation of a transcendental law, having no connection with useful- ness or with happiness." 2 See chap, iv, § 7, note. I 152 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS THE TELEOLOGICAL VIEW 153 According to the teleological view, the ultimate ground of moral distinctions is to be sought in the effects which acts naturally tend to produce. That is, morality realizes a purpose, is a means to an end, and owes its existence to its utility. Intuitionism maintains that morality is intuitive, that the moral law is engraven on the heart of man, that it is not imposed upon him from without, but springs from his innermost essence. Now these two views are by no means antithetical, as is so often declared, but may be easily harmonized. In the first place, the end realized by morality is one absolutely desired by human beings. An act is right because it produces a certain effect upon human na- ture, because, in the last analysis, humanity approves of that effect. 1 We cannot ultimately justify it except on the ground of its effect upon man. It is good because man acknowledges it as a good, be- cause he is by nature so constituted as to be com- pelled to acknowledge it as a good. In a certain sense, Kant is right in saying that nothing in this world is good except a good will, and that a good will is good simply by virtue of its volition. The highest good, or the end realized by the moral law, is an absolute good, a good unconditionally desired by the human will, one for which no other ground can be found, one whose goodness inheres in itself. A particular act is good because of the end which it tends to realize, but the end is good in itself, good 1 See chap, v, § 8, § 9 (c). because man wills it. In this sense, there is a cate- gorical imperative in the heart of man, an imperative that is no longer hypothetical, but unconditional.^ In this sense, too, morality is imposed upon man by himself: it is the expression of his own innermost essence. In the second place, we may say, as we have already said, that an act is good or bad because conscience declares it to be so.^ The agent evaluates as he does because the contemplation of the act produces a certain effect upon his consciousness, because it arouses certain emotions in him, because conscience pronounces judgment upon it. This statement by no means contradicts the statement that the effect of the act is the final criterion of its moral worth. The intuitionist must grant that the acts approved by conscience produce good effects or realize the high- est good for man, and that its function is to help man to attain his goal. The theological intuitionist must admit that conscience approves of forms of conduct enjoined by God on account of their con- sequences, that conscience is the representative of God in the human heart, placed there in order to serve the purpose of the Creator with reference to man. In every instance, conscience is supposed to serve a purpose, to accomplish something for man, to produce effects; otherwise, why should it exist? There is really no controversy between the intuition- 1 See chap, v, § 2 ; also chap, ii, § 7 (1). 2 Chap. V, § 1. 154 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS ist and the teleologist on this point. Both may agree that conscience is a means to an end, and that this end, in some way, accounts for its existence. The question concerning the origin of conscience will not necessarily affect this view. The teleol- ogist may believe that conscience is innate, or that it is the product of experience, or that it contains both a 'priori and a posteriori elements, without con- tradicting his general theory, that morality serves a purpose in the world, and that this purpose is its final ground. CHAPTER VI THEORIES OF THE HIGHEST GOOD: HEDONISM i 1. The Standard of Morality and the Highest G-ood. — The conclusion reached in the last chapter was that the effects of acts constitute the ultimate ground of moral distinctions. Acts are, in the last analysis, right or wrong, good or bad, because of the end or purpose which they tend to realize. We have attempted to show what this means and what it does not mean. The question now confronts us. What is this end or purpose at which human conduct aims ? Mankind enjoins certain modes of conduct in its moral codes, and insists upon their performance. The end realized by these must, therefore, represent what the race ultimately desires and approves ; it must in a measure represent the ideal of the race, or a good. The race desires and approves of the forms of conduct embraced in the moral code, for the sake of the end realized by that code, and desires and approves of the end for its own sake. The end must be something which it desires absolutely, other- wise it would be no end, but a means. Our original question. What is the ground of moral distinctions, may therefore be reduced to this: What is the ^ See references under chap. ii. 155 I 156 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS highest end, or the highest good^ the summum honum? What is it that mankind strives for, what does it prize above all else, what is its ideal ? 2. The G-reek Formulation of the Problem. — This is the form in which the ancient Greeks put the problem. They do not analyze moral facts as we do, in order to discover the principles underlying them, but simply inquire into the nature of the highest good. "Every art and every scientific inquiry," says Aristotle, at the beginning of his Nicomachean Ethics, "and similarly every action and purpose, may be said to aim at some good. Hence the good has been defined as that at which things aim. But it is clear that there is a difference in the ends ; for the ends are sometimes activities, and sometimes results beyond the mere activities. Also, where there are certain ends beyond the actions, the results are naturally superior to the activities. As there are certain arts and sciences, it follows that the ends are also various. Thus health is the end of medicine, a vessel of ship-building, and wealth of domestic economy. "^ " What, then, is the good in each of these instances ? It is presumably that for the sake of which all else is done. This in medicine is health ; in strategy, vic- tory ; in domestic architecture, a house ; and so on. But in every action and purpose it is the end, as it is for the sake of the end that people all do everything else. If, then, there is a certain end of all action, 1 Bk. I, chap. i. THEORIES OF THE HIGHEST GOOD 157 it will be this which is the practicable good, and if there are several such ends it will be these. . . . As it appears that there are more ends than one, and some of these, e.g., wealth, flutes, and instruments generally, we desire as means to something else, it is evident that they are not all final ends. But the highest good is clearly something final. Hence, if there is only one final end, this will be the object of which we are in search, and if there are more than one, it will be the most final of them. We speak of that which is sought after for its own sake as more final than that which is sought after as a means to something else; we speak of that which is never desired as a means to something else as more final than the things which are desired both in themselves and as a means to something else ; and we speak of a thing as absolutely final, if it is always desired in itself and never as a means to something else."i Let us see how this question of the highest good was answered in the past. The question usually receives one of two answers: (1) According to one school, pleasure is the highest ^ Bk. I, chap. V, Welldon's translation. Compare with this Mill, UtiUtarianism, chap, i: "Questions of ultimate ends are not amenable to direct proof. Whatever can be proved to be good must be so by being shown to be a means to something admitted to be good without proof. The medical art is proved to be good by its conducing to health ; but how is it possible to prove that health is good? The art of music is good for the reason, among others, that it produces pleasure ; but what proof is it possible to give that pleasure is good ? " See also Hume, Principles of Morals^ Appendix I, v., quoted in note on p. 141. 158 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS good, end, or purpose ; (2) according to another, it is action, or preservation, or perfection, or reason. We shall discuss the different theories in what fol- lows, under the heads of hedonism and energism.i 3. The Cyrenaies. — Aristippus of Cyrene, who lived in the third century before Christ and founded the Cyrenaic school,^ regards pleasure {r)hovri^ as the ultimate aim of life, for all normal beings desire it. " We are from childhood attracted to it without any deliberate choice of our own ; and when we have obtained it, we do not seek anything further, and there is nothing which we avoid so much as its oppo- site, which is pain." 3 By pleasure he means the positive enjoyment of the moment (r^hovrj iv Kivrjaei), not merely repose of spirit, " a sort of undisturbed- ness," or permanent state of happiness. The chief good is a particular pleasure. Only the present is ours, the past is gone, the future uncertain. Therefore, "Carpe diem," "Gather the rosebuds while ye may," "Eat, drink, and be merry, for to-morrow you die." But shall the pleasure be bodily or mental? Well, bodily pleasures are superior to mental ones, 1 See chap, iv, § 6. 2 See Diogenes Laertius, The Lives and Opinions of Eminent Philosophers, Bk. II ; Sextus Empiricus, Adv. ma«/i., Bk. VII, 191- 192; Hitter and Freller, Historia Philosophiw Grcecce, pp. 207 ff.; Mullach, Fragments, Vol. II, 397 ff. ; the histories of ethics, etc., men- tioned under chap. 11, especially Paulsen, Seth, Sidgwick, Hyslop, Lecky, chap 1. For fuller bibliographies on the thinkers mentioned in this chapter, see the histories of philosophy, especially English translation of Weber's History of Philosophy. * Diogenes Laertius, translated in Bohn's Library, p. 89. THEORIES OF THE HIGHEST GOOD 159 and bodily sufferings worse than mental. Still, eveiy pleasant feeling (^Si/Trai^em), whether it be physical or spiritual, is pleasure. Every pleasure as such is a good. But some pleasures are bought with great pain and are to be avoided. A man should exercise his judgment, be prudent in the choice of his pleasures. "The best thing," says Aristippus, "is to possess pleasures without being their slave, not to be devoid of pleasures." Theodorus, a member of the same school, declares that, since you cannot always enjoy, you should try to reach a happy frame of mind ix^pa). Prudence will enable a man to obtain the pleasant and avoid the unpleasant. Pleasure, then, is the end; pru- dence or insight or reflection (^/^oVt^w), the means of getting the most pleasure out of life. Hegesias, called ireiaiedvaTo^ (persuader to die), the pessimist, admits that we all desire happiness, but holds that complete happiness cannot exist. Hence the chief good is to be free from all trouble and pain, and this end is best attained by those who look upon the efficient causes of pleasure as indiffer- ent. Indeed, death is preferable to life, for death takes us out of the reach of pain.i Anniceris, too, considers pleasure as the chief good, and the depri- vation of it as an evil. Still, a man has natural feelings of benevolence, and ought therefore to sub- mit voluntarily to this deprivation out of regard for his friends and his country. 1 See Cicero, Tusc, 34. IGO INTRODUCTION' TO ETHICS 4. Epicurus. — According to Epicurus,^ a later advocate of hedonism, pleasure is the highest good, pain the greatest evil,^ not, however, the positive or active pleasure of the Cyrenaics, pleasure in motion (rjhovrj KLvriTHcrf)^ but quiet pleasure (r^hovrj Karaa-rr}- fiaTLKri}^ repose of spirit {arapa^ia)^ freedom from pain (JnrovCa). The latter pleasures, which Epicu- rus calls pleasures of the soul, are greater than the former, those of the body ; just as the pains of the soul are worse than those of the body. For the flesh is only sensible to present joy and affliction, but the soul feels the past, the present, and the future. Physical pleasure does not last as such ; only the recollection of it endures. Hence, mental pleasure, i.e.^ the remembrance of bodily pleasure, which is free from the pains accompanying physical enjoyment, is higher than physical pleasure. Now how shall we reach the chief good ? Although no pleasure is intrinsically bad, we do not choose every pleasure, for many pleasures are followed by greater pains, and many pains are followed by greater pleasures. We must exercise our judgment, we must have prudence or insight (^povrjai^:') to 1 340-270 B.C. Diogenes Laertius, X ; Cicero, De finibiis^ I ; Lucretius, De rerum natura; Sextus Empiricus, Adv. math., XI; Ritter and Preller, pp. 373 ff. See my translation of Weber, His- tory of Philosophy, p. 134, note 1. 2 " They say that there are two passions, pleasure and pain, which affect everything alive, and that the one is natural, and the other foreign to our nature ; with reference to which all objects of choice and avoidance are judged of." Diogenes Laertius, Eng- lish translation, p. 436 ; see also p. 470. V THEORIES OF THE HIGHEST GOOD 161 guide us in our choice of pleasures and in our avoid- ance of pains. "When therefore we say that pleas- ure is a chief good, we are not speaking of the pleasures of the debauched man, or those who lie in sensual enjoyment, as some think who are igno- rant, and who do not entertain our opinions, or else interpret them perversely ; but we mean the freedom of the body from pain, and of the soul from confu- sion. For it is not continued drinkings and revels, or the enjoyment of female society, or feasts of fish and other such things as a costly table supplies, that make life pleasant, but sober contemplation, which examines the reasons for all choice and avoid- ance, and which puts to flight the vain opinions from which the greater part of the confusion arises which troubles the soul." "The wise man, the man of insight, understands the causes of things, and will, therefore, be free from prejudice, superstition, fear of death, all of which render one unhappy and hinder the attainment of peace of mind." In order to be happy, then, you must be prudent, honest, and just. " It is not possible to live pleas- antly unless one also lives prudently, and honorably, and justly ; and one cannot live prudently, and hon- estly, and justly, without living pleasantly ; for the virtues are connate with living agreeably, and living agreeably is inseparable from the virtues, "i We see how this school develops from a crass hedonism to a somewhat more refined form of it. 1 D. L., pp. 471 f. 162 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS At first it makes active pleasure, pleasure of a posi- tive sort, the goal, then gradually diminishes its intensity until it becomes painlessness, repose of spirit, peace of mind, in Hegesias and Epicurus. Again, at first it is the pleasure of the moment which is sought after, then the pleasure of a life- time is conceived as the highest good. Forethought, or prudence, is also insisted on in the course of time as a necessary means of realizing the goal. 5. Democritus, — All these ideas, however, had been advanced by Democritus,^ of Abdera, the materialistic philosopher, long before the appearance of the Cyre- naics. Though this thinker is the first consistent hedonist among the ancients, and the intellectual father of Epicurus, I have placed him at the end of the exposition of ancient hedonism, because his teachings seem to me to be more matured than those of his followers. According to Democritus, the end of life is pleas- ure or happiness (eyeo-ro), evOvfiia, aOavfiaata^ a6afi- ^ta, arapa^ia, dp/xovLa, ^vfifierpia^ evSatfjiovLa)^ by which he means an inner state of satisfaction, an inner harmony, fearlessness. ^ This feeling does not depend upon external goods, on health or sensuous pleasures.^ In order to attain it man must use his reason. He must be moderate in his desires, because the less he desires, the less apt he is to be disap- 1 Bibliography in Weber, p. 55, note 3. See especially Mtiuz, Vorsokratische Ethik. 2 Fragments, 1, 2, 5, 7. « /6., 15, 16. THEORIES OF THE HIGHEST GOOD 163 pointed. He must also distinguish carefully between the different kinds of enjoyment, and select such as preserve and promote health. He must be temper- ate, for excess defeats itself. Again, sensuous pleas- ures are of short duration and require repetition, which disturbs one's peace of mind.i We should seek to obtain the pleasures produced by reflection and the contemplation of beautiful acts. Indeed, the best way to reach the goal is to exercise the mental powers. All other virtues are valuable in so far as they realize the highest good, pleasure. Justice and benevolence are chief means of doing this. Envy, jealousy, and enmity create discord, which injures everybody. We should be virtuous, for only through virtue can we reach happiness.2 But we should not only do the right from fear of punishment, since enforced virtue is likely to become secret vice. It is not enough to refrain from doing evil; we should not even desire to do it. Only by doing the right from conviction and because you desire it, can you subserve the ends of virtue and be happy.3 Happi- ness, then, is the end ; virtue the means of reaching it. 6. Locke. — Let us now look at a few pronounced modern representatives of this school. We have already seen * that, according to John Locke, every \ ^^<^9ments, 47, 50. 2 75.^ 45^ 20, 21, 26, 36. lb, 117: Mr? 8lA 4>b^ov, dXXd Std rbv S4oy xpe(iv iiriy^aecu * Chap, ii, § 6 (2). 164 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS one constantly pursues happiness, and desires what makes any part of it.^ "Virtue," he says, "as in its obligation it is the will of God, discovered by natural reason, and thus has the force of law, so in the matter of it, it is nothing else but doing of good, either to oneself or others; and the contrary hereunto, vice, is nothing else but doing of harm."^ "Thus, I think — It is man's proper business to seek happi- ness and avoid misery. Happiness consists in what delights and contents the mind ; misery in what dis- turbs, discomposes, or torments it. I will therefore make it my business to seek satisfaction and delight, and avoid uneasiness and disquiet ; to have as much of the one, and as little of the other, as may be. But here I must have a care I mistake not, for if I prefer a short pleasure to a lasting one, it is plain I cross my own happiness." The most lasting pleasures in life consist in (1) health, (2) reputation, (3) knowl- edge, (4) doing good, (5) the expectation of eternal and incomprehensible happiness in another world.^ 7. Butler, — Bishop Butler, too, has hedonistic ten- dencies, as may be seen from certain significant pas- sasres in his sermons. " Conscience and self-love," 1 Essay, Bk. II, chap, xx, §§ 1 ff.; chap, xxi, §§ 42 ff.; Bk. I, chap, iii, § 3 ; Bk. II, chap, xxviii, §§ 5 ff. 2 See passage in Locke's Common-Place Book, first published by Lord King, The Life of John Locke, pp. 292-293. 8 Lord King, p. 304 ; Fox Bourne's Life of Locke, Vol. I, pp. 163-165. With this view, Leibniz (1640-1716) practically agrees. See his New Essays, translated by Langley, Bk. I, chap, ii, §§ 1, 3 ; Bk. II, chap, xx, § 2 ; chap, xxi, § 42 ; also some notes published in Erdmann's edition of his works (Duncan's translation, p. 130). THEORIES OF THE HIGHEST GOOD 165 he says, "if we understand our true happiness, always lead us the same way. Duty and interest are per- fectly coincident ; for the most part in this world, but entirely and in every instance if we take in the' . future and in the whole ; this being implied in the notion of a good and perfect administration of things."! "It may be allowed without any preju- dice to the cause of virtue and religion, that our ideas of happiness and misery are of all our ideas the nearest and most important to us. . . . Let it be allowed, though virtue or moral rectitude does indeed consist in affection to and pursuit of what IS right and good, as such, yet, that when we sit down in a cool hour, we can neither justify to our- selves this or any other pursuit, till we are convinced that It will be for our happiness, or at least not con- trarytoit."2 8. Hictcheson. — Francis Hutcheson calls an action "materially good when in fact it tends to the interest of the system, so far as we can judge of its tendency, or to the good of some part consistent with that of the system, whatever were the affections of the agent." "An action is formally good when it flowed from good affection in a just proportion." But what is the good ? " That action is best which pro- cures the greatest happiness for the greatest numbers, and worst which in like manner occasions misery. "3 ' Sermon iii, end. a germon xi. burv IL^rrr''' ^^^''' ^"^- "• PP- ^^^ ^- ^^^^«' ''Shaftes- bury and Hutcheson," Phil, Beview, Vol. V, number 1 166 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 9. Hume. — We have already examined David Hume's doctrine of the moral sense. We feel or per- ceive the Tightness or wrongness of an act,^ we feel a peculiar kind of pleasure or pain in the contemplation of characters and actions, in consequence of which we call them right or wrong. Now the question behind this is, Why does any action or sentiment, "upon the general view or survey," give this satisfaction or uneasiness ? ^ In other words, what is the ultimate ground of moral distinctions ? " Qualities," Hume answers, "acquire our approbation because of their tendency to the good of mankind." ^ We find that most of those qualities which we naturally approve of, have actually that tendency, and render a man a proper member of society ; while the qualities which we naturally disapprove of, have a contrary tendency and render any intercourse with the person danger- ous or disagreeable. Moral distinctions arise, in a great measure, from the tendency of the qualities and characters to the interests of society, and it \% our concern for that interest which makes us ap- prove or disapprove of them. Now we have no such extensive concern for society but from sympathy ; and consequently it is that principle which takes us so far out of ourselves as to give us the same pleasure or uneasiness in the characters of others, as if they had a tendency to our own advantage or 1 Treatise on Human Nature, Bk. Ill, Section II. 2 /&,, Bk. Ill, Section III, end. « lb., Bk. Ill, Part III, Section I; Hyslop's Selections, p. 226. THEORIES OF THE HIGHEST GOOD 167 loss.1 We have a feeling for the happiness of man- kind, and a resentment of their misery,2 and every- thing which contributes to the happiness of society recommends itself directly to our approbation and good will. 3 10. Pa%. — According to William Paley, "actions are to be estimated according to their tendency. Whatever is expedient is right. It is the utility of any moral rule which constitutes the obligation of it."* " Virtue is the doing good to mankind, in obedience to the will of God, and for the sake of everlasting happiness." ^ God wills and wishes the happiness of His creatures. The method of coming at the will of God concerning any action, by the light of nature, is to inquire into the tendency of that action to pro' mote or diminish the general happiness.^ Happiness does not consist in the pleasures of sense, for these pleasures continue but a little while at a time, lose their relish by repetition, and are really never en- joyed because we are always eager for higher and more intense delights. Nor does happiness con- iSee Hyslop, p. 227; also Treatise, Conclusion, Section VI- also Inquh^ concerning the Principles of Morals, especially Sec- 2 Inquiry, Appendix I. o„ 'n'^ ^^^ V "' ^'''*^^' ^' ^'" ^^-'^ Appendix I, v, and Treatise on Human Nat^u., Bk. II, Part IK, Section I: -fhe chief sprin. or actuatnig principle of the human mind is pleasure or pain and when these sensations are removed, both from our thought and leeimg, we are, in a great measure, incapable of passion or action of desire or volition." ^ ' * Moral Philosophy, p. 38. 6 j^,., p. 26.^ « Ih., pp. 36 ff. 168 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS sist in an exemption from pain, care, business, sus- pense, etc., nor in greatness or rank. It consists in the exercise of social affections, exercise of our faculties, either of body or mind, in the pursuit of some engaging end, in the prudent constitution of the habits, in health. Pleasures differ in nothing but continuance and intensity. ^ 11. Bentham, — Jeremy Bentham also makes pleas- ure the end of action. " Pleasure is in itself a good, nay the only good ; pain is in itself an evil, the only evil."^ Everything else is good only in so far as it conduces to pleasure. All actions are determined by pleasures and pains, and are to be judged by the same standard. "The con- stantly proper end of action on the part of every individual at the moment of action is his real greatest happiness from that moment to the end of his life." What kind of pleasure shall we choose? Choose those pleasures which last the longest and are the most intense, regardless of their quality. " The quantity of pleasure being equal, push-pin is as good as poetry." In esti- mating the value of a pleasure or a pain, we must also consider, besides the intensity and dura- tion^ its certainty or uncertainty^ its propinquity or remoteness^ its fecundity (" or the chance it has of being followed by sensations of the same kind"), ^ Moral Philosophy, pp. 19 ff. ^ Principles of Morals and Legislation, chap, x, Bowring's edi- tion, p. 102 ; Springs of Action, ii, § 4 ; Deontology, Vol. I, p. 126. THEORIES OF THE HIGHEST GOOD 169 or purity ("or the chance it has of not being followed by sensations of the opposite kind"), and likewise its extent, — \h^t is, the number of persons to whom it extends or who are affected by it.i My own happiness depends upon the happiness of the greatest number, i.e., the conduct most con- ducive to general happiness always coincides with that which conduces to the happiness of the agent.2 Hence it is to the interest of the individual to strive after the general happiness, and it is the business of ethics to point this out to him. " To prove that the immoral action is a miscalculation of self-interest, to show how erroneous an estimate the vicious man makes of pains and pleasures, is the purpose of the intelligent moralist. "3 12. J. S. Mill. — John Stuart Mill* accepts the teaching of Bentham in a somewhat modified form. Actions are right in proportion as they tend to pro- 1 Principles of Morals and Legislation, chap, fv, pp 29 ff Bentham expresses his scheme in the following lines. I presume he supposed that at some future time the school children would be compelled to learn them off by heart : — ''Intense, long, certain, speedy, fruitful, pure ~ Such marks in pleasures and in pains endure. Such pleasures seek, if pjrivate be thy end ; If it be public, wide let them extend. Such pains avoid, whichever be thy view : If pains must come, let them extend to few." I Ih., chap, xvii, p. .31.3. » Deontology. * 1806-1873. Utilitarianism, 1861. See also Analysis of the Phenomena of the Human Mind, by James Mill. 170 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS mote happiness ; wrong, as they tend to produce the reverse of happiness. By happiness is intended pleas- ure and the absence of pain; by unhappiness, pain and the privation of pleasure.^ Some hind% of pleasure, however, are more desirable and more valuable than others. Of two pleasures, if there be one to which all or almost all who have experience of both give a decided preference, irrespective of any moral obliga- tion to prefer it, that is the more desirable pleasure. Now it is an unquestioned fact that those who are acquainted with all pleasures prefer those following the employment of the higher faculties. No intelli- gent human being would consent to be a fool, no instructed person would be an ignoramus, no person of feeling and conscience would be selfish and base, even though they should be persuaded that the fool, the dunce, or the rascal is better satisfied with his lot than they with theirs. " It is better to be a human being dissatisfied than a pig satisfied ; better to be a Socrates dissatisfied than a fool satisfied. And if the fool or the pig is of a different opinion, it is because they only know their own side of the question. The other party to the comparison knows both sides. "2 However, the standard is not the agent's own greatest happiness, but the greatest amount of hap- piness altogether.3 " As between his own happiness and that of others, utilitarianism requires him (the agent) to be as strictly impartial as a disinterested 1 Utilitarianism, chap, ii, pp. 9, 10. ^ Ib.yT^. 14. ^ Ih.^-g. 16. THEORIES OF THE HIGHEST GOOD 171 and benevolent spectator. In the golden rule of Jesus of Nazareth, we read the comj^lete spirit of the ethics of utility. To do as one would be done by, and to love one's neighbor as oneself, constitute thj ideal perfection of utilitarian morality." i It is noble to be capable of resigning entirely one's own portion of happiness, or chances of it ; but, after all, this self-sacrifice must be for some end ; it is not its own end. A sacrifice which does not increase, or tend to increase, the sum total of happiness, is wasted. 2 But why should I desire the "greatest happiness altogether " instead of my own greatest happiness, as the standard ? Mill is somewhat vague and indefi- nite on this point. Each person desires his own happiness. Each person's happiness is a good to that person ; and the general happiness, therefore, a good to the aggregate of all persons.^ The reason- ing here seems to be this: Everybody desires his own happiness. The happiness of everybody (every par- ticular individual) is a good to everybody (to that particular individual). Hence the happiness of everybody (that is, of all, of the whole) is a good to everybody (that is, to every particular individual).* A more satisfactory answer is given to the question in another place. I have a feeling for the happiness of mankind, "a regard for the pains and pleasures of ^' mauarianism, chap, ii, p. 24. ^ lb., pp. 23 ff. » 7J., p. 53. We liave here a beautiful example of the logical fallacy of 172 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS others." " This firm foundation is that of the social feelings of mankind; the desire to be in unity with our fellow-creatures, which is already a powerful principle in human nature, and happily one of those which tend to become stronger, even without express inculcation, from the influences of advancing civili- zation." 1 That is, I desire the happiness of others, because I have social feelings, or sympathy. Both Mill and Bentham, therefore, agree that the greatest good of the greatest number is the goal of action and the standard of morality. But according to Bentham, self-interest is the motive, while accord- ing to Mill, sympathy or social feeling is the main- spring of morality. There is, however, as we have seen, another point of difference between Bentham and Mill. The former regards those pleasures as the best which last the longest and are the most intense, making no qualitative distinction between them. " The quan- tity of pleasure being equals push-pin is as good as poetry." Mill, on the other hand, distinguishes be- tween the quality of pleasures; some are more desir- able and more valuable than others, and the highest pleasures are to be preferred. "According to the Greatest Happiness Principle," he declares, "the ultimate end with reference to and for the sake of which all other things are desirable (whether we are considering our own good or that of other people) is an existence exempt as far as possible from pain, * Utilitarianisin, chap, ii, p. 46. THEORIES OF THE HIGHEST GOOD 173 and as rich as possible in enjoyments, hotl in point of quantity and quality ; the test of quality, and the rule for measuring it against quantity, being the preference felt by those who, in their opportunities of experience, to which must be added their habits of self-consciousness and self-observation, are best fur- nished with the means of comparison. This, being, according to the utilitarian opinion, the end of human action, is necessarily also the standard of morality; which may accordingly be defined, the rules and precepts for human conduct, by the observ- ance of which an existence such as has been described might be, to the greatest extent possible, secured to all mankind; and not to them only, but so far as the nature of things admits, to the whole of sentient creation." i 13. Sidgwick and Contemporaries. — We reach another phase of the theory in Henry Sidgwick.2 According to him, the greatest happiness is the ultimate good.3 By this is meant the greatest pos- sible surplus of pleasure over pain, the pain being conceived as balanced against an equal amount of pleasure, so that the two contrasted amounts anni- hilate each other for purposes of ethical calculation.* There are certain practical principles the truth of which, when they are explicitly stated, is mani- fest.5 One of these is the principle of rational self- ^ Utilitarianisin, chap, ii, p. 17. 2 Born 1838. The Methods of Ethics, 1874. « Methods, pp. 391 ff., 409 £E. * lb., p. 411. « lb., p. 379. 174 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS love or prudence^ according to which one ought to aim at one's own happiness or pleasure, as a whole ; that is, reason dictates "an impartial concern for all parts of our conscious life," an equal regard for the rights of all moments, the future as well as the present, the remote as well as the near. The present pleasure is to be foregone with the view of obtaining greater pleasure or happiness hereafter. " Hereafter is to be regarded neither less nor more than Now." Another such principle, the principle of the duty of benevolence^ teaches that the good of any one in- dividual is of no more importance, from the point of view of the universe, than the good of any other. One is morally bound to regard the good of any other individual as much as one's own, except in so far as we judge it to be less, when impartially viewed, or less certainly knowable or attainable. As a rational being I am bound to aim at good gen- erally, not merely at a particular part of it. When the egoist puts forward, implicitly or explicitly, the proposition that his happiness or pleasure is good, not only for him, but from the point of the universe — as, e.g., by saying that "nature designed him to seek his own happiness," — it then becomes relevant to point out to him that his happiness cannot be a more important part of good taken universally, than the equal happiness of any other person. And thus, start- ing with his own principle, he may be brought to accept universal happiness or pleasure as that which is THEORIES OF THE HIGHEST GOOD 175 absolutely without qualification good or desirable ; as an end, therefore, to which the action of i. reasonable agent as such ought to be directed. i Another principle is the principle of justice; what- ever action any one of us judges to be right for him- self he implicitly judges to be right for all similar persons in similar circumstances. It cannot be right for A to treat B in a manner in which it would be wrong for B to treat A ; merely on the ground that tliey are two different individuals, and without there being any difference between the natures or circum- stances of the two which can be stated as a reasonable ground for difference of treatment.2 Other contemporary exponents of the hedonis- tic school are : Alexander Bain,3 Alfred Barratt,* Shadworth Hodgson,^ Herbert Spencer,^ Georg voii Gizycki,7 and Thomas Fowlef^.^ 1 Methods, p. 418. 2 p^ ^gO. ivJ^L^'\T ^"^^ '^' ^'^''"'''' ^^^^' ^^' Emotions and the Will, 1859 ; Mental and Moral Science, 1868. See chap ii S 6 m ' Physical Ethics, 1869. 5 Theory of Practice, 2 vols.,' 1870 ^Principles of Ethics : Part I, -The Data of Ethics," 1879- i-art II, uThe Inductions of Ethics," 1892 ; Part III, "The Ethics of Individual Life," 1892 ; Part IV, "Justice," 1891. " There is no escape," says Spencer, "from the admission that in calling, good he conduct which subserves life, and bad the conduct which hniders or destroys it, and in so implying that life is a blessing, and not a curse, we are inevitably asserting that conduct is good or bad according as its total effects are pleasurable or painful "_ Data of Ethics, chap, iii, p. 28. ' Grundzuge der 3Ioral, 1883, translated by Stanton Coit; JJfor- alphilosophie, 1889. « Progressive Morality, 1884; Fowler and Wilson, Principles of Morality, 1880-1887. I 1 176 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 14. General Survey. — In conclusion let us briefly survey the history of the theories of hedonism, and note their development. In Greek hedonism the ten- dency was at first to regard bodily pleasure and the pleasure of the moment as the highest good and motive of action (Aristippus). A closer study of the problem led to the gradual modification of this conception. Instead of the pleasure of the moment, the pleasure of a lifetime ; instead of violent pleas- ure, repose of spirit, a happy frame of mind, came to be regarded as the ideal of conduct (Theodorus, Democritus, Epicurus). The element of prudence or reason was also more strongly emphasized in the course of time. It was pointed out that hap- piness could not be secured without prudence or forethought ; that the desire for pleasure had to be governed by reason (Democritus, Epicurus). Then it was shown that mental pleasures were preferable to bodily pleasures, that the ideal could not be realized through sensuous enjoyment, but only by the exercise of the higher intellectual faculties (Democritus, Epicurus). The commonly accepted virtues were also included among the means of happiness, and a moral life insisted on as necessary to the realization of the highest good. Indeed, the controversy between hedonism and the opposing school finally reduced itself to a dispute concerning the fundamental principle underlying morality ; both schools practically recommended the same manner of life, one because it led to THEORIES OF THE HIGHEST GOOD 177 happiness, the other because it tended toward per- fection. ^ Modern hedonists make the standpoint ultimately reached by the Greeks their starting-point. None of them asserts that pleasure is the highest good, without modifying the statement somewhat. The element of prudence or reason is emphasized by all. Even Bentham, who is the most radical rep- resentative of the modern school, makes the pleas- ure of a lifetime the end, and insists that we cannot reach this goal without exercising prudence. They would all agree, also, that the goal cannot be reached by the pursuit of sensuous pleasure, and that the exercise of the mental faculties procures the greatest happiness. An important advance, however, is made by the modern advocates of the theory. Locke, Paley, and Bentham still incline toward egoistic hedonism, which was so prominent in the Greek systems ; the highest good is the happiness of the individual, though this cannot be realized except through the happiness of the race. Hutcheson, Hume, J. S. Mill, and Sidg- wick, on the other hand, recognize the sympathetic impulse in man as a natural endowment ; the highest good is the happiness of the race. But this is a difference of principle only, which does not affect the practice of human beings ; both systems empha- ^ In Anniceris we even get a slight tendency to altruism ; he advises us to forego our pleasure and submit to pain for the sake of friends and country. \ 178 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS size the necessity of doing good to our fellows, the one because our individual happiness depends upon our regard for our neighbor, the other because man is by nature disposed to care for the good of his fellow-men. Another important change is made in modern hedonism by J. S. Mill. According to him pleasure is the highest good and the standard of morality. But the experience of the race teaches that some pleasures, as, for example, the pleasures accompany- ing the exercise of our higher mental faculties, are preferred to others. The race prefers them, how- ever, not because they are the most intense, but because they differ in hind or quality from those accompanying the lower functions. Men evidently prefer these pleasures because they cannot help themselves, they must prefer them, they prefer them absolutely ; it is their nature to prefer them. The standard, therefore, is not pleasure as such, but a certain quality of pleasure, and man prefers this quality absolutely,^ Not pleasure as such, but the higher pleasures, move us to action. Or, rather, since " it is better to be Socrates dissatisfied than a fool satisfied," the highest good is really not pleas- ure so much as the exercise of the higher mental functions. In this form there is no radical differ- ence between hedonism and energism.2 1 This view reminds one of Martineau's theory of conscience. See chap, ii, § 5, p. 45. 2 See Paulsen, Ethics, Bk. II, chap, ii, end of § 6. THEORIES OF THE HIGHEST GOOD 179 Not only do we get in Mill an approximation to energism, but an approximation to intuitionism. According to him both the egoistic and altruistic or sympathetic impulses are innate or original posses- sions of the human soul. Besides, in so far as we make a qualitative distinction between different pleasures, absolutely preferring some to others, we may be said to possess an innate knowledge of the better and the worse, or an innate conscience. In Sidgwick this intuitional phase is more pronounced. Man is endowed with innate principles ; the prin- ciple of self-love, the principle of benevolence, and the principle of justice. CHAPTER VII THEORIES OF THE HIGHEST GOOD : ENERGISM i 1. Socrates. — Let us now turn our attention to a school of thinkers who deny that pleasure or happi- ness is the end of life and the standard of morality, and set up what they at least believe to be a differ- ent goal. Socrates 2 opposed the hedonistic teachings of the Sophists, and declared virtue to be the highest good. But what is virtue ? Virtue is knowledge.^ We cannot be proficient in any line without knowledge of the subject. A man cannot be a successful general without a knowledge of military affairs, nor a states- man unless he has an insight into the nature and purpose of the State. But what is knowledge ? To know means to have correct concepts of things, to know their purposes, aims, or ends, to know what they are good for. ' See references under chap. ii. 2 469-399 B.C. See Xenophon's Memorabilia, translated in Bohn's Library ; Plato's Protagoras, Apology, Crito, Symposium, etc., in Jowett's translation ; Aristotle's Metaphysics, Bk. I, 6. Bibliography in Weber. » Xenophon, Memorabilia, Bk. IV, chap, vi, 11 ; Bk. I, chap, i, 16 ; Bk. II, chap, ix, 6. 180 THEORIES OF THE HIGHEST GOOD 181 Everything has its purpose, is good for something, especally for man.. If that is so, the man who knows what things are good for him, will do these thnigs and he alone will be able to realize his de- sires, his welfare and happiness. Hence knowledge or wisdom (.o^.'^), without which a man can„!t attain to happiness (e5 Knv, f,U^ f^.), is the highest good (^e,..ro. dva^oV). That is to say, virtSe s the knowledge of good and evil, and the'^onsequen doing of good, and the avoidance of evil. Hence no man is voluntarily bad nor involuntarily good V ice IS due to ignorance. ^ Now what is good for man? What is useful to him? Ihe lawful (.o>.^o.), .says Socrates. Man nius obey the laws of the State as well as the un- written lavvs of the gods, i.e., the universal laws of morality To be good or moral is to be in harmony with the laws of one's country and human nature. Virtue conduces to happiness. But should a con- flict arise between virtue and happiness, virtue must never be sacrificed to happiness.* 2. Pfo;o. _Piato,3 the pupil and follower of Soc- rates, teaches that not pleasure, but insight, knowl- edge, the contemplation of beautiful ideas, a life of reason, are the highest good.* We should seek to ^ ^'Tchf ' ^"- 'in'"'''- "' '-" ' ^"^^ '^' ""ap. in, .s ff. 29, 30 • '^- ™' ''= ^'^- '^' <='"'P- '-. "i Plato's L,p.,o,,, TO, rmebus, Gorgtas, Sepublic, translated by JowetL &OTg^as, 474 c H.; PUlebus, 11 6, u b, W 6l3o^, i-mOv^iLa, ^Bovt]). These passions arise as follows : We have impulses which are in themselves good, like the impulse of self-pres- ervation. These impulses may become too violent and give rise to a false judgment on our part. Such a false judgment is a passion. Thus a false judg- ment of present and future goods arouses pleasure and desire ; of present and future ills, pain and fear. All these passions and their different species we must combat, for they are irrational ; they are dis- 1 See Diogenes Laertius, Bk. VII ; Stobaeus, Eclogues, Bk. II ; Cicero, 2>e finibus ; tlie works of Seneca, Epictetus, Marcus Aurelius; Hitter and Treller, pp. 392 ff. 2 Diogenes Laertius, p. 291. THEORIES OF THE HIGHEST GOOD 187 eases of the soul. It is not enough to be moderate ; apathy is the only proper state with reference to them. The wise man is without passion, apathetic; he is not affected by fear, desire, pain, or pleasure. Virtue, therefore, is identical with apathy. The passionless sage is the Stoic ideal. Virtue is the highest and only good, vice the only evil ; everything else is indifferent : death, sickness, poverty, etc., are not evils ; life, health, honor, possessions, are not goods. Even the pleasure produced by virtue (x^P^) is not an end, but merely the natural consequence of virtuous action. ^ The wise man is the virtuous man, because he knows what to do and what to avoid. The Stoic ethics exercised a great influence upon Roman thought and action. As the most illustrious representatives of the school in later times we may mention: Cicero,^ Lucius Annseus Seneca,^ Epicte- tus,* Marcus Aurelius Antoninus, the Emperor.^ 6. The Neo-Platonists. — According to the later Platonists or Neo-Platonists, the universe is an 1 Strict adherents of the school do not even admit that pleasure is a consequence. 2 t 43 B.C. De finibus bonorum et malorum. English trans- lation in Bohn's Library. 3 1 65 A.D. Letters to Lucilius. English translation of Seneca in Bohn's Library. * Born about 60 a.d. His teachings were preserved by Flavius Arrianus in the Encheiridion, or Manual. English translation by Long, 5 Died 180 a.d. twv els eavrbv pifiXla. English translation by Long. 188 INTRODUCTION' TO ETHICS emanation from God, the absolute spirit, who trans- cends everything that can be conceived or said. All the way from intelligence to formless matter the emanations become more and more imperfect. Mat- ter is the very lowest in the stage of being, devoid of form, tlie principle of all imperfection and evil in the world. Yet matter is necessary. Just as light must in the end become darkness at the farthest dis- tance from its origin, so spirit must become matter. But everything that has come from God strives to return to Him again. Man is the mirror of the universe, the microcosm, mind and matter, good and bad. The highest good is the pure intellectual existence of the soul, " in which the soul has no community with the body, and is wholly turned toward reason, and restored to the likeness of God."^ The highest aim of man is to become one with God and the supra-sensuous world, to lose himself in the absolute. To quote from Weber's Hutory of Philosophy : ^ " The artist seeks for the idea in its sensible manifestations ; the lover seeks for it in the human soul ; the philoso- pher, finally, seeks for it in the sphere in which it dwells without alloy, — in the intelligible world and in God. The man who has tasted the delights of meditation and contemplation foregoes both art and love. The traveller who has beheld and admired a 1 Plotinus, the chief representative of the school, seemed to be ashamed of having a body. 3 English translation, pp. 178-179. THEORIES OF THE HIGHEST GOOD 189 royal palace forgets the beauty of the apartments when he perceives the sovereign. For the philoso- pher, beauty in art, nay, living beauty itself, is but a pale reflection of absolute beauty. He despises the body and its pleasures in order to concentrate all his thoughts upon the only thing that endures forever. The joys of the philosopher are unspeakable. These joys make him forget, not only the earth, but his own individuality ; he is lost in the pure intuition of the absolute. His rapture is a union (eWo-t?) of the human soul with the divine intellect, an ecstasy, a flight of the soul to its heavenly home. As long as he lives in the body, the philosopher enjoys this vision of God only for certain short moments, — Plotinus had four such transports, — but what is the exception in this life will be the rule and the normal state of the soul in the life to come. Death, it is true, is not a direct passage to a state of perfection. The soul which is purified in philosophy here below continues to be purified beyond the grave until it is divested of individuality itself, the last vestige of its earthly bondage." In short, the highest happiness consists in being united with the supra-sensible. We must, therefore, withdraw ourselves from the world of sense, free ourselves from the body, become ascetics. We have in this philosophy an exaggerated edition of Platonism. If the highest good is mind or intel- lectuality or the supra-sensuous, then the sooner we get away from the body the better. If the body is 190 INTRODUCTION- TO ETHICS THEORIES OF THE HIGHEST GOOD 191 the prison, the fetter, the chain, the pollution of the soul, the sooner we free ourselves from it the better.^ 7. Hohhes, — Let us now turn to modern times. According to Thomas Hobbes,^ every living being strives to preserve itself. It seeks everything that furthers this end, avoids everything that defeats it. But the end is not always realized. The individual does not realize the end because other individuals- having the same purpose in view come in conflict with him. The impulse of self-preservation thus produces a war of all against all, helium omnium con- tra omnea, and so really defeats itself. Prudence therefore demands the formation of the State, in which the individual subordinates his own will to the general will, thus making life possible. In the State peace and security, the conditions of self-pres- ervation, are realized. The highest end is therefore self-preservation, or life, of which the State is the means. ^ 8. Spinoza. — From this view the ethical system of Spinoza* does not much differ. He too holds , 1 With these ascetic tendencies in Plato and his successors, primitive Christianity had much in common. Christianity was for a long time an ascetic religion. It preached the crucifixion of the flesh. This world was regarded as a vale of tears, as a grave, and heaven as the soul's true home. For the Christian conception of life, see the excellent chap, ii, Bk. I, in Paulsen's Ethics. 2 See chap, ii, § 6 (1). * See Leviathan, especially chaps, vi, xiii, xiv. * 1632-1677. Ethics, translated by White ; also in Bohn's Library. Selections from Ethics, translated by Fullerton. For bibliography, see Weber's History of Philosophy. See also Fuller- ton, On Spinozistic Immortality. that every being strives to preserve its own exist- ence or essence.^ "As reason makes no demands contrary to nature, it demands that every man should love himself, should seek that which is useful to him — I mean, that which is really useful to him, should desire everything whicli really brings man to greater perfection, and should, each for himself, endeavor as far as he can to preserve his own being. This is as necessarily true as that a whole is greater than a part. Again, as virtue is nothing else but action in accordance with the laws of one's own nature,^ and as no one endeavors to preserve his own being, except in accordance with the laws of his own nature, it follows, first, that the foundation of virtue is the endeavor to preserve one's own being, and that happiness consists in man's power of pre- serving his own being ; secondly, that virtue is to be desired for its own sake, and that there is nothing more excellent or more useful to us, for the sake of which we should desire it ; thirdly and lastly, that suicides are weak-minded, and are overcome by exter- nal causes repugnant to their nature. Further, it follows that we can never arrive at doing without all external things for the preservation of our being or ^ Ethics, Part III, prop. vi. 2 lb., Part IV, prop, xx : " The more every man endeavors, and is able to seek what is useful to him — in other w'ords, to pre- serve his own being — the more is he endowed with virtue ; on the contrary, in proportion as a man neglects to seek what is useful to him, that is, to preserve his own being, he is wanting in power.'* ^See also Part IV, prop. xxiv. 192 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS living, so as to have no relations with things which are outside of ourselves. Again, if we consider our mind, we see that our intellect would be more imper- fect, if mind were alone, and could understand noth- ing besides itself. There are, then, many things outside ourselves, which are useful to us, and are, therefore, to be desired. Of such none can be dis- cerned more excellent than those which are in entire agreement with our nature. For if, for example, two individuals of entirely the same nature are united, they form a combination twice as powerful as either of them singly. Therefore, to man there is nothing more useful than man — nothing, I repeat, more ex- cellent for preserving their being can be wished for by men, than that all should so in all points agree, that the minds and bodies of all should form, as it were, one single mind and one single body, and that all should, with one consent, as far as they are able, endeavor to preserve their being, and all with one consent seek what is useful to them all. Hence, men who are governed by reason — that is, who seek what is useful to them in accordance with reason — desire for themselves nothing which they do not also desire for the rest of mankind, and, consequently, are just, faithful, and honorable in their conduct." ^ Now, " in life it is before all things useful to perfect the under- standing, or reason, as far as'we" can, and in this alorie man's highest happiness or blessedness consists7in- deed blessedness is hotlnng'else butthe'cbntehtment 1 Ethics^ Part IV, prop, xviii note. THEORIES OF THE HIGHEST GOOD 193 of the spirit, which arises from the intuitive knowl- edge of God : now, to perfect the understanding is nothing else but to understand God, God's attributes, and the actions which follow from the necessity of His nature." ^ " The mind's highest good is the knowl- edge of God, and the mind's highest virtue is to know God. "2 9. Cumherland, — Both Richard Cumberland and Lord Shaftesbury also place the highest good in wel- fare, not in the welfare of the individual, however, but in the common good^ by which they mean not pleasure, but perfection.^ Cumberland says : " The endeavor, to the utmost of our power, of promoting the common good of the whole system of rational agents, conduces, as far as in us lies, to the good of every part, in which our own happiness, as that of a part, is contained. But contrary action produces contrary effects, and consequently our own misery, as well as that of others."* "The greatest possible benevolence of every rational agent toward all the rest constitutes the happiest state of each and all, so far as depends on their own power, and is necessa- rily required for their happiness ; accordingly com- 1 Ethics, Part IV, Appendix iv. 2/6., Part IV, prop, xxviii. Translations taken from Bohn's Library Edition. 3 Richard Cumberland, 1632-1719, De legibus natures, 1672 ; translated into English by Jean Maxwell, 1727. See E. Albee, ♦'The Ethical System of Richard Cumberland," Philosophical Be- view, 1895. For Shaftesbury, see chap, ii, § 4 (1). * See Albee, " The Ethical System of Richard Cumberland." 194 INTRODUCTIOIV TO ETHICS mon good will be the supreme law." Again, "The happiness of each individual ... is derived from the best state of the whole system, as the nourishment of each member of an animal depends upon the nourishment of the whole mass of blood diffused through the whole." The common good being the end, " such actions as take the shortest way to this effect . . . are naturally called 'right,' because of their natural resemblance to a right line, which is the shortest that can be drawn between any two given points, . . . but the rule itself is called right, as pointing out the shortest way to the end." 10. Shaftesbury. — Shaftesbury^ finds in man two kinds of impulses: "selfish or private affections," and "natural, kind, or social affections." The self- ish affections are directed toward the individual welfare or preservation, " private good " ; the social affections, toward common welfare, the preservation of the system of which the individual forms a part, "public good." Just as the health or perfection of a bodily organism consists in the harmonious coope- ration of all its organs, so the health or perfection of the soul consists in the harmonious cooperation of the selfish and social affections. An individual is good or virtuous when all his inclinations and affec- tions conduce to the welfare of his species or the system of which he is a part. Virtue is the proper balance or harmony between the two impulses. i See chap, ii, § 4 (1). THEORIES OF THE HIGHEST GOOD 196 But how can we tell whether our impulses are properly balanced? By means of the moral sense, as we have already seen,^ the sense of right and wrong, the rational affections. The moral sense is original or innate, like the other affections. Just as the contemplation of works of art arouses feelings of disinterested approbation and disapprobation, so the contemplation of human acts and impulses, whether of others or ourselves, arouses feelings of approval and disapproval. Since man is originally a social being, he derives his greatest happiness from that which makes for the existence of society and the common weal. The necessary concomitant of virtue is happiness, just as pleasure accompanies the right state of the organism. 11. Darwin.^ — The modern evolutionists agree with this conception. I quote a passage from Dar- win's Descent of Man : " In the case of the lower ani- mals it seems much more appropriate to speak of their social instincts as having been developed for the general good rather than for the general happi- ness of the species. The term ge^ieral good may be defined as the rearing of the greatest number of indi- viduals in full vigor and health, with all their facul- ties perfect, under the conditions to which they are subjected. As the social instincts both of man and the lower animals have no doubt been developed by nearly the same steps, it would be found advis- 1 Chap, ii, § 4 (1). 2 See chap, ii, § 7 (2). 196 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS able, if found practicable, to use the same definition in both cases, and to take as the standard of moral- ity the general good or welfare of the community rather than the general happiness. . . . When a man risks his life to save that of a fellow-creature, it seems also more correct to say that he acts for the general good, rather than for the general happiness of mankind. No doubt the welfare and the happi- ness of the individual usually coincide ; and a con- tented, happy tribe will flourish better than one that is discontented and unhappy. We have seen that even at an early period in the history of man, the expressed wishes of the community will have naturally influenced, to a large extent, the conduct of each member ; and as all wish for happiness, ' the greatest happiness principle' will have become a most important secondary guide and object ; the social instinct, however, together with sympathy (which leads to our regarding the approbation and disapprobation of others), having served as the primary impulse and guide. Thus the reproach is removed of laying the foundation of the noblest part of our nature in the base principle of selfishness ; unless, indeed, the satisfaction which every animal feels, when it follows its proper instincts, and the dis- satisfaction felt when prevented, be called selfish."^ 12. Stephen. — Leslie Stephen 2 defines the moral law " as a statement of the conditions or of a part of 1 Descent of Man, chap, iv, Part I, Concluding Remarks. » The Science of Ethics, 1882. THEORIES OF THE HIGHEST GOOD 197 the conditions essential to the vitality of the social tissue."^ Our moral judgments must condemn instincts and modes of conduct which are pernicious to the social vitality, and must approve the opposite ; but it does not necessarily follow that it must dis- approve or approve them because they are per- ceived to be pernicious or beneficial. ^ It is essential to social vitality that actions result from inner feel- ings. Hence the moral law has to be expressed in the form, " Be this," not in the form " Do this." The utilitarian theory, which makes happiness the criterion of morality, coincides approximately with the evolutionistic theory, which makes health of the society the criterion ; for health and happiness approximately coincide. We may infer that the typical or ideal character, at any given stage of development, the organization, which, as we say, represents the true line of advance, corresponds to a maximum of vitality.^ It seems, again, this typical form, as the healthiest, must represent not only the strongest type, — that is, the type most capable of resisting unfavorable influences, — but also the hap- piest type ; for every deviation from it affords a strong presumption, not merely of liability to the destructive processes which are distinctly morbid, but also to a diminished efficiency under normal conditions.* 1 The Science of Ethics, 1882, chap, iv, ii, p. 148. 2 75. 8/6., p. 406. * 26., p. 407. See chap, ix, pp. 359 ff.; also chap, x, pp. 404 ff. 198 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS 13. Jhering. — Rudolph von Jhering ^ advances a similar view. All moral laws and customs have as their end the weal and prosperity of society. All moral norms are social imperatives. All these social imperatives owe their existence to social ends. The ends of society depend upon its conditions. ^ The purpose of morality is the establishment and prosper- ity of society.^ Now, just as a house is not a mere mass of stones, society is not a mere aggregate of individuals, but a whole made up of individual mem- bers, and formed into a unity by a community of ends. The part must adapt itself to the whole if the whole is to stand. Hence the postulate of a social norm which prescribes to the individual such conduct as is necessary to the social order in so far as his own inclinations do not serve society, and the necessity of securing compliance with the norm by means of compulsion. But mere mechanical or legal compulsion is not enough. We have also psy- chological compulsion. The advantage of psycho- logical compulsion lies in the fact that it stops before no relation in life ; it presses in everywhere like the atmosphere, into the interior of the home as well as to the steps of the throne — in places where mechanical compulsion can have no effect. We may say that whatever human conduct is necessary to the existence of society is a constituent of the moral order and falls within the realm of 1 Der Zweck im Eecht, 2 vols, 1874. « Jb.y Vol. II, pp. 96 £E. « 16., Vol. II, pp. 134 ff. THEORIES OF THE HIGHEST GOOD 199 moral law. As now the individual is necessary to society, whatever is required that he may live, even eating and drinking, comes under the view of morals. Even acts which spring from egoistic motives are objectively moral when they further the ends of society. Even our pleasures, recreations, and enjoy- ments have high objective moral significance, for they are the indispensable sources of our strength, and this benefits not merely us, but society. One thought runs through all creation — self- preservation. Man raises himself up to the moral plane when he gains the insight that his individual self-preservation is conditioned by his social self- preservation. The means which nature employs in order to realize the law of self-preservation is pleas- ure. The necessary condition of pleasure is well- being. Well-being is possession of full powers. The striving after well-being is called eudsemonism. Social eudsemonisra is the principle of morals. Wherein the weal and happiness of society consists, the history of mankind alone can evolve. Eudae- monism and utilitarianism are the same thing, from different points of view, the former from that of end, the latter from that of means. ^ 14. Wundt and Contemporaries. — Wundt ^ reaches a similar result. He holds that the proper way to investigate the moral end is to begin with the em- pirical moral judgments. Find the moral end in 1 Der Zweck im Becht, Vol. II, chap, ix, pp. 204 fE. 2 Ethics, translated in 3 vols. 200 INTRODUCTION' TO ETHICS THEORIES OF THE HIGHEST GOOD 201 I particular cases, and by means of them proceed to the general ethical principle. Such an investigation will show that the individual, be it oneself or another, cannot be the ultimate end of morality. Happiness may be an important motive to the will and even an indispensable means for realizing the moral ends, but it cannot be regarded as the moral end itself. The universal spiritual productions of humanity, such as the State, art, science, and univer- sal culture, are the objects of morality attainable by us. But since the very essence of morality is a ceaseless striving, the moral steps attained must not be regarded as a lasting end. The ultimate end of moral striving becomes an ideal never to be attained in reality. Thus the ethical ideal is the ultimate end; the progressive moral perfection of humanity the immediate end, of human morality. ^ To the same school belong H. Hoffding,^ F. Paulsen,^ Th. Ziegler,* A. Dorner,^ J. Seth,^ and others. 15. Kant. — Even Kant,"^ who regards himself as an opponent of all teleology, may, in my opinion, be classed among the energists. According to him, the highest good is not pleasure, neither my own nor that of mankind, but virtue, duty for duty's sake. 1 Ethics, Part III. 2 EtUk, 1887 ; Ethische Principienlehre, 1897. > Stjstem of Ethics, edited and translated by Frank Thilly. * Sittliches Sein und sittliches Werden. * Das menschlU'he Handeln. * A Study of Ethical Principles. '' See chap, ii, § 7 (1). The highest good in the world is a good will, and a good will is good not because of what it performs, but good in itself. That is, it acts from respect of the law, from a pure sense of duty.^ Now rational creatures alone have the faculty of acting according to the conception of laws, i.e., according to principles, i.e., have a will.^ The conception of an objective principle, in so far as it is obligatory for a will, is called a command (of reason), and the formula of the command is called an imperative.^ There is an imperative which commands a certain conduct immediately. It concerns not the matter of the action, or its intended result, but its form and the principle of which it is itself the result.* This is the categorical imperative. In order that this should be valid, it must be a necessary truth. This law follows necessarily from the very nature of the rational will.^ If there is anything of absolute worth, an end in itself, the reason must command it.^ Now rational nature exists as an end in itself. Every man necessarily conceives his own existence as an end in itself, and must therefore regard every other rational creature's existence in the same way. Hence the will must give itself this law. So act as to treat humanity, whether in thine own person or in that of any other, in every case as an end withal, never as a means only. This principle is essentially identical with this other : Act upon a maxim which, 1 Abbott's translation, pp. 12, 16, 65, 164 ff., 180, 241. p. 29. p. 30. 33. * p. 44. ® pp. 46 ft. 202 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS THEORIES OF THE HIGHEST GOOD 203 at the same time, involves its own universal validity for every rational being. ^ For if I am only to act so that my acts can become universal, I cannot will to use any other rational creature as a means with- out willing that he use me as a means. The rational will therefore imposes universal laws, laws that hold for all, laws acceptable to all, which makes possible a kingdom of ends.^ Every rational being must so act as if he were by his maxims in every case a legislating member in the universal kingdom of ends.^ Translated into popular language, this ethical phi- losophy of Kant's seems to me to agree with the systems which we have just been considering. Con- science categorically commands certain forms of conduct, regardless of their effects. When we examine the forms of conduct enjoined by con- science, we find that a common principle is applicable to all ; they are all fit for something, they all con- duce to an end or highest good, — something of ab- solute worth, something absolutely desired by human nature, or as Kant states it, something that reason or the categorical imperative commands. Now what is this end? It seems to be the good of society. "So act that thou canst will the maxim of thy action to become universal law." That is, do not lie and steal, for thou canst not will that lying and stealing become universal. Why not? "For with such a law there would be no promises at all, since 1 Abbott's translation, p. 66. » p. 62. » p. 67. it would be in vain to allege my intention in regard to my future actions to those who would not believe this allegation, or if they over-hastily did so would pay me back in my own coin. Hence my maxim, as soon as it should be made a universal law, would necessarily destroy itself." The implication here seems to be that society would go to pieces if the principles underlying certain acts should become universal. Kant also declares that every man necessarily conceives his own existence as an end in itself. This means that every man has egoistic impulses. And because he is egoistic he must have a due re- gard for others, he must treat them with respect, for otherwise he cannot expect them to treat him with respect. This is what he means when he says, So act as to treat humanity, whether in thine own person or in that of any other, in every case as an end withal, never as a means only. This is a philo- sophical statement of the command. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. The king- dom of ends would be impossible unless every man cared for his own welfare and that of his fellows ; therefore such principles of morality are implanted in his heart as to make a kingdom of ends possible.^ 16. General Survey, — In conclusion, let us note the progress which has been made in the history of the theory discussed in this chapter. The Greek 1 Compare with this Sidgwick's system, as given in chap, vi, §13. m 204 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS energists regarded as the highest good, the exer- cise of reason, or the development of knowledge, and tended to ignore the emotional and impulsive factors of the soul-life. Modern energists gener- ally take a broader view of the highest good, defining it not merely as the exercise of the in- tellectual functions, but as the preservation and development of life as a whole. Happiness as a phase of soul -life receives its appropriate place as a part of the end or highest good, and the the- ory of energism more closely approximates hedo- nism. Pleasure is a means to the end of perfection, an accompaniment of virtuous action, a sign that the goal is being realized. The altruistic element is also gradually introduced into the modern con- ception of energism. The preservation and de- velopment of the race is looked upon as the ideal of life and the standard of morality. Man is no longer conceived as striving merely for his own individual perfection and happiness, but for the good of the whole. Sympathy takes its place by the side of self-love as a natural endowment of the soul.^ In the evolution istic school we also get a closer approxi- mation to intuitionism. Man strives after the preser- vation and perfection of himself and his fellows ; and conscience is largely an inherited instrument in the service of this ideal or goal. It demands what is good for man as a member of society ; it is the expression of the general will in the individual heart. 1 Compare chap, vi, § 14. CHAPTER VIII CRITIQUE OF HEDONISM I 1. Tke Conception of the ffir/hest Good, — Our his- torical review has shown us that there are different answers to the question. What is the end of life and the standard of morality? One school holds that pleasure — all the way from sensuous pleasure to intellectual pleasure, and all the way from the pleasure of the individual to the pleasure or hap- piness of humanity — is the highest good. An- other combats this notion, and sets up as the end, not pleasure, but virtue, knowledge, perfec- tion, self-preservation, or the preservation of society. We pointed out the fact that the Greeks concerned themselves with the question of the highest good, while the modern thinkers formulate the problem in a somewhat different manner, asking. What is the ground of moral distinctions; what makes an 1 For criticism of hedonism, see Plato, Philebus and Republic, Bk. IX; Aristotle, Ethics; Kant, Abbott's translation; Darwin, Descent of Man, chap, iv ; Lecky, European Morals, chap, i ; Sidgwick, Methods, Bk. I, chap, iv ; Bradley, Ethical Studies, III, VII ; Green, Prolegomena to Ethics, Bk. II, chap, ii ; Bk. Ill, chaps, i, iv ; Bk. IV, chaps, iii, iv ; Martineau, Types, Vol. II ; Murray, Handbook of Ethics, Bk. II, Part. I, chap, i ; Simmel, Einleitumj, Vol. I, chap, iv ; Hyslop, Elements, pp. 349-385; Paulsen, Ethics, pp. 250 ff. 205 206 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS act right or wrong ; what is the criterion, or stand- ard, or ideal of conduct, called moral ? Let us now examine the answers which have been given to the question as the ancient Greeks asked it, and try to reach some conclusion with respect to it. And first, let us inquire, What do we mean by the summum hoiium or the highest good ? We may mean by the summum honum: (1) some- thing which humanity prizes as the most valuable thing in the world, something of absolute worth, for the sake of which everything else that is desired is desired. We may say: (a) that humanity con- sciously and deliberately sets up this good as its goal or ideal; or (5) that men are urged to action by this good, that this good is the motive of all action without being clearly and distinctly conceived as an ideal. Or we may mean, not that men consciously or unconsciously strive after a certain end, but (2) that a certain end or result is realized in human conduct. This end or result may be desired by some intelli- gence outside of man, or it may be a purely mechani- cal consequence of the laws of nature. Thus we may find that a certain organ in the body realizes a certain end, that it serves a certain purpose, without desiring that purpose, or, in fact, knowing anything about it. We may attempt to explain this by saying that the purpose was desired by an intelligence outside or inside of the organ, — which would lead us into metaphysics, — or, that it was simply the effect of certain natural conditions. CRITIQUE OF HEDONISM 207 Or the proposition may mean, not that a certain end or ideal is desired by humanity, nor that it is realized by humanity, but (3) that humanity ought to desire it. Let us turn to the hedonistic theory and examine it in the light of the preceding reflections. 2. Pleasure as the Highest Good. — According to the hedonistic theory, pleasure is the highest good or end. Let us take this to mean that all human beings strive after pleasure. By pleasure we may mean posi- tive or active pleasure, or freedom from pain, repose of spirit, peace of mind ; sensuous pleasure, or intel- lectual pleasure ; the pleasure of self, or the pleasure of others; momentary pleasure, or the pleasure of a lifetime. Now if the theory maintains that all men strive after pleasures of sense, that these are the highest good, it cannot be upheld. Men do not desire sensuous pleasures in preference to all others. We may say that they desire both kinds of pleasure, and that if any are preferred, it is the so-called higher pleasures rather than the others. With the progress of civilization, the race comes to care more for intel- lectual and moral pleasures than for the so-called, bodily enjoyments. This truth has been recognized by such hedonists as Democritus, Epicurus, Mill, Sidgwick, and others. Again, if the theory means by pleasure the pleasure of the moment, it can be easily refuted. Indeed, perhaps no hedonist, not even Aristippus, ever recommended that we sacrifice the future to the present. It does not require much 208 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS experience to discover that certain pleasures are fol- lowed by pain, and that a whole life may be wrecked by the pleasure of a moment. "Der Wahn ist kurz, die Reu' ist lang." Rational creatures are able to judge of the future by the past, and will, therefore, be willing to forego a present pleasure and even to accept a present pain for the sake of a more enduring future pleasure. (1) Let us interpret the theory to mean that men universally strive after pleasure, using the term pleasure in the widest and most favorable sense. Now, if we are to understand by this that every human being consciously sets up as the ideal of his conduct, pleasure or happiness, or freedom from pain, and systematically compares all his acts with this standard, selecting such as tend to produce pleasure and rejecting the opposites, the theory cannot stand. It cannot be proved that all men have clear ideals of life, and that they govern their lives in consistent harmony with them. Much less can it be proved that this ideal is pleasure. We cannot imagine the average man as saying to himself. Does this act agree with my ideal of life; will this mode of con- duct be in harmony with my ideal of pleasure ? (2) But perhaps his acts are determined by pleas- ure after all, though he may not know it until he begins to reflect upon his states of consciousness. That is to say, the hedonistic theory may teach. All human acts are prompted by pleasure ; the desire to get pleasure and to avoid pain is the principle CRITIQUE OF HEDONISM 209 governing all conduct ; pleasure is the only motive of action. Stated in this form the problem is a psychological problem, and must be solved by the science of psychology. We shall therefore have to investigate the psychology of action before we can give a satisfactory answer to the question under discussion. 3. The Antecedents of Action. — The first ques- tion which we shall ask ourselves here is this. What are the psychical antecedents of action, i,e,, the states of consciousness leading to an act or movement? What takes place in consciousness before a man acts or moves, in consequence of which he is said to act?^ (1) Sometimes movements occur without being preceded by any conscious states. The movements governing circulation and metabolism are largely reflex or mechanical; they are not under the con- trol of consciousness, and not even accompanied by consciousness. Other reflex movements, like the contraction of the pupil regulating the amount of light received by the retina, likewise belong to this category. 2 (2) In other cases reflex movements are followed or accompanied by conscious states. A strong atmospheric concussion may cause a violent shock in my entire nervous system, producing widespread movements, and arising in consciousness as a loud ^ See the standard works on psychology. 2 See Jodl, Lehrbuch der Psychologies p. 416. 210 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS sound. Here it is not the sensation of sound that produces the movements; nay, what produces the former at the same time produces the latter. (3) Sometimes movements follow conscious states immediately. Certain psychical states are accom- panied or followed by movements in the body over which we have no control, and movements of the body, which we may learn to control. Let us look at some of these. {a) The perception or thought of certain things may be accompanied or followed by intra-organic chancres of all kinds (in the vasomotor, circula- tory, respiratory systems, in the digestive appara- tus, etc.), as well as by more pronounced physical reactions, such as • laughing, weeping, screaming, etc., movements of attack and defence, gestures, exclamations, facial movements, etc. Sometimes, especially in children, the mere sight of a move- ment leads to imitative movements. In all these cases a fixed path seems to have been formed be- tween certain brain parts and certain muscles, which are transmitted from generation to genera- tion. We might call such movements instinctive. (5) Often the mere perception or thought of a movement or object is followed by a movement which has been learned, without the intervention of any other psychical element. A person may, upon seeing a piano, begin to play in an almost mechanical way, or grasp at an object before him without really intending to do so. Or his thought CRITIQUE OF HEDONISM 211 may be followed by incipient movements of the vocal organs, without his having the slightest knowledge of what is taking place. ^ A strong association seems to have been formed, by practice, between certain ideas and certain movements, so that when the former arise in consciousness, the latter immediately follow. Whenever a movement follows immediately upon an idea, the action is called ideo-motor,'^ ((?) Again, we may have the idea of a move- ment plus a feeling of pressure toward it. Here the whole soul seems to thrust itself in the direc- tion of a certain movement. This process is attended with pleasurable feelings, which easily change into pain, when the pressure becomes too great, or when the impulse to perform the move- ment is balked. The physiological condition of the pressure feeling is most likely the energy stored up in the brain cells (which produces the movement) together with the excitations caused in the brain by muscular movements accompanying attention. The sight of a person who has insulted me may arouse in me a strong desire to strike him. I feel that I have to hold myself back, as it were, ' Steinthal calls attention to the contagious effect of the move- ments of the Flagellants, Tarantella dancers, etc., in this connec- tion. Motions become contagious. When thousands cry vive VEmpercur, the Republican and Bourbon cannot resist. We can recall no movements without repeating the respective innervations. This explains actions performed by men who fear them, — hurling oneself from a tower, etc. Steinthal's Ethik, pp. 3^^0 ff. 2 See Carpenter, Mental Physiology ^ and others. 212 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS and the more 1 restrain myself the more I feel impelled to strike the blow. Here almost any move- ment will afford relief. We might call these acts impulsive acts. (d^ At other times a feeling of pleasure or a feel- ing of pain, or an anticipation of pleasure or pain, seems to push itself in between the idea and the act. This means simply that the idea is suffused with pleasure or pain, and that no movement will take place until these feelings are present. I make a movement ; it gives me pleasure and I continue it, or it produces pain, and I stop it or make another. Or I think of a movement to be made, expect it to be pleasurable, and therefore make it. (e) Most frequently many of these states together, i.e., ideas, feelings of pressure, feelings of pleasure, feelings of aversion, feeUngs of pain, precede the discharge of a movement. (4) In all cases mentioned above, the act takes place without the intervention of a so-called decision of the will. Let us now examine states in which this element enters. The question here is, — What are the elements in- volved in willing as such, and what are the antece- dents leading to an act of will, i.e., what makes men will what they will ? What takes place in conscious- ness when I will something, and what has taken place there before I willed it? Let us take a typical case of willing, one which everybody would accept as such. I am considering CRITIQUE OF HEDONISM 213 a certain end or result, be it a specific act, or a whole series of acts, or a train of thought. I have in con- sciousness the idea of an end or purpose or project or something that has not yet been done, but may be done. The end may be a vague one ; I may have nothing but a hazy outline of the result to be achieved, or it may be clearly defined ; I may have worked it out carefully, even to the details. I may be said to will this end or result when I assume a certain attitude toward it, when I decide that it shall be done, when I utter the fiat; or decide that it shall not be done, or utter the veto. In the one case I say yes, in the other no. A peculiar state of conscious- ness surrounds the idea of the result, a state of con- sciousness to which I give expression in language by saying, I will; my mind is made up. We call this state of consciousness or process in which the ego decides for or against the realization of an idea, an act of will.^ Ziehen calls this state which accompanies the idea of an act in willing, "a positive emotional tone." 2 Perhaps we had better speak of it, however, as decision, as an attitude of the ego toward its project.^ Hoffding defines it as follows: *" Volition proper is characterized psychologically by ^ By will I do not mean a substantial entity, a metaphysical essence or force that produces the act (Schopenhauer), but simply the process itself which introspection reveals to us. 2 See Introduction to Physiological Psychology, chap, xiv, pp. 265 £E. 3 James speaks of it as the voluntary fiat, the volitional man- date, the mental consent. 214 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS the ideas of the end of the action and the means to its realization, and by a vivid feeling of the worth of that end." 1 The drama of willing is closed when this peculiar process enters. It makes no difference whether the thing willed is ever realized or not. I may will to pursue a certain line of conduct, and afterwards change my mind about it. I may will to perform an act and never have an opportunity of doing it, or I may will it and find that I have not the power to carry it out. I have willed it when I have decided that I am going to do it, when it has received my sanction. If the act willed is a possible one, it will follow the act of will, the decision, as soon as the ideas of the movements to be made (the kinsesthetic ideas, as they are called by the psychologists) or the ideas initiating these movements (the remote ideas, as James calls them) arise in consciousness. We are utterly in the dark as to liow the process takes place ; we simply know, for example, that when we will to move the arm, it moves, and when we will to move the ear, it does not move.^ The essential element in an act of will is this jiat or veto^ this volitional man- 1 Psychology, pp. 308-356. See Steinthal's Ethik : " Will is the conscious idea whose realization is approved of because its result, the caused alteration in the external world, is also presented and desired." 2 All that we can do is to show how such kinsesthetic ideas are produced, and that when they are present in consciousness they may be accompanied by movements. See the psychologies of Lotze, Bain, Preyer, Baumann, James, which show how we learn to make movements. CRITIQUE OF HEDONISM 215 date, the decision or " cutting short of the process of deliberation," this determination, selective volition, or choice.^ Unless this element is present, we cannot be said to will in the common sense of that term. Movements may be made, however, without the presence of this factor. Not all the acts performed by us are willed in the sense in which we have just spoken of willing ; not every conscious act, in other words, is a willed act. Instincts, impulses, desires, ideo-motor action, etc., are not acts of the will ; they are not necessarily willed, though, of course, they may be. In order to be willed in the real sense of the term, they need the consent or assent we have spoken of. We frequently perform acts impulsively and excuse ourselves by saying that we did not intend them, that we could not help ourselves. ^ 4. The Antecedents of Volition. — We have found thus far that men are prompted to action by their 1 See Ladd's Psychology^ Descriptive and Explanatory^ pp. 613 ff. 2 It has become customary in modern psychology to extend the term will so as to make it synonymous with psychic energy. It is held that attention is involved in every state of consciousness, that no state can come to consciousness or be kept in consciousness without an act of attention. Just as a certain amount of physical energy must be present in the brain before an excitation can be produced there, so a certain amount of psychical energy must be present in consciousness before a state of consciousness can arise. This energy, or force, is called by Schopenhauer will, by Wundt and his followers will, attention, apperception, or conation. According to this view, every mental act is an act of will, and every physical movement that is preceded by consciousness is the same. We have preferred to use the term will in a narrower sense. 216 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS ideas, feelings, instincts, impulses, will, and combina- tions of these factors. We cannot say that feelings of pleasure are the only motives to action. But perhaps feelings of pleasure are the only motiyes to willed action, in the sense in which we have been using this term. Let us therefore investigate the antecedents of willing or volition a little more closely. Let us ask. What causes me to decide for or against a project or end, or, rather, what happens in my consciousness prior to the decision or fiat ? Sometimes the bare idea of an end is sufficient to call forth the decision of the will. When the clock strikes eight I think of meeting my class, and with- out a moment's hesitation I utter the mental yes. Sometimes the decision is prompted by an instinct, an impulse, a wish, or a desire, by a feeling of pleas- ure or pain, or by the expectation of a pleasure or pain. I may will a course of conduct because I love or desire it, or because it promises me pleasure or freedom from pain, or because all these ele- ments unite to gain my consent. Sometimes I feel impelled to act in a certain way which promises me pleasure, but feel a moral obligation to say no. It may require a severe effort on my part to say no, to decide against an act which is so charming ; I seem- ingly have to force myself to consent to a course, which I finally do with a heavy heart. ^ Sometimes 1 This feeling of effort is frequently spoken of as the will, or soul, in action J here we are supposed to feel the soul working, CRITIQUE OF HEDONISM 217 the consent is not obtained until a great many rea- sons for and against a line of conduct have been con- sidered, and until the agent understands the relation of the act to his desires or impulses or hopes or moral aims.^ I may say yes to a line of conduct when I discover by reasoning or otherwise that it agrees with an ideal of mine, an ideal which I have already chosen by an act of will. 5. Conclusions. — Our main conclusions here are : — (1) Not all human conscious action is willed action. (2) Man is prompted to action by his instincts, impulses, desires, feelings, thoughts, perceptions, and volitions, i.e., consciousness in every shape and form tends to be followed by action. (3) Man is determined to will by his instincts, impulses, desires, feelings, thoughts, perceptions, i.e., any state of consciousness may cause the ego to render a decision ; and hence, (4) It cannot be true that pleasure alone deter- ' mines action or volition, 6. The Hedonistic Psychology of Action, — Let us now look at the hedonistic psychology itself, and "the dull, dead heave of the will" (see James, Psychology ^ chapter on " The Will "). But this feeling, whatever it may be, is not the fiat, or veto, itself, though it may be necessary to bring about the fiat, or veto. The view which identifies will with mental activity, and regards all psychic energy as will, will look upon the effort-feeling as a most typical case of willing, or soul-action. 1 See James, Psychology, chapter on "The Will," the reasonable type of willing. 218 mTRODUCTION TO ETHICS CRITIQUE OF HEDONISM 219 subject it to criticism. It asserts that all men are prompted to action either by pleasure or pain. This may mean that all action, both voluntary and non- voluntary (in our sense\ is caused by pleasure and pain ; or, that only willed action is determined in that way, i.e., that pleasure and pain are the sole motives of willing. In either case the sole motive may be : — (1) Some variety of pleasure or pain, present or apprehended ; that is, pleasure or pain, or the idea of pleasure or pain ; (2) Always a feeling of present pleasure or pain; (3) A feeling of pain alone ; or, (4) Unconscious pleasure or pain, or an uncon- scious idea of pleasure or pain. 7. Present or Apprehended Pleasure-Pain as the Motive. — Interpreting the theory in the first sense, it means that actions are performed or not performed because they give us or promise us pleasure or pain. To quote Bain,^ a typical hedonistic psychologist: " A few repetitions of the fortuitous concurrence of pleasure and a certain movement will lead to the forging of an acquired connection under the Law of Retentiveness and Contiguity, so that, at an after time, the pleasure or its idea shall evoke the proper movement." ^ " The remembrance, notion, or antici- pation of a feeling can operate in essentially the same way as the real presence. . . . Without some antecedent of pleasurable or painful feeling, 1 Emotions and Will, 3d edition, pp. 303-504. « 75. ^ chap, i, § 8. — actual or ideal, primary or derivative, — the will cannot be stimulated. . . . There is at bottom of every genuine voluntary impulse some one variety of the many forms wherein pain or pleasure takes possession of the conscious miiid.''^ "Every object that pleases, engages, charms, or fascinates the mind, whether present, prospective or imagined, whether primitive or generated by association, — is a power to urge us to act, an end of pursuit ; everything that gives pain, suffering, or by whatever name we choose to designate the bad side of our experience, is a motive agent in like manner. "2 Xhe same remarks are made to apply to higher acts of willing, accord- ing to the same authority. " In this whole subject of deliberation, therefore, tliere is no exception fur- nished against the general theory of the will, or the doctrine, maintained in the previous pages, that, in volition, the executive is uniformly put in motion by some variety of pleasure or pain, present or appre- hended, cool or excited." 3 ^ Jt is not necessary, however, it is not a condition of our enjoyment, that we should be every moment occupied with the thought of the subjective pleasure or pain connected with our pursuits ; we are set in motion by these, and then we let them drop out of view for a time."* 1 Emotions and Will, chap, iii, § 8, pp. 354 ff. 2 75.^ p_ 357^ 3 lb., chap, vii, p. 416. See also pp. 420 ff. : " A voluntary act (as well as some acts not voluntary) is accompanied with conscious- ness, or feeling ; of which there may be several sorts. The original motive is some pleasure or pain, experienced or conceived." * lb., p. 347. See also Jodl, Lehrbuch der Psychologie, pp. 425, 719 ff., 726. 'll l: 220 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS That is, men think and act in order to procure pleasure and to avoid pain. Thus, for example, I am studying philosophy because of the pleasure I am deriving from it now, or because I expect pleasure hereafter. And I assist my fellow-men in their struggle for existence for the sake of the happiness my conduct procures for me. Pleasure, or the idea of it, in every case stimulates me to act as I do. (1) The psychology of action does not seem to me to bear out this view. Pleasure, or the idea of pleas- ure, is, of course, an antecedent to volition and action, but it is not the only one by any means. I do not necessarily eat for the pleasure it gives me, nor do I get angry for the enjoyment of the thing. I do not necessarily obey the moral law because I get, or expect to get, pleasure, or desire to avoid pain. As was noticed before, psychology presents us with countless instances in which acts follow im- mediately upon the appearance in consciousness of certain ideas. As Professor James says : " So wide- spread and searching is this influence of pleasures and pains upon our movements that a premature philosophy has decided that these are our only spurs to action, and that wherever they seem to be absent, it is only because they are so far on among the ' remoter ' images that prompt the action that they are overlooked. This is a great mistake, however. Important as is the influence of pleasures and pains upon our movements, they are far from being our only stimuli. With the manifestations of instinct CRITIQUE OF HEDONISM 221 and emotional expression, for example, they have absolutely nothing to do. Who smiles for the pleasure of the smiling, or frowns for the pleasure of the frown? Who blushes to escape the discomfort of not blushing? Or who in anger, grief, or fear is actuated to the movements which he makes by the pleasures which they yield? In all these cases the movements are discharged fatally by the vii a tergo which the stimulus exerts upon a nervous system framed to respond in just that way. The objects of our rage, love, or terror, the occasions of our tears and smiles, whether they be present to our senses, or wliether they be merely represented in idea, have this peculiar sort of impulsive power. The impulsive quality of mental states is an attribute behind which we cannot go. Some states of mind have more of it than others, some have it in this direction, and some in that. F'eelings of pleasure and pain have it, and perceptions and imaginations of fact have it, but neither have it exclusively or peculiarly. It is of the essence of all consciousness (or of the neural pro- cess which underlies it) to instigate movement of some sort. That with one creature and object it should be of one sort, with others of another sort, is a problem for evolutionary history to explain. How- ever the actual impulsions may have arisen, they must now be described as they exist ; and those per- sons obey a curiously narrow teleological superstition who think themselves bound to interpret them in every instance as effects of the -secret solicitancy of 222 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS pleasure, and repugnancy of pain. If the thought of pleasure can impel to action, surely other thoughts may. Experience only can decide which thoughts do." ^ Or in the words of Darwin, who, though not a professed psychologist, has observed more carefully than many of them : " All the authors whose works I have consulted, with a few exceptions, write as if there must be a distinct motive for every action, and that this must be associated with some pleasure or displeasure. But man seems often to act impul- sively, that is, from instinct or long habit, without any consciousness of pleasure, in the same manner as does probably a bee or ant, when it blindly fol- lows its instincts. Under circumstances of extreme peril, as during a fire, when a man endeavors to save a fellow-creature without a moment's hesitation, he can hardly feel pleasure ; and still less has he time to reflect on the dissatisfaction which he might sub- sequently experience if he did not make the attempt. Should he afterward reflect upon his own conduct, he would feel that there lies within him an impul- sive power widely different from a search after pleasure or happiness ; and this seems to be the deeply planted social instinct. "^ 1 Psychology, chapter on " The Will," Vol. II, pp. 549 fE. Com- pare with this Guyau, La morale contemporaine, p. 425 : " We think, we feel, and the act follows. There is no need, therefore, of invoking the aid of an exterior pleasure, no need of a middle term or bridge to pass from one to the other of these two things : thought — action. " 2 The Descent of Man, p. 120. See also Sidgwick, Methods of CRITIQUE OF HEDONISM 223 The urgency with which an idea can compel the attention and dominate consciousness is what gives it its motor force. " Let it once so dominate," says Professor James, " let no other ideas succeed in dis- placing it, and whatever motor effects belong to it by nature will inevitably occur — its impulsion, in short, being given to boot, and will manifest itself as a matter of course. This is what w^e have seen in instinct, in emotion, in common ideo-motor action, in hypnotic suggestion, in morbid impulsion, and in voluntas invita, — the impelling idea is simply the one which possesses the attention. It is the same where pleasure and pain are the motor spurs — they drive other thoughts from consciousness at the same time that they instigate their own characteristic 'volitional' effects. . . . In short, one does not see any case in which the steadfast occupancy of conscious- ness does not appear to be the prime condition of impulsive power. It is still more obviously the prime condition of inhibitive power. What checks Ethics, "Pleasure and Desire," pp. 52 f. : "Thus a man of weak self-control, after fasting too long, may easily indulge his appetite for food to an extent which he knows to be unwholesome ; and that not because the pleasure of eating appears to him, even in the moment of indulgence, at all worthy of consideration in com- parison with the injury to his health, but merely because he feels an impulse to eat food, too powerful to be resisted. Thus, again, men have sacrificed all the enjoyments of life, and even life itself, to obtain posthumous fame ; not from any illusory belief that they would be somehow capable of deriving pleasure from it, but from a direct desire of the future admiration of others, and a preference of it to their own pleasure." Hume, Inquiry concerning the Prin- ciples of Morals, Appendix I. 224 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS our impulses is the mere thinking of reason to the contrary — it is their bare presence to the mind which gives the veto, and makes acts, otherwise seductive, impossible to perform. If we could only forget our scruples, what exultant energy we should for a while display." (2) Another point. If pleasure or pain, or the expectation of pleasure or pain, is what prompts all action, how shall we explain the first performance of so-called instinctive acts? Men as well as animals perform many acts instinctively, without knowing beforehand whether the results will be pleasurable or painful. The newly hatched chick sees the grain of corn, and straightway makes the movements nee- essary to pick it up, without any thought of pleas- ure. Similarly the sight of the infant arouses the love of the young mother, and impels her to care for it. And the lover of truth feels a craving to unravel the mysteries of the universe, regardless of whether his longings will bring him pleasure or pain. In cases like these there is present in consciousness a more or less distinct idea and a tendency toward it, a feeling of pressure or impulsion toward it. The explosion of the impulse will be followed by pleasure, though the agent may know nothing of this result until it has happened. The impulse or desire for the act here exists prior to the act itself and the pleasure accompanying or following it. If the hedonistic theory is correct, then all these acts must be prompted by pleasure or the expecta- CRITIQUE OF HEDONISM ^I'lh tion of pleasure, or by pain or the fear of pain. It will not do to say that such acts are at first purely reflex, in the sense that they follow mechanically as the consequence of the stimulation of some nerve centre from within or without, and that the pleas- ure experienced after the first mechanical movement becomes the future motor cue. For if they have occurred originally without the intervention of a pleasurable motive, why should the pleasure be such an indispensable condition thereafter? Nor will it do to say that pleasure, though not now the motive, was the original motive, and that such acts are in- heritances of the past. Such an explanation is a mere begging of the question ; it pushes the problem farther back into the field of the unknown, and then assumes the very thing to be proved. Besides, if acts can be performed at the present time without being prompted by pleasure, why could they not have been performed in a similar way before? (3) Again, if pleasure, or the idea of pleasure, is the sole motive to action, how shall we explain the fact that some pleasures are preferred to others? Why do many men prefer the pleasures of the intel- lect to the pleasures of sense? Shall we say with Bentham that the so-called higher pleasures are more intense than the others? But many psycholo- gists hold that the reverse is true.^ And if the intensity of the pleasure is not what gives it its motive force, what is it? The peculiar quality of 1 See Ladd, Psychology^ p. 195. Q 226 INTRODUCTION- TO ETHICS the pleasure? (Mill.) In that case the theory aban- dons its original position that pleasure is the sole motive to actiou, and substitutes for it the view that a certain kind of pleasure causes us to act, a fact which must be explained. Moreover, how did the race emerge from savagery, how did it come to prefer ideal pleasures? Who told our ancestors of the pleasures resulting from the pursuit of higher aims before they had tasted them? Were they not bound to think first, before they discovered that thinking was pleasurable? (4) It seems that there can be conscious action which is not prompted by pleasure or the anticipa- tion of it. Men think and plan and act, they strug- gle for fame and recognition in this world and in the next they sacrifice themselves for ideals, much m the same manner in which children play and birds sing : because it is their nature to do what they do, because they desire or will to do it, not because it gives them pleasure. Giordano Bruno did not die at the stake for the pleasure of the thing, nor did Socrates drink the poisoned hemlock for the sake of happiness beyond the grave. Aristotle and Coper- nicus, Newton and Darwin, did not give up their lives to the study of nature in order to realize pleasure and avoid pain. They did what they did because they could not help themselves. " It is a calumny to say,'^ so Carlyle declares, " that men are roused to heroic actions by ease, hope of pleasure recompense -sugar-plums of any kind in this world CRITIQUE OF HEDONISM 227 or the next. In the meanest mortal there lies some- thing nobler. The poor swearing soldier hired to be shot has his 'honor of a soldier,' different from drill, regulations, and the shilling a day. It is not to taste sweet things, but to do noble and true things, and vindicate himself under God's heaven as a God-made man, that the poorest son of Adam dimly longs. Show him the way of doing that, the dullest day-drudge kindles into a hero. They wrong man greatly who say he is to be seduced by ease. Difficulty, abnegation, martyrdom, death, are the allurements that act on the heart of man. Kindle the inner genial life of him, you have a flame that burns up all lower considerations." ^ (5) It is true that the realization of our desires and purposes is accompanied or followed by a tem- porary feeling of relief or satisfaction or pleasure. But this does not prove that the feeling, or the expectation of it, was the cause of the result. If I should make up my mind to jump out of the win- dow, I should not be satisfied until I had accom- plished the task. The realization of my desire would bring me relief, but the latter would not necessarily be the cause of the act. The tension in my brain or the energy in the cells would be discharged into my muscles, and a feeling of pleas- ure would ensue. But I could not say that it was the expectation of this result that made me jump. ^ Hero-Worship, p. 237 (ed. 1858). Quoted by Lecky, European MoralSy Vol. I, p. 57. 228 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS My pleasures depend upon my impulses and desires, my desires do not depend upon my pleasures. To assume that pleasure is the cause of an act because it follows the act, is a fallacy of the 'po%t hoc ergo propter hoe kind. As Hoffding says: "Because the end or the object of the impulse is something that excites, or seems to excite, pleasure, it need not necessarily be the feeling of pleasure itself. The impulse is essentially determined by an idea, is a striving after the content of this idea. In hunger, e.g., the impulse has reference to the food, not to the feeling of pleasure in its consumption. "^ " The sympathetic impulses, e.g., the impulse to miti- gate the sorrows or to promote the welfare of others, are guided by the idea of the improved condition of others, depicted more or less in the imagination, as also by that of the pleasure they feel in their improved condition, — but it is not in the least necessary for the idea of the pleasure afforded to us by the sight of their improved condition to make itself felt." 2 8. Present Pleasure - Fain as the Motive.— Sometimes the theory is interpreted in the second sense referred to above.^ That is, all action is prompted by pleasure or pain, not by the idea or expectation of it. It is only because the idea of 1 Psychology, English translation, p. 323. See Bain's answer to this argument, Emotions and the Will, "The Will," chap, viii, 8 7 2 See also Steinthal, Ethik, Part III, pp. 312-382 ; II, pp. 227, 348. 8 §6. CRITIQUE OF HEDONISM 229 a pleasure is accompanied by pleasure, and an idea of pain, by pain, that it has motive force. In the words of Jodl : " Only the newly arising feeling, caused by memory-images (presentation-feeling), not the idea of the feeling, that is, the memory of a feeling, or the conception of a feeling, influences the will."i In answer to this view we may say : (1) Strictly speaking, we never have a state of consciousness which is purely a feeling. The feeling may be the predominant element, but it is not the only one in the process. In addition to feeling we have, accord- ing to modern psychology ,2 intellection and cona- tion, or, to use more popular terms, thinking and willing. Consequently, why should we pick out one of the factors which go to make up a unified, conscious state, and regard it as the all-important motive to action? And, then, why pick out this particular one? The hedonistic psychologist makes the scheme of action and willing far too simple. He imagines that first we have an idea of some object or act, that this idea somehow or other arouses a feeling of pleasure or pain, in consequence of which a movement is made or inhibited. This explanation is as unsatisfactory as it is simple. (2) Moreover, ignoring this objection, to say that ^ Lehrhuch der Psychologic, p. 726. 2 See Ladd, Psychology, Descriptive and Explanatory, chap, iv ; Hoffding, Psychology, chap, iii ; Sully, The Human Mind, Vol. I, chap, iv ; Jodl, Psychologie, chap, iii, 2 ; WiUiams, A Review of Evolutional Ethics, pp. 360 ff. 230 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS pleasure is the only motive to action, assumes (a) that feelings alone can instigate action; (V) that only pleasurable and painful feelings can ; and (c) that all feelings must be either pleasurable or pain- ful. Each one of these statements is open to serious objection. We have already shown in what precedes that feelings are not the sole motives to action or willing. And unless pleasure-pains are the only feelings in consciousness, we can show that other feelings have as much right to be regarded as motive forces as these. We have feelings of obligation, approval and disapproval, feelings of hope and fear, love and hate, anger, envy, trust, etc., all of which can influ- ence action. Are these feelings merely pleasurable or painful tones of different ideas ?i There is pain in disapproval, fear, hate, anger, and envy, no doubt, and pleasure in approval, hope, love, and trust. But is that all there is in these feelings ? Does not each feeling possess its peculiar color-tone, so to speak ? Is not the feeling of fear more than the idea of a future object plus a feeling of pain, and the feeling of anger more than the idea of something that opposes me, plus pain? But, the opponent urges, would you perform cer- tain acts if they procured you no pleasure? Yes, I answer, I should and I do. I perform many acts 1 Spinoza, Hoffding, Kulpe, Jodl, Bain, would answer this question in the affirmative. In opposition see especially Wundt and Ladd. CRITIQUE OF HEDONISM 281 which not only yield me no pleasure, but even give me pain. I catch a student cheating ; it gives me no pleasure. I report him to the authorities ; it gives me no pleasure. I testify against him ; it gives me no pleasure. I see him disgraced ; it gives me no pleasure. So, too, I submit to the pain of a surgical operation. Ah, yes, the hedonist replies, you derive pleasure from the thought of having done your duty, or from the hope of being restored to health. That may be ; but I also get pain. Very true, but the pleasure exceeds the pain, comes the answer. I don't know ; it is not an easy thing to compute pleasures and pains, and it is much harder to com- pare them with each other, and to say that the amount of pleasure which I derive from one act is greater than the amount of pain yielded by another. Besides, even though the pleasure did exceed the pain, that would not prove that the feeling of pleas- ure was the motive. As we have said before, the fact that pleasure follows does not prove that it pre- cedes. But, it is said, the hope of it preexists. Well, we have already found that the idea of pleas- ure is not the sole motive. Another argument in favor of this aspect of the theory appears in this form: Pleasure must be the motive, because if an act gave me pain I should not perform it. Our answer is : (1) I do perform many acts which give me pain. Yes, but you do them for the sake of some future pleasure, I am told. That is begging the question ; that is the very point 232 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS which has to be proved, and has not been proved. (2) Even if it were true that I should not perform an act that gave me pain, this would not of itself prove that the pleasure is the thing I am after. It would be like asserting that I go to the theatre in order to get warm, because I would not go if the house were cold.^ We cannot think without the presence of arterial blood in the brain, but that will not allow us to conclude that arterial blood is the cause of thought, as Empedocles did. I cannot live without eating, but does that make eating the motive of my living ? I will not eat of a certain dish unless it is seasoned properly, but is the seasoning the thing I am after ? Do I eat my food for the pepper and salt it contains ? 9. Pain as the Motive. — AccoTding to another phase of hedonism, neither pleasure nor the idea of pleasure, but a feeling of pain or discomfort, impels us to action.2 We have certain needs or cravings, says Schopenhauer, and we feel pain unless they are satisfied. The will strives to free itself from pain, and therefore acts.^ Now, it is doubtless true that feelings of pain and discomfort often prevail in consciousness, and may be regarded as giving rise to action. My aching tooth may impel me to seek relief at the dentist's. 1 See Simmel, EinUitung in die 3Ioralwissenschaft,Yo\. I, p. 316. 2 See Rolph, Biologische Prohleme ; Sergi, Physiological Psy- chology ; Schopenhauer ; and others. » See chap. x. CRITIQUE OF HEDONISM 233 Or I may be bored to death in a certain town, and seek for a change of scene in consequence. But can we say that the feeling of pain is the sole motive to action ? Do you eat and drink and plan and study and love and hate, simply in order to rid yourself of pain ? I do not think so. Pain is a motive among others — and a very effective motive at times — but it is not the only one. We have impulses and de- sires, and when they are not satisfied they may grow more intense and be felt as pain or discomfort. But they may be realized before this feeling arises. This feeling of discomfort is in many cases nothing but the intensification of the impulse itself, the exalta- tion of the tendency or " urgency from within out- ward."^ Perhaps it stands for the increased tension of the motor cells — the energy increases until it reaches the explosion point ; ^ perhaps it represents the muscular, tendinous, and articular excitations caused in different parts of the body by the over- flow from the brain ;^ perhaps it is due to both.* At any rate, to say that this feeling is the cause of the explosion or the movement, is like saying that the intensification of the impulse is the cause of the impulse, or that I desire an act because I desire it strongly. We must therefore say to the advocates of this view : (1) If you claim that every act has for its 1 Ktilpe, Psychology^ English translation, p. 266. 2 Bain, Wundt, Preyer. « James and Miinsterberg. * Ladd, Psychology, pp. 221 ff. 234 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS motive a feeling of pain, as in the examples first mentioned, you are in error ; not all acts are thus produced. (2) If by the feeling of pain you mean the feeling of uneasiness which accompanies an impulse, you are wrong again, for (a) this feeling is not an essential antecedent to every act, and (5) it cannot be said to precede the impulse and set it in motion, it is the impulse itself intensified.^ 10. Unconscious Pleasure-Pain as the Motive. — Psychology makes against the view that pleasure and pain, in any of the forms discussed above, are the sole motives to action. We are deter- mined in our conduct not merely by pleasure and pain, or the hope or fear of pleasure and pain. Convinced of this fact, and yet unwilling to abandon his general proposition, the hedonist might say: True, the will is roused to action not merely by con- scious pleasure or pain, or by a conscious idea of pleasure and pain, but by unconscious pleasure and pain, or by an unconscious presentation of pleasure and pain. That is to say, I am guided in many of my doings by unconscious pleasure and pain. My will is directed toward pleasure without knowing it. I strive after wealth, honor, fame, for the sake of the pleasure they will bring, without, however, always being aware of it. Wealth, honor, and fame, like the food which we eat, are sought after for the pleasure which they procure, though we may not be conscious of the fact. 1 Ktilpe, Psychology, p. 267. CRITIQUE OF HEDONISM 235 This, it seems to me, is rather a weak basis upon which to rest a theory. What happens in the realm of the unconscious I have no means of telling ; indeed, I do not even know whether there is such a thing as an unconscious soul-life. When the hedo- nist has recourse to the unconscious he has recourse to the metaphysical; he shifts the problem from psy- chology to philosophy. As Sidgwick says : " The proposition would be difficult to disprove. . . When once we go beyond the testimony of conscious- ness, there seems to be no clear method of deter- mining which among the consequences of any action is the end at which it is aimed. For the same reason, however, the proposition is at any rate equally difficult to prove." ^ But suppose we permit the concept of the uncon- scious to enter into our discussion. The hedonist claims that man blindly strives after pleasure, that he is unconsciously determined by pleasure or pain, or the idea of pleasure and pain. This assumption must be proved in some way. How can the hedo- nist prove it ? How can he show us what takes place behind the curtain of the unconscious ? By refer- ring to the effects or results of the blind striving? That is, shall we say. Pleasure is the invariable effect of unconscious striving, hence pleasure is the unconscious motive ? But even if the premise were true, would that make the conclusion true ? Besides, is the premise true ? Can we prove that pleasure 1 Methods of Ethics, p. 53. 236 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS CRITIQUE OF HEDONISM 237 is the invariable effect or consequence of all blind striving ? I believe not. In the first place many results follow our impulses : movements, sensations, feelings of pleasure and pain, feelings of satisfaction due to the realization of the impulse, ideas, other impulses, etc. The realization of every impulse is accom- panied and followed by elements of thinking, feeling, and willing. Now why should I pick out one of these and say that it is the unconscious choice of the mind ? Besides, waiving this point, does the pleas- ure always come? Say that I am striving after wealth. My ostensible aim is the money ; but, says hedonism, the real aim is pleasure. Pleasure, which is the secret power behind the throne, invari- ably follows the realization of desire. Is this true ? I work and struggle and accumulate money, but am I ever satisfied? Hedonism in this form consists of nothing but a lot of unproved suppositions : — (1) That there are unconscious states of mind ; (2) That there can be unconscious pleasures and pains, or unconscious ideas of pleasure-pains ; (3) That pleasure-pains are the only unconscious motives that can lead to action ; (4) That pleasure and pain are the universal accompaniments of action. 11. The Psychological Fallacies of Hedonism. — I believe that we may now say without fear of contradiction that psychology makes against the view that pleasure is the sole motive to action. We are not prompted to action solely by feelings of pleasure and pain, or ideas of pleasure and pain. It is a psychological fallacy to claim that we are. Generally speaking, this fallacy is based upon the following misconceptions : — (1) Hedonistic psychologists hold that all feelings must be either pleasurable or painful, and that pleasure-pain constitutes the only class of feeling. This hypothesis, however, has not been proved to the satisfaction of a large number of psycholo- gists. (2) Hedonistic psychologists confuse impulses and desires with pleasurable and painful feelings. There is frequently present in consciousness, as we have pointed out, a more or less distinct idea of move- ment, together with a tendency toward it, a feeling of impulsion toward it, "a pressure from within, outward." This impulsion is felt as pleasurable until it reaches a certain point, when it may become painful. According as we unduly emphasize either the pleasurable or painful aspects of such states of consciousness as these, we shall assert either that pleasure or that pain is the invariable antecedent of action. But we must guard against wholly identify- ing the feeling of impulsion with pleasure or pain ; the impulse contains more than these elements, as we have pointed out above. Whether the physiological cause of the feeling-impulse is a nervous current running from the brain, or whether it is the excita- 238 INTRODUCTION' TO ETHICS tion produced in the brain by the resulting move- ments in the muscles, joints, and skin, or whether it is both, does not concern us here. One thing seems certain : the impulse on its mental side is more than pleasure and pain. (3) Hedonistic psychologists also identify the affirmation or fiat of the will with pleasure, and the negation or veto with pain. They find that when the mind decides a case, there is a " tone of f eeliner " present, which, since pleasure-pains are the only feelings possible, must be a form of pleasure or pain. But though pleasures and pains are frequently fused with the state of consciousness which characterizes an act of will (in our sense), they are not the only elements contained in it, nor are they the all-impor- tant ones. « (4) Hedonistic psychologists also notice that the cognitive elements preceding an act are always changing, while the feeling-element remains the same. Hence they come to -regard the feelings as the invariable antecedents of acts, and set them up as the motives of action. They make two mistakes here : They regard all feelings as tones or shades of pleasure-pain ; and they conclude that because a certain aspect of consciousness precedes action, it must be the motive or cause of action. (5) Hedonistic psychologists also believe that all acts are accompanied or followed by pleasure-pains, and therefore conclude that these must be the motives. But, as we have shown, it does not necessarily follow CRITIQUE OF HEDONISM 239 that because pleasure-pains are the effects or results of acts they are therefore also the causes. 12. The Pleasure of the Race as the Motive,^ But perhaps our opponents will say, We do not mean that the pleasure of self is the end or motive, but the pleasure of the race, the greatest happiness of the greatest number. ^ We may urge the same objections against this view as against the other. It cannot be proved that all human beings strive after the pleasure of the race, that the idea of racial pleasure is the motive of human action. And to say that they unconsciously strive after the happiness of the race is as objec- tionable, in a certain sense, as to say that they unconsciously strive after their own pleasure. 13. Pleasure as the End realized hy All Action, — Our conclusion, then, is this : If by the assertion, Pleasure, or happiness, is the end of life or the highest good, we mean that feelings of pleasure-pain, in some form or other, are the motives of human action, the theory cannot stand. l.et us now inter- pret hedonism in a different sense.2 Let us take it to mean that pleasure is the end or purpose of all action in the sense that all living beings realize pleasure, and that the realization of pleasure is the object of their existence. But the first question which forces itself upon us here is this. Is pleasure really the result of all action ? It will have to be proved not only that ^ Mm, Utilitarianism, pp. 22-23. 2 See chap, viii, § l (2). -i« 240 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS pleasure is a result of action, but the result, i.e., that all animals get more pleasure out of life than pain. We have already seen that Aristotle regards pleasure as the consequence or concomitant of nor- mal or natural activity, while pain is linked with abnormal or injurious action. Spencer declares that " pains are the correlatives of actions injurious to the organism, while pleasures are the correlatives of acts conducive to its welfare." By conducive and injurious he means "tending to continuance or increase of life," and the reverse.^ Bain teaches that "states of pleasure are connected with an increase, and states of pain with an abatement, of some or all, of the vital functions." 2 Although there are differences in expression, all these statements evidently mean the same, namely, that " pleasure is significant of activities which are beneficial, and pain is significant of what is harmful, either to the total organism of the individual or of the species, or to the particular organ primarily involved. "^ Although this theory is not free from objections,* let us accept it for the sake of argument. Let us assume that pleasure accompanies beneficial activity, and that pain is the concomitant of all action that is harmful and dangerous. Functions, then, which are 1 Psychology, § 124 ; Data of Ethics, § 33. 2 The Senses and the Intellect, 4th edition, chap, iv, § 18, p. 303. «Ladd, Psychology, p. 191. See also Sidgwick, Methods of Ethics, pp. 177 ff. ; Kiilpe, Psychology, English translation, pp. 267 ff. ; Marshall, Pleasure, Pain, and Esthetics, especially pp. 169 ff. * See Ladd, Kiilpe, Sidgwick, Marshall. CRITIQUE OF HEDONISM 241 useful are followed by pleasure, while those which are injurious have pain as their consequence. But would this prove that pleasure is the end of all animal existence, either in the sense in which we speak of vision being the end or purpose of the eye, or in the sense that God or some intelligent principle' in nature has set up as the goal the pleasure of living beings ? When we speak of ends we may merely mean that a certain result is obtained, that life, for example, is tendmg in a certain direction. Thus, we say that an organ realizes a purpose. The eye is a purposive or teleological mechanism; it has a function to perform which is useful to the animal, it serves a purpose, realizes an end. Now, is pleasure the end of life in this sense? Pleasure or happiness is a result of human existence, one of the results, a result among others. But how can we say that it is the highest end, that all other factors and functions are means to this ? We can say that perception, imagination, reasoning, willing, etc., are means to pleasure, but can we not say with equal right that pleasure is a means to these ? How can we prove that pleasure is the final goal of life ? Why pick out one element of psychic life and say that the realization of this element is the goal toward which everything is making, the end-all and be-all of ammal existence ? Would it not be like claiming that seeing is the highest goal because normal beings possess an organ of sight ? Would it not be more 242 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS reasonable to say that the different organs of the body are means to a higher end — the life of the entire body, of which the organs are parts ; and that therefore every organ is a means to bodily life, and in so far as life consists of its organs, a partial end- in-itself ? And would it not also be more reasonable to say that the realization of all mental states is the end, rather than that one element, wliich never exists alone in consciousness, is the end ? It would be absurd to say that the whole body and its organs, the whole mind and all its functions, are the subor- dinate means to pleasure. It would be like saying that all the organs of the body are merely means of seeing, that vision is the end of life. Would it not be more plausible to reverse the statement and say, Vision is a means of life, and pleasure and pain are both means of preservation ? 14. Pleasure- Pain as a Means of Preservation, — We can say that pain serves as a warning, pleasure as a bait. When the animal feels pain it makes movements of defence or flight. Pleasure and pain may be conceived as primitive forms of the knowledge of good and evil, as Paulsen expresses it. When the dangerous object is near at hand, the danger to life is greatest, and pain, therefore, most easily aroused. We find greater sensibility to pain in direct touch than in indirect touching like seeing and hearing. ^ 1 See Nichols, article on "Pleasure and Pain," Philosophical Review^ Vol. I, pp. 414 ff. CRITIQUE OF HEDONISM 243 It seems, also, that as we pass from lower to higker forms of organic life (from lower animals to man, and from the lower organs to the higher), pleasure and pain gradually fall into the background. In the lowest forms the animal must come into direct con- tact with objects before it can feel and know how to act with regard to them. Tactual sensations plus feelings of pleasure and pain would assist the animal in preserving itself. In the course of time, however, organs are developed which enable the animal to be- come aware of helpful and dangerous things without coming into such close contact with them. By means of the organs of taste, smell, hearing, and sight, the animal practically touches objects at a greater and greater distance, and the farther away the object of sense is, the less pain and pleasure does it arouse. I see no better way of interpreting such facts as these than by conceiving the feelings of pleasure and pain as means to an end — preservation. We may reach a similar result by considering the function which memory performs. Even though it were true that every sensation had to be felt origi- nally as pleasurable or painful in order to inform the animal of the nature of the object before it, and to release the appropriate movement with reference to it, we can understand how an animal possessing the power to retain its experiences could learn to act without being prompted by feelings of pleasure and pain. The touch or sight of the object might call 244 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS up the thought of the pleasure or pain experienced before, and the animal might act appropriately with- out feeling peripherally excited pleasure or pain. The animal could tell what was good or bad for it without directly experiencing pleasure or pain at all, because each sensation would be associated with ideas or copies of past sensations, and it could pre- serve itself because these ideas would call up certain movements which had been made before. Indeed, the sensation itself might come to be associated with the appropriate movements, without the interven- tion of any additional element. The sight of the hawk may be associated in the consciousness of the hen with certain tendencies to action, and here the association may have been formed during the history of the species ; it may be the result of race experi- ence. The sight of a cliff over which the mule has once fallen may become associated in the mind of the animal with the thought of its past experience, and cause it to hesitate. Here the association is the result of individual experience. In both cases, how- ever, a feeling of aversion is perhaps felt in the pres- ence of the dangerous object, and this may be followed by a movement or the inhibition of a movement. Now in the case of man abstract reasoning is added to the other processes. We pick out certain char- acteristics from the concrete object which we are considering, and connect them with certain general consequences. ^ We reason from the fact that a man « ' See James, Psychology : "Reasoning," Vol. II, chap. xxii. CRITIQUE OF HEDONISM 245 has certain symptoms that he has a certain disease and prescribe a particular mode of treatment. The' general discovers a weakness in the enemy's line of battle, and makes the movements which will lead to the desired overthrow of the opposing force. It seems, then, that in the lowest stages of life the feelings of pleasure and pain serve as signs that the act IS preservative. Afterward this element falls into the background, and other signs are employed. 1 ercepts and ideas are associated either with the idea of pleasure or pain, which, in turn, is associated with the idea of some appropriate movement; or the per- cept or idea is associated directly with the act, as is the case with instincts, habitual acts, ideo-motor action, etc. Hence we may say again what we found to be true before : Feelings of pleasure and pain often serve as signs of what furthers and hinders life- sometimes the ideas of such feelings, that is, the expectation of pleasure and pain, sometimes other Ideas, indicate it. Hence it is fair to say that pleasures and pains are means of guiding the will ; they assist the will in preserving and pro- moting individual and generic life. Whenever these results can be attained without the help of pleasure and pain, other means are employed, i'leasure is not the end aimed at by the will, but a means. It is far more reasonable to say that the will blindly strives for the preservation and the development of life, and that pleasure and pain 246 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS are among its guides, than to say that pleasure is the end and life the means. The part is a means to the whole of which it is the part; the whole is not a means to an individual part. 15. The Phyuological Basis of Pleasure-Pain. — Now let us look at the matter physiologically. Let us consider what are the physiological condi- tions of pleasure and pain. When I exercise an organ moderately, a pleasant feeling arises ; when I overexercise it, an unpleasant feeling is the result. A too intense light causes pain ; a very loud sound does the same. It is often said that a very weak sensation is accompanied by an unpleasant feeling. This is true, however, only when we attempt to pay attention to it, in Avhich case the pain is due to the effort we make. We may suppose that when an organ is exercised or stimulated, the cortical centre to which or from which the current runs has its nervous substance, its cells, destroyed. The energy in the cells is used up. But the energy is restored as quickly as possible by the blood, which carries nourishment. If the expended central energy is restored quickly enough to make up for the waste, a pleasant feeling arises. But when the cellular substance is not restored rapidly enough, we get unpleasant feelings. When the nervous system is acted upon, blood is carried to the parts in action in order to restore the expended force. The arte- ries are dilated. This explains the changes in pulse, respiration, etc., which accompany or follow pleas- CRITIQUE OF HEDONISM 247 urable feelings. When, however, too severe a drain IS made upon the parts in action, the blood does not carry enough nourishment, and the lost energy is not restored. Pain ensues. The breaking down of the cells reacts upon the movement of the arte- ries ; the greater the demand made upon them, the less they can do ; they become constricted. Hence, intense bodily pain may produce a swoon, " and the' tortures of the rack have sometimes put the victim to sleep."! Now to say that pleasure is the end, would mean, when translated into physiological language, that the entire body, with all its complicated organs, was nothing but a means for keeping the nervous energy m such a state that destruction should ndt exceed construction.2 This is manifestly absurd. The sanest view to take is that the physiological con- dition corresponding to pleasure is a sign of the proper functioning of the system, that the health and integrity of the entire system is the end which is realized by the proper functioning of the nervous and every other system. 16. 3Ietaphj8ical Hedonism. — Much harder would it be to prove that pleasure is the highest end 1 Ktilpe, Psychology, p. 273. See Sutherland, The Origin and (rroicth of the Moral Instinct, Vol. II, chap. xxii. 2 Or, if we assume the existence of special pain and pleasure nerves, the hedonistic physiolo See Sir Henry Maine, Early Law and Custom, p. 57. tl THE HIGHEST GOOD 279 also shows a gradual progress of sympathy. ^ Of Rome Lecky says : " The moral expression of the first period is obviously to be found in the narrower military and patriotic virtues ; that of tiie second period in enlarged philanthropy and sympathy." ^ Our sympathies are widening and deepening in mod- ern times, as witness universal peace congresses, de- mands for international arbitration, protests against the barbarities practised in many of the less civilized countries, the progress of socialism, the building of hospitals and other charitable institutions, the estab- lishment of societies for the prevention of cruelty to animals. We care not only for ourselves as indi- viduals and as a nation, but for humanity in general. But the time has not yet come when there will be no more conflicts between self-regarding impulses and acts, and other-regarding impulses and acts. The selfishness of the individual is apt to overwhelm his sympath}^ in many instances, and to lead him to encroach upon the domain of others. He is, how- ever, kept in check by the self-assertion of those upon whose claims he trespasses, as well as by the sympathetic opposition of his fellows. Rules gradu- ally come into existence forbidding certain modes of conduct and enjoining others. Certain acts arouse in consciousness the moral sentiments referred to before, and we have moral codes. Morality is there- fore developed as a necessary means of realizing the 1 Lecky, History of European Morals, Vol. I, pp. 228 f, 2/6., Vol. I, p. 239. * 280 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS \\ highest good, or the unconditional desires of the human race. If the highest good could be realized without a moral code, as we intimated* before, there would be no moral laws, or any other laws, for that matter. Laws are made to hinder certain things and to enforce others, and arise only after the par- ticular actions have taken place. In a certain sense, therefore, the lawbreakers are the lawmakers. One thing I should like to emphasize here, and that is that morality is a means to an end; that, generally speaking, the moral code embraces only such rules as make it possible for human beings to realize the end or purpose or highest good. Moral- ity aims to remove all the obstacles in the way of the end. It is not the embodiment of all the aims and strivings of the race. It is not so comprehensive as to guide the individual in all his attempts to realize the highest good. In other words, not all modes of conduct are felt as obligatory which satisfy the desires of the race. Only such acts will gather around them the moral sentiments as are commanded by the race, and only such will be commanded, in the main, as are absolutely necessary, or are believed to be necessary, to the life of society. The moral code, then, does not embrace the whole of conduct. Life and its ideals are broader than morality. The aims and ideals of humanity are not exhausted by the aims of morality. Without morality humanity cannot reach its goal ; morality is the conditio sine qua non^ but the fulfilment of the THE HIGHEST GOOD 281 law alone will not realize the aspirations of man- kind. ^ To illustrate : The laws of hygiene must be observed in order that I may reach my goal ; the laws of hygiene are means to a higher end ; obedi- ence to them is an essential condition of the realiza- tion of my hopes and aspirations. But it does not follow from this that if I obey them my aims will be realized. My aims are broader than the aims of hygiene. So my aims as a human being are broader than my aims as a moral being; they include the laws of morality, but are not exhausted by them. Another point needs emphasis. The purpose of the moral law, we may say, is to make possible indi- vidual and social life. Moral acts tend to promote individual and social welfare. Morality draws the circle, as it were, within which human beings may safely pursue their ends without doing injury to each other. Stealing, lying, and murder tend to injure both the agent and his environment; there- fore the command. Do not steal, lie, or murder. Honesty, truthfulness, and self-control tend to pro- mote the welfare of the man who possesses these virtues as well as of his surroundings; therefore, be truthful, honest, and moderate. If the view advanced in the foregoing is correct, we can draw certain conclusions. If morality is in the service of the ideal or highest good, then it must, in a measure, be dependent on this ideal. Changes in the ideals of the race will lead to changes in the 1 See Munsterberg, Ursprung der Sittlichkeit, IV, pp. 98 ff. 282 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS moral code. Now we have already noticed that ideals change and grow. One age and people is more combative or more peace-loving, or more self- ish or more sympathetic than another, and w411 therefore emphasize the virtue of courage or submis- sion or self-assertion or benevolence. Where the ideal is an ascetic one, the moral law will prohibit forms of conduct which are not only regarded as totally indifferent, but even essential in societies aiming, say, at physical advancement. The care which the ancient Greek bestowed upon his body seemed not only foolish, but sinful, to the mediseval saint. Where the ideal is a political one, it is re- garded as the duty of the citizen to take part in politics. When the sphere of persons sympathized with is a narrow one, as is frequently the case at the beginnings of historical life, the moral code embraces only the members of the same tribe or nation. The Greeks regarded all foreigners as barbarians and enemies, and the Jews always looked upon them- selves as the chosen people of God.^ Now it frequently happens that the moral code of a people does not keep step with its ideals ; indeed, it may even be an impediment to the realization of the highest good. In such cases a conflict is apt to ensue between the old and the new. The conserva- 1 Foreigner and enemy originally meant the same thing ; think of the words ^ev6s and hostis. See R^e, EntsteJmng des Geicissens, p. 150 ; Heam, Arijan Household^ p. 19 ; M'Lennan, Primitive Marriage^ p. 107 ; and others quoted by R^e. THE HIGHEST GOOD 283 tive element will cling to the old rules, while the younger generation will turn its face to the future. When Jesus Christ preached the doctrine of univer- sal brotherly love, and changed the old narrow Hebrew conception of God and His relation to man, he made a change in morality absolutely necessary. Even where ideals remain practically stable, con- ditions may change to such an extent as to make old forms of conduct useless and even harmful, and new ones necessary. But human beings are creatures of habit, and look with suspicion on the new. Conse- quently, certain modes of conduct are often con- tinued and enjoined as right long after they Ijave lost their raison d'etre.^ But there are many modes of conduct which re- main moral in spite of all changes in ideals, and they are those without the observance of which no earthly ideal can ever be realized. No community can exist and pursue ideals, in which falsehood, murder, and treachery thrive. Even a band of thieves must obey some of the laws of morality in order to be able to live together at all. Only in case the ideal were death and ruin instead of life and happiness, would the commonly accepted rules of morality have to give way to others. A community seeking death instead of life, ought not to foster the virtues of truth, honor, loyalty, honesty, justice, and chastity, for these are the very life of life. " The w^ages of sin is death." 1 See Paulsen's Ethics, Introduction. I I 284 INTRODUCTION' TO ETHICS 11. Conclusion, — Our conclusion is this: The summum bonum or highest good is that which human beings universally strive after for its own sake, which for them has absolute worth. It differs for different nations and times, depending upon different inner and outer conditions. Hence it is not possible to give a detailed picture of the highest good. All that we can do is to observe the similar- ities existing between the different ideals of human- ity, and to embrace these under a general formula or principle. This formula or principle is, of course, bound to be vague and indefinite, a mere outline of the general direction of human strivings. We defined it as the preservation and unfolding of indi- vidual and social, physical and spiritual life, in adap- tation to the surroundings. Whatever rules are developed by mankind for the realization of the highest good, and produce the moral sentiments re- ferred to before, are called moral rules. The object of these rules is to make the realization of the ideal possible. Morality is a means to an end, just as law is a means to an end. But in the case of moral- ity the rules must, generally speaking, arouse certain sentiments, such as obligation, approval, disapproval, etc. Hence moral facts are characterized by the effects which acts and motives have upon the con- sciousness of the individuals as well as upon their general welfare. The knowledge we have gained thus far will enable us to examine the different moral codes, and THE HIGHEST GOOD 285 to criticize them. We can now judge of a people's conduct in a more rational way ; we can tell whether the race is realizing its purpose, the highest good. We can also tell what modes of conduct are neces- sary to the realization of the ideal, and say that they ought to be pursued. This part of our problem would belong to practical ethics. CHAPTER X OPTIMISM VEBSUS PESSIMISM i 1. Optimism and Pessimism, — We said that the end or aim of human life, i.e., the highest good, was the exercise of human functions. This means, of course, that human beings set a value upon things, that they regard certain ends as having absolute worth for them. They value their lives and those of others ; they prize development and progress for its own sake. In other words, they regard life as worth living, as good, as the best thing for them {optimum^. We may call this view optimism. This conception is opposed by a set of thinkers who declare that life is not worth living, that it is not a good, but an evil, not the best thing, but the worst thing (pessimum'). We may call this theory pessimism. iDuhring, Der Werth des Lebens ; Hartmann, Zur Geschichte und Begrundung des Fpssimismus ; Sully, Pessimism, A History and Criticism; Sommer, Der Pessimismus und die Sittenlehre; Plumacher, Der Pessimismus in Vergaugenheit und Gegemmrt; Paulsen, Ethics, Bk. II, chaps, ill, iv, vii ; Wallace, "Pessimism,'' Encyclopedia Britannica ; Lubbock, The Pleasures of Life. See the bibliography in Sully's Pessimism, pp. xvii, xix. For much that is contained m tiie following chapter I am indebted to Paul- sen's admirable chapters on "Pessimism," " The Evil, the Bad and Theodicy," and "Virtue and Happiness." 286 OPTIMISM VERSUS PESSIMISM 287 Let us examine this view somewhat more in detail. There are two ways of treating the subject. I may say that my life is not worth living, that /do not care for it, that to me it seems an evil rather than a good. Here I offer no proofs for my statements, but sim- ply express my personal feelings toward life, my individual attitude toward it. This is subjective or unscientific pessimism. Or I may attempt to prove scientifically that life in general is not worth living, that it is unreasonable or illogical for any one to care for it. This is objective or scientific or philo- sophical pessimism. We shall have occasion to refer to both forms in the course of the following discussion. 2. Subjective Pessimism. — Lord Bacon gives us a characteristic estimate of the value of life in these pessimistic lines : — " The world's a bubble, and the life of man Less than a span : In his conception wretched, from the womb So to the tomb ; Curst from his cradle, and brought up to years With cares and fears. Who then to frail mortality shall trust, But limns on water, or but writes in dust.** Shakespeare's Hamlet expresses himself in a simi- lar strain : — " How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable Seem to me the uses of this world ; Fie on't, oh, fie ! 'Tis an unweeded garden That grows to seed ; things rank and gross in nature Possess it merely.'* 288 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS And Keats in his Ode to the Nightingale draws an equally mournful picture of the world in which his unhappy lot has been cast : — " Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget What thou among the leaves hast never known, The weariness, the fever, and the fret Here, where men sit and hear each other groan ; Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs. Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies; Where but to think is to be full of sorrow And leaden-eyed despairs ; Where beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes. Or new love pine at them beyond to-raorrow." These pessimistic utterances, however, prove noth- ing but the temporary mood of the poet who gives vent to them. They are common to every age and every clime, and are symptoms of the weariness and disappointment that lay hold upon the race in its struggle toward perfection. There is scarcely a person living who does not sometimes succumb to the black demon of melancholy, who does not at times long " to lie down like a tired child and weep away this life of care." And we may say that he is none the worse for it. Pessimistic broodingrs are like the storm-clouds that gather on the horizon, and in a healthy life pass away as quickly as they came, leaving the mental atmosphere calm and pure. It is only when such moods become chronic and per- manent that they prove dangerous to both the indi- vidual and the race, for unless we regard life as worth living we shall not live it as it ought to be lived. OPTIMISM VERSUS PESSIMISM 289 There are persons, however, with whom pessimism is not merely a passing feeling, but a philosophic creed. A man may, like Hamlet or Faust, look upon life as burdensome to him, and express himself to that effect. When Hamlet says that the world seems weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable to him, we cannot refute him, because he is simply telling how the world affects him, what feelings it arouses in him. His feelings are facts, and as such incontrovertible. When you tell me that you do not value life, that you prefer death to life, and wish you had never been born, I cannot refute you any more than you can refute me when I say that I love life and am glad I am here. We are both simply giving expression to our feelings, and no one knows better how we feel than we ourselves. De gustihus 7ion disputandum. 3. Scientific Pessimism, — But when yoif dogmati- cally declare that life is not worth living, that there is nothing in it for anybody, that it has absolutely no value, that instead of being a blessing it is a curse, you are making general assertions which call for proof. You are advancing a theory of life which shall be valid for all, and theories can be proved and refuted. You will have to show whg life is not worth living ; you will have to give reasons for your view, and reasons we can examine and criticise. Now, it can be shown, I believe, that pessimism as a philosophic creed is untenable, and that the opti- mistic conception of life is far more rational. ^ 1 Philosophical pessimists : Schopenhauer, World as Will and I 290 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS Let us see. The pessimist may argue that life is not worth living because it does not realize the end or goal desired by man. Life is worthless be- cause it fails to yield what human beings most prize, because it fails to realize the summum honum or the highest good. Hence, to desire life is to desire some- thing you really do not want, — an exceedingly senseless procedure. But what is the highest good ? it may be asked; what is the goal at which we are all aiming ? There are as many different forms of pessimism as there are answers to this question. Let us consider some of them. (a) The highest good is knowledge, one pessimist may argue ; life does not realize it for us, we do not and cannot know anything ; hence, life is not worth living. Let us call this intellectual pessimism. It is preached by such characters as Faust: — " I've studied now Philosophy, And Jurisprudence, Medicine, — And even, alas. Theology, — From end to end, with labor keen ; And here, poor fool, with all my lore I stand no wiser than before." ^ (h) The highest good is pleasure or happiness, says another pessimist. Now life does not realize /dcrt, English translation by Haldane and Kemp, Vol. I, Bk. IV ; Vol. 11, Appendix to Bk. IV ; Parerr/a, chaps, xi, xii, xiv ; Bahn- sen, Ziir Philosophie der Geschichte ; Mainlander,- Die Philosophie der Erlosiing ; Hartmann, Die Philosophie des Unbewussten, translated by Coupland. Consult Sully's bibliography referred to before, and read his preface to the second edition. 1 Bayard Taylor's translation of Goethe's Faust. OPTIMISM VERSUS PESSIMISM 291 this end ; indeed, it yields more pain than pleasure ; hence, life is a failure. We find traces of this view, which we might call emotional pessimism, in the Old Testament, as, indeed, we are bound to find them in every book that holds the mirror up to the soul of man. " For what hath man of all his labor, and of all the vexation of his heart, wherein he hath labored under the sun. For all his days are sorrows, and his travail grief ; yea, his heart taketh not rest in the night." " The days of our age are threescore years and ten, and though men be so strong that they come to fourscore years: yet is their strength then but labor and sorrow ; so soon passeth it away, and we are gone." (c) No, says still another, the highest good is vir- tue; life does not realize virtue, men are wicked, the world is thoroughly bad ; hence, life in a world like this is not worth living. " The race is not to the swift nor the battle to the strong ; neither yet bread to the wise, nor yet riches to men of understanding, nor yet favor to men of skill." This way of looking at the world let us characterize as volitional pessimism. 4. Intellectual Pessimism. — All these syllogisms contain unproved premises. Take the first. Knowl- edge is the highest good, knowledge is impossible, we do not know anything and we cannot know anything. In the first place, knowledge is not the highest good, but a part of the good, a means to an end. As we said before, the goal for which we are striving is a mixed life of knowledge, feeling, and 292 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS willing. The perfect or well-rounded man is not one in whom the intellectual faculties are developed at the expense of the emotional and volitional elements, but one who knows, feels, and wills in a normal manner. Besides, it cannot be said that we know nothing and can know nothing, nor can it be said that we are growing more ignorant in the course of history. We may not be able to discover the ultimate essences of things, or to solve all the riddles of existence, but our knowledge is sufficient to guide us in the practical affairs of life. We are gaining a deeper insight into the workings of nature, and our power over the world is increasing in consequence. The wonderful progress that has been made in mod- ern technics is undoubtedly due to our improved knowledge of the laws of the physical universe, and it is safe to predict that we shall make even greater advances along these lines in the future. But we have learned from experience in all depart- ments of life, and are doing our work much better than it has been done in the past, and succeeding generations will most likely improve upon our methods. « 5. Emotional Pessimism. — This form of pessimism is also open to criticism. Let us see. Pleasure or happiness is the highest good. Life does not procure it for us ; hence life is not good. But pleasure is not the end of life, as we have already pointed out ; pleasure or happiness is a means to a higher end and a part of that end. However, let us waive this point, OPTIMISM VERSUS PESSIMISM 298 and examine the other statement, the one that life yields more pain than pleasure. There are two pos- sible ways of arguing for the truth of this assertion. We must either show, by reference to experience, that the world is a vale of tears, which would give us an inductive proof ; or we must prove on a priori grounds that life cannot possibly be happy, that human nature and the very universe itself are so con- stituted as to preclude the possibility of such a thing. (1) Now, I ask, can either proof be furnished? Pessimists are fond of telling us that life yields a surplus of pain, that the balance is on the pain side of the ledger. But it is impossible to make the necessary calculations in this field. Take your own individual existence. Can you say that a particular pain is more painful than a particular pleasure is pleasurable? Then can you add up the different pleasures and pains which you have experienced during a single day or hour of your life, and com- pare the results? And can you, in like manner, compute the pleasures and pains of your entire life, and say that your pains exceed your pleasures ? And if you cannot give a safe estimate of the pleas- ures and pains of your own life, with which you are reasonably familiar, how can you make the calcula- tions for others, and for the entire race, and say that they suffer more than they enjoy? How can you say that the amount of pleasure realized by one indi- vidual is counterbalanced or exceeded by the pain suffered by another ? 294 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS (2) The great German pessimist, Schopenhauer, attempts to prove deductively^ from the nature of man's will, that life yields more pains than pleas- ures. Life consists of blind cravings which are pain- ful so long as they are not satisfied. When I desire a thing and do not get it, I am miserable ; when I get it I am satisfied for a moment, and then desire some- thing else, and am miserable again. I am never permanently satisfied ; I am constantly yearning for something I do not possess ; there is a worm in every flower. " Every human life oscillates between desire and fulfilment. Wishes are by their very nature painful ; their realization soon sates us ; the goal was but an illusion ; possession takes away the desire, but the wish reappears under a new form ; if not, emptiness, hollowness, ennui, Langeweile^ results, which is as much of a torture as want." ^ I go on hoping for better things day in, day out, but they never come. One illusion merely gives way to another. I keep on longing and longing until the angel of death takes pity on me and folds me under his wing. Each particular day brings me nearer to the grave, the awful end of it all. Touch- stone is right when he soliloquizes : — " It is ten o'clock. Thus may we see, quoth he, how the world wags : 'Tis but an hour ago since it was nine; And after an hour more 'twill be eleven ; 1 Schopenhauer's Works, Frauenstadt's edition, The World as Will and Idea, Vol. I, p. 370. 4 OPTIMISM VERSUS PESSIMISM 295 And so from hour to hour we ripe and ripe; And then from hour to hour we rot and rot; And thereby hangs a tale I " We are like shipwrecked mariners who struggle and struggle to save their wearied bodies from the terrible waves, only to be engulfed in them at last.i " The life of most men," says Schopenhauer, " is but a continuous struggle for existence, — a struggle which they are bound to lose at last.2 " "Every breath we draw is a protest against the Death which is constantly threatening us, and against which we are fighting every second. But Death must conquer after all, for we are his by birth, and he simply plays with his prey a little while before devouring it. We, however, take great pains to prolong our lives as far as we can, just as we blow soap-bubbles as long and as large as possible, though we know with absolute certainty that they must break at last."^ In an old poem by William Drummond a similar thought is expressed : — " This life which seems so fair, Is like a bubble blown up in the air ' By sporting children's breath, Who chase it everywhere And strive who can most motion it bequeath. And though it sometimes seem of its own might Like to an eye of gold to be fixed there, And firm to hover in that empty height, That only is because it is so light. 1 The World as Will and Idea, Vol. I, p. 369. 2/6., p. 368. ^ lb., p. 367. 296 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS — But in that pomp it doth not long appear ; For when 'tis most admired, in a thought, Because it erst was nought, it turns to nought.'* Another proof of the futility of life is this : Hap- piness is a purely negative quantity. It can never be realized except by the satisfaction of a desire. With the satisfaction of the desire, however, the desire itself, and with it the pleasure, ceases. Hence the satisfaction of desire or happiness can mean nothing but liberation from pain or want.^ To quote Schopenhauer again : " We feel pain, but not painlessness ; we feel care, but not freedom from care ; fear, but not security. We feel the wish as we feel hunger and thirst ; but as soon as it is ful- filled, it is much the same as with the agreeable morsel, which, the very moment it is swallowed, ceases to exist for our sensibility. We miss pain- fully our pleasures and joys as soon as they fail us ; but pains are not immediately missed even when they leave us, after tarrying long with us, but at most we remember them voluntarily by means of reflection. For only pain and want can be felt positively, and so announce themselves as something really present ; happiness, on the contrary, is simply negative. Accordingly, we do not appreciate the three greatest goods of life, health, youth, and free- dom, as long as we possess them, but only after we have lost them ; for these also are negations. That certain days of our life were happy ones, we recog- V 1 The World as Will and Idea, Vol. I, p. 376. OPTIMISM VERSUS PESSIMISM 297 nize first of all, after they have made room for unhappy ones." 1 Voltaire expresses the same thought : " Hap- piness is but a dream, while sorrow is a reality. I have been experiencing this truth for fourscore years. There is nothing left for me but to resign myself to Fate, and to acknowledge that the flies are born to be eaten up by the spiders, and men to be consumed by sorrows." ^ Now I ask you. Is not all this gross exaggeration ? Is not the picture which the pessimist draws a cari- cature rather than a faithful representation of life ? Is not Schopenhauer's description of the human will that of a spoilt child rather than that of a healthy man? Of course, life is not free from disappoint- ment. True, we desire and keep on desiring, we hope and hope, often even against hope, and our hopes extend beyond the grave. But it is not so painful a thing to have desires and hopes, — nay, what would a life be worth without desires and hopes and strivings and expectations? And what would it be without struggle and an occasional disappointment ? Life is movement, action, development ; hence there can be no fixed or stable goal, a cessation of desire and striving. We cannot imagine that we shall ever reach a point of rest, a stopping-place, and that we could ever be happy in the passive enjoyment of such a state of absolute rest. If life were differently con- 1 This translation is taken from Sully's Pessimism. 2 See Schopenhauer, The World as Will and Idea, Vol. II, pp. 659 f . 298 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS stituted, it would be death and not life. Nur der verdient die FMheit und das Lehen, der taglicli sie erohern muss. The main trouble with the pessimist is that he regards a permanent, stable state of happiness as the highest good, and that he judges life in the light of a means of achieving this good. Life, however, is not a means to an end, but an end in itself, some- thing desired and prized for its own sake. It is not like a railroad journey, a means of reaching a certain given destination, but rather like a ramble through a beautiful forest, something that is enjoyed for its own sake. We enjoy the muscular activity, the shady paths, the rippling brooks, the song of the birds, the chirp of the insects, the beauty and fra- grance of the flowers, the warm sunshine and the cooling shade, the blue sky overhead and the mossy banks underfoot. There may be hills to climb, and the exercise may be hard and fatiguing; we may pass through brier and thorn, and tear the flesh; our lips may be parched with thirst, and we may feel the pangs of hunger. And we may suffer many little disappointments on the way, and become the victims of illusion, but the walk, taken as a whole, cannot be called a disappointment and illusion. So it is with life. Life has its lights and shadows, its joys and its sorrows, its victories and defeats. . " Be still, sad heart ! and cease repining; Behind the clouds is the sun still sinning; Thy fate is the common fate of all, OPTIMISM VERSUS PESSIMISM Into each life some rain must fall, Some days must be dark and dreary. 299 ft Sunshine and rain are both essential to growth. Pain is a chastener, and often more valuable as a developer of character than pleasure. Auch der Schmerz ist Gottes Bote. No strong character can be formed except in the school of sorrow and defeat. Not until you have received some sharp blows from the world, not until the iron has entered into your soul, will you become an able warrior in the ranks of life. " Sweet are the uses of adversity." And as for the negativity of happiness, the doc- trine is psychologically false. Pleasure is just as real and just as positive as pain, — indeed, even the absence of pain is felt as positively pleasurable. (3) The pessimist also attempts to prove geneti- cally/ that the pains exceed the pleasures of life by referring to the nature and development of knowledge.^ He believes with the preacher that " in much wisdom is much grief : and he that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow." The more we know the unhappier we become. Civilization means a multiplication of needs or desires, new needs mean new pains and new disappointments. More- over, the intelligent being " looks before and after, and pines for what is not." The brute lives in the present alone, regardless of the past and future, suf- fering neither remorse nor fear of death. Its igno- rance is its bliss. Man, on the other hand, reviews the 1 Schopenhauer, The World as Will and Idea, Vol. I, 365 f. 300 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS past, and suffers over again the pains that once tor- tured him ; he looks into the future, and foresees the evils awaiting him there. The fear of the coming pain is often more painful than the actual pain itself, and the horror of death is the worst pain of all. Again, man has an ideal self besides a physical self, a social me, as Professor William James calls it, his honor or reputation, the picture of himself in the hearts of others. The more complex society becomes, the greater our dependence upon our fellows and the greater the possibility of injuring the ideal self. Think of the pains of unsatisfied ambition, injured pride, unrequited love, etc., as compared with bodily hurts. And finally, as intelligence increases, our sympathies enlarge, and then we suffer not only our own sorrows, but those of others. We die a thou- sand deaths.^ There is undoubtedly a great deal of truth in these reflections, but they are, like the entire pessi- mistic philosophy, one-sided. It is true that as life unfolds, the possibilities for suffering pain increase. The surface of sensitivity to pain becomes larger, as it were. But look at the other side of the picture. The pleasures also grow in extent and intent. Civil- ization creates new needs, very true; but it also creates new means of satisfying them. New needs mean new activities, new activities mean new pleasures. It is likewise true that we anticipate future sorrows, but do we not also look forward to 1 See, especially, Parerga, chap, xii, §§ 154 ff. OPTIMISM VERSUS PESSIMISM 301 future pleasures, and do we not enjoy them in advance ? Is not the feeling of hope a joyful feel- ing ; is it not a blessing instead of a curse? Human beings also fear the future, but can we say that they hope less than they fear? Is it not the tendency of men to paint the future in rosy colors, and always to be expecting better things ? It seems so to me. it " Hope springs eternal in the human breast. *' Am Grabe noch pjlanzt er die Hoffnung auf.^ And when it comes to looking backward, do we not forget the troubles we have passed through and linger upon the happy hours we have spent ? Our griefs lose their sting in retrospect ; time heals all wounds. We come to view our sorrows and dis- appointments as blessings in disguise, as stepping- stones to higher things. The same remarks apply to our ideal selves. We grieve when we are for- gotten or not thought well of, when we are despised and hated ; but we likewise rejoice when we are loved and admired and applauded. And though we suffer the sorrows of others, we also enjoy their pleasures. Besides, it is sweet to be sympathized with by others ; nothing affords us greater consola- tion in our grief than to gaze into the tearful eyes of friendship; and nothing fills our hearts with deeper joy than to share our good fortune with those we love. The long and short of it is that, if the growth of intelligence does increase our sorrows, it also 302 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS increases our joys. In what proportion? The optimist claims that there is a balance in favor of pleasure or happiness, while the pessimist declares that the pain exceeds the pleasure. We cannot prove either side statistically, but I believe with healtliy common sense that optimism is in the right. If the biological view is true, which holds that pleas- urable feelings go with beneficial activity, and pain- ful feelings with harmful action, we may claim that a healthy life, one adapted to its surroundings, yields more pleasure than pain, and that inasmuch as the normal healthy beings outnumber the abnor- mal ones, there is more happiness than sorrow in the world. We may also point out the fact that if pleasure is linked with beneficial activity, and pain with harmful action, then the animals feeling pleasure will be preserved, while the others will perish. The fact that a man is alive at all would, in a measure, indicate that he was happy, for if he did not get more pleasure out of life than pain, the chances are that he would be eliminated. The world belongs to those who can adapt themselves to it and enjoy it. And even if it could be shown that pain is in excess of pleasure, this would not justify absolute pessimism. Perhaps this world is a vale of tears ; but is it necessarily so? Perhaps it is full of sorrow and disappointment ; but may that not be due to conditions which may be changed? If the pessimist would only spend the time and energy which he OPTIMISM VERSUS PESSIMISM 303 wastes in complaining and weeping, in ameliorating the conditions of the unfortunate, he would most likely soon be converted into an optimist. 6. Volitional Pessimism. — Let us now turn to that form of pessimism wliich regards the whole world as morally bad, and therefore longs to be delivered from it. Men are knaves, or fools, or both. The end and aim of the average man's exist- ence is to keep himself alive, and he will do any- thing to realize this purpose. He is a cruel, unjust, and cowardly egoist, whom vanity makes sociable, fear honest. And the only way to succeed in this world is to be tricky and dishonest like the rest. Shakespeare gives poetical expression to this moral- istic pessimism, as Paulsen calls it, in one of his best sonnets : — "Tired with all these, for restful death I cry — As, to behold desert a beggar born, And needy nothing trimm'd in jollity, And purest faith unhappily forsworn, And gilded honor shamefully misplaced, And maiden virtue rudely strumpeted, And right perfection wrongfully disgraced, And strength by limping sway disabled. And art made tongue-tied by authority, And folly, doctor-like, controlling skill. And simple truth miscalled simplicity, And captive Good attending Captain 111." And the broken-hearted King Lear thus moralizes upon the injustice of the world : — " Through tattered clothes small vices do appear, Robes and furred gowns hide all. Plate sin with gold, 304 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS And the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks ; Arm it in rags, the pigmy's sword doth pierce it." The good are not appreciated, — indeed, they are persecuted by the malicious, envious common herd, who hate virtue because it makes their insignificance and meanness all the more contemptible. Now is the world really as black as all that? There is undoubtedly much truth in what the accusers of mankind say ; but is humanity so abso- lutely rotten as they rhetorically declaim? How can it be proved? Either inductively, that is, by appealing to the facts ; or deductively, by showing that man is bound to be bad by the very nature of things. (1) Are there more bad men in the world than good ones ? Before we can undertake to answer this question, we must have some criterion by which to measure the moral value of men and times. How must they act in order to be called good? What standard shall we apply to them. Much depends upon the answer given to this question. If you regard as the standard of morality perfect knowl- edge, or perfect holiness, or perfect anything, the verdict must turn out against the human race. If you demand an absolute suppression of egoistic feel- ings, the verdict will be unfavorable. If you demand that man absolutely negate his will, that he seek only the pleasures arising from artistic or reli- gious or scientific contemplation, or that he think of nothing but heaven all the time, that he live in rags OPTIMISM VERSUS PESSIMISM 305 in order that others may be clad in purple, then, of course, this world will seem mean and wretched to you. But if you measure humanity by a more human standard, by an ideal to which the race can aspire, the case is not so hopeless. Let us call such acts good as tend to make for physical and spiritual, individual and social, upliftment ; let us call those men good who aim to realize this ideal, who care for themselves and others, who are struggling for their own and others' advancement. Now if this be our measuring-rod, is humankind so dreadfully wicked? Are men as grossly egoistic as the pessimist would have us believe ? Are they as cruel, vindictive, dis- honest, unjust, treacherous, false, envious, malicious, as their accuser paints them ? Well, here again, we must say we have not counted the good and the bad ; we have no statistics on the point. It is true, there are evil-minded and evil- doing persons in the world, and we cannot shut our eyes to the fact that we are far from being perfect. There are many wrongs to which we may point. It is true, there is much corruption in politics. The people are often led around by the noses by adroit rascals who are seeking their own personal gain at the expense of the community and in the name of patriotism, that much-abused word. Parties are too frequently willing to damage the country which they are pretending to serve, merely for the sake of injur- ing the opposing party, which is supposed to bear the entire responsibility. The influential boss can 306 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS often control legislation, as can the millionaire and the rich corporation. " Plate sin with gold, and the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks." And good men meet with defeat in the struggle for existence, or, at any rate, are regarded by the world as failures, as unpractical dreamers, whom nobody minds, while incense is burned at the altars of unscrupulous vil- lains, charlatans, and fools whose purses are as fat as their hearts are empty. But is that the whole story ? Are there not many good men in the world? Are there not many who are fighting on the side of truth and justice, many who are willing to sacrifice themselves for their fel- lows? Is it really true that dishonesty and trickery are the conditions of success, that a man cannot thrive unless he be a knave? It seems, the very fact that we pay so much attention to the successful ras- cals shows that we are surprised at their success, that it is unusual for thieves and liars to win the battle of life. If it were the rule the world over for false- hood and sham to lead to health and wealth, should we be so shocked and chagrined thereby? The moral heroes and the moral villains stand out in bold relief as the observed of all observers, while the great mass of men who are neither angels nor devils pass by unnoticed. (2) Nor can we prove that the world and its inhab- itants must of necessity be bad. Is man an original sinner? Is sin hereditary with him, as Saint Augus- tine and Schopenhauer and many others would hold? OPTIMISM VERSUS PESSIMISM 307 According to Schopenhauer man is a crass egoist by nature, and egoism is bad, hence no good can come out of him. But man is not a crass egoist. Scho- penhauer himself believes that we can free ourselves from our wicked wills, that we can negate the will, suppress our egoistic strivings, and lose ourselves in the contemplation of the objects of art, science, and religion ; hence we cannot be so bad after all. And ihose who believe in the total depravity of man are likewise optimistic enough to believe that there is some way out of the difficulty, either through Christ or the groundless grace of God, so unwilling are they to concede the necessary loss of a single human soul. It is much easier to show on a priori grounds that man is not radically bad than the opposite. Man is both egoistic and altruistic; he acts for his own good and that of others. Humanity could not exist and realize the ideals which have been realized if men were absolutely bad. The fact of their living together at all proves that obedience to the laws of morality is the rule and not the exception. If men were as immoral as the pessimist paints them, society would go to pieces. The fact that it takes unusually adroit men to succeed in spite of their dishonesty shows how hard it is to break the moral law and thrive. "The wages of sin is death." This is as profound a truth as was ever uttered. But even if it were true, even if the world were a hotb.ed of corruption, why should we despair ? Why 308 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS should we not make ourselves and the world better ? Let us strive to improve it, and not sit idly by, weep- ing and moaning over its wickedness. Let us strike at wrong wherever it shows its head, let us enroll ourselves in the ranks of virtue and tight the great battle of the right against the wrong. The best way to grow strong in righteousness is to combat evil. And we can make no better beginning than by first improving ourselves. " Thou hypocrite, cast out first the beam out of thine own eye, and then shalt thou see clearly to pull out the mote that is in thy brother's eye." (3) The attempt is also made to prove pessimism genetically by comparing the present with the past. Just as sorrow is increasing, vice is increasing ; men are growing worse and worse ; the times are out of joint. The world is degenerating. There was a time, says Rousseau, when things were better. In his primitive days, man lived peacefully, virtuously, and happily, but with the progress of civilization and culture all this has been changed. We are growing away from the sweet simplicity of the past, and our demands on life and the values we put upon things are changing. Social inequalities are multi- plying, carrying in their train all the vices of an artificial mode of existence. We esteem knowledge, not for itself, but simply as we value diamonds and precious jewels, because it gives to its possessors something not enjoyed by others. Wealth and cul- ture are the badges of classes, and valued merely as OPTIMISM VERSUS PESSIMISM 309 \ such. The rich and cultured are becoming more lordly, haughty, supercilious, and unsympathetic, while the poor and ignorant are made more servile, cowardly, deceitful, and base by the artificial condi- tions of the times. It is, however, not true that the world is getting worse, that the original state was a blissful moral state. This conception of a better past is common to many religions and peoples. The Greeks believed in a golden age, the Jews in Paradise. It is charac- teristic of old age to live in and glorify the past, largely perhaps because it is past. The evils of the present are distinctly before us ; the evils of the past we are apt to forget, and to think only of its bright sides. Besides, old age has formed its habits, the habits of the past, and we all know how hard it is to accept new ways of thinking, feeling, and willing. You can't teach an old dog new tricks, as the saying is. The old man often feels out of place in the world with its new habits, and so comes to regard everything in it as wrong. He makes the same objections to the present which his parents made to his past, which was their present. But is the present really worse than the past? Here again everything depends upon our conception of the better and the worse. If you do not believe in the progress of political and religious freedom, you will condemn the present. If you hate the rabble so called, and find that the plain man of the people is playing a greater role in the world than you are 310 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS willing he should play, you will find fault with the times. If you regard civilization with its culture and luxury as an absolute evil, you will hate the present. If you believe that men ought to live the lives of mediaeval ascetics, that they should despise literature, science, and art, then you cannot contem- plate our age with pleasure. But if you believe with me -that the ideal of man- kind is to develop the physical and spiritual powers of the race in harmony with each other and in adap- tation to the surroundings, to make men more rational and sympathetic, to give them control over them- selves and nature, to bring the blessings of civilization within the reach of the humblest and most neglected, then you will have to admit that our times are better than the past. If civilization is better than sav- agery, then the present is better than the past. If a wider and deeper sympathy with living beings, jus- tice, and truth, are better than hatred, cruelty, preju- dice, and injustice, then civilization is better than savagery. The good old times solved their problems in their way; let us solve ours in our way. Let us be thankful that the past is gone, and look with hope to a brighter and better future.^ 1 See the excellent chapter on "The Moral Progress of the Race," in Williams, Beview of Evolutional Ethics^ pp. 466 fE. ^ CHAPTER XI CHARACTER AND FREEDOM i 1. Virtues and Vices. — We have found that such acts are right as tend to promote welfare, and that such are wrong as tend to do the reverse. We have also found that acts are the outward expressions of inner psychical states, that they are prompted by something on the inner side. Among these inner states we mentioned the so-called egoistic and altru- istic impulses and feelings, and the so-called moral sentiments. Morality, therefore, or moral conduct, springs from the human heart; it represents the will of humanity. Moral conduct, like all conduct, is the outward expression of the human will. Men act morally or for the welfare of themselves and others because they desire or will that welfare. 1 Green, Prolegomena, Bk. T, chap, iii, Bk. II, chap, i ; Stephen, The Science of Ethics, pp. 264-294 ; Miinsterberg, Die Willens- handlung; Fouill^e, La liherte et dHerminisme ; Sigwart, Der Begriff des Wolle7is und sein Verhdltniss zum Begriff der Cau- saVtllt; Wundt, Ethics, Part III, chap, i, 1, 2, 3 ; Paulsen, Ethics, Bk. ir, chap, ix ; Thilly, " The Freedom of the Will," Philosophical Beview, Vol. III. pp. 385-411; Hy.slop, Elements, chaps, iv, v; Mackenzie, Manual, chap, viii ; Seth, Ethical Principles, Part III, chap. i. For history of the freewill question, see Penzig, Arthur Srhnpenhaiier und die menschliche Willensfreiheit ; A. Alexander, Theories of the Will. 311 312 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS Humanity as a whole desires its own preservation and advancement, and therefore performs acts which tend to realize the desired end. We call such acts as tend to promote welfare vir- tuous ^ their opposites vicious. We cajl the will that tends to express itself in virtuous acts a good or virtu- ous will, its opposite vicious. Acts which ought to be done we call duties^ persons who do them dutiful. Morality is based upon impulses. Because men desire the preservation of themselves and others they are moral. But — and this is an important point — an impulse as such is not necessarily a vir- tue, though it may be fashioned into one. The im- pulse to preserve your life is not necessarily a virtue. Your desire to preserve yourself may be so irra- tional as to destroy you. Your desire for food may be so strong as to cause your ruin. Nor is the sym- pathetic impulse necessarily a virtue. Your sympa- thy for a person may be so irrational as to injure both you and the person for whom you feel it. Virtues are rational impulses, i.e.^ impulses or volitions fashioned in such a manner as to realize moral ends. They are impulses guided by reason,^ controlled by ideas. Impulses are formed or fash- ioned or educated by experience with natural and social surroundings. Exaggerated impulses are cor- rected and weak ones strengthened. Impulses may also be reenforced or defeated by the aid of the moral sentiments or the conscience. An extreme egoistic impulse may be held in check by the feeling of obli- CHARACTER AND FREEDOM 313 gation ; and a weak altruistic impulse intensified in the same way. A person who is exceedingly selfish may be kept within proper bounds by his conscience, by the feeling that he ought not to indulge his desire to advance himself at the expense of others ; while an individual lacking altruism may be urged by his conscience to care for others. Or the feeling of obligation may influence a man who cares little for self-advancement to preserve and develop his life, and cause one who is too altruistically inclined to modify his altruism. ^ 2. Character. — Impulses are fashioned into fixed habits of action, which cannot easily be changed, and a character is formed. " A character," as J. S. Mill says, "is a completely fashioned will," and by will here is meant " an aggregate of tendencies to act in a firm and prompt and definite way upon the princi- pal emergencies of life."^ We may, therefore, say that a character is the (Combined product of one's natural tendencies or impulses, and the environment acting upon them. In other words, a man's char- acter depends upon his will or nature or disposition, and the influences exerted upon it by the outside world of living and lifeless things. This implies : (1) that the individual starts out with a certain stock in trade, certain impulses or tendencies, or, to state it physiologically, a peculiarly constituted brain and nervous system ; (2) that these tendencies or 1 See Paulsen, Ethics, Bk. Ill, chap. i. 2 See James, Psychology^ Vol. I, chap. iv. 314 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS impulses, this brain and nervous system, may be influenced and modified, hence that a person may be educated into morality ; (8) that what a man will be, must depend, to some extent, upon what he is, that is, upon his native disposition. A man may have been endowed by nature with bountiful intellectual and physical gifts, but the absence of favorable conditions or the presence of unfavorable ones may hinder these capacities from being realized. A person who might have become an athlete, had he been born in a certain climate and had he received the proper training, may turn out to be physically deficient. So, too, a man who might have become a great artist may find his natural powers weakening from lack of exercise. In order, then, to form a moral character, we need a natural capacity for goodness, so to speak, and favorable life conditions. We have just seen that the absence of the latter is bound to show its effects. But the former also, the native endowment, is needed. A man with a dwarfed brain can never become an intellectual prodigy. But there are many gradations from a diseased brain and organism to a perfectly healthy and well-developed system, and consequently many gradations in physical excellence. Some persons seem to be utterly devoid of moral impulses, and consequently bound to turn out bad. Some criminals are criminals by nature. They are what has been called by alienists morally insane. Such individuals are usually without the impulses CHARACTER AND FREEDOM 315 upon which morality is based. '' ]\Iodern reforma- tories have testified to the possibility of the redemp- tion of a large number of criminals from their evil life, but they have shown, nevertheless, that there is a lust of cupidity, a love of meanness, and an animal- ity from which rescue is almost if not quite impossi- ble. The reaction of men whose past opportunities have been about equal, upon effort for their reform, exhibits also very different degrees of readiness. The testimony of reformatories for the young is especially of worth on this point ; and I once heard Mrs. Mary Livermore describe the faces of many of the children to be found in a certain institution of tjiis sort as bearing fearful witness to the fact that they had been ' mortgaged to the devil before they were born.' I remember a number of cases cited by the matron of a certain orphan asylum, showing that children taken from their home at too early an age to have learned the sins of their parents by imitation may yet repeat those sins. Out of three children of the same parents, the one of whom was a drunkard and prostitute, the other a thief, one developed, at a very early age, a tendency to dishonesty, another an extreme morbid eroticism, and the third child ap- peared to have escaped the evil inheritance ; but he was still very young when I last heard of him."^ "Whoever is destitute of moral feeling is, to that extent, a defective being ; he marks the beginning of race-degeneracy ; and if propitious influence do 1 Williams, Evolutional Ethics, Part II, pp. 405 f. 316 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS not cliance to check or to neutralize the morbid tendency, his children will exhibit a further degree of degeneracy, and be actual morbid varieties. Whether the particular outcome of the morbid strain shall be vice, or madness, or crime, will depend much on the circumstances of life." " When we make a scientific study of the fundamental meaning of those deviations from the sound type which issue in insan- ity and crime, by searching inquiry into the laws of their genesis, it appears that these forms of human degeneracy do not lie so far asunder as they are com- monly supposed to do. Moreover, theory is here confirmed by observation; for it has been pointed out by those who have made criminals their study that they oftentimes spring from families in which insanity, epilepsy, or some allied neurosis exists, that many of them are weak-minded, epileptic, or actu- ally insane, and that they are apt to die from dis- eases of the nervous system and from tubercular diseases." 1 3. The Freedom of the Will — The preceding statements naturally suggest the problem of the free- dom of the will, which we shall now consider. Is the will free or is it determined? Before we can answer this question we must understand the terms involved in our discussion. 1 Maudsley, Pathology of Mind, pp. 102 ff., quoted by Williams, loc. cit. See also Lombroso, Vhomme criminel; Krafft-Ebing, Psychiatrie, Vol. II, p. 65 ; Strlimpell, Pedagogische Pathologie ; Williams, Evolutional Ethics, pp. 402 ff.; Paulsen, Ethics, pp. 373 ff., 476 fE. CHARACTER AND FREEDOM 317 Let us see. By the will we may mean the atti- tude of the ego toward its ideas, i.e., the element of decision, the fiat or veto, will in the narrow sense of the term.i Or by will we may mean the so-called impulsiveness of consciousness, that is, the tendency of consciousness to act, the so-called self-determina- tion of the soul.2 Thus in attention there is psychic energy. Whether I pay attention to a loud noise or force my attention upon my lesson, I am always put- ting forth mental energy, I am willing in the broader sense of the term. This psychic energy or conation is present in all states of consciousness ; every state of consciousness is impulsive or energetic. By freedom we may mean unhindered by an exter- nal force. A nation or individual is free when not hindered by a,n outer force ; I am free when I can do what I please, that is, when my acts are the expression of my consciousness, the outflow of my own will, not the expression of some consciousness outside of mine. This is what the average man means by freedom when he applies the term to human beings. Man is free to do what he pleases, means that he is not hindered in his willing. In this sense there can be no doubt of the possibility of man's freedom. I am free to get up or sit down, free to teach or not to teach, as I please. If I will to get up, I can get up ; if I will to sit down I am free to do that. 1 See chap, viii, § 3 (4). 2 See chap, viii, § 3 (4), p. 215, note 2. 318 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS But by freedom I may mean something else. I may mean by free something uncaused, undeter- mined, having no necessary antecedents, self-caused, cau%a sui, an uncaused cause. God, we say, is un- caused, not caused by something outside of Himself, causa sui. If we apply this last conception to the will in the narrow sense of the term, free will means: The will is uncaused, undetermined by antecedents. I will that A be done instead of B, I give my con- sent, or assent, to A without being determined thereto by anything outside of me or inside of me. I, as will, decide for or against an act absolutely, without being influenced to do so. Not only, then, can I (fo as I please, but I can please as I please. If we employ the term will in the broader sense, and accept the second interpretation of freedom, free will means : The energy of the soul, the activity or impulsiveness of consciousness, is an uncaused or indeterminate factor, dependent upon nothing. We can put forth any amount of effort of attention or psychic force at any time. The amount of effort put forth depends upon no antece- dents whatever ; it is not determined by anything ; it is free or indeterminate.^ In short, the libertarian view holds that the will, in whatever sense we take it, is not subject to the iSee James, Psychology, Vol. II, chap, xxvi ; also "The Di- lemma of Determinism," in The Will to Believe; Ladd, Psychology, Descriptive and Explanatory, chap. xxvi. CHARACTER AND FREEDOM 319 law of causality; it is a cause without being an effect. Freedom here means, as Kant and Scho- penhauer put it, the faculty of beginning a causal series. A man is free when he has the power to begin a causal series without being in any way determined thereto. Psychical activity is free when it acts without cause, when it depends upon no ante- cedent event. I will to perfc rm a certain act ; noth- ing has determined me to will as I did ; under the same conditions I could liave willed otherwise. However this view may be modified, freedom essen- tially means a causeless will. The deterministic view opposes this conception, and holds that there is no such thing as an uncaused process, either in the pliysical or psychical sphere ; that every phenomenon or occurrence, be it a move- ment or a thought, a feeling or an act of will, is caused, not an independent factor, but dependent upon something else. ^ 4. Determinism, — Which of these two views is correct? Is the will caused or uncaused? Let us see. By a cause we mean the antecedent or con- comitant, or the group of antecedents and concomi- tants, without which the phenomenon cannot appear. The scientist explains things by revealing their invariable antecedents or causes, by showing that things act uniformly under the same conditions. It is a postulate of science tliat all phenomena in the universe are subject to law in the sense that they are caused, that there is a reason for their 820 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS being and acting so and not otherwise. Now can we apply the same formula to human willing, or, let us say, making the statement as broad as possible, to the human mind as a whole? Has the human mind any such antecedents or concomitants, or is it independent of them ? Is there any reason why the mind should think, feel, and will as it does ? Is it dependent upon anything for thinking, feeling, and willing in this way ? Science will naturally answer the question in the affirmative. Its ideal is to explain the world, and explanation is impossible unless things happen according to law, unless there is uniformity in action. Even where we are unable to find the invariable antecedents or causes, we imagine them to be present, though we may regard their discovery as practically impossible. Now the scientific investigation of mind seems to show uniformity of action. Under the same circumstances the same states occur; the same an- tecedents seem to be followed by the same conse- quents. In the first place, we may say that in order to have human consciousness we must be born with human minds, with human capacities for sensation, ideation, feeling, and willing. Physiologically speak- ing, we must have a human brain, human sense- organs, a human body. In a certain sense, all human beings are alike dependent upon the nature of the consciousness which they inherit from the race. What a being is going to think, feel, and CHARACTER AND FREEDOM 321 will in this world depends, to some extent, upon the mental and physical stock in trade with which he begins life. Not only, however, does man inherit the general characteristics of the race; he also inherits specific qualities from his ancestors. Just as a man may inherit a weak or a vigorous brain and more or less perfect sense-organs, so he may receive from his nation or his ancestors a capacity for thinking, feel- ing, and willing in a particular way. In short, if we embrace all mental tendencies or capacities or func- tions under one term, character^ we may say that every individual has a character of his own, and that this character is dependent upon the entire past. As Tyndall says : " It is generally admitted that the man of to-day is the child and product of incalcu- lable antecedent times. His physical and intellectual textures have been woven for him during his passage through phases of history and forms of existence which lead the mind back to an abysmal past."^ We may say that the way in which the world affects an individual must depend largely upon his character. Physiologically stated, the impression made by an external stimulus upon a human brain will depend largely upon the nature of the entire organism affected, which does not merely receive excitations, but transforms them according to its nature. This character, this brain, is the heir of all the ages, an epitome of the past. It is what it 1 " Science and Man," Fortnightly Review^ 1877, p. 594. 322 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS \ l! is because many other things have been what they were. In this sense we may say that it is deter- mined. I have a human body and not an animal's, because I am the child of human parents ; I have a particular human body because I am the child of a particular race, of a particular nation, a particular family. Similarly I may say that I have a human mind, a human will, a particular human mind and a particular will, because I am the child of a particular race, nation, age, and family. The mind, then, is, in a certain sense, determined by the past. But it is likewise determined by the present. Just as a seed needs certain favorable conditions in order to grow and thrive, a character needs an environment suitable to its development. To express it pliysiologically, a brain needs stimuli in order that it may act out its nature. It will develop from immaturity to maturity only under the proper conditions. Just as a man must exercise his muscles properly in order to develop them, he must exercise his mental powers in order to develop them. As was said before, we must give due w^eight to both the inside and the outside, the character and its physical and social environment. The brain requires stimulation in order to act at all ; it will not develop without being incited to action from without. But it is not merely a puppet in the hands of the ex- ternal world ; it does not merely receive^ but gives ; it strikes back. That is, it reacts upon stimuli according to its own nature. Similarly, the mind is CHARACTER AND FREEDOM 323 not merely a passive thing, but an active thing; character is not merely a creature, but a creator. The manner in which a person will think, feel, and act will depend not merely upon the outward cir- cumstances, but upon the inner. Stating the matter psychologically and applying it to the subject of the will, we may say : Whether an idea or feeling is to have motive power or not, depends altogether upon the character of the individual, which has been formed by a multitude of influences and conditions. Scientific psychology, then, is deterministic in the sense of claiming that states of consciousness, like other facts in the universe, have their invariable antecedents, concomitants, and consequents. Men- tal phenomena are inserted into the general system of things like all other phenomena. They are not isolated and independent processes without connec- tion with the rest of the world, but parts of an interrelated whole. 6. Theological Theories. — Now that we have con- sidered the psychological answer to the question of free will and determinism, let us briefly examine the attitude of theology and metaphysics toward the problem. Theology is either deterministic or liber- tarian, according to the conceptions from which it starts out. The great thesis of Christian theology has always been that Christ came to save man from sin. Now, reasoned Augustine, if Christ came to save man from sin, then evidently man was not able to save himself, he was unable not to sin; he was 324 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS determined to sin, and hence not free.i This is the doctrine of original sin. Other theologians make the same thesis their starting-point, and reach a different conclusion. If Christ saved man from sin, then evidently man was a sinner. But man cannot be a sinner unless he has the power of freedom to sin or not to sin, for sin implies freedom. Hence, if sin is to mean anything, man must be free.^ Or, the theologian may make the conception of God his starting-point, and reach either freedom or determinism. God is all-powerful, say some, and man wholly dependent upon Him. If man were free, then God could not determine him one way or the other, man would represent an independent entity in God's universe ; which would rob God of some of His power. No, say others, God is all-good, hence He cannot have determined man to sin. If man were determined by God to sin, then God would not be an all-good God ; He would be responsible for the evil in the world. But as He is not responsible for the evil, this must be the result of man's choice. Hence, man is not determined, but free. 6. MeMphysical Theories. — Metaphysics, too, may be either deterministic or indeterministic. Material- ism assumes that matter is the essence or principle of reality, that everything in the world is matter in motion, and that nothing can happen without cause. If these premises are true, then of course mind is ^ See also Luther and Calvin. * See Pelagius and the Jesuits. CHARACTER AND FREEDOM 325 the effect of motion, or only a different form of motion, and is governed or determined by the laws of matter. According to spiritualism or idealism, mind is the principle of reality, and everything is a manifestation of mind. According to monistic spiritualism, there is one fundamental mind or intelligence in the universe, of which all individual intelligences or minds are the manifestation. Kant calls this principle the intelligible or noumenal world, the thing-in-itself or freedom; Fichte calls it the practical ego; Hegel calls it the universal reason ; Schopenhauer calls it the will. The principle itself is regarded as free, uncaused, self-caused, or self-originative. But if man's mind is a manifestation of this principle, then man's mind depends upon it, cannot be without it, must act in accordance with its nature, is determined by it. Kant and Schopenhaher both hold that man's empirical character, that is, his phenomenal character, his character as we know it, is determined by the intelligible character, the noumenal character, the principle of which it is the manifestation. ^ According to pluralistic or individualistic spirit- ualism, there are many minds or principles. Duns Scotus, the schoolman, regards every human being as an individualistic principle, absolutely free to choose and to act, not bound to choose or act in any particular way. If this standpoint is strictly adhered to, — and it is the only possible standpoint for those 1 See also Green, op. cit. 326 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS who accept the freedom of indifference, — then each individual is practically a creator. Leibniz, too, is a pluralist, but his pluralism differs somewhat from the pluralism of Duns Scotus. The world consists of monads or metaphysical points, or spiritual sub- stances, each one of which is free in the sense of not being determined from without, that is, by any power outside of itself. Each spirit is, as Leibniz puts it, "a little divinity in its own department." But since whatever happens in the monad happens in accordance with its own nature, the monad is really determined by its own nature. I must think, feel, and act as I do because it is my nature or character so to think, feel, and act. If we reject both spiritualism and materialism, and regard mental and physical processes as two sides of an underlying principle which is neither mind nor matter, but the cause of both, then both mind and matter are determined by this principle, and are not free. The principle itself, however, may be free or uncaused or self-originating. / According to dualism we have two principles, mind and matter, each one differing in essence from the other. Each person is a corporeal and spiritual substance. Dualism may be either deterministic or indeterministic, according as it is claimed that the mental realm is governed by law or not. Some thinkers have reasoned that, since mind and matter go together or run parallel with each other, and since matter is governed by law, mind must be governed CHARACTER AND FREEDOM 327 by law. Others have denied this assumption and have insisted that mind at least, or the human will, is free and uncaused.^ 7. Reconciliation of Freedom and Determinism. Now what shall be our conclusion on this point ? In a certain sense we may accept a kind of freedom. All systems assume that the principle of being, whether it be matter or mind, or both, or neither, has neitlier beginning nor end, has nothing outside of itself upon which it depends, and that it is therefore uncaused or unexplainable. We must also maintain that the principle is determined in the sense that it shows uniformity of action, or is governed by law. This does not mean, however, that it is forced or compelled or coerced or pushed into action, but that it acts with regularity and uniformity. 2 Even the atom of materialism is free in the sense of not being coerced by anything outside of itself ; it is deter- mined in that it does not act capriciously and con- trary to law, but uniformly and lawfully. And the human mind or will may be said to possess similar characteristics. The will is determined in the sense that it has uniform antecedents, that it does not act capriciously and without reason, but according to law. The will is free in the sense that it is not coerced by anything outside of itself. "If the nature of causality," as Paulsen aptly says, "consisted of ^ For example, Descartes. 2 See Paulsen, Introduction to Philosophy^ English translation, pp. 318 ff. 328 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS an external necessity which excludes inner necessity, they would be right who rebel against its application to the mental sphere. Only in that case they ought to go a step farther and maintain that the causal law is invalid not only for the will, but for the entire soul-life. Bat if we define the notion of causality correctly, if we mean by it what Hume and Leibniz meant by it, that is, the regular harmony between the changes of many elements, then it is plain that it prevails in the mental world no less than in nature. It may be more difficult to detect uniformity in the former case or to reduce it to elementary laws than in the latter. Still it is evident that such uniformity exists. Isolated or lawless elements exist in neither sphere ; each element is definitely related to antece- dent, simultaneous, and succeeding elements. We can hardly reduce these relations to mathematical formulae anywhere ; but their existence is perfectly plain everywhere. Everybody tacitly assumes that under wholly identical inner and outer circumstances the same will invariably ensue ; the same idea, the same emotion, and the same volition will follow the same stimulus. Freedom by no means conflicts with causality properly understood ; freedom is not exemption from law. Surely ethics has no interest in a freedom of inner life that is equivalent to law- lessness and incoherency. On the contrary, the occur- rence of absolutely disconnected elements, isolated volitions standing in no causal connection with the past and future, would mean derangement of the CHARACTER AND FREEDOM 329 will, nay, the complete destruction of psychical exist- ence. If there were no determination whatever of the consequent by the antecedent, then, of course, there could be no such thing as exercise and experi- ence, there could be no efficacy in principles and resolutions, in education and public institutions." ^ 8. Criticism of Indeterminism. — But we cannot maintain that the will is free in the Scotian sense. ^ (1) Wherever in the world we have a phenom- enon we seek for its cause in some antecedent phe- nomenon or sum of phenomena. If we acknowledge the application of the causal law to the events of physical nature, and deny its validity in the men- tal sphere, we present an exception to the uniformity of nature. And as Bain says: "Where there is no uniformity, there is clearly no rational guidance, no prudential foresiglit." Every act, be it ever so insignificant, has its antecedent cause. I can sit down or get up as I please, but whether I please or not depends upon conditions which may be apparent or concealed. James holds in his article on "The Dilemma of Determinism " '' that the world would be no less rational if actions like the bending into one street rather than into another were left to absolute volition. However, such a slight deviation from the law would be, as far as the principle is con- 1 Paulsen, Introduction to Philosophy, p. 221. See also his Ethics, p. 460 note. 2 See § 6. Parts of what follows are taken from my article in the Philosophical Bevieio, referred to on page 311 note. 3 27te Will to Believe. 330 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS cerned, as great a miracle as tliough the planet Ju- piter should sway from its path. It would make the entire universe irrational. In the words of Riehl : " However infinitely small the difference between such a world and tlie real one might appear to the fancy, for the understanding an infinitely small deviation from the law of determination of occur- rences, from the general law of causality, would still remain an infinitely great miracle. There would arise out of the ability to perform apparently insig- nificant acts with absolute freedom, the ability to pervert the entire order of nature in continually increasing extents. The consequences of a single element of irrationality, an exception to the law of causation, could not but make the whole of nature irrational, just as a very little amount of ferment is able to produce fermentation in an entire organic mass. Nature could not exist alongside of an unde- termined power of freedom." 1 (2) In order to escape these difficulties many devices are resorted to. We must think in terms of causality ; true. But, nevertheless, the will is free. In order to make these two contradictions agree, causality is simply interpreted to mean freedom or non-causality. In other words, a special theory of causality is often manufactured to meet the require- ments of the libertarian doctrine. Dr. Ward^ is guilty of such a fabricated scheme of harmonizing 1 Riehl, Kriticismus, Vol. II, Part II, p. 243. 2 Dublin Beview, July, 1874. CHARACTER AND FREEDOM 331 opposites. He will not grant that " free " and " un- caused" are synonyms. There are two kinds of cau- sation ; in the one case it means a law of uniform phenomenal sequence. By this kind of causation the physical world is ruled, the important exception being miracles. But there is also such a thing as originative causation. An intelligent substance, for example, acts as an originative cause. Such a sub- stance is the human soul. Dr. Ward bases his in- terpretation of the causal law on the hypothesis of freedom, which is the very thing to be proved. You say, he exclaims, there is no such a thing as an origi- native cause ? Look at the human will. You have anti-impulsive will-acts due to the soul's power of absolute choice. You say, he continues, that free will violates the causal principle ? Not at all, for what does causation signify but originative cause ? — It is evident we have here an excellent example of the cireulus vitiosus. Martineau ^ may be accused of the same vicious reasoning. The will, he says, is a cause, i.e.^ " it is something which terminates the balance of possibili- ties in favor of this phenomenon rather than that." This notion he applies to the universe, then back again to the will. He wants to show that the idea of causality applied does not make for determinism, but for freedom ; he begins by assuming that cau- sality equals freedom. His false reasoning is very apparent. Determinists say, according to him, 1 Study of Religion, Vol. II, Bk. Ill, pp. 196-324. 332 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS every action must have a cause, the will must be controlled by motives, for nothing can be without a cause. The will cannot be free because of this causal principle. Yes, answers Martineau, if cau- sality means that different effects must have differ- ent causes, then the will is not free. But it is not true that different effects must have different causes. The will is not determined, because differ- ent effects need not have different causes. They need not have different causes, because in the will we have an example of a cause wliich has the power to determine an alternative, z.g., a free cause. This amounts to saying. The will is free because it is free. (3) We observe, then, that a free will in this sense is wholly inconceivable ; it violates the law of causality. The psychological investigation has already shown that it contradicts the facts. We must now also insist that, if the will i% free, it is utterly useless to attempt to determine it. And yet everybody acts on the conviction that this may be done. If nothing can determine it, what is the use of education, of laws, of arguments, of entreaties, of moral suasion, of punishment, and all those means employed to determine conduct ? How can an utterly groundless willing be in any way held re- sponsible ? The voluntary activity has been initi- ated without being caused. Hence nothing can be done to affect it. Like a deu% ex machina^ the free will enters upon the scene of action, and in the same CHARACTER AND FREEDOM 383 mysterious manner disappears. How can it be ap- proached, this guilty party ? Why offer it motives if these have no influence ? Besides, if the will does not come under the causal law, why speak of its de- velopment during the various periods of race and individual life? If it cannot be determined, how explain the influences of disease and stimulants on it? Why should it ever degenerate? What be- comes of it in sleep ? Where is it in the hypnotized state ? What would morality be to a person absolutely free ? " Indeterminism," says Riehl, " would sub- ject our moral life to contingency." The free will cannot be impelled by reason to act ; it can in no way be determined to adopt the more reasonable course, but acts groundlessly. Nor can conscience be of avail, nor remorse, nor any other ethical feel- ing. A person acting without cause would be utterly unreliable ; in fact, the ideal free man's actions w^ould resemble those of the lunatic. To desire such freedom would, indeed, as Leibniz exclaims, be to desire to be a fool. Or, in Schel- ling's words: "To be able to decide for A and non- A without any motives Avhatsoever, would, in truth, simply be a prerogative to act in an altogether irra- tional manner." I also fail to see in what respect the cause of liber- tarianism is helped by granting that the will cannot act without motives, but that it is, in some cases, able to choose one motive to the exclusion of the 334 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS Other, and tiuit, too, without cause. The same fal- lacy obtains in the reasoning, whether you extend or limit this faculty of the will to begin a new causal series. Wlien Martineau asserts the will to be a cause '' which terminates the balance of possibilities in favor of this phenomenon rather than that," he maintains absolute freedom of volition, and lays him- self open to all the objections urged above. 9. The Con8cious7ies8 of Freedom. — There are, it is said, certain facts which make for free will. " I hold, therefore," says Sidgwick, ^'that against the formidable array of cumulative evidence offered for Determinism, there is but one argument of real force ; the immediate affirmation of consciousness in the moment of deliberate action." ^ (1) Now, if it were really true that we have a consciousness of being free in the sense in which this term has been used, this feeling would have as little weight as a scientific proof as the feeling that the sun moves around the earth has for astronomy. Where a man accepts this " immediate intuition of the soul's freedom " as a proof of its actuality, he is simply asserting that his soul is free because he feels it to be free. 2 (2) And even granting that such a feeling can prove anything, must we not show («) that it exists, and (h) what it tells us? Libertarians claim that men are conscious of being free, and see herein a proof of their thesis. But the all-important ques- 1 Methods of Ethics, p. 67. 2 Dr. Ward. CHARACTER AND FREEDOM 335 tion is, whether men really say and believe them- selves to be free in the sense in which these philoso- phers claim that they are free. The libertarian is apt to throw into this consciousness of freedom his entire doctrine, thereby garbling the facts to suit his theory. It is necessary, therefore, to analyze this conscious- ness of freedom. Before the volition takes place there may be present in consciousness a feeling that I can do either this or that. In the moment of will- ing no such feeling exists, while after the act has been willed and executed I say to myself, I might have done otherwise. Now all the possibilities of action occur to me, my mind is in a different state, certain ideas and feelings that formerly exerted an irresistible influence are no longer present, or only dimly remembered. All the conditions being changed, I feel as though I could have acted differ- ently. And so I could have done, if only I had willed differently, and so I could have willed differ- ently, if only the conditions of willing had been different. I can do what I will to do ; I am free to get up or sit down, free to go home or stay here, to give up all my prospects in life, if only I will to do so. Never does my consciousness tell me that a voli- tion is uncaused, that there was no reason for my willing as I did will, that the will is the absolute beginning of an occurrence, that at any moment any volition may arise regardless of all antecedent pro- cesses. Least of all does it tell me that I am the 336 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS CHARACTER AND FREEDOM 837 manifestation of an intelligible self which I feel to be free. Against those who so strongly emphasize the sense of freedom, we may urge the deterministic standpoint generally accepted in all the affairs of life. We regard the actions of men as necessary functions of their character. In all historical sci- ences, we invariably seek for the causes of events; we analyze the characters of the actors, and show the influences of their times and surroundings. Our entire social life is based on the conviction that under certain conditions men will act in a certain way. That this is so, let the methods of educa- tion and government attest. 10. Respofisihility, — The feeling of responsibility is also urged against determinism, and accepted as a proof of liberty. This, however, proves nothing but that acts and motives depend upon character or flow from the will of the agent. The person regards every voluntary action of his as the expression of his personality, which, in truth, it is. The act is his, willed by him and acknowledged by him, the prod- uct of his own character. He does not regard his character as something outside of himself, as some- thing forcing him in a certain direction, pushing him now hither, now thither, but identifies himself with it. In fact, he is his character, and therefore holds himself responsible for his acts and motives. And because he feels himself as an agent, the acts as his acts, he sees no reason why this self from* which the acts emanated should not be held responsible. Who else should be held responsible but the willing personality ? But if character is the necessary product of con- ditions, why hold any one responsible, even though he feel himself responsible? If man's acts are the effect of causes, why punish him for what he cannot help ? Because punishment is a powerful determin- ing cause. Why should I be held responsible for my deeds? "The reply is," in Tyndall's words, " the right of society to protect itself against aggres- sive injurious forces, whether they be bound or free, forces of nature or forces of man."^ Punish- ment can have a meaning only in a deterministic scheme of things. We can by education make a moral being out of man, that is, influence his char- acter, determine him to act for the social good. As Riehl expresses it epigrammatically : " Man is not held responsible because he is by birth a moral being ; he becomes a moral being because he is held responsible." 11. Betermmism and Practice. — There are many men who, while acknowledging the arguments of the deterministic theory to be unanswerable, yet reject it on practical grounds. They claim that life would be impossible on such an hypothesis. The deterministic theory is not, however, a dis- couraging and paralyzing doctrine. On the con- trary, the knowledge that we are determined must 1 Fortni(jhtl>j Beview, 1877, "Science and Man," p. 612. 388 INTRODUCTION TO ETHICS CHARACTER AND FREEDOM 339 determine us to avoid certain conditions, and seek others more favorable. Determinism does not de- stroy the energy of action. Fatalistic nations like the Mohammedans were far more energetic than Christian ascetics, who believed in the will's abso- lute freedom. Determinism is the strongest motive to action. If I am exceedingly desirous of fame, how can the knowledge that this desire depends upon conditions affect me? Why should it make me less ambitious ? If I have been morally educa- ted, I shall continue to strive after certain things in spite of my belief in determinism. I shall go right on deliberating and choosing as heretofore, and make an effort to live an honorable, useful life. " Now when it is said by a fatalist," Butler writes, "that the whole constitution of nature, and the actions of men, that every thing and every mode and every circumstance of every thing, is necessary, and could not possibly have been otherwise, it is to be observed, that this necessity does not exclude deliberation, choice, preference, and acting from cer- tain principles and to certain ends ; because all this is a matter of undoubted experience, acknowledged by all, and what every man may, every moment, be conscious of." i "The author of nature then being certainly of some character or other, notwithstanding necessity, it is evident this necessity is as reconcil- able with the particular character of benevolence, veracity, and justice, in him, which attributes are ^ Analogy of Religion, chap, vi, p. 153. the foundation of religion, as with any other charac- ter ; since we find their necessity no more hinders men from being benevolent than cruel; true than faithless; just than unjust, or, if the fatalist pleases, what we call unjust."^ 1 Analogy of Religion, chap, vi, p. 159. INDEX n. STANDS FOR NOTB A. Absolute morality, 118, 145. Action, antecedents of, 209 ff. Alexander, S., 73. Altruism, 126 f. ; egoism and, 258 ff . Altruists, 258 ??.l. Anniceris, 159, 177 n.l. Antisthenes, on highest good, 183 f. Antoninus of Florence, on con- science, 31. Approval, feelings of, 82 f. Aristippus, 15ci f., 176. Aristotle, 109 n. 1, 123, 127 n. 1, 255 w. 1 ; his definition of an end, 156 f . ; on highest good, 184 ff. ; on pleasure-pa iu as the consequence of action, 240. As8oci:itionists, theory of con- science, 55 f . Atheism and teleological theory, 150 f. Augustine, 30, 306. Bacon, 262 n. 7, 287. Bahnsen, 289 n. 1. Bain, 175, 214 n.2, 230 n. 1, 233 n. 2, 262 n. 7, 329 ; on conscience, 57 ff. ; on motive to action, 218 IT. ; on pleasure-pain as consequence of action , 240. Balance of pleasures, 293. Barratt, 175. Baumann, 214 n. 2. Bentham, 177, 202 n.l; on con- science, 55 ; on highest good, 168 f. ; and Mill, 172 f. Biology and highest good, 276 ff. 341 Bonaventura, on conscience, 31. Bradley, 142. Brentano, on conscience, 41 f. Burckhardt, 87. Burton, 87. Butler, m n. 1, 80. 130 n. 2, 150, 262 n.l ; on conscience, 42 f . ; on de- terminism, 338 f.; on highest good, 164 f. C. Calderwood, 85 ; on conscience, 34f. Calvin, 324 n.l. Carlyle, on motives to action, 226 f . Carneri, 73. Categorical imperative, 61 ff-, 133 ff. Causality, 327 ff. ; and will, 319 S. Character, 311 ff. Christian conception, 190 n. 1. Chrysostom, 29. Cicero, 187. Civilization and pessimism, 299 ff. Clarke, S., 80, 85 ; on conscience, 33. Conscience, analysis and explana- tion of, 74 ff. ; differences in, 87 f., 96 ff . ; empirical view of, 47 ff . ; evolutional view of, and morality, 111 ff . ; genesis of, 93 ff . ; and heredity, 70 ff. ; and inclination, 107 ff. ; immediacy and infalli- bility of, 105 ff. ; innatenessof, 100 ff. ; intuitional view of, 28 ff. ; criticism of intuitional view of, 85 ff. ; as judgment, 83 ff. ; met- aphysical view of, 28 ff. ; myth- ical view, 27 f. ; as standard of morals, 116 ff . ; and teleological U2 INDEX INDEX 343 or utilitarian theory, 129 ff. ; theories of, 26 ff. Consciousness of freedom, 3o4 ff. Cooperation, 272 ff. Criminals, 314 ff. Criterion of morality and highest good, 155 ff. Cudworth, 85; on conscience, 32 f. Cumberland, 261 n, 1, 262 n. 7 ; on highest good, 193 f. Cynics, on highest good, 183 f. Cyreuaics, on highest good, 158 ff. D. D'Alembert, 262. D'Arcy, 63 W.3. Darwin, 80, 88, 262 n. 7 ; on con- science, 64 ff. ; on inherited con- science, 102 n. 1 ; on highest good, 195 f. ; on motives of action, 222. Decision of will, 212 ff. Democritus, 176, 270; on highest good, 162 f. Depravity, 30<} f . Descartes, 117 n. 1, 327 n. 1. Determinism, 319 ff . ; and prac- tice, 337 ff. Diogenes of Sinope, 184 ;?. 1. Disapproval, feelings of, 82 f. Dorner, A., 200. Drummond, W., 295. Dualism and free will, 326 f. Duns Scotus, 117: on conscience, 47 «. 1 ; on free will, 32r. f. Duty aud inclination, 107 ff. E. Effects of action, 118 ff., 134 ff., 258 ff. ; motives and, 141 ff. Effort, feeling of, 216 f. Egoism, 126 f.; altruism and, 258 ff. ; criticism of, 263 ff. ; as moral motive, 272 ff. Emotional intuitionists, 36 ff . ; criticism of, 91 ff. Empirical theory of conscience, 47 ff. : and intuitionism reconciled, 5!) ff. End justifies the means, 146 ff. Ends or ideals, 250 ff. Energism, 127, 180 ff . ; historical summary, 203 f . Environment aud heredity, 313 ff. Epictetus, 187. Epicurus, on highest good, 160 ff., 176, 207. Ethical judgment, subject-matter of, 9 ff. Ethics, definition of, 4 ff. ; differ- entia of, 7 ff. ; aud metaphysics, 17 ff. ; methods of, 20 ff. ; as a normative science, 23 n. 3; and politics, 16 f . ; and psychology, 13 ff.; theoretical and practical, 22 f. ; value of, 23 ff. Eudaimonism, 126 n. 1, 127 n. 1, 180 ff., 184 ff. Evaluation, 5. Explanation, 2 f. F. Faust, 289. Fiat, 212 ff. Fichtp. on free will, 325 ; on moral UKUivo, 269 f. Fowler, 175. Freedom, of will, 316 ff. ; conscio uuss uf, .WW ff. ; criticism of, 329 ff. ; and detfruiinism reconciled, 327 IT.; oi nidilferejice, ;;J5 f., 32<) ff. ; and metaphysics. 324 ff. ; and science, 320; and theology, 323 f. G. Genesis of conscience, 93 ff Gersou, 117. Gizycki, G. von, 73, 175. Goldt'u agp, .'{OS ff. Good, see Highest Good. (Goodwill, 142 ff. (xreen, (»3 n. 1, y^ 3, 325 n. 1. Guyau, 72, 80, 93 n. 1, 111 n.l; on pleasure-theory, 222 n. 1. H. Hamlet, 287. 289. Happiness and virtue, 303 ff. Hartley, on conscience, 56 f. ; on sympathy, 262 n. 7. Hartmaun, 289 n. 1. Hedonism, 126, 155 ff. ; critique of, 205ff. ; metaphysical, 247 f.; psy- chological fallacies of, 2;56 ff . ; suiuiiiary of history of, 176 ff. Hedonistic psychology, 217 ff. Hegel, 325. Hegesias, 159. Helvetius, 2()2; on conscience, 53. Herbart, 41, 83 «.3. Heredity, conscience and, 70 ff., 101 ff. ; environment and, 313 ff. Highest good, 205 ff., 2.50 ff. ; biol- ogy and, 276 ff. ; and criterion of morality, 155 ff. ; and moral- ity, 278 ff. ; theories of, 155 ff. Hobbes, on conscience, 47 f. ; on egoism, 261 ; on highest good, 190. Hoffding, 73, 200, 230 y/. 1, 257 n. 1, 262 n. 7 ; on motives, 228 ; on will, 213. Holbach,53w.5, 262. Humanity, ideal of, 253 ff. Hume, 36 n. 1 , 141 n. 1, 177, 262 n. 7, 276 ; on conscience, 39 ff. ; on ego- ism, 265 n. 1, 2(J6, 267 n. 1; on highest good, 166 f. Hutcheson, 132 n. 1, 143 n. 1, 177, 262 n. 7 ; on conscience, 36 n. 1, 38 f . ; on highest good, 165 f . Huxley, 256 n.\. Hypothetical imperatives, 133 ff. I. Ideal of humanity, 253 ff. Ideals, 250 ff. Ideo-motor action, 211. Immediacy of conscience, 105 ff. Impulses, 227 f., 2.33 f. ; physiology of, 233 f . ; and pleasure-pain, 2,37 f. ; and virtues, 312 f. Impulsive acts, 211 f. Inclination and duty, 107 ff. Indeterminism, criticism of, .329 ff. Infallibility of conscience, 105 ff. Innate elements in conscience, 100 ff. Instincts, 210, 224 f. ; explanations of, 1.31. Intellectual pleasures, 225 f. Intuitionism, 28 ff. ; criticism of, 85 ff.; emotional, 36 ff. ; and empiricism reconciled, 59 ff.; per- ceptional, 42 ff., 85 ff. ; rational- istic, 28 ff. ; and teleological theory, 152 ff. James, 12, 19, 214, 2.33 n. 3, 254, 300, 329 ; on egoism, 263 ff . ; on mo- tives to action, 220 ff. ; on voli- tion, 213 n. 1. Janet, 35 n. 1. Jesuits, 324 n. 2. Jhering, 73, 257, 262 n. 7 ; on high- est good, 198 f. Jodl, 2.30 n. 1; on motives of ac- tion, 229. Judgment in conscience, 83 ff. K. Kant, 41, 81, 86, 97, 134, 142, 145; on conscience, 60 ff . ; on free will, 319, 325; on highest good, 200 ff . ; on inclination and duty, 107 ff. ; on infallible conscience, 105 ff. Keats, 288. Kulpe, 230 n. 1. 247. La Bruyere, 262. Ladd, 98 n. 2, 2.30 n. 1, 2.33 n. 4, 240 n. 3; on conscience, 98 n. 2; on egoism, 265/1.2. Lamettrie, 53 n. 5, 262. La Rochefoucauld, 262. Lear, 303. Lecky, 85, 87, 279. Leibniz, 12 n. 1, 86 n. 1, 164 7i.3; on free will, 326, 333. Livermore, 315. Locke, 177 ^ on conscience, 48 ff. ; on highest good, 163 f . Lotze, 214 n. 2. Luther, 324 n. 1. 344 INDEX M. Macaulay, 92. Mackenzie, 63 n. 3. Maine, 278 n.1. Mainliinder, 289 n. 1. Mandeville, 53 n. 5 ; on egoism, 2(51 f. Marcus Aurelius, 187. Marsliall, 240 n. 3. Martiueau, 9, m n.\, 81, 85, 142, 178 n. 1 ; on conscience, 43 ff. ; on free will, 331 f. Materialism, 324 flf. Memory, 243 f. Metaphysics, ethics and, 17 ff. ; and free will, 324 ff. Mill, James, 57 n. 1, iri9 n. 4. Mill, J. S., 57 n. 1, 12(5 n. 1, 151 n. 1, 157 n. 1, 177 ff., 207, 22(5, 202 n. 7, 313; Bentham and, 172 f.; on highest good, 109 ff. Moral action, 2(19 ff. : moral codes, 137 ff.; moral evaluation, 5; moral insanity, 3, 4 ff. : moral motives, 209 ff. ; moral philoso- phy, 5. Moralistic pessimism, 303 ff. Morality, criterion of, 116 ff. ; cri- terion of, and highest good, 155 ff. ; and ethics, 23 ff. ; and highest good, 278 ff. ; and prosperity, 137 ff. ; theological view of, 117 f. Motives, 206; of action, 209 ff., 261 ff . ; and effects, 141 ff. ; egoistic and altruistic, 253 ff . ; moral, 269 ff. Muirhead, 63 n. 3. MUnsterberg, 73, 233 n. 3. N. Neo-Platonists, on highest good, 188 ff. Newman, Cardinal, 135 n. 1. Nichols, 242 n. 1. Nietzsche, 272. O. Obligation, 79 ff. Ontogenesis, 99. Optimism, 286 ff. Original sin, 306 f. P. Pain, as a motive, 232 ff. ; as a negative quantity, 296 ff.; as a warning, 242 ff. Paley, 1.50, 177, 262 w.7; on con- science, 54 f . ; on highest good, 167 f . Paul, St., 122. Paulsen, 73, 115, 125 n. 1, 127 n. 1, 14;{, 200, 242, 253 f., 259 n. 3, 260, 262 n. 7, .303, ;527 f. Pelagius, 29, 324 n. 2. Perceptional intuitionists, 42 ff. Perfection-theory. ISO ff. Pessimism, 286 ff . ; and civili- zation, 299 ff. ; emotional, 293 ff. ; intellectual, 291 f . ; different kinds of, 290 ff. • scientitic, 289 ff. ; subjective, 287 ff. ; volitional, 303 ff. Phylogenesis, 100. Plato, 123; on highest good, 181 ff. Pleasure, as a bait, 242 ff. ; as end of all existence, 239 ff. ; as high- est good, 207 ff. ; as the moral end, 249; as motive, 218 ff.; of race, as motive, 239. Pleasure-pains, as consequence of action, 23!) ff. ; as the only feel- ings, 2J«, 237; and impulses, 237 f . ; as motives, 212, 228 ff. ; physiology of, 246 f . ; and preser- vation, 242 ff. Pleasure-theory, 155 ff. Plotinus, 188 n, 1. Politics, ethics and, 16 f. Porter, 35 ??. 1. Practical ethics, 285 ; and theoreti- cal ethics, 22 f . Practical philosophy, 5. Practice, theory and, 5 n. 3, 22 1. Prayer, 214 n. 2, 2;i3 n. 2. Preservation, pleasure-pain and, 242 ff. Price, 35 n. 1. Psychology, ethics and, 13 ff. INDEX 345 R. Rational intuitionists, 28 ff. Realization-theory, 180 ff. Reasoning, 244 f . Re'e, 73. Reflex acts, 209. Reid, 35 n.\. Responsi!)ility, 336 f. Riehl, on free will, 330, 333; on re- sponsibility, 337. Rolph, 232 n. 2. Rousseau, 41, 308 ff. S. Sanction of morality, 129 ff., 146. Schelliug, on free will, 333. Schoolmen, on conscience, 30 ff. Schopenhauer, 97 n. 2, 213 n. 1, 232 71. 2, 289 n. 1, 307, 325; on free will, 319 ; on moral motive, 269 f . ; on pessimism, 294 ff. ; on will, 215 n. 2. Schwarz, JI., 42n. 1. Science, and free will, 320; func- tion of, 1 ff. ; interrelation of, 12 ff. ; subject-matter of, 3 f . Self-evidence, of conscience, 90 f . ; of moral rules, 118. Selfishness and sympathy, 267 ff. Seneca, 187. Sensation, and pleasure-pain, 243. Sergi, 232 n. 2. Seth, J., 63 n. 3, 200. Shaftesbury, 261, 262 n. 7; on con- science, 36 n. 1, 37 f . ; on highest good, 194 f. Shakespeare, 287, 303. Sidgwick, H., 113 n. 1, 177, 179, 203 w.l, 207, 240 w. 3, 262 n.l\ on consciousness of freedom, 334 ; on highest good, 173 ff. ; on mo- tive of action, 222 /«. 2; on un- conscious pleasure-pain, 235. Simmel, 73. Smith, A., 41, 262??,. 7. Socrates, 27, 123; on highest good, 180 f. Sophists, 180. Spencer, 259 n. 1, 262 n. 7 ; on con- science, 66 ff . ; on highest good, 175; on obligation, 108 f . ; on pleasure-pain as consequence of action, 240. Spinoza, 230 n. 1 ; on highest good, 190 ff. Spiritualism and free will, 325 f. Steinthal, on will, 214 n. 1. Stephen, 72, 144 f., 262 n. 7; on highest good, 197 f . Stewart, 35 ;i. 1. Stoics, on highest good, 186 f . Subjective and objective morality, 142 ff. Sully, 93 n. 1. Sumnium bonum, see Highest Good. Sutherland, 66 n. 2, 73. Sympathy, 278 ff. ; growth of, 278 ff. ; as a moral motive, 269 ff. ; selfishness and, 267 ff. Synderesis, 30 ff., 89. Syneidesis, 30. T. Teleological schools, 124 ff. Teleological theory, 118 ff., 129 ff.; and atheism, 150 f. ; and con- science, 129 ff. ; and intuitionism, 152 ff. Tennyson, 112. Theodorus, 159, 176. Theology, and theories of will, 323 f. Theoretical and practical ethics, 22 f. Theory and practice, 5 n. 3. Thomas Aquinas, 118 n. 1, 150. Tyndall, on free will, 321; on re- sponsibility, 337. U. Unconscious pleasure-pain as mo- tive, 234 ff. Utilitarianism, 118 ff., 126 n. 2, 129 ff. V. Vices, 311 ff. Virtue and happiness, 303 ff. 346 INDEX Virtues, and impulses, 312 f . ; and vices, 311 ff. Volition, 212 ff. ; antecedents of, 215 ff. ; and pleasure-pain, 238. Volkmann, 83 n. 2. Voltaire, 262 ; on pessimism, 297. W. Ward, on free will, 330 f. Will, 212 ff. ; freedom of, 316 ff. William Occam, 117 ; on conscience. 47 n. 1. Williams, 259 n. 2, 274 n. 1. 315. Wordsworth, 98. Wundt, 23 n. 2, 73, 110 n. 1, 230 n. 1, 233 n. 2 ; on highest good, 199 f . ; on will, 215 n. 2. Z. Zeno, the Stoic, 186. Ziegler, Th., 200. Ziehen, on will, 213. BOOKS IN PHILOSOPHY THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. An Introduction to the Study of Philosophy. By John Grier Hibben, Professor of Logic in Princeton University. i2mo, 203 pages. $1.00. The author presents a concise and luminous statement of the various points at issue between the several schools of philosophy and forms a general introduction for beginners in the study. It is designed both for the work of reference and text-book. CONTENTS. I. A Plea for Philosophy. 2. The Problems of Philosophy. 3. Ihe Problem of Being. 4. The World Problem, 5. The Problem of Mind. 6. The Problem of Knowledge. 7. The Problem of Reason. 8. The Problem of Conscience. 9. The Problem of Political Obligation. 10. The Problem of the Sense of Beauty, Index. President J. M. Taylor, Vassar College. 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