designated the ‘Real in morality,’ He declares that Kant’s notion of an absolute moral law, binding by its inherent power over the mind, is a mere fiction. The difference between inclination and the moral imperative is merely a difference between lower and higher pleasure. The moral law can have no authority unless imposed by a superior, as a law emanating from a lawgiver. If man is not accountable to some higher being, there is no distinction between duty and pleasure. The standard of right and wrong is the moral _nature_ (not the arbitrary _will_) of God.[25] Now, as we cannot know God–an infinite being,–so we have but a relative conception of morality. We may have lower and higher ideas of duty. Morality therefore admits of progress. But no advance in morality contradicts the _principles_ previously acknowledged, however it may vary the acts whereby those principles are carried out. And each advance takes its place in the mind, not as a question to be supported by argument, but as an axiom to be intuitively admitted. Each principle appears true and irreversible so far as it goes, but it is liable to be merged in a more comprehensive formula. It is an error of philosophers to imagine that they have an absolute standard of morals, and thereupon to set out _a priori_ the criterion of a possibly true revelation. Kant said that the revealed commands of God could have no religious value, unless approved by the moral reason; and Fichte held that no true revelation could contain any intimation of future rewards and punishments, or any moral rule not deducible from the principles of the practical reason. But revelation has enlightened the practical reason, as by the maxim–to love God with all thy heart, and thy neighbour as thyself–a maxim, says Mr. Mansel, that philosophy in vain toiled after, and subsequently borrowed without acknowledgment.
JOHN STUART MILL.
Mr. J.S. Mill examines the basis of Ethics in a small work entitled Utilitarianism.
After a chapter of General Remarks, he proposes (Chapter II.) to enquire, What Utilitarianism is? This creed holds that actions are right in proportion as they tend to promote happiness, wrong as they tend to produce the reverse of happiness. By happiness is intended pleasure, and the absence of pain; by unhappiness, pain, and the privation of pleasure. The things included under pleasure and pain may require farther explanation; but this does not affect the general theory. To the accusation that pleasure is a mean and grovelling object of pursuit, the answer is, that human beings are capable of pleasures that are not grovelling. It is compatible with utility to recognize some _kinds_ of pleasure as more valuable than others. There are pleasures that, irrespective of amount, are held by all persons that have experienced them to be preferable to others. Few human beings would consent to become beasts, or fools, or base, in consideration of a greater allowance of pleasure. Inseparable from the estimate of pleasure is a _sense of dignity_, which determines a preference among enjoyments.
But this distinction in kind is not essential to the justification of the standard of Utility. That standard is not the agent’s own greatest happiness, but the greatest amount of happiness altogether. However little the higher virtues might contribute to one’s own happiness, there can be no doubt that the world in general gains by them.
Another objection to the doctrine is, that happiness is a thing unattainable, and that no one has a _right_ to it. Not only can men do without happiness, but renunciation is the first condition of all nobleness of character.
In reply, the author remarks that, supposing happiness impossible, the prevention of unhappiness might still be an object, which is a mode of Utility. But the alleged impossibility of happiness is either a verbal quibble or an exaggeration. No one contends for a life of sustained rapture; occasional moments of such, in an existence of few and transitory pains, many and various pleasures, with a predominance of the active over the passive, and moderate expectations on the whole, constitute a life worthy to be called happiness. Numbers of mankind have been satisfied with much less. There are two great factors of enjoyment–tranquillity and excitement. With the one, little pleasure will suffice; with the other, considerable pain can be endured. It does not appear impossible to secure both in alternation. The principal defect in persons of fortunate lot is to care for nobody but themselves; this curtails the excitements of life, and makes everything dwindle as the end approaches. Another circumstance rendering life unsatisfactory is the want of mental cultivation, by which men are deprived of the inexhaustible pleasures of knowledge, not merely in the shape of science, but as practice and fine art. It is not at all difficult to indicate sources of happiness; the main stress of the problem lies in the contest with the positive evils of life, the great sources of physical and of mental suffering–indigence, disease, and the unkindness, worthlessness, or premature loss of objects of affection. Poverty and Disease may be contracted in dimensions; and even vicissitudes of fortune are not wholly beyond control.
It is unquestionably possible to do without happiness. This is the lot of the greater part of mankind, and is often voluntarily chosen by the hero or the martyr. But self-sacrifice is not its own end; it must be made to earn for others immunity from sacrifice. It must be a very imperfect state of the world’s arrangements that requires any one to serve the happiness of others by the absolute sacrifice of their own; yet undoubtedly while the world is in that imperfect state, the readiness to make such a sacrifice is the highest virtue that can be found in man. Nay, farther, the conscious ability to do without happiness, in such a condition of the world, is the best prospect of realizing such happiness as is attainable. Meanwhile, self-devotion belongs as much to the Utilitarian as to the Stoic or the Transcendentalist; with the reservation that a sacrifice not tending to increase the sum of happiness is to be held as wasted. The golden rule, do as you would be done by, is the ideal perfection of utilitarian morality. The means of approaching this ideal are, first, that laws and society should endeavour to place the interest of the individual in harmony with the interest of the whole; and, secondly, that education and opinion should establish in the mind of each individual an indissoluble association between his own good and the good of the whole.
The system of Utility is objected to, on another side, as being too high for humanity; men cannot be perpetually acting with a view to the general interests of society. But this is to mistake the meaning of a standard, and to confound the rule of action with the motive. Ethics tells us what are our duties, or by what test we are to know them; but no system of ethics requires that the motive of every action should be a feeling of duty; our actions are rightly done provided only duty does not condemn them. The great majority of actions have nothing to do with the good of the world–they end with the individual; it happens to few persons, and that rarely, to be public benefactors. Private utility is in the mass of cases all that we have to attend to. As regards abstinences, indeed, it would be unworthy of an intelligent agent not to be aware that the action is one that, if practised generally, would be generally injurious, and to not feel a sense of obligation on that ground; but such an amount of regard for the general interest is required under every system of morals.
It is farther alleged against Utility, that it renders men cold and unsympathizing, chills the moral feelings towards individuals, and regards only the dry consequences of actions, without reference to the moral qualities of the agent. The author replies that Utility, like any other system, admits that a right action does not necessarily indicate a virtuous character. Still, he contends, in the long run, the best proof of a good character is good actions. If the objection means that utilitarians do not lay sufficient stress on the beauties of character, he replies that this is the accident of persons cultivating their moral feelings more than their sympathies and artistic perceptions, and may occur under every view of the foundation of morals.
The next objection considered is that Utility is a _godless_ doctrine. The answer is, that whoever believes in the perfect goodness and wisdom of God, necessarily believes that whatever he has thought fit to reveal on the subject of morals must fulfil the requirements of utility in a supreme degree.
Again, Utility is stigmatized as an immoral doctrine, by carrying out Expediency in opposition to Principle. But the Expedient in this sense means what is expedient for the agent himself, and, instead of being the same thing with the useful, is a branch of the hurtful. It would often be expedient to tell a lie, but so momentous and so widely extended are the utilities of truth, that veracity is a rule of transcendent expediency. Yet all moralists admit exceptions to it, solely on account of the manifest inexpediency of observing it on certain occasions.
The author does not omit to notice the usual charge that it is impossible to make a calculation of consequences previous to every action, which is as much as to say that no one can be under the guidance of Christianity, because there is not time, on the occasion of doing anything, to read through the Old and New Testaments. The real answer is (substantially the same as Austin’s) that there has been ample time during the past duration of the species. Mankind have all that time been learning by experience the consequences of actions; on that experience they have founded both their prudence and their morality. It is an inference from the principle of utility, which regards morals as a practical art, that moral rules are improvable; but there exists under the ultimate principle a number of intermediate generalizations, applicable at once to the emergencies of human conduct. Nobody argues that navigation is not founded on astronomy, because sailors cannot wait to calculate the Nautical Almanack.
As to the stock argument, that people will pervert utility for their private ends, Mr. Mill challenges the production of any ethical creed where this may not happen. The fault is due, not to the origin of the rules, but to the complicated nature of human affairs, and the necessity of allowing a certain latitude, under the moral responsibility of the agent, for accommodation to circumstances. And in cases of conflict, utility is a better guide than anything found in systems whose moral laws claim independent authority.
Chapter III. considers the ULTIMATE SANCTION OF THE PRINCIPLE OF UTILITY.
It is a proper question with regard to a supposed moral standard,–What is its sanction? what is the source of its obligation? wherein lies its binding force? The customary morality is consecrated by education and opinion, and seems to be obligatory _in itself_; but to present, as the source of obligation, some general principle, not surrounded by the halo of consecration, seems a paradox; the superstructure seems to stand better without such a foundation. This difficulty belongs to every attempt to reduce morality to first principles, unless it should happen that the principle chosen has as much sacredness as any of its applications.
Utility has, or might have, all the sanctions attaching to any other system of morals. Those sanctions are either External or Internal. The External are the hope of favour and the fear of displeasure (1) from our fellow-creatures, or (2) from the Ruler of the Universe, along with any sympathy or affection for them, or love and awe of Him, inclining us apart from selfish motives. There is no reason why these motives should not attach themselves to utilitarian morality.
The Internal Sanction, under every standard of duty, is of one uniform character–a feeling in our own mind; a pain, more or less intense, attendant on violation of duty, which in properly cultivated moral natures rises, in the more serious cases, into shrinking from it as an impossibility. This feeling, when disinterested, and connecting itself with the pure idea of duty, is _the essence of Conscience_; a complex phenomenon, involving associations from sympathy, from love, and still more from fear; from the recollections of childhood, and of all our past life; from self-esteem, desire of the esteem of others, and occasionally even self-abasement. This extreme complication is an obstacle to our supposing that it can attach to other objects than what are found at present to excite it. The binding force, however, is _the mass of feeling to be broken through_ in order to violate our standard of right, and which, if we do violate that standard, will have to be afterwards encountered as remorse.
Thus, apart from external sanctions, the ultimate sanction, under Utility, is the same as for other standards, namely, the conscientious feelings of mankind. If there be anything innate in conscience, there is nothing more likely than that it should be a regard to the pleasures and pains of others. If so, the intuitive ethics would be the same as the utilitarian; and it is admitted on all hands that a _large_ portion of morality turns upon what is due to the interests of fellow-creatures.
On the other hand, if, as the author believes, the moral feelings are not innate, they are not for that reason less natural. It is natural to man to speak, to reason, to cultivate the ground, to build cities, though these are acquired faculties. So the moral faculty, if not a part of our nature, is a natural outgrowth of it; capable, in a certain small degree, of springing up spontaneously, and of being brought to a high pitch by means of cultivation. It is also susceptible, by the use of the external sanctions and the force of early impressions, of being cultivated in almost any direction, and of being perverted to absurdity and mischief.
The basis of natural sentiment capable of supporting the utilitarian morality is to be found in the _social feelings of mankind_. The social state is so natural, so necessary, and so habitual to man, that he can hardly conceive himself otherwise than as a member of society; and as civilization advances, this association becomes more firmly riveted. All strengthening of social ties, and all healthy growth of society, give to each individual a stronger personal interest in consulting the welfare of others. Each comes, as though instinctively, to be conscious of himself as a being that _of course_ pays regard to others. There is the strongest motive in each person to manifest this sentiment, and, even if he should not feel it strongly himself, to cherish it in everybody else. The smallest germs of the feeling are thus laid hold of, and nourished by the contagion of sympathy and the influences of education; and by the powerful agency of the external sanctions there is woven around it a complete web of corroborative association. In an improving state of society, the influences are on the increase that generate in each individual a feeling of unity with all the rest; which, if perfect, would make him never think of anything for self, if they also were not included. Suppose, now, that this feeling of unity were taught as a religion, and that the whole force of education, of institutions, and of opinion, were directed to make every person grow up surrounded with the profession and the practice of it; can there be any doubt as to the sufficiency of the ultimate sanction for the Happiness morality?
Even in our present low state of advancement, the deeply-rooted conception that each individual has of himself as a social being tends to make him wish to be in harmony with his fellow-creatures. The feeling may be, in most persons, inferior in strength to the selfish feelings, and may be altogether wanting; but to such as possess it, it has all the characters of a natural feeling, and one that they would not desire to be without.
Chapter IV. is OF WHAT SORT OF PROOF THE PRINCIPLE OF UTILITY is susceptible. Questions about ends are questions as to what things are desirable. According to the theory of Utility, happiness is desirable as an end; all other things are desirable as means. What is the proof of this doctrine?
As the proof, that the sun is visible, is that people actually see it, so the proof that happiness is desirable, is that people do actually desire it. No reason can be given why the general happiness is desirable, beyond the fact that each one desires their own happiness.
But granting that people desire happiness as _one_ of their ends of conduct, do they never desire anything else? To all appearance they do; they desire virtue, and the absence of vice, no less surely than pleasure and the absence of pain. Hence the opponents of utility consider themselves entitled to infer that happiness is not the standard of moral approbation and disapprobation.
But the utilitarians do not deny that virtue is a thing to be desired. The very reverse. They maintain that it is to be desired, and that _for itself_. Although considering that what makes virtue is the tendency to promote happiness, yet they hold that the mind is not in a right state, not in a state conformable to Utility, not in the state conducive to the general happiness, unless it has adopted this essential instrumentality so warmly as to love it for its own sake. It is necessary to the carrying out of utility that certain things, originally of the nature of means, should come by association to be a part of the final end. Thus health is but a means, and yet we cherish it as strongly as we do any of the ultimate pleasures and pains. So virtue is not originally an end, but it is capable of becoming so; it is to be desired and cherished not solely as a means to happiness, but as a part of happiness.
The notorious instance of money exemplifies this operation. The same may be said of power and fame; although these are ends as well as means. We should be but ill provided with happiness, were it not for this provision of nature, whereby, things, originally indifferent, but conducive to the satisfaction of our primitive desires, become in themselves sources of pleasure, of even greater value than the primitive pleasures, both in permanency and in the extent of their occupation of our life. Virtue is originally valuable as bringing pleasure and avoiding pain; but by association it may be felt as a good in itself, and be desired as intensely as any other good; with this superiority over money, power, or fame, that it makes the individual a blessing to society, while these others may make him a curse.
With the allowance thus made for the effect of association, the author considers it proved that there is in reality nothing desired except happiness. Whatever is desired otherwise than as a means to some end beyond itself, and ultimately to happiness, is not desired for itself till it has become such. Human nature is so constituted, he thinks, that we desire nothing but what is either a part of happiness or a means of happiness; and no other proof is required that these are the only things desirable. Whether this psychological assertion be correct, must be determined by the self-consciousness and observation of the most practised observers of human nature.
It may be alleged that, although desire always tends to happiness, yet Will, as shown by actual conduct, is different from desire. We persist in a course of action long after the original desire has faded. But this is merely an instance of that familiar fact, the power of habit, and is nowise confined to the virtuous actions. Will is amenable to habit; we may will from habit what we no longer desire for itself, or desire only because we will it. But the will is the child of desire, and passes out of the dominion of its parent only to come under the sway of habit. What is the result of habit may not be intrinsically good; we might think it better for virtue that habit did not come in, were it not that the other influences are not sufficiently to be depended on for unerring constancy, until they have acquired this farther support.
Chapter V. is ON THE CONNEXION BETWEEN JUSTICE AND UTILITY.
The strongest obstacle to the doctrine of Utility has been drawn from the Idea of Justice. The rapid perception and the powerful sentiment connected with the Just, seem to show it as generically distinct from every variety of the Expedient.
To see whether the sense of justice can be explained on grounds of Utility, the author begins by surveying in the concrete the things usually denominated just. In the first place, it is commonly considered unjust to deprive any one of their personal liberty, or property, or anything secured to them by law: in other words, it is unjust to violate any one’s legal rights. Secondly, The legal rights of a man may be such as _ought_ not to have belonged to him; that is, the law conferring those rights may be a bad law. When a law is bad, opinions will differ as to the justice or injustice of infringing it; some think that no law should be disobeyed by the individual citizen; others hold that it is just to resist unjust laws. It is thus admitted by all that there is such a thing as _moral right_, the refusal of which is injustice. Thirdly, it is considered just that each person should receive what he _deserves_ (whether good or evil). And a person is understood to deserve good if he does right, evil if he does wrong; and in particular to deserve good in return for good, and evil in return for evil. Fourthly, it is unjust to _break faith_, to violate an engagement, or disappoint expectations knowingly and voluntarily raised. Like other obligations, this is not absolute, but may be overruled by some still stronger demand of justice on the other side. Fifthly, it is inconsistent with justice to be _partial_; to show favour or preference in matters where favour does not apply. We are expected in certain cases to prefer our friends to strangers; but a tribunal is bound to the strictest impartiality; rewards and punishments should be administered impartially; so likewise the patronage of important public offices. Nearly allied to impartiality is the idea of _equality_. The justice of giving equal protection to the rights of all is maintained even when the rights themselves are very unequal, as in slavery and in the system of ranks or castes. There are the greatest differences as to what is equality in the distribution of the produce of labour; some thinking that all should receive alike; others that the neediest should receive most; others that the distribution should be according to labour or services.
To get a clue to the common idea running through all these meanings, the author refers to the etymology of the word, which, in most languages, points to something ordained by _law_. Even although there be many things considered just, that we do not usually enforce by law, yet in these cases it would give us pleasure if law could be brought to bear upon offenders. When we think a person bound in justice to do a thing, we should like to see him punished for not doing it; we lament the obstacles that may be in the way, and strive to make amends by a strong expression of our own opinion. The idea of legal constraint is thus the generating idea of justice throughout all its transformations.
The real turning point between morality and simple expediency is contained in the penal sanction. Duty is what we may _exact_ of a person; there may be reasons why we do not exact it, but the person himself would not be entitled to complain if we did so. Expediency, on the other hand, points to things that we may wish people to do, may praise them for doing, and despise them for not doing, while we do not consider it proper to bring in the aid of punishment.
There enters farther into the idea of Justice what has been expressed by the ill-chosen phrase, ‘perfect obligation,’ meaning that the duty involves a moral right on the part of some definite person, as in the case of a debt; an imperfect obligation is exemplified by charity, which gives no legal claim to any one recipient. Every such right is a case of Justice, and not of Beneficence.
The Idea of Justice is thus shown to be grounded in Law; and the next question is, does the strong feeling or sentiment of Justice grow out of considerations of utility? Mr. Mill conceives that though the notion of expediency or utility does not give birth to the sentiment, it gives birth to what is _moral_ in it.
The two essentials of justice are (1) the desire to punish some one, and (2) the notion or belief that harm has been done to some definite individual or individuals. Now, it appears to the author that the desire to punish is a spontaneous outgrowth of two sentiments, both natural, and, it may be, instinctive; the impulse of _self-defence_, and the feeling of _sympathy_. We naturally resent, repel, and retaliate, any harm done to ourselves and to any one that engages our sympathies. There is nothing moral in mere resentment; the moral part is the subordination of it to our social regards. We are moral beings, in proportion as we restrain our private resentment whenever it conflicts with the interests of society. All moralists agree with Kant in saying that no act is right that could not be adopted as a law by all rational beings (that is, consistently with the well-being of society).
There is in Justice a rule of conduct, and a right on the part of some one, which right ought to be enforced by society. If it is asked why society _ought_ to enforce the right, there is no answer but the general utility. If that expression seem feeble and inadequate to account for the energy of retaliation inspired by injustice, the author asks us to advert to the extraordinarily important and impressive kind of utility that is concerned. The interest involved is _security_, to every one’s feelings the most vital of all interests. All other earthly benefits needed by one person are not needed by another; and many of them can, if necessary, be cheerfully foregone, or replaced by something else; but security no human being can possibly do without; on it we depend for all our immunity from evil, and for the whole value of all and every good, beyond the passing moment. Now, this most indispensable of all necessaries, after physical nutriment, cannot be had unless the machinery for providing it is kept unintermittedly in active play. Our notion, therefore, of the claim we have on our fellow-creatures to join in making safe for us the very groundwork of our existence, gathers feelings around it so much more intense than those concerned in any of the more common cases of utility, that the difference in degree (as is often the case in psychology) becomes a real difference in kind. The claim assumes that character of absoluteness, that apparent infinity, and incommensurability with all other considerations, which constitute the distinction between the feeling of right and wrong, and that of ordinary expediency and inexpediency.
Having presented his own analysis of the sentiment of Justice, the author proceeds to examine the _intuitive_ theory. The charge is constantly brought against Utility, that it is an uncertain standard, differently interpreted by each person. The only safety, it is pretended, is found in the immutable, ineffaceable, and unmistakeable dictates of Justice, carrying their evidence in themselves, and independent of the fluctuations of opinions. But so far is this from being the fact, that there is as much difference of opinion, and as much discussion, about what is just, as about what is useful to society.
To take a few instances. On the question of Punishment, some hold it unjust to punish any one by way of example, or for any end but the good of the sufferer. Others maintain that the good of the society is the only admissible end of punishment. Robert Owen affirms that punishment altogether is unjust, and that we should deal with crime only through education. Now, without an appeal to expediency, it is impossible to arbitrate among these conflicting views; each one has a maxim of justice on its side. Then as to the apportioning of punishments to offences. The rule that recommends itself to the primitive sentiment of justice is an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth; a rule formally abandoned in European countries, although not without its hold upon the popular mind. With many, the test of justice, in penal infliction, is that it should be proportioned to the offence; while others maintain that it is just to inflict only such an amount of punishment as will deter from the commission of the offence.
Besides the differences of opinion already alluded to, as to the payment of labour, how many, and irreconcileable, are the standards of justice appealed to on the matter of taxation? One opinion is, that taxes should be in proportion to pecuniary means; others think the wealthy should pay a higher proportion. In point of natural justice, a case might be made out for disregarding means, and taking the same sum from each, as the privileges are equally bestowed: yet from feelings of humanity and social expediency no one advocates that view. So that there is no mode of extricating the question but the utilitarian.
To sum up. The great distinction between, the Just and the Expedient is the distinction between the essentials of well-being–the moral rules forbidding mankind to hurt one another–and the rules that only point out the best mode of managing some department of human affairs. It is in the higher moralities of protection from harm that each individual has the greatest stake; and they are the moralities that compose the obligations of justice. It is on account of these that punishment, or retribution of evil for evil, is universally included in the idea. For the carrying out of the process of retaliation, certain maxims are necessary as instruments or as checks to abuse; as that involuntary acts are not punishable; that no one shall be condemned unheard; that punishment should be proportioned to the offence. Impartiality, the first of judicial virtues, is necessary to the fulfilment of the other conditions of justice: while from the highest form of doing to each according to their deserts, it is the abstract standard of social and distributive justice; and is in this sense a direct emanation from the first principle of morals, the principle of the greatest Happiness. All social inequalities that have ceased to be considered as expedient, assume the character, not of simple inexpediency, but of injustice.
Besides the ‘Utilitarianism,’ Mr. Mill’s chief Ethical dissertations are his review of Whewell’s Moral Treatises (_Dissertations and Discussions_, Vol. II.), and parts of his Essay on _Liberty_. By collecting his views generally under the usual heads, we shall find a place for some points additional to what are given in the foregoing abstract.
I.–Enough has been stated as to his Ethical Standard, the Principle of Utility.
II.–We have seen his Psychological explanation of the Moral Faculty, as a growth from certain elementary feelings of the mind.
He has also discussed extensively the Freedom of the Will, maintaining the strict causation of human actions, and refuting the supposed fatalistic tendency of the doctrine.
He believes, as we have seen, in Disinterested impulses, but traces them to a purely self-regarding origin.
III.–He does not give any formal dissertation on Human Happiness, but indicates many of its important conditions, as in the remarks cited above, p. 702. In the chapter of the work on ‘Liberty,’ entitled Individuality, he illustrates the great importance of special tastes, and urges the full right of each person to the indulgence of these in every case where they do not directly injure others. He reclaims against the social tyranny prevailing on such points as dress, personal habits, and eccentricities.
IV.–As regards the Moral Code, he would repeal the legal and moral rule that makes marriage irrevocable. He would also abolish all restraints on freedom of thought, and on Individuality of conduct, qualified as above stated.
He would impose two new moral restraints. He considers that every parent should be bound to provide a suitable education for his own children. Farther, for any one to bring into the world human beings without the means of supporting them, or, in an over-peopled country, to produce children in such number as to depress the reward of labour by competition, he regards as serious offences.
SAMUEL BAILEY.
Mr. Samuel Bailey devotes the last four in his Third Series of ‘Letters on the Philosophy of the Human Mind,’ to the subject of the Moral Sentiments, or the feelings inspired in us by human conduct. He first sets down five facts in the human constitution, in which moral phenomena originate–
1. Man is susceptible of pleasure and pain of various kinds and degrees.
2. He likes and dislikes respectively the causes of them.
3. He desires to reciprocate pleasure and pain received, when intentionally given by other sentient beings.
4. He himself expects such reciprocation from his fellows, coveting it in the one case, and shunning it in the other.
5. He feels, under certain circumstances, more or less sympathy with the pleasures and pains given to others, accompanied by a proportionate desire that those affections should be reciprocated to the givers.
These rudimentary affections, states and operations of consciousness [he is careful to note that, besides feelings, intellectual conditions and processes are involved in them] are found more or less developed in all, or nearly all the human race. In support of the limitation now made, he adduces what are given as authentic accounts of savages devoid of all gratitude and fellow-feeling; and then goes on to trace the nature and development of moral sentiment from the rudimentary powers and susceptibilities mentioned, in those that do possess them. In doing so, he follows the convenient mode of speech that takes actions for the objects that excite the susceptibilities, although, in reality, the objects are no other than human beings acting in particular ways.
The feelings he supposes to be modified in manner or degree, according as actions are (1) done by ourselves to others, or (2) done to others by others, or (3) done to others by ourselves; _i.e._, according as we ourselves are the subjects, the spectators, or doers of them.
First, then, he considers our feelings in regard to actions done to us by others, and the more carefully, because these lie at the foundation of the rest. When a fellow-creature intentionally contributes to our pleasure, we feel the pleasure; we feel a liking to the person intentionally conferring it, and we feel an inclination to give him pleasure in return. The two last feelings–liking and inclination to reciprocate, constitute the simplest form of moral approbation; in the contrary case, dislike and resentment give the rudimentary form of moral disapprobation. It is enough to excite the feelings, that the actions are merely _thought_ to be done by the person. They are moral sentiments, even although it could be supposed that there were no other kinds of actions in the world except actions done to ourselves; but they are moral sentiments in the purely selfish form. That, for moral sentiment, mere liking and disliking must be combined with the desire to reciprocate good and evil, appears on a comparison of our different feelings towards animate and inanimate causes of pleasure and pain; there being towards inanimate objects no desire of reciprocation. To a first objection, that the violent sentiments, arising upon actions done to ourselves, should not get the temperate designation of moral approbation and disapprobation, he replies, that such extremes as the passions of gratitude and resentment must yet be identified in their origin with our cooler feelings, when we are mere spectators or actors. A second objection, that the epithet _moral_ is inapplicable to sentiments involving purely personal feeling, and destitute of sympathy, he answers, by remarking that the word _moral_, in philosophy, should not eulogistically be opposed to _immoral_, but should be held as neutral, and to mean ‘relating to conduct, whatever that conduct may be.’ He closes the first head with the observation, that in savage life the violent desire of reciprocation is best seen; generally, however, as he gives instances to show, in the form of revenge and reciprocation of evil.
In the second place, he considers our feelings when we are spectators of actions done to others by others. These form the largest class of actions, but to us they have a meaning, for the most part at least, only as they have an analogy to actions done to ourselves. The variety of the resulting feelings, generally less intense than when we are the subjects of the actions, is illustrated first by supposing the persons affected to be those we love; in this case, the feelings are analogous to those already mentioned, and they may be even more intense than when we ourselves are personally affected. If those affected are indifferent to us, our feelings are less intense, but we are still led to feel as before, from a natural sympathy with other men’s pains and pleasures–always supposing the sympathy is not (as often happens) otherwise counteracted or superseded; and also from the influence of association, if that, too, happen not to be countervailed. Of sympathy for human beings in general, he remarks that a certain measure of civilization seems required to bring it properly out, and he cites instances to prove how much it is wanting in savages. In a third case, where the persons affected are supposed to be those we hate, we are displeased when they are made to rejoice, and pleased when they suffer, unless we are overcome by our habitual associations with good and evil actions. Such associations weigh least with rude and savage peoples, but even the most civilized nations disregard them in times of war.
He takes up, in the third place, actions done by ourselves to others. Here, when the action is beneficent, the peculiarity is that an expectation of receiving good in return from our neighbours takes the place of a desire to reciprocate; we consider ourselves the proper object of grateful thoughts, &c., on the part both of receiver and of spectators. We are affected with the gratification of a benevolent desire, with self-complacency, and with undefined hopes. When we have inflicted injury, there is the expectation of evil, and a combination of feelings summed up in the word Remorse. But Remorse, like other sentiments, may fail in the absence of cultivation of mind or under special circumstances.
Having considered the three different kinds of actions separately, he next remarks that the sentiment prevailing in each case must be liable to a reflex influence from the other cases, whereby it will be strengthened or intensified; thus we come to associate certain intensities of moral sentiment with certain kinds of action, by whomsoever or to whomsoever performed. He also notes, that in the first and third cases, as well as in the second, there is a variation of the sentiment, according as the parties affected are friends, neutrals, or enemies. Finally, a peculiar and important modification of the sentiments results from the outward manifestations of them called forth from the persons directly or indirectly affected by actions. Such are looks, gestures, tones, words, or actions, being all efforts to gratify the natural desire of reciprocating pleasure or pain. Of these the most notable are the verbal manifestations, as they are mostly irrepressible, and can alone always be resorted to. While relieving the feelings, they can also become a most powerful, as they are often the only, instrument of reward and punishment. Their power of giving to moral sentiments greater precision, and of acting upon conduct like authoritative precepts, is seen in greatest force when they proceed from, bodies of men, whether they are regarded as signs of material consequences or not. He ends this part of the subject by defending, with Butler, the place of resentment in the moral constitution.
He proceeds to inquire how it is that not only the perfection of moral sentiment that would apportion more approbation and disapprobation according to the real tendencies of actions, is not attained, but men’s moral feelings are not seldom in extreme contrariety with the real effects of human conduct. First, he finds that men, from partial views, or momentarily, or from caprice, may bestow their sentiments altogether at variance with the real consequences of actions. Next there is the difficulty, or even impossibility, of calculating all the consequences far and near; whence human conduct is liable to be appreciated on whimsical grounds or on no discernible grounds at all, and errors in moral sentiment arise, which it takes increased knowledge to get rid of. In the third place, it is a fact that our moral sentiments are to a very great extent derived from tradition, while the approbation and disapprobation may have originally been wrongly applied. The force of tradition he illustrates by supposing the case of a patriarchal family, and he cannot too strongly represent its strength in overcoming or at least struggling against natural feeling. The authoritative precept of a superior may also make actions be approved or disapproved, not because they are directly perceived or even traditionally held to be beneficial or injurious, but solely because they are commanded or prohibited. Lastly, he dwells upon the influence of superstition in perverting moral sentiment, finding, however, that it operates most strongly in the way of creating false virtues and false vices and crimes.
These circumstances, explaining the want of conformity in our moral sentiments to the real tendencies of actions, he next employs to account for discrepancies in moral sentiment between different communities. Having given examples of such discrepancies, he supposes the case of two families, endowed with the rudimentary qualities mentioned at the beginning, but placed in different circumstances. Under the influence of dissimilar physical conditions, and owing to the dissimilar personal idiosyncracies of the families, and especially of their chiefs, there will be left few points of complete analogy between them in the first generation, and in course of time they will become two races exceedingly unlike in moral sentiment, as in other respects. He warns strongly against making moral generalizations except under analogous circumstances of knowledge and civilization. Most men have the rudimentary feelings, but there is no end to the variety of their intensity and direction. As a highest instance of discrepant moral sentiment, he cites the fact that, in our own country, a moral stigma is still attached to intellectual error by many people, and even by men of cultivation.
He now comes to the important question of the test or criterion that is to determine which of these diverse sentiments are right and which wrong, since they cannot all be right from the mere fact of their existence, or because they are felt by the subjects of them to be right, or believed to be in consonance with the injunctions of superiors, or to be held also by other people. The foregoing review of the _genesis_ of moral sentiments suggests a direct and simple answer. As they arise from likings and dislikings of actions that cause, or tend to cause, pleasure and pain, the first thing is to see that the likings and dislikings are well founded. Where this does not at once appear, examination of the real effects of actions must be resorted to; and, in dubious cases, men in general, when unprejudiced, allow this to be the natural test for applying moral approbation and disapprobation. If, indeed, the end of moral sentiment is to promote or to prevent the actions, there can be no better way of attaining that end. And, as a fact, almost all moralists virtually adopt it on occasion, though often unconsciously; the greatest happiness–principle is denounced by its opponents as a _mischievous_ doctrine.
The objection that the criterion of consequences is difficult of application, and thus devoid of practical utility, he rebuts by asserting that the difficulty is not greater than in other cases. We have simply to follow effects as far as we can; and it is by its ascertainable, not by its unascertainable, consequences, that we pronounce an action, as we pronounce an article of food or a statute, to be good or bad. The main effects of most actions are already very well ascertained, and the consequences to human happiness, when unascertainable, are of no value. If the test were honestly applied, ethical discrepancies would tend gradually to disappear.
He starts another objection:–The happiness-test is good as far as it goes, but we also approve and disapprove of actions as they are just or generous, or the contrary, and with no reference to happiness or unhappiness. In answering this argument, he confines himself to the case of Justice. To be morally approved, a just action must in itself be peculiarly pleasant or agreeable, irrespective of its other effects, which are left out: for on no theory can pleasantness or agreeableness be dissociated from moral approbation. Now, as Happiness is but a general appellation for all the agreeable affections of our nature, and unable to exist except in the shape of some agreeable emotion or combinations of agreeable emotions; the just action that is morally commendable, as giving naturally and directly a peculiar kind of pleasure independent of any other consequences, only produces one species of those pleasant states of mind that are ranged under the genus happiness. The test of justice therefore coincides with the happiness-test. But he does not mean that we are actually affected thus, in doing just actions, nor refuse to accept justice as a criterion of actions; only in the one case he maintains that, whatever association may have effected, the just act must originally have been approved for the sake of its consequences, and, in the other, that justice is a criterion, because proved over and over again to be a most beneficial principle.
After remarking that the Moral Sentiments of praise and blame may enter into accidental connection with, other feelings of a distinct character, like pity, wonder, &c., he criticises the use of the word _Utility_ in Morals. He avoids the term as objectionable, because the _useful_ in common language does not mean what is directly productive of happiness, but only what is instrumental in its production, and in most cases customarily or recurrently instrumental. A blanket is of continual utility to a poor wretch through a severe winter, but the benevolent act of the donor is not termed useful, because it confers the benefit and ceases. Utility is too narrow to comprehend all the actions that deserve approbation. We want an uncompounded substantive expressing the two attributes of _conferring_ and _conducing to_ happiness; as a descriptive phrase, _producing_ happiness is as succinct as any. The term useful is, besides, associated with the notion of what is serviceable in the affairs and objects of common life, whence the philosophical doctrine that erects utility as its banner is apt to be deemed, by the unthinking, low, mean, and derogatory to human nature and aspirations, although its real import is wholly free from such a reproach. Notwithstanding, therefore, the convenience of the term, and because the associations connected with it are not easily eradicated, whilst most of the trite objections to the true doctrine of morals turn upon its narrow meanings, he thinks it should be as much as possible disused.
Mr. Bailey ends by remarking of the common question, whether our moral sentiments have their origin in Reason, or in a separate power called the Moral Sense, that in his view of man’s sensitive and intellectual nature it is easily settled. He recognizes the feelings that have been enumerated, and, in connexion with them, intellectual processes of discerning and inferring; for which, if the Moral Sense and Reason are meant as anything more than unnecessary general expressions, they are merely fictitious entities. So, too, Conscience, whether as identified with the moral sense, or put for sensibility in regard to the moral qualities of one’s own mind, is a mere personification of certain mental states. The summary of Bailey’s doctrine falls within the two first heads.
I.–The Standard is the production of Happiness. [It should be remarked, however, that happiness is a wider aim than morality; although all virtue tends to produce happiness, very much that produces happiness is not virtue.]
II.–The Moral Faculty, while involving processes of discernment and inference, is mainly composed of certain sentiments, the chief being Reciprocity and Sympathy. [These are undoubtedly the largest ingredients in a mature, self-acting conscience; and the way that they contribute to the production of moral sentiment deserved to be, as it has been, well handled. The great omission in Mr. Bailey’s account is the absence of the element of _authority_, which is the main instrument in imparting to us the sense of obligation.]
HERBERT SPENCER.
Mr. Spencer’s ethical doctrines are, as yet, nowhere fully expressed. They form part of the more general doctrine of Evolution which he is engaged in working out; and they are at present to be gathered only from scattered passages. It is true that, in his first work, _Social Statics_ he presented what he then regarded as a tolerably complete view of one division of Morals. But without abandoning this view, he now regards it as inadequate–more especially in respect of its basis.
Mr. Spencer’s conception of Morality as a science, is conveyed in the following passages in a letter written by him to Mr. Mill; repudiating the title anti-utilitarian, which Mr. Mill had applied to him:–
‘The note in question greatly startled me by implicitly classing me with Anti-utilitarians. I have never regarded myself as an Anti-utilitarian. My dissent from the doctrine of Utility as commonly understood, concerns not the object to be reached by men, but the method of reaching it. While I admit that happiness is the ultimate end to be contemplated, I do not admit that it should be the proximate end. The Expediency-Philosophy having concluded that happiness is a thing to be achieved, assumes that Morality has no other business than empirically to generalize the results of conduct, and to supply for the guidance of conduct nothing more than its empirical generalizations.
But the view for which I contend is, that Morality properly so called–the science of right conduct–has for its object to determine _how_ and _why_ certain modes of conduct are detrimental, and certain other modes beneficial. These good and bad results cannot be accidental, but must be necessary consequences of the constitution of things; and I conceive it to be the business of Moral Science to deduce, from the laws of life and the conditions of existence, what kinds of action necessarily tend to produce happiness, and what kinds to produce unhappiness. Having done this, its deductions are to be recognized as laws of conduct; and are to be conformed to irrespective of a direct estimation of happiness or misery.
‘Perhaps an analogy will most clearly show my meaning. During its early stages, planetary Astronomy consisted of nothing more than accumulated observations respecting the positions and motions of the sun and planets; from which accumulated observations it came by and by to be empirically predicted, with an approach to truth, that certain of the heavenly bodies would have certain positions at certain times. But the modern science of planetary Astronomy consists of deductions from the law of gravitation–deductions showing why the celestial bodies _necessarily_ occupy certain places at certain times. Now, the kind of relation which thus exists between ancient and modern Astronomy, is analogous to the kind of relation which, I conceive, exists between the Expediency-Morality, and Moral Science properly so-called. And the objection which I have to the current Utilitarianism, is, that it recognizes no more developed form of morality–does not see that it has reached but the initial stage of Moral Science.
‘To make my position fully understood, it seems needful to add that, corresponding to the fundamental propositions of a developed Moral Science, there have been, and still are, developing in the race, certain fundamental moral intuitions; and that, though these moral intuitions are the results of accumulated experiences of Utility, gradually organized and inherited, they have come to be quite independent of conscious experience. Just in the same way that I believe the intuition of space, possessed by any living individual, to have arisen from organized and consolidated experiences of all antecedent individuals who bequeathed to him their slowly-developed nervous organizations–just as I believe that this intuition, requiring only to be made definite and complete by personal experiences, has practically become a form of thought, apparently quite independent of experience; so do I believe that the experiences of utility organised and consolidated through all past generations of the human race, have been producing corresponding nervous modifications, which, by continued transmission and accumulation, have become in us certain faculties of moral intuition–certain emotions responding to right and wrong conduct, which have no apparent basis in the individual experiences of utility. I also hold that just as the space-intuition responds to the exact demonstrations of Geometry, and has its rough conclusions interpreted and verified by them; so will moral intuitions respond to the demonstrations of Moral Science, and will have their rough conclusions interpreted and verified by them.’
The relations between the Expediency-Morality, and Moral Science, conceived by Mr. Spencer to be, the one transitional, and the other ultimate, are further explained in the following passage from his essay on ‘Prison-Ethics’:–
‘Progressing civilization, which is of necessity a succession of compromises between old and new, requires a perpetual re-adjustment of the compromise between the ideal and the practicable in social arrangements: to which end both elements of the compromise must be kept in view. If it is true that pure rectitude prescribes a system of things far too good for men as they are; it is not less true that mere expediency does not of itself tend to establish a system of things any better than that which exists. While absolute morality owes to expediency the checks which prevent it from rushing into utopian absurdities; expediency is indebted to absolute morality for all stimulus to improvement. Granted that we are chiefly interested in ascertaining what is _relatively right_; it still follows that we must first consider what is _absolutely right_; since the one conception presupposes the other. That is to say, though we must ever aim to do what is best for the present times, yet we must ever bear in mind what is abstractedly best; so that the changes we make may be _towards_ it, and not _away_ from it.’
By the word _absolute_ as thus applied, Mr. Spencer does not mean to imply a right and wrong existing apart from Humanity and its relations. Agreeing with Utilitarians in the belief that happiness is the end, and that the conduct called moral is simply the best means of attaining it, he of course does not assert that there is a morality which is absolute in the sense of being true out of relation to human existence. By absolute morality as distinguished from relative, he here means the mode of conduct which, under the conditions arising from social union, must be pursued to achieve the greatest welfare of each and all. He holds, that the laws of Life, physiologically considered, being fixed, it necessarily follows that when a number of individuals have to live in social union, which necessarily involves fixity of conditions in the shape of mutual interferences and limitations, there result certain fixed principles by which conduct must be restricted, before the greatest sum of happiness can be achieved. These principles constitute what Mr. Spencer distinguishes as absolute Morality; and the absolutely moral man is the man who conforms to these principles, not by external coercion nor self-coercion, but who acts them out spontaneously.
To be fully understood, this conception must be taken along with the general theory of Evolution. Mr. Spencer argues that all things whatever are inevitably tending towards equilibrium; and that consequently the progress of mankind cannot cease until there is equilibrium between the human constitution and the conditions of human existence. Or, as he argues in _First Principles_ (Second Edition, p. 512), ‘The adaptation of man’s nature to the conditions of his existence cannot cease until the internal forces which we know as feelings are in equilibrium with the external forces they encounter. And the establishment of this equilibrium, is the arrival at a state of human nature and social organization, such that the individual has no desires but those which may be satisfied without exceeding his proper sphere of action, while society maintains no restraints but those which the individual voluntarily respects. The progressive extension of the liberty of citizens, and the reciprocal removal of political restrictions, are the steps by which we advance towards this state. And the ultimate abolition of all limits to the freedom of each, save those imposed by the like freedom of all, must, result from the complete equilibration between man’s desires and the conduct necessitated by surrounding conditions.’
The conduct proper to such a state, which Mr. Spencer thus conceives to be the subject-matter of Moral Science, truly so-called, he proposes, in the Prospectus to his _System of Philosophy_, to treat under the following heads.
PERSONAL MORALS.–The principles of private conduct–physical, intellectual, moral, and religious–that follow from the conditions to complete individual life; or, what is the same thing, those modes of private action which must result from the eventual equilibration of internal desires and external needs.
JUSTICE.–The mutual limitation of men’s actions necessitated by their co-existence as units of a society–limitations, the perfect observance of which constitutes that state of equilibrium forming the goal of political progress.
NEGATIVE BENEFICENCE.–Those secondary limitations, similarly necessitated, which, though less important and not cognizable by law, are yet requisite to prevent mutual destruction of happiness in various indirect ways: in other words–those minor self-restraints dictated by what may be called passive sympathy.
POSITIVE BENEFICENCE.–Comprehending all modes of conduct, dictated by active sympathy, which imply pleasure in giving pleasure–modes of conduct that social adaptation has induced and must render ever more general; and which, in becoming universal, must fill to the full the possible measure of human happiness.
* * * * *
This completes the long succession of British moralists during the three last centuries. It has been possible, and even necessary, to present them thus in an unbroken line, because the insular movement in ethical philosophy has been hardly, if at all, affected by anything done abroad. In the earlier part of the modern period, little of any kind was done in ethics by the great continental thinkers. Descartes has only a few allusions to the subject; the ‘Ethica’ of Spinoza is chiefly a work of speculative philosophy; Leibnitz has no systematic treatment of moral questions. The case is very different; in the new German philosophy since the time of Kant; besides Kant himself, Fichte, Hegel, Schleiermacher, and many later and contemporary thinkers having devoted a large amount of attention to practical philosophy. But unless it be Kant–and he not to any great extent–none of these has influenced the later attempts at ethical speculation amongst ourselves: nor, again with the exception of Kant, are we as yet in a position properly to deal with them. One reason, for proceeding to expound the ethical system of the founder of the later German philosophy, without regard to his successors, lies in the fact that he stood, on the practical side, in as definite a relation to the English moralists of last century, as, in his speculative philosophy, to Locke and Hume.
IMMANUEL, KANT. [1724-1804.]
The ethical writings of Kant, in the order of their appearance, are–_Foundation for the Metaphysic of Morals_ (1785); _Critique of the Practical Reason_ (1788); _Metaphysic of Morals_ (1797, in two parts–(1) _Doctrine of Right_ or Jurisprudence, (2) _Doctrine of Virtue_ or Ethics proper). The third work contains the details of his system; the general theory is presented in the two others. Of these we select for analysis the earlier, containing, as it does, in less artificial form, an ampler discussion of the fundamental questions of morals; but towards the end it must be supplemented, in regard to certain characteristic doctrines, from the second, in some respects more developed, work.[26]
In the introduction to the Metaphysic of Morals, Kant distinguishes between the empirical and the rational mode of treating Ethics. He announces his intention to depart from the common plan of mixing up the two together, and to attempt for once to set forth the _pure_ moral philosophy that is implied even in the vulgar ideas of duty and moral law. Because a moral law means an absolute necessity laid on all rational beings whatever, its foundation is to be sought, not in human nature or circumstances, but _a priori_ in the conception of pure reason. The most universal precept founded on mere experience is only a practical rule, and never a moral law. A purely rational moral philosophy, or Metaphysic of Morals, will serve the double end of meeting a speculative requirement, and of furnishing the only true norm of practice. It investigates the idea and principles of a potentially pure Will, instead of the acts and conditions of human volition as known from psychology. Not a complete Metaphysic of Morals, however, (which would be a Critique of the pure Practical Reason), but merely a foundation for such will be given. The supreme principle of morality is to be established, apart from detailed application. First, common notions will be analyzed in order to get at this highest principle; and then, when the principle has been sought out, they will be returned upon by way of synthesis.
In the first of the three main sections of the work, he makes the passage from Common Rational Knowledge of Morals to Philosophical. Nothing in the world, he begins, can without qualification be called good, except _Will_. Qualities of temperament, like courage, &c., gifts of fortune, like wealth and power, are good only with reference to a good will. As to a good will, when it is really such, the circumstance that it can, or cannot, be executed does not matter; its value is independent of the utility or fruitlessness of it.
This idea of the absolute worth of mere Will, though it is allowed even by the vulgar understanding, he seeks to establish beyond dispute, by an argument from the natural _subjection_ of Will to Reason. In a being well-organized, if Conservation or Happiness were the grand aim, such subjection would be a great mistake. When Instinct could do the work far better and more surely, Reason should have been deprived of all practical function. Discontent, in fact, rather than happiness comes of pursuit of mere enjoyment by rational calculation; and to make light of the part contributed by Reason to happiness, is really to make out that it exists for a nobler purpose. But now, since Reason _is_ a practical faculty and governs the will, its function can only be to produce a Will good in itself. Such a Will, if not the only good, is certainly the highest; and happiness, unattainable by Reason as a primary aim, and subject in this life altogether to much limitation, is to be sought only in the contentment that arises from the attainment by Reason of its true aim, at the sacrifice often of many a natural inclination.
He proceeds to develop this conception of a Will in itself good and estimable, by dealing with the commonly received ideas of Duty. Leaving aside profitable actions that are plain violations of duty, and also actions conformed to duty, but, while not prompted directly by nature, done from some special inclination–in which case it is easy to distinguish whether the action is done from duty or from self-interest; he considers those more difficult cases where the same action is at once duty, and prompted by direct natural inclination. In all such, whether it be duty of self-preservation, of benevolence, of securing one’s own happiness (this last a duty, because discontent and the pressure of care may easily lead to the transgression of other duties), he lays it down that the action is not allowed to have true moral value, unless done in the abeyance or absence of the natural inclination prompting to it. A second position is, that the moral value of an action done from duty lies not in the intention of it, but in the maxim that determines it; not in the object, but in the _principle of Volition_. That is to say, in action done out of regard to duty, the will must be determined by its _formal a priori_ principle, not being determined by any _material a posteriori_ motive. A third position follows then from the other two; Duty is the necessity of an action out of respect for Law. Towards an object there may be inclination, and this inclination may be matter for approval or liking; but it is Law only–the ground and not the effect of Volition, bearing down inclination rather than serving it–that can inspire _Respect_. When inclination and motives are both excluded, nothing remains to determine Will, except Law objectively; and, subjectively, pure respect for a law of practice–_i.e._, the maxim to follow such a law, even at the sacrifice of every inclination. The conception of Law-in-itself alone determining the will, is, then, the surpassing good that is called moral, which exists already in a man before his action has any result. Conformity to Law in general, all special motive to follow any single law being excluded, remains as the one principle of Volition: I am never to act otherwise, than so as to be able also to wish that my maxim (_i.e._, my subjective principle of volition) should become a universal law. This is what he finds implied in the common notions of Duty.
Having illustrated at length this reading, in regard to the duty of keeping a promise, he contrasts, at the close of the section, the all but infallibility of common human reason in practice with its helplessness in speculation. Notwithstanding, it finds itself unable to settle the contending claims of Reason and Inclination, and so is driven to devise a practical philosophy, owing to the rise of a ‘Natural Dialectic’ or tendency to refine upon the strict laws of duty in order to make them more pleasant. But, as in the speculative region, the Dialectic cannot be properly got rid of without a complete Critique of Reason.
In Section II. the passage is made from the popular moral philosophy thus arising to the metaphysic of morals. He denies that the notion of duty that has been taken above from common sage is empirical. It is proved not to be such from the very assertions of philosophers that men always act from more or less refined self-love; assertions that are founded upon the difficulty of proving that acts most apparently conformed to duty are really such. The fact is, no act _can_ be proved by experience to be absolutely moral, _i.e._, done solely from regard to duty, to the exclusion of all inclination; and therefore to concede that morality and duty are ideas to be had from experience, is the surest way to get rid of them altogether. Duty, and respect for its law, are not to be preserved at all, unless Reason is allowed to lay _absolute_ injunctions on the will, whatever experience says of their non-execution. How, indeed, is experience to disclose a moral law, that, in applying to all rational beings as well as men, and to men only as rational, must originate _a priori_ in pure (practical) Reason? Instead of yielding the principles of morality, empirical examples of moral conduct have rather to be judged by these.
All supreme principles of morality, that are genuine, must rest on pure Reason solely; and the mistake of the popular practical philosophies in vogue, one and all–whether advancing as their principle a special determination of human nature, or Perfection, or Happiness, or Moral Feeling, or Fear of God, or a little of this and a little of that–is that there has been no previous consideration whether the principles of morality are to be sought for in our empirical knowledge of human nature at all. Such consideration would have shown them to be altogether _a priori_, and would have appeared as a _pure_ practical philosophy or metaphysic of morals (upon the completion of which any popularizing might have waited), kept free from admixture of Anthropology, Theology, Physics, Hyperphysics, &c., and setting forth the conception of Duty as purely rational, without the confusion of empirical motives. To a metaphysic of this kind, Kant is now to ascend from the popular philosophy, with its stock-in-trade of single instances, following out the practical faculty of Reason from the general rules determining it, to the point where the conception of Duty emerges.
While things in nature work according to laws, rational beings alone can act according to a conceived idea of laws, _i.e._, to principles. This is to have a Will, or, what is the same, Practical Reason, reason being required in deducing actions from laws. If the Will follows Reason exactly and without fail, actions objectively necessary are necessary also subjectively; if, through subjective conditions (inclinations, &c.), the Will does not follow Reason inevitably, objectively necessary actions become subjectively contingent, and towards the objective laws the attitude of the will is no longer unfailing choice, but _constraint_. A constraining objective principle mentally represented, is a _command_; its formula is called _Imperative_, for which the expression is _Ought_. A will perfectly good–_i.e._, subjectively determined to follow the objective laws of good as soon as conceived–knows no Ought. Imperatives are only for an imperfect, such as is the human, will. _Hypothetical_ Imperatives represent the practical necessity of an action as a means to an end, being _problematical_ or _assertory_ principles, according as the end is possible or real. _Categorical_ Imperatives represent an action as objectively necessary for itself, and count as _apodeictical_ principles.
To the endless number of possible aims of human action correspond as many Imperatives, directing merely how they are to be attained, without any question of their value; these are Imperatives of _Fitness_. To one real aim, existing necessarily for all rational beings, viz., Happiness, corresponds the Imperative of _Prudence_ (in the narrow sense), being assertory while hypothetical. The categorical Imperative, enjoining a mode of action for itself, and concerned about the form and principle of it, not its nature and result, is the Imperative of _Morality_. These various kinds of Imperatives, as influencing the will, may be distinguished as _Rules_ (of fitness), _Counsels_ (of prudence), _Commands_ or _Laws_ (of morality); also as _technical, pragmatical, moral_.
Now, as to the question of the possibility of these different Imperatives–how they can be supposed able to influence or act upon the Will–there is in the first case no difficulty; in wishing an end it is necessarily implied that we wish the indispensable means, when this is in our power. In like manner, the Imperatives of Prudence are also _analytical_ in character (_i.e._, given by implication), if only it were possible to have a definite idea of the end sought, viz., happiness. But, in fact, with the elements of happiness to be got from experience at the same time that the idea requires an absolute whole, or maximum, of satisfaction now and at every future moment, no finite being can know precisely what he wants, or what may be the effect of any of his wishes. Action, on fixed principles, with a view to happiness, is, therefore, not possible; and one can only follow empirical directions, about Diet, Frugality, Politeness, &c., seen on the whole to promote it. Although, however, there is no certainty of causing happiness, and the Imperatives with reference thereto are mere counsels, they retain their character of analytical propositions, and their action on the will is not less possible than in the former case.
To prove the possibility of the Imperative of morality is more difficult. As categorical, it presupposes nothing else to rest its necessity upon; while by way of experience, it can never be made out to be more than a prudential precept–_i.e._, a pragmatic or hypothetic principle. Its possibility must therefore be established _a priori_. But the difficulty will then appear no matter of wonder, when it is remembered (from the Critique of Pure Reason) how hard it is to establish synthetic propositions _a priori_.
The question of the possibility, however, meanwhile postponed, the mere conception of a categorical Imperative is found to yield the one formula that can express it, from its not being dependent, like a hypothetical Imperative, on any external condition. Besides the Law (or objective principle of conduct), the only thing implied in the Imperative being the necessity laid upon the _Maxim_ (or subjective principle) to conform to the law–a law limited by no condition; there is nothing for the maxim to be conformed to but the universality of a law in general, and it is the conformity alone that properly constitutes the Imperative necessary. The Imperative is thus single, and runs: _Act according to that maxim only which you can wish at the same time to become a_ _universal law_. Or, since universality of law as determining effects is what we understand by nature: _Act as if the maxim of your action ought by your will to become the universal law of nature_.
Taking cases of duties according to the common divisions of duties to ourselves and to others, perfect and imperfect, he proceeds to show that they may be all deduced from the single Imperative; the question of the _reality_ of duty, which is the same as the establishment of the possibility of the Imperative as a synthetic practical proposition _a priori_, at present altogether apart. Suppose a man tempted to commit suicide, with the view of bettering his evil condition; but it is contradictory that the very principle of self-conservation should lead to self-destruction, and such a maxim of conduct cannot therefore become a universal law of nature. Next, the case of a man borrowing without meaning to repay, has only to be turned into a universal law, and the thing becomes impossible; nobody would lend. Again, to neglect a talent that is generally useful for mere ease and self-gratification, can indeed be supposed a universal practice, but can never be wished to be. Finally, to refuse help to others universally might not ruin the race, but can be wished by no one that knows how soon he must himself need assistance. Now, the rule was, that a maxim of conduct should be _wished_ to become the universal law. In the last two cases, it cannot be wished; in the others, the maxim cannot even be conceived in universal form. Thus, two grades of duty, one admitting of merit, the other so strict as to be irremissible, are established on the general principle. The principle is moreover confirmed in the case of transgression of duty: the transgressor by no means wishes to have his act turned into a general rule, but only seeks special and temporary exemption from a law allowed by himself to be universal.
Notwithstanding this force and ease of application, a categorical Imperative has not yet been proved _a priori_ actually existent; and it was allowed that it could not be proved empirically, elements of inclination, interest, &c., being inconsistent with morality. The real question is this: Is it a necessary law that all rational beings should act on maxims that they can wish, to become universal laws? If so, this must be bound up with the very notion of the will of a rational being; the relation of the will to itself being to be determined _a priori_ by pure Reason. The Will is considered as a power of self-determination to act according to certain laws as represented to the mind, existing only in rational beings. And, if the objective ground of self-determination, or _End_, is supplied by mere Reason, it must be the same for all rational beings. _Ends_ may be divided into _Subjective_, resting upon individual _Impulses_ or subjective grounds of desire; and _Objective_, depending on _Motives_ or objective grounds of Volition valid for all rational beings. The principles of action are, in the one case, _Material_, and, in the other, _Formal, i.e._, abstracted from all subjective ends. Material ends, as relative, beget only hypothetical Imperatives. But, supposed some thing, the presence of which in itself has an absolute value, and which, as End-in-self, can be a ground of fixed laws; there, and there only, can be the ground of a possible categorical Imperative, or Law of Practice.
Now, such an End-in-self (not a thing with merely conditional value,–a means to be used arbitrarily) is Man and every rational being, as _Person_. There is no other objective end with absolute value that can supply to the Reason the supreme practical principle requisite for turning subjective principles of action into objective principles of volition. Rational Nature as End-in-self is a subjective principle to a man having this conception of his own being, but becomes objective when every rational being has the same from the same ground in Reason. Hence a new form (the second) to the practical Imperative: _Act so as to use Humanity (Human Nature) as well in your own person, as in the person of another, ever as end also, and never merely as means_.
To this new formula, the old examples are easily squared. Suicide is using one’s person as a mere means to a tolerable existence; breaking faith to others is using them as means, not as ends-in-self; neglect of self-cultivation is the not furthering human nature as end-in-self in one’s own person; withholding help is refusing to further Humanity as end-in-self through the medium of the aims of others. [In a note he denies that ‘the trivial, Do to others as you would,’ &c., is a full expression of the law of duty: it contains the ground, neither of duties to self; nor of duties of benevolence to others, for many would forego receiving good on conditions of not conferring it; nor of the duty of retribution, for the malefactor could turn it against his judge, &c.]
The universality of this principle of Human and Rational Nature as End-in-self, as also its character of objective end limiting merely subjective ends, prove that its source is in pure Reason. Objectively, the ground of all practical legislation is Rule and the Form of Universality that enables rule to be Law (of Nature), according to principle first (in its double form); subjectively, it is End, the subject of all ends being every rational being as End-in-self, according to principle second. Hence follows the third practical principle of the Will, as supreme condition of its agreement with universal practical Reason–_the idea of the Will of every rational being as a Will that legislates universally_. The Will, if subject to law, has first itself imposed it.
This new idea–of the Will of every rational being as universally legislative–is what, in the implication of the Categorical Imperative, specifically marks it off from any Hypothetical: Interest is seen to be quite incompatible with Duty, if Duty is Volition of this kind. A will merely subject to laws can be bound to them by interest; not so a will itself legislating supremely, for that would imply another law to keep the interest of self-love from trenching upon the validity of the universal law. Illustration is not needed to prove that a Categorical Imperative, or law for the will of every rational being, if it exist at all, cannot exclude Interest and be unconditional, except as enjoining everything to be done from the maxim of a will that in legislating universally can have itself for object. This is the point that has been always missed, that the laws of duty shall be at once self-imposed and yet universal. Subjection to a law not springing from one’s own will implies interest or constraint, and constitutes a certain necessity of action, but never makes Duty. Be the interest one’s own or another’s, the Imperative is conditional only. Kant’s principle is the _Autonomy of the Will_; every other its _Heteronomy_.
The new point of view opens up the very fruitful conception of an _Empire_ or _Realm of Ends_. As a Realm is the systematic union of rational beings by means of common laws, so the ends determined by the laws may, abstractly viewed, be taken to form a systematic whole. Rational beings, as subject to a law requiring them to treat themselves and others as ends and never merely as means, enter into a systematic union by means of common objective laws, _i.e._ into an (ideal) Empire or Realm of Ends, from the laws being concerned about the mutual relations of rational beings as Ends and Means. In this Realm, a rational being is either Head or Member: Head, if legislating universally and with complete independence; Member, if also universally, but at the same time subject to the laws. When now the maxim of the will does not by nature accord necessarily with the demand of the objective principle–that the will through its maxim be able to regard itself at the same time as legislating; universally–a practical constraint is exerted by the principle, which is _Duty_, lying on every Member in the Realm of Ends (not on the Head) alike. This necessity of practice reposes, not on feeling, impulse, or inclination, but on the relation between rational beings arising from the fact that each, as End-in-self, legislates universally. The Reason gives a universal application to every maxim of the Will; not from any motive of interest, but from the idea of the _Dignity_ of a rational being that follows no law that it does not itself at the same time give.
Everything in the Realm of Ends has either a _Price_ or a _Dignity_. Skill, Diligence, &c., bearing on human likings and needs, have a _Market-price_; Qualities like Wit, Fancy, &c., appealing to Taste or Emotional Satisfaction, have an _Affection-price_. But Morality, the only way of being End-in-self, and legislating member in the Realm of Ends, has an intrinsic _Worth or Dignity_, calculable in nothing else. Its worth is not in results, but in dispositions of Will; its actions need neither recommendation from a subjective disposition or taste, nor prompting from immediate tendency or feeling. Being laid on the Will by Reason, they make the Will, in the execution, the object of an immediate _Respect_, testifying to a Dignity beyond all price. The grounds of these lofty claims in moral goodness and virtue are the participation by a rational being in the universal legislation, fitness to be a member in a possible Realm of Ends, subjection only to self-imposed laws. Nothing having value but as the law confers it, an unconditional, incomparable worth attaches to the giving of the law, and _Respect_ is the only word that expresses a rational being’s appreciation of that. Autonomy is thus the foundation of the dignity of human and of all rational nature.
The three different expressions that have been given to the one general principle of morality imply each the others, and differ merely in their mode of presenting one idea of the Reason to the mind. _Universal application of the Maxim of Conduct, as if it were a law of nature_, is the formula of the Will as absolutely good; _universal prohibition against the use of rational beings ever as means only_, has reference to the fact that a good will in a rational being is an altogether independent and ultimate End, an End-in-self in all; _universal legislation of each for all_ recognizes the prerogative or special dignity of rational beings, that they necessarily take their maxims from the point of view of all, and must regard themselves, being Ends-in-self, as members in a Realm of Ends (analogous to the Realm, or Kingdom of Nature), which, though merely an ideal and possible conception, none the less really imposes an imperative upon action. _Morality_, he concludes, is _the relation of actions to the Autonomy of the Will_, _i.e._, to possible universal legislation through its maxims. Actions that can co-exist with this autonomy are _allowed_; all others are not. A will, whose maxims necessarily accord with the laws of Autonomy, is holy, or absolutely good; the dependence of a will not thus absolutely good is _Obligation_. The objective necessity of an action from obligation is _Duty. Subjection to law_ is not the only element in duty; the fact of the law being self-imposed gives _Dignity_.
The Autonomy of the will is its being a law to itself, without respect to the objects of volition; the principle of autonomy is to choose only in such a way as that the maxims of choice are conceived at the same time as a universal law. This rule cannot be proved analytically to be an Imperative, absolutely binding on every will; as a synthetic proposition it requires, besides a knowledge of the objects, a critique of the subject, _i.e._, pure practical Reason, before, in its apodeictic character, it can be proved completely _a priori_. Still the mere analysis of moral conceptions has sufficed to prove it the sole principle of morals, because this principle is seen to be a categorical Imperative, and a categorical Imperative enjoins neither more nor less than this Autonomy. If, then, Autonomy of Will is the supreme principle, Heteronomy is the source of all ungenuine principles, of Morality. Heteronomy is whenever the Will does not give itself laws, but some object, in relation to the Will, gives them. There is then never more than a hypothetical Imperative: I am to do something because I wish something else.
There follows a division and criticism of the various possible principles of morality that can be set up on the assumption of Heteronomy, and that have been put forward by human Reason in default of the required Critique of its pure use. Such, are either _Empirical_ or _Rational_. The Empirical, embodying the principle of _Happiness_, are founded on (1) _physical_ or (2) _moral feeling_; the Rational, embodying the principle of _perfection_, on (1) the rational conception of it as a possible result, or (2) the conception of an independent perfection (the Will of God), as the determining cause of the will. The Empirical principles are altogether to be rejected, because they can give no universal law for all rational beings; of the Rational principles, the first, though setting up an empty and indefinite conception, has the merit of at least making an appeal from sense to pure reason. But the fatal objection to all four is their implying Heteronomy; no imperative founded on them can utter moral, _i.e._, categorical commands.
That the absolutely good Will must be autonomous–_i.e._, without any kind of motive or interest, lay Commands on itself that are at the same time fit to be laws for all rational beings, appears, then, from a deeper consideration of even the popular conceptions of morality. But now the question can no longer be put off: Is Morality, of which this is the only conception, a reality or a phantom? All the different expressions given to the Categorical Imperatives are synthetic practical propositions _a priori_; they postulate a possible synthetic use of the pure practical reason. Is there, and how is there, such a possible synthetic use? This is the question (the same as the other) that Kant proceeds to answer in the Third Section, by giving, in default of a complete Critique of the faculty, as much as is necessary for the purpose. But here, since he afterwards undertook the full Critique, it is better to stop the analysis of the earlier work, and summarily draw upon both for the remainder of the argument, and the rather because some important points have to be added that occur only in the later treatise. The foregoing is a sufficient example of his method of treatment.
The synthetic use of the pure practical reason, in the Categorical Imperative, is legitimized; Autonomy of the Will is explained; Duty is shown to be no phantom–through the conception of Freedom of Will, properly understood. Theoretically (speculatively), Freedom is undemonstrable; being eternally met, in one of the (cosmological) Antinomies of the Pure Reason, by the counter-assertion that everything in the universe takes place according to unchanging laws of nature. Even theoretically, however, Freedom is not inconceivable, and morally we become certain of it; for we are conscious of the ‘ought’ of duty, and with the ‘ought’ there must go a ‘can.’ It is not, however, as Phenomenon or Sensible Ens that a man ‘can,’ is free, has an absolute initiative; all phenomena or Sensible Entia, being in space and time, are subject to the Natural Law of Causality. But man is also Noumenon, Thing-in-self, Intelligible Ens; and as such, being free from conditions of time and space, stands outside of the sequence of Nature. Now, the Noumenon or Ens of the Reason (he assumes) stands higher than, or has a value above, the Phenomenon or Sensible Ens (as much as Reason stands higher than Sense and Inclination); accordingly, while it is only man as Noumenon that ‘can,’ it is to man as Phenomenon that the ‘ought’ is properly addressed; it is upon man as Phenomenon that the law of Duty, prescribed, with perfect freedom from motive, by Man as Noumenon, is laid.
_Freedom of Will_ in Man as Rational End or Thing-in-self is thus the great Postulate of the pure Practical Reason; we can be sure of the fact (although it must always remain speculatively undemonstrable), because else there could be no explanation of the Categorical Imperative of Duty. But inasmuch as the Practical Reason, besides enjoining a law of Duty, must provide also a final end of action in the idea of an unconditioned Supreme Good, it contains also two other Postulates: Man being a sentient as well as a rational being, Happiness as well as Perfect Virtue or Moral Perfection must enter into the Summum Bonum (not, one of them to the exclusion of the other, as the Stoics and Epicureans, in different senses, declared). Now, since there is no such necessary conjunction of the two in nature, it must be sought otherwise. It is found in postulating _Immortality_ and _God_.
_Immortality_ is required to render possible the attainment of moral perfection. Virtue out of _respect_ for law, with a constant tendency to fall away, is all that is attainable in life. The _Holiness_, or complete accommodation of the will to the Moral Law, implied in the Summum Bonum, can be attained to only in the course of an infinite progression; which means personal Immortality. [As in the former case, the _speculative_ impossibility of proving the immateriality, &c., of the supernatural soul is not here overcome; but Immortality is _morally_ certain, being demanded by the Practical Reason.]
Moral perfection thus provided for, _God_ must be postulated in order to find the ground of the required conjunction of Felicity. Happiness is the condition of the rational being in whose whole existence everything goes according to wish and will; and this is not the condition of man, for in him observance of the moral law is not conjoined with power of disposal over the laws of nature. But, as Practical Reason demands the conjunction, it is to be found only in a being who is the author at once of Nature and of the Moral Law; and this is God. [The same remark once more applies, that here what is obtained is a _moral_ certainty of the existence of the Deity: the negative result of the Critique of the Pure _(speculative)_ Reason abides what it was.]
We may now attempt to summarize this abstruse Ethical theory of Kant.
I—The STANDARD of morally good action (or rather Will), as expressed in the different forms of the Categorical Imperative, is the possibility of its being universally extended as a law for all rational beings. His meaning comes out still better in the obverse statement: The action is bad that _cannot be_, or at least _cannot be wished to lie_, turned unto a universal law.
II.–Kant would expressly demur to being questioned as to his PSYCHOLOGY of Ethics; since he puts his own theory in express opposition to every other founded upon any empirical view of the mental constitution. Nevertheless, we may extract some kind of answers to the usual queries.
The Faculty is the (pure Practical) Reason. The apprehension of what is morally right is entirely an affair of Reason; the only element of Feeling is an added Sentiment of Awe or Respect for the law that Reason imposes, this being a law, not only for me who impose it on myself, but at the same time for every rational agent. The Pure Reason, which means with Kant the Faculty of Principles, is _Speculative_ or _Practical_. As _Speculative_, it _requires_ us to bring our knowledge (of the understanding) to certain higher unconditioned unities (Soul, Cosmos, God); but there is error if these are themselves regarded as facts of knowledge. As _Practical_, it sets up an unconditional law of Duty in Action (unconditioned by motives); and in this and in the related conception of the Summum Bonum is contained a moral certainty of the Immortality (of the soul), Freedom (in the midst of Natural Necessity), and of God as existent.
As to the point of Free-will, nothing more need be said.
Disinterested Sentiment, as _sentiment_, is very little regarded: disinterested _action_ is required with such rigour that every act or disposition is made to lose its character as moral, according as any element of interested feeling of any kind enters into it. Kant obliterates the line between Duty and Virtue, by making a duty of every virtue; at least he conceives clearly that there is no Virtue in doing what we are strongly prompted to by inclination–that virtue must involve self-sacrifice.
III.–His position with respect to Happiness is peculiar. Happiness is not the end of action: the end of action is rather the self-assertion of the rational faculty over the lower man.
If the constituents of Happiness could be known–and they cannot be–there would be no _morality_, but only _prudence_ in the pursuit of them. To promote our own happiness is indeed a duty, but in order to keep us from neglecting our other duties.
Nevertheless, he conceives it necessary that there should be an ultimate equation of Virtue and Happiness; and the need of Happiness he then expressly connects with the sensuous side of our being.
IV.–His MORAL CODE may here be shortly presented from the second part of his latest work, where it is fully given. Distinguishing _Moral_ Duties or (as he calls them) ‘_Virtue-duties,’_ left to be enforced internally by Conscience, from _Legal_ Duties _(Rechtspflichten)_, externally enforced, he divides them into two classes–(A) Duties to _Self_; (B) Duties to _Others_.
(A) Duties to _Self_. These have regard to the one _private_ Aim or End that a man can make a duty of, viz., his own _Perfection_; for his own _Happiness_, being provided for by a natural propensity or inclination, is to himself no duty. They are (a) _perfect_ (negative or restrictive) as directed to mere Self-Conservation; (b) _imperfect_ (positive or extensive) as directed to the Advancement or Perfecting of one’s being. The _perfect_ are concerned about Self (a), as an _Animal_ creature, and then are directed against–(1) _Self-destruction_, (2) _Sexual Excess_, (3) _Intemperance in Eating and Drinking_; (B) as a _Moral_ creature, and then are directed against–(1) _Lying_, (2) _Avarice_, (3) _Servility_. The _imperfect_ have reference to (a) _physical_, (B) _moral_ advancement or perfection (subjectively. _Purity_ or _Holiness_).
(B) Duties to _Others_. These have regard to the only Aim or End of others that a man can make a duty of, viz., their _Happiness_; for their _Perfection_ can be promoted only by themselves. Duties to others _as men_ are metaphysically deducible; and application to _special conditions_ of men is to be made empirically. They include (a) Duties of LOVE, involving _Merit_ or _Desert (i.e._, return from the objects of them) in the performance: (1) _Beneficence_, (2) _Gratitude_, (3) _Fellow-feeling_; (b) Duties of RESPECT, absolutely _due_ to others as men; the opposites are the _vices_: (1) _Haughtiness_, (2) _Slander_, (3) _Scornfulness_. In _Friendship_, Love and Respect are combined in the highest degree. Lastly, he notes _Social_ duties in human intercourse _(Affability_, &c.)–these being _outworks_ of morality.
He allows no special Duties to God, or Inferior Creatures, beyond what is contained in Moral Perfection as Duty to Self.
V.–The conception of Law enters largely into Kant’s theory of morals, but in a sense purely transcendental, and not as subjecting or assimilating morality to positive political institution. The _Legality_ of external _actions_, as well as the _Morality_ of internal _dispositions_, is determined by reference to the one universal moral Imperative. The principle underlying all _legal_ or _jural_ (as opposed to moral or ethical) provisions, is the necessity of uniting in a universal law of freedom the spontaneity of each with the spontaneity of all the others: individual freedom and freedom of all must be made to subsist together in a universal law.
VI.–With Kant, Religion and Morality are very closely connected, or, in a sense, even identified; but the alliance is not at the expense of Morality. So far from making this dependent on Religion, he can find nothing but the moral conviction whereon to establish the religious doctrines of Immortality and the Existence of God; while, in a special work, he declares further that Religion consists merely in the practice of Morality as a system of divine commands, and claims to judge of all religious institutions and dogmas by the moral consciousness. Besides, the Postulates themselves, in which the passage to Religion is made, are not all equally imperative,–Freedom, as the ground of the fact of Duty, being more urgently demanded than others; and he even goes so far as to make the allowance, that whoever has sufficient moral strength to fulfil the Law of Reason without them, is not required to subscribe to them.
The modern French school, that has arisen in this century under the combined influence of the Scotch and the German philosophy, has bestowed some attention on Ethics. We end by noticing under it Cousin and Jouffroy.
VICTOR COUSIN. [1792-1867.]
The analysis of Cousin’s ethical views is made upon his historical lectures _Sur les Idees du Vrai, du Beau et du Bien_, as delivered in 1817-18. They contain a dogmatic exposition of his own opinions, beginning at the 20th lecture; the three preceding lectures, in the section of the whole course devoted to the Good, being taken up with the preliminary review of other opinions required for his eclectical purpose.
He determines to consider, by way of psychological analysis, the ideas and sentiments of every kind called up by the spectacle of human actions; and first he notes actions that please and displease the senses, or in some way affect our interest: those that are agreeable and useful we naturally choose, avoiding the opposites, and in this we are _prudent_. But there is another set of actions, having no reference to our own personal interest, which yet we qualify as good or bad. When an armed robber kills and spoils a defenceless man, we, though beholding the sight in safety, are at once stirred up to disinterested horror and indignation. This is no mere passing sentiment, but includes a two-fold judgment, pronounced then and ever after; that the action is in itself bad, and that it ought not to be committed. Still farther, our anger implies that the object of it is conscious of the evil and the obligation, and is therefore responsible; wherein again is implied that he is a free agent. And, finally, demanding as we do that he should be punished, we pass what has been called a judgment of merit and demerit, which is built upon an idea in our minds of a supreme law, joining happiness to virtue and misfortune to crime.
The analysis thus far he claims to be strictly scientific; he now proceeds to vary the case, taking actions of our own. I am supposed entrusted by a dying friend with a deposit for another, and a struggle ensues between interest and probity as to whether I should pay it. If interest conquers, remorse ensues. He paints the state of remorse, and analyzes it into the same elements as before, the idea of _good_ and _evil_, of an _obligatory law_, of _liberty_, of _merit_ and _demerit_; it thus includes the whole phenomenon of morality. The exactly opposite state that follows upon the victory of probity, is proved to imply the same facts.
The Moral Sentiment, so striking in its character, has by some been supposed the foundation of all morality, but in point of fact it is itself constituted by these various judgments. Now that they are known to stand as its elements, he goes on to subject each to a stricter analysis, taking first the judgment of _good_ and _evil_, which is at the bottom of all the rest. It lies in the original constitution of human nature, being simple and indecomposable, like the judgment of the True and the Beautiful. It is absolute, and cannot be withheld in presence of certain acts; but it only declares, and does not constitute, good and evil, these being real and independent qualities of actions. Applied at first to special cases, the judgment of good gives birth to general principles that become rules for judging other actions. Like other sciences, morality has its axioms, justly called moral truths; if it is good to keep an oath, it is also true, the oath being made with no other purpose than to be kept. Faithful guarding as much belongs to the idea of a deposit, as the equality between its three angles and two right angles to the idea of a triangle. By no caprice or effort of will can a moral verity be made in the smallest degree other than it is.
But, he goes on, a moral verity is not simply to be believed; it must also be practised, and this is _obligation_, the second of the elements of moral sentiment. Obligation, like moral truth, on which it rests, is absolute, immutable, universal. Kant even went so far as to make it the principle of our morality; but this was subjectivizing good, as he had subjectivized truth. Before there is an obligation to act, there must be an intrinsic goodness in the action; the real first truth of morality is justics, _i.e._, the essential distinction of good and evil. It is justice, therefore, and not duty, that strictly deserves the name of a principle.
The next element is _liberty_. Obligation implies the faculty of resisting desire, passion, &c., else there would be a contradiction in human nature. But the truest proof of liberty is to be sought in the constant testimony of consciousness, that, in wishing this or that, I am equally able to will the contrary. He distinguishes between the power of willing and the power of executing; also between will and desire, or passion. In the conflict between will and the tyranny of desire lies liberty; and the aim of the conflict is the fulfilment of duty. For the will is never so free, never so much itself, as when yielding to the law of duty. Persons are distinguished from Things in having responsibility, dignity, intrinsic value. Because there is in me a being worthy of respect, I am bound in duty to respect myself, and I have the _right_ to be respected by you. My duty (he means, of course, what I owe to self) is the exact measure of my right. The character of being a _person_ is inviolable, is the foundation of property, is inalienable by self or others, and so forth.
He passes to the last element of the phenomenon of morality, the judgement of _merit_ and _demerit_. The judgement follows, as the agent is supposed free, and it is not affected by lapse of time. It depends also essentially on the idea that the agent knows good from evil. Upon itself follow the notions of reward and punishment. Merit is the natural right to be rewarded; demerit, paradox as it may appear, is the _right_ to be punished. A criminal would claim to be punished, if he could comprehend the absolute necessity of expiation; and are there not real cases of such criminals? But as there can be merit without actual reward, so to be rewarded does not constitute merit.
If good, he continues, is good in itself, and ought to be done without regard to consequences, it is no less true that the consequences of good cannot fail to be happy. Virtue without happiness and crime without misfortune are a contradiction, a disorder; which are hardly met with in the world, even as it is, or, where in a few cases they are found, are sure to be righted in the end by eternal justice. The sacrifice supposed in virtue, if generously accepted and courageously undergone, has to be recompensed in respect of the amount of happiness sacrificed.
Once more, he takes up the _Sentiment_, which is the general echo of all the elements of the phenomenon. Its end is to make the mind sensible of the bond between virtue and happiness; it is the direct and vivid application of the law of merit. Again, he touches the states of moral satisfaction and remorse, speaks of our sympathy with the moral goodness of others and our benevolent feeling that arises towards them–emotions all, but covering up judgments; and this is the end of his detailed analysis of the actual facts of the case. But he still goes on to sum up in exact expressions the foregoing results, and he claims especially to have overlooked neither the part played by Reason, nor the function of Sentiment. The rational character of the idea of good gives morality its firm foundation; the lively sentiment helps to lighten the often heavy burden of duty, and stirs up to the most heroic deeds. Self-interest too is not denied its place. In this connexion, led again to allude to the happiness appointed to virtue here or at least hereafter, he allows that God may be regarded as the fountain of morality, but only in the sense that his will is the expression of his eternal wisdom and justice. Religion crowns morality, but morality is based upon itself. The rest of the lecture is in praise of Eclecticism, and advocates consideration of all the facts involved in morality, as against exclusive theories founded upon only some of the facts.
Lectures 21st and 22nd, compressed into one (Ed. 1846) contain the application of the foregoing principles, and the answer to the question, what our duties are. Duty being absolute, truth becomes obligatory, and absolute truth being known by the reason only, to obey the law of duty is to obey reason. But what actions are conformable to reason? The characteristic of reason he takes to be Universality, and this will appear in the motives of actions, since it is these that confer on actions their morality. Accordingly, the sign whereby to discover whether an action is duty, is, if its motive when generalized appear to the reason to be a maxim of universal legislation for all free and intelligent beings. This, the norm set up by Kant, as certainly discovers what is and is not duty, as the syllogism detects the error and truth of an argument.
To obey reason is, then, the first duty, at the root of all others, and itself resting directly upon the relation between liberty and reason; in a sense, to remain reasonable is the sole duty. But it assumes special forms amid the diversity of human relations. He first considers the relations wherein we stand to ourselves and the corresponding duties. That there should be any such duties is at first sight strange, seeing we belong to ourselves; but this is not the same as having complete power over ourselves. Possessing liberty, we must not abdicate it by yielding to passions, and treat ourselves as if there were nothing in us that merits respect. We are to distinguish between what is peculiar to each of us, and what we share with humanity. Individual peculiarities are things indifferent, but the liberty and intelligence that constitute us persons, rather than individuals, demand to be respected even by ourselves. There is an obligation of self-respect imposed upon us as moral persons that was not established, and is not to be destroyed, by us. As special cases of this respect of the moral person in us, he cites (1) the duty of _self-control_ against anger or melancholy, not for their pernicious consequences, but as trenching upon the moral dignity of liberty and intelligence; (2) the duty of _prudence_, meaning providence in all things, which regulates courage, enjoins temperance, is, as the ancients said, the mother of all the virtues,–in short, the government of liberty by reason; (3) _veracity_; (4) duty towards the _body_; (5) duty of _perfecting_ (and not merely keeping intact) the intelligence, liberty, and sensibility that constitute us moral beings.
But the same liberty and intelligence that constitute me a moral person, and need thus to be respected even by myself, exist also in others, conferring rights on them, and imposing new duties of respect on me relatively to them. To their intelligence I owe _Truth_; their liberty I am bound to respect, sometimes even to the extent of not hindering them from making a wrong use of it. I must respect also their affections (family, &c.) which form part of themselves; their bodies; their goods, whether acquired by labour or heritage. All these duties are summed up in the one great duty of _Justice_ or respect for the rights of others; of which the greatest violation is slavery.
The whole of duty towards others is not however comprehended in justice. Conscience complains, if we have only not done injustice to one in suffering. There is a new class of duties–_consolation, charity, sacrifice_–to which indeed correspond no rights, and which therefore are not so obligatory as justice, but which cannot be said not to be obligatory. From their nature, they cannot be reduced to an exact formula; their beauty lies in liberty. But in charity, he adds, there is also a danger, from its effacing, to a certain extent, the moral personality of the object of it. In acting upon others, we risk interfering with their natural rights; charity is therefore to be proportioned to the liberty and reason of the person benefited, and is never to be made the means of usurping power over another.
Justice and Charity are the two elements composing social morality. But what is social? and on what is Society founded, existing as it does everywhere, and making man to be what he is? Into the hopeless question of its origin he refuses to enter; its present state is to be studied by the light of the knowledge of human nature. Its invariable foundations are (1) the need we have of each other, and our social instincts, (2) the lasting and indestructible idea and sentiment of right and justice. The need and instinct, of which he finds many proofs, begin society; justice crowns the work. The least consideration of the relations of man to man, suggest the essential principles of Society–justice, liberty, equality, government, punishment. Into each of these he enters. Liberty is made out to be assured and developed in society, instead of diminished. Equality is established upon the character of moral personality, which admits of no degree. The need of some repression upon liberty, where the liberty of others is trenched upon, conducts to the idea of Government–a disinterested third party armed with the necessary power to assure and defend the liberty of all. To government is to be ascribed, first its inseparable function of protecting the common liberty (without unnecessary repression), and next, beneficent action, corresponding to the duty of charity. It requires, for its guidance, a rule superior to itself, i.e., law, the expression of universal and absolute justice. Here follows the usual distinction of positive and natural law. The sanction of law is punishment; the right of punishing, as was seen, depending on the idea of demerit. Punishment is not mere vengeance, but the expiation by the criminal of violated justice; it is to be measured therefore chiefly by the demerit and not by the injury only. Whether, in punishing, allowance should be made for correction and amelioration, is to put the same case over again of charity coming in after justice.
Here the philosopher stops on the threshold of the special science of politics. But already the fixed and invariable principles of society and government have been given, and, even in the relative sphere of politics, the rule still holds that all forms and institutions are to be moulded as far as possible on the eternal principles supplied by philosophy. The following is a summary of Cousin’s views:–
I.–The Standard is the judgment of good or evil in actions. Cousin holds that good and evil are qualities of actions independent of our judgment, and having a sort of objective existence.
II.–The Moral Faculty he analyzes into four judgments: (1) good and evil; (2) obligation; (3) freedom of the will; and (4) merit and demerit. The moral sentiment is the emotions connected with those judgments, and chiefly the feeling connected with the idea of merit. [This analysis is obviously redundant. ‘Good’ and ‘evil’ apply to many things outside ethics, and to be at all appropriate, they must be qualified as _moral_ (i.e., _obligatory_) good and evil. The connexion between obligation and demerit has been previously explained.]
III.–In regard to the Summum Bonum, Cousin considers that virtue must bring happiness here or hereafter, and vice, misery.
IV.–He accepts the criterion of duties set forth by Kant. He argues for the existence of duties towards ourselves.
V. and VI. require no remark.
THEODORE SIMON JOUFFROY. [1796-1842.]
In the Second Lecture of his unfinished _Cours de Droit Naturel_, Jouffroy gives a condensed exposition of the Moral Facts of human nature from his own point of view.
What distinguishes, he says, one being from another, is its Organization; and as having a special nature, every creature has a special end. Its end or destination is its good, or its good consists in the accomplishment of its end. Further, to have an end implies the possession of faculties wherewith to attain it; and all this is applicable also to man. In man, as in other creatures, from the very first, his nature tends to its end, by means of purely instinctive movements, which may be called primitive and instinctive tendencies of human nature; later they are called passions. Along with these tendencies, and under their influence, the intellectual faculties also awake and seek to procure for them satisfaction. The faculties work, however, at first, in an indeterminate fashion, and only by meeting obstacles are driven to the concentration necessary to attain the ends. He illustrates this by the case of the intellectual faculty seeking to satisfy the desire of knowledge, and not succeeding until it concentrates on a single point its scattered energies. This spontaneous concentration is the first manifestation of Will, but is proved to be not natural from the feeling of constraint always experienced, and the glad rebound, after effort, to tho indeterminate condition. One fact, too, remains even after every thing possible has been done, viz., that the satisfaction of the primitive tendencies is never quite complete.
When, however, such satisfaction as may be, has been attained, there arises pleasure; and pain, when our faculties fail to attain the good or end they sought. There could be action, successful and unsuccessful, and so good and evil, without any sensibility, wherefore good and evil are not to be confounded with pain and pleasure; but constituted as we are, there is a sensible echo that varies according as the result of action is attained or not. Pleasure is, then, the consequence, and, as it were, the sign of the realization of good, and pain of its privation.
He next distinguishes Secondary passions from the great primary tendencies and passions. These arise _apropos_ of external objects, as they are found to further or oppose the satisfaction of the fundamental tendencies. Such objects are then called _useful_ or _pernicious_. Finally, he completes his account of the infantile or primitive condition of man, by remarking that some of our natural tendencies, like Sympathy, are entirely disinterested in seeking the good of others. The main feature of the whole primitive state is the exclusive domination of passion. The will already exists, but there is no liberty; the present passion triumphs over the future, the stronger over the weaker.
He now passes to consider the double transformation of this original state, that takes place when reason appears. Reason is the faculty of _comprehending_, which is different from knowing, and is peculiar to man. As soon as it awakes in man, it comprehends, and penetrates to the meaning of, the whole spectacle of human activity. It first forms the general idea of _Good_ as the resultant of the satisfaction of all the primary tendencies, and as the true End of man. Then, comprehending the actual situation of man, it resolves this idea into the idea of the _greatest possible_ good. All that conduces to the attainment of this good, it includes under the general idea of the _Useful_; and finally, it constructs the general idea of _Happiness_ out of all that is common to the agreeable sensations that follow upon the satisfaction of the primary tendencies.
But besides forming these three perfectly distinct ideas, and exploring the secret of what has been passing within, the reason also comprehends the necessity of subjecting to control the faculties and forces that are the condition of the greatest satisfaction of human nature. In the place of the merely mechanical impulsion of passion, which is coupled with grave disadvantages, it puts forward, as a new principle of action, the rational calculation of interest. The faculties are brought into the service of this idea of the reason, by the same process of concentration as was needful in satisfying the passions; only now voluntarily instead of spontaneously. Being an idea instead of a passion, the new principle supplies a real _motive_, under whose guidance our natural power over our faculties is developed and strengthened. All partial ends are merged in the one great End of Interest, to which the means is self-control. The first great change thus wrought by reason is, that it takes the direction of the human forces into its own hand, and although, even when by a natural transformation the new system of conduct acquires all the force of a passion, it is not able steadily to procure for the idea of interest the victory over the single passions, the change nevertheless abides. To the state of Passion has succeeded the state of Egoism.
Reason must, however, he thinks, make another discovery before there is